Monday, May 23, 2011

What is seen in the light

picture by frail0124
via photobucket.com
The other night I decided to do an experiment.  Not out of boredom, but for a purpose.  It’s blog writing time.  On several occasions in the past I’ve asked for input from my Facebook friends as research for whatever topic I’m focused on.  This time I decided to do my own research for a change.  The topic for the week?  What is seen in the light.  My research experiment?  Shut off the lights and put on a blindfold, then write my post. 

Yes, fellow ponderer, I typed blindfolded.  And I did pretty well, too.  I say that not to boast; it’s because I have used my typing skills almost daily over the past manymany years, and I don’t like having to go back and edit any more than what is necessary.  Here are some of my reflections of my time in the absence of light.  I have left out some of what I wrote, simply because the thought was too random, or the flow of thoughts didn’t make sense or repeated what had already been said.  However, I have not edited for spelling or typing errors, except where I have added a clarification in (parentheses and italics).

---------------------------- 

Darkness.  Confusion.  How did I become this way?  Mind darting, but nothing to see, nowhere of safety to turnb. (turn)

Unsure of my surroundings, I do not know what isbehind me, next to me, hovering near me.

My vision having failed me, I rely solely on my remaining senses to make sense of my world.  Smell – fragrance? Odor?  It’s always been here; I never noticed, never needed to notice. 

Hearing? The tick-toc-tic-oc of the clock on the wall behind me. The time on its face, useless to me; I cannot read the hands, am unaware of w    cannot comprehend what they are saying to me.

Touch.  The slight raises on the F and J keys assure me that I am typing words, not gibberish, on my compu8ter.  Many tyupos, I am sure, but not pure gibberish.

Taste? The dryness of my mout. The taste of anxiety. Perhaps even fear.

The air in the room  has a coldness to it, a coldness that ought not be present.  Such is the air of being without light. Of darkness.  Of bself-imposed blindness.

I have spent the pasat 30 minutes or so blindfolded. I can see no light.  I cannot see what is seen in the light.

I had my office chair in the middle of the room.  I spun myself around several times.  After I got over the dizziness I stood==.  My objective? To find my way in the dark.  What made it hard? 

I had no point of reference.  I did not know where I was; where I was heading.
I –Walking through my house I have had a heightened awareness of my surroundings.  Not because of what I could see. --, but because of the obstacles I could not see.  The doorways, the moving boxes scattered throughout the house, some with box flaps hanging open.  The coffee table.



There is a light in the room near me, yet I cannot see it.  Because I have been cut off from it, ithe light means very little to me.  It is meaningle
Light is meaningless, until I surrender my blindness to it.
Jesus is meaningless to those who do not surrender their blindness to him.

How long?  How long must I stay blinded? When will I see light?

“Jesus said to the blind man, “What do you want me to do for you?”
“I want to see.”

Jesus healed the blind nman at the city gate. Bartimaeus.

Jesus and his disciples went to Jericho.  And as they were leaving, they were followed by a large crowd.  A blind beggar by the name of Bartimaeus son of Timaeus was sitting beside the road.  When he heard that it was Jesus from Nazareth, he shouted, “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!”  Many people told the man to stop, but he shouted even louder, “Son of David, have pity on me!”

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him over!”  They called out to the blind man and said, “Don’t be afraid!  Come on!  He is calling for you.”  The man threw off his coat as he jumped up and ran to Jesus.

Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?”  The blind man answered, “Master, I want to see!”

Jesus told him, “You may go.  Your eyes are healed because of your faith.”  Right away the man could see, and he went down the road with Jesus.
--Mark 10:46-52


Jesus is asl=king, “Mary, what do you want me to do for you  What blindness do you want me to remove?”

Jesus, my experiment and reflections are showing me how lost and alonde I am without you, when I place myself in self-imposed darkness.  Like Bartimaeus, I want to see.  More than seeing, I want to help others to see.  To help them to see their darkness, to bring them into light.  My physical darkness is easy to change, to turn around, to repent of.  Once I make that change the light next to me will then mean something, make sense.  Spiritual darkness, emotional darkness, is not total, unless it iss chosen.  Jesus, You are light of the world. You tell us that we too are the light of the world. I want you to help me to help someone in darkness to make sense of Your Light.

But Lord, that means revisiting the darkness (my darkness).  I didn’t like it there.  I don’t like going back.

“I was there with you. You did not see me; I did not make sense to you. Yet I was there. DARKNESS COULD NOT EXTINGUISH ME. Their darkness cannot extinguish me either.”

I still am wearing a blindfold.  Yet I know there is a light next to me.
And the light somehow makes sense in the dark.

--------------------------------------------

Now, unblindfolded, I see. 
What is seen in the light is making sense.


Monday, May 09, 2011

And they all lived happily ever after...

Just a few weeks ago, the entire world had their eyes turned to England for the wedding of Prince William and the young Kate Middleton. Well, maybe not the whole world. I did not stay up late or wake up early to watch what was happening across the pond, but I did manage to see some of the highlights of the festivities. Events of such a grand scale and exquisiteness as a royal wedding may be excessive, yet people are obviously drawn to them.


I pondered, what it is about these two young lovers tying the knot that holds millions of observers with no connection to them completely agog with every detail of the day? And I came up with a couple of theories.

We like to see good news. In our present day, we are inundated with news stories of natural disasters – earthquakes, tsunami, tornados, flooding – where hundreds of thousands of lives are impacted in the blink of an eye. Not to mention the devastation mankind brings upon itself, through war (even when it is for the right reasons), crime, substance abuse, and abuses toward others. Plus our own personal drama – bills to pay, relationships that don’t work, illness …. You get the idea. There’s something good in seeing people smiling, truly smiling, even if it’s just for a day. (Looking at the picture of the Royal Family on the balcony, apparently the little girl got tired of complying with the “be happy” memo…)

We want to believe fairy tales can happen. Ask any six year old girl what her favorite movie is, and chances are it involves a Disney princess. And what happens in a movie with a Disney princess? The young heroine meets a handsome prince, there is a bit of conflict or tension, they end up falling in love, getting married, and living happily ever after. Of course there are some variations to the story – for example, in Beauty and the Beast the prince was not what most would consider handsome for the majority of the film; Aladdin was a commoner posing as a prince to win the heart of Princess Jasmine. But in the end, love triumphs over all. (By the way, did anyone else notice that the Royal Wedding came complete with a Royal Stepmother? Not implying Camilla is evil or anything like that … just sayin’ …)

As I pondered further, I think there is a deeper reason why we are all so captivated by the royal affair. It may not be easy to understand on the surface, so bear with me as we dive in …

It’s been said that the Bible is God’s love story to His people. Throughout Scripture is the metaphor of the Church, the collective body of Christians, as the bride, with Jesus as the Bridegroom. Back in the days of old, before there was a wedding there would be a time of betrothal. The bride and bridegroom were separated during that time, while preparations were made for the marriage. No matter how simple or elaborate the preparation might be, the bride’s foremost responsibility was to remain faithful during the bridegroom’s absence, for at the end of the betrothal period, he would return. There would be a wonderful marriage ceremony, followed by a glorious feast!

God has placed eternity in our hearts. And He promises those who believe in Jesus eternal life in heaven, our own happily ever after. We, as members of the Church, ought to remain faithful to Jesus as we prepare ourselves and wait in anticipation for the day that Jesus returns for his bride.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

WiFi Madness

I cancelled my internet service at home a while back. Since then, I’ve either been using the computer at family members’ homes, or more often than not, taking my laptop someplace where I can tap into a Wi-Fi hotspot. A few weeks ago I discovered that I could tap into an unsecured Wi-Fi connection right here at my kitchen table! That is, when the connection is available. And the availability of the signal is often hit-and-miss, with more “miss” than “hit” in the evening hours when I want to be on line. It seems as soon as the connection is established and I open a web page, the connection is gone. This can be a problem, especially when reading and sending e-mails. If the connection fails, I cannot send replies, or even go to the next email in my inbox. I end up spending more time checking to see if I have a “live” connection, more than I spend actually online. An analogy might be that I’m spending more time asking “Are we there yet?” more than I’m spending time actually in the car. As much as I’m inconvenienced by this, I can’t complain. After all, I’m on someone else’s unsecured connection – their internet provider has no responsibility to me.

*grrrrr…..*

Tonight was another one of those “miss more than hit” nights. Oh, sure, I could have packed up the laptop and gone to a hotspot for a connection, but I didn’t have any internet business to take care of that couldn’t wait until tomorrow evening. I can’t post my blog directly to my blog, so the plan is to write to a word document, then copy and paste it to the blog. And I pondered, if God showed up, what would He be trying to teach me through this?

Guess what, dear reader … God showed up in the ponder.

In the shallow end of the ponder, God always shows up. He’s not a “hit and miss” God. He’s always there, always available for connection. You don’t have to ponder too deeply to discover that.

In the deeper parts where others wonder if you are going to come up for air soon, I pondered about losing the connection. Paul tells us, “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17. And while you’re looking it up, Paul gives us some other valuable tidbits … but I digress…)

Pray without ceasing. Reminds me of a parable that Jesus told about a widow who presented her case before a judge, pleading for him to give her fair treatment in court and granting justice against her adversary. (The story is in chapter 18 of the book of Luke.) The judge was not what you would consider a people person. He really didn’t give a flying (fill in the blank) about the lady, or even God for that matter. So brushed her off, and went on to the next case. The woman persisted, though, and kept pleading her case, kept asking for justice. Apparently this went on for some time. The judge kept dismissing her, but she refused to give up. Finally, the judge decided he’d been pestered long enough. Even though he didn’t care one iota about this widow or her case, he gave in, and saw that justice was served, so that she wouldn’t wear him out with her constant cries for help.

Things could have ended differently for our widow. She could have given up. Or, the judge could have banned her from returning by imposing a fine or providing “public housing with open bars” for a night or two. Certainly she had more “misses” than “hits.” But because of her persistence in trying to connect with the one person who had the power to help, the judge took notice, took her seriously, and finally heard the case and rendered a decision.

Every minute of every day, God hears us plead our case for help. We serve a God who wants to give us good things in our lives. We ask for things that we believe are within the scope of God’s will for our lives, things like healthy family relationships, provision for our most basic needs, people to come along side of us, for wisdom. Sometimes we don’t sense God’s answer, so we get frustrated and think He doesn’t care about our request. And in our frustration, we give up.

Jesus goes on to explain the parable to his followers:

The Lord said: “Think about what that crooked judge said.  Won't God protect his chosen ones who pray to him day and night.  Won't he be concerned for them?  He will surely hurry and help them.  But when the Son of Man comes, will he find on this earth anyone with faith?”

Pray without ceasing …
Try connecting again ...

Oh yay!!! I'm online!!!!

Copy. Paste. Publish. Done! Thank you, Lord!

Thursday, April 07, 2011

Childlike Faith

One of the oil islands off of Long Beach.
Not Hawaii.
Children amaze me. They believe in nearly anything, as long as the person telling them is someone that they trust. I remember before I entered kindergarten I honestly believed that Santa Claus squeezed through the mail slot on Christmas Eve to deliver gifts (we didn't have a chimney), that it was a good idea (at the time) to write my name in purple crayon on the wall in the hallway, that the oil islands off of Long Beach were really Hawaii, and that my daddy could fix anything.

With these beliefs came grand expectations: I could peek out the mail slot in search of Santa; mom would treasure my artwork; the world was smaller than it really is; and daddy could make all things good as new again. I believed in all these things because I had complete faith and trust in the people who loved me, an unwavering faith that they would never do anything to harm me.

The faith of a child.

But then I grew older. I made discoveries about the world around me. Things weren't as I once believed. People don't fit through the mail slot. Crayon marks belong on paper (inside the lines), not on walls. Luaus are not common on the oil islands. And there are some things that are beyond repair and have to be thrown away.

Often times when we first encounter Jesus we are no longer in a state of wide-eyed wonder of a child. Yet there is something about this Son of God that makes us want to know more about him.

It's been said that children are a reflection of their parents. And Jesus is no exception. God has chosen reveal Himself through His words and actions, and Jesus is God's perfect self-revelation to us. By studying the words and actions of Jesus, we learn that God is faithful to keep His promises and is worthy of our trust. And our response to this is "faith."

Jesus holds children in very high esteem. He even tells us that unless we change and become like little children, we will never enter the Kingdom of heaven. When we come back to the place where we can trust Jesus with a childlike faith we will receive more blessings than what will fit in any mailbox, realize that our names are engraved on the palm of God's hand, stand in awe of the beauty of the vast universe that God created, and have full access to our Father in heaven, who truly does make all things new.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Making a Difference



photo by bellabu452
via photobucket.com
 
During the past year and a half to two years I have been to more funerals than I care to remember.  Whether these gatherings were called "funeral" or "memorial service" or "celebration of life," there was always an eulogy of some sort, a tribute to the deceased, usually given by a close family member or someone who knew him or her very well. And there was always a time set aside during the service when family and freinds could share what heaven's newest resident meant to them.  Some services had many people share; others had only a few share. Regardless of how many people shared, it was clear that the person made a difference with their life.

What did they do during their lives to make a difference? None of these individuals were famous.  They were mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, colleagues, friends. They all had their own unique flaws. They also had their own unique gifts. They took the time to build relationships with those around them. They gave of themselves, and received love in return.


It is easy to tell that they made a difference with their lives, by the way they are greatly missed by the ones who were closest to them.  There may have been times the person honored thought he was only one person in this vast world of ours, that what he was doing was insignificant or unimportant. I feel that way sometimes. We all do. But what we fail to see in those times is that we are being watched. Somehow, somewhere, in our everyday lives, there is somebody we mean the world to. It's not because we did anything special, like rescue a child from a burning building, or donate a ton of money to a college and have a building named after us. For most of us, we become heroes simply by living life using the unique talents and abilities God has given us.

Doing something that makes a difference in someone's life can be as simple as a phone call, saying I missed you.  It's sharing a cookie with a child whose last-inning strike-out lost the game for the team and telling him you are proud of him, not because he lost the game, but because he did his best. It may come in the form of making a "random" comment that you don't remember what you said, that made someone think twice before making a bad decision. It's been said that 90% of helping is just showing up. The act of being available to listen speaks volumes.

Yes, what we do to make a lasting difference with our life might be something we don't notice. But to the one whose life was impacted, it will be remembered forever.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Calvary

Calvary. Golgotha. The place of the skull.
No one wants to think of this place.
Criminals meet punishment.
Soldiers wait for dying nobodies to die.
Victims and families finding closure as justice is served.
A place of disgust. Anguish. Death.
Blood-soaked ground. Random bones left behind from the men who died on this hill.
Blood-soaked beams of wood and nails tossed aside, forgotten. Just as the men who they once held up are now forgotten.

No one wants to come here, yet I am drawn to this place.
Drawn by one man who once hung from one cross.
No crime of his own brought him here.
The people called for his death; the political leaders pardoned him.
The people called for his death; the governor ordered soldiers to flog him.
Not enough punishment for the people. They called for his death.
This man was innocent, yet this man did not fight for his own life.

One man. Two beams of wood. Three heavy nails.
Blood-soaked ground. Golgotha.

Crime meets punishment, but it was not his crime that brought him here.
Not his crime; not his punishment.
The people called for his death. He died for the people – the crimes of the people.
He served God’s sentence for their crimes.
Guilt made righteous, by one declared not-guilty.

No, I cannot forget this man, this place.

Our crime, his punishment.
Justice served on Calvary.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Drag Racing


Photo by mpmf59 via Photobucket.com
 
Two lanes. Two cars. Two drivers. One starting signal One finish line. One winner. One prize.

Drag racing. What is it about this type of event that draws the attention of thousands of people? Is it the head-to-head competitive nature? The adrenaline rush of pushing the pedal to the metal in hopes of coming out victorious? Is it the prize itself, whether it’s the pink slip to the other car, getting the girl, or bragging rights to defend your title for another day?

Let me be clear. I am not an advocate of drag racing, mostly because of the dangers of the sport. Even in a controlled environment, the risks are very high. But this post is not about feeding one’s need for speed.

Or is it?

Maybe you’ve known people who live as though they are drag racing through life. They seem to live as though they are racing “real” life racing against the life they “ought” to have. Once the starting signal said “GO!” they became so focused on their goals and on how they plan to get there. The objective: Go, go fast, finish, and finish best. In order to be successful, must work exactly right, with little or no margin for error. One unexpected bump in the road, one minor over-correction, and you risk complete burn-out or spinning hopelessly out of control.

Maybe you don’t know someone exactly like that. The point I am trying to make is that you and I were not created to live life focused on only one thing, while allowing the rest of life go unnoticed. It is important to have goals and plans for life. But our goals and plans for life ought not be the end-all, be-all of our time here on earth. There are bumps in the road, and course corrections do need to be made. If you neglect the course corrections, you veer out of control.

This brings to mind a well-known story of a Special Olympics event several years ago. As the story goes:

A few years ago at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled challenged, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win.

All, that is, except one boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. They all turned around and went back. Every one of them.

One girl with Down’s Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, “This will make it better.” All nine linked arms and walked across the finish line together.

Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves.

What truly matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course.
The apostle Paul said, “I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.” (Philippians 3:14, NLT) We are all in a life race of some sort. Whether your life moves at the pace a fast, loud muscle car, or a respected Lexus, or the mini-van of the soccer mom, or even a too slow Yugo, there is still time to slow down and appreciate the little things. Your life race will come someday to an end – there’s really no need to speed it up. Your heavenly prize will still be waiting for you.

Run strong. Run well. Take time to help the guy with the laughed at leased Pinto. Really, you don’t need to run so fast.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Family Ties

(Disclaimer: As you read this post, think of the author as someone who is an outsider, looking in. As much as I love and appreciate every member of my family and extended family, it is in no way my intention to sound whiney, or to stir up any conflict or strife. Y'all know me better than that...)

Way back in the deep dark ages of antiquity when I was young, I remember being able to spend time on a somewhat regular basis with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. True, we were all younger, and nana and granddad were alive then as well. And getting together was much easier because most of us lived within just a couple hours drive of each other. Christmas was a family reunion of sorts, where the men watched sports or talked cars, the women talked family and cooking, and the kids talked about how neat it was to play with cousins and reminisced about the time mom, Aunt, and six cousins piled in the old Dodge Dart, went to Pup-n-Taco and ate (collectively) about 50 tacos with hot sauce and 50 without.

In the years since the holiday gatherings, our families have grown, grown up, and, it seems, grown apart. With some exceptions, family gatherings seem to center around who is getting either married or buried. Last summer we did have a picnic reunion, with much of the family able to attend. There were some cousins I had not seen since I was very, very, very young; and others that I had kept more in touch with. But at the same time, there were several who could not be there. The last “reunion” had been at Auntie’s funeral, nearly three years earlier. Why so long between cousin sightings? Lots of reasons – money, work, distance, and time seem to be the largest common denominator. OK, so the in-person, face-to-face family reunion is not always a practical feat to pull off.

For those who might not know, I’m part of a small blogging group, where we write from the same writing prompt week. Last week’s topic was “Family Reunions” and this week’s is “How Busy Is Too Busy?” (Since I’m running a bit behind in my writing, I decided to combine the two.) A few days before I sat down to write this, I posted a question on my Facebook status, asking what people thought about family reunions. Answers ranged from the amount of work and planning involved and the simple logistics of making one happen, to knowing that there are people weirder than themselves in the family, to the awkwardness of the whole thing.

Awkward? A Coble thinks family reunions are awkward? You know, in a way, I agree with that Coble. It’s awkward to see people you haven’t kept in touch with in recent years. Life does get busy. Job schedules get in the way of our having fun. Kids and sports take up a lot of weekends. But I think there is a deeper reason why we feel awkward getting together over burgers and visiting in the park.

We just aren’t as close-knit as we once were, or wish we were. We may be family by blood or marriage, but we don’t know each other. Relationship-wise, some of us are practically strangers. Oh, if we passed each other on the street we’d stop and talk a few minutes, but be honest. If we drew names for a gift exchange, how many of us could buy a personal, meaningful gift (meaning no cash or gift cards) without the aid of a wish-list or input from the recipient’s immediate family members?

Here’s an idea. You can do whatever you want with it – take it as it is, ignore it, improve it, it’s all up to you.

Remember the address book that you got at the reunion? The one that Aunt Martha made up, with everyone’s address, phone number, family members, birthdates – everything except for their underwear size? How many of us have let it sit in a drawer someplace? (My hand is raised. Sorry, mom.) Let’s put it to use. I’m not saying that everyone should send a card to every single person every week. I wouldn’t be able to keep a commitment like that, and I wouldn’t expect you to either. But, what if each one of us picked just one family member, or one family unit picked another family unit, that you don’t already talk to on a regular basis, and start a friendship with them? Send e-cards or facebook messages just for that person. Ask how they are doing, what struggles they’re going through, etc. If you’ve survived raising teenagers, connect with someone who is going through that, or about to go through it. Don’t be afraid to reach out. And for those who are blessed by someone reaching out to make friends, remember – it goes both ways. Reach back. Answer their questions. Families are supposed to laugh together and, just as importantly, cry together and comfort each other.

Relationships and friendships don’t just happen on their own. It takes effort. It takes persistence. It takes intentionality. If the first person you reach out to doesn’t respond, then reach to someone else. You don’t have to choose someone in your own generation. There is no reason an aunt or uncle can’t start a friendship with one of their grand-nieces or grand-nephews. It’s OK to go beyond family and generational lines. That’s part of what made the holiday gatherings memorable.

Let’s give it a try. What do you say?

Saturday, February 05, 2011

A place to call "home"

Photo by pollyscards
via Photobucket.com
My house has a “For Sale” sign in the front yard at my house. It wasn’t exactly my idea to put the house on the market, with the housing prices down. But I knew that in order for me to remain financially solvent after ending my marriage, I really had no choice. Well, I did – I could have walked away and let the property foreclose. Or I could have applied for a loan modification; but why, when I didn’t want to keep the house long-term?

Selling a house is not easy, even when it is the right thing to do. My initial meeting with my real estate agent was in October, and the house went on the market officially in November. It was about three weeks later when I walked out my front door and saw the “For Sale” sign on my front lawn.

And I cried. I wasn’t crying happy tears. No, I was crying the hot, fat wet tears that form rivers on your cheeks, threatening to suffocate you until you finally allow yourself to feel, and you cry some more because what you are feeling is worthy of the tears. Even though I knew for some time that I would see the sign, and even though I knew that in the long run the sale would be a good thing for me, nothing could prepare me for how I would feel when I was faced with the evidence that I would soon have to surrender my house keys to a stranger and leave the place I called home for the past several years. I think I cried for nearly an hour that day.

Today my realtor called to let me know there is a potential buyer who wants to submit an offer on the house. This means that the house could go into escrow as early as next week. In a real estate agent’s world, that is great news. In Mary’s world, there was mixed emotions. I held back the hot, wet, fat river tears until the phone conversation ended. I was faced with more evidence that I will no longer call Cerritos Ave. home. But this time the tears lasted all of about three minutes. I started thinking about what the next home would be like. What would the floor plan be like? Would it be one story, or two? What features will be there? What kind of furniture? Carpet? Window treatments? Would I have neighbors from hell (like Mr. Goober) again? It brought me comfort to think of what my future could be like (even the part about the Goobers).


Someday I will have to leave my home on earth. It’s a thing called “death.” We all will have to face it for ourselves, and we will have to face the death of a loved one at some point. Even though we all know death is coming, for some there is no way to prepare ourselves for how we will react. There will be the hot, wet, fat river tears threatening suffocation. The tears will last for quite some time; they may seem to last forever.

There is comfort though. Even though there is an unavoidable surrender of our lives on earth, there is another home waiting for us. The Bible speaks often of our eternal relocation. Jesus speaks to his disciples of our new dwelling place that awaits us: “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am.” Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:1, “For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down (that is, when we die and leave this earthly body), we will have a house in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands.” And the apostle John does his best to share with us his first-hand glimpse of heaven in Revelation 21-22. But John's description cannot adequately describe our new home because “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.”

Emotions may overcome us when we face death. The emotions are what let us know we are alive. But for those who believe, the tears will not last for eternity, for once we enter our new home Jesus will wipe every tear from our eyes.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

United with Christ

In South America there is a certain species of monkey called the Spider Monkey. It got its name from its long, spindly arms and legs, and the way it easily moves about from tree to tree to do its spider monkey things. The spider monkey also happens to be an important food source to the South American natives, and the natives have discovered a very easy way to capture them. They set up a simple gourd, with a hole just large enough for the monkey to stick his hand in. The natives put a particular type of nut in the gourd, and fasten it securely in a tree at sunset. Then, during the night, the spider monkey will discover the scent of food, stick his hand in the gourd, and grab the treat. It tries and tries to pull his hand out, but because he cannot remove his closed fist, and won’t let go of his prize, he is unable to escape. Come morning, the hunters return, bag the monkey, taking it captive.

In our Scripture passage this morning Paul is warning the church in Philippi against falling to the temptation of pride and self-servitude. As with many warnings in Scripture, these come with instruction of how to avoid being caught in that trap.

The first instruction Paul gives is to be united with Christ.

Often one of the first things that comes to mind when we think of being united with Christ is to share in his suffering. While it is true that as Christians we will at some point be called to give up something for the sake of the Gospel, it’s not very encouraging. In fact, it may be very humbling, even humiliating. But Christ can take the humiliating things in our lives and make them glorious!

Being united with Christ is something that brings about benefits. How often do we find comfort, compassion, tenderness, and mercy when we turn to Jesus? Even in times when we are called to give something up, even something major, for the cause of Christ, we receive His comfort. We receive His compassion. We receive the tenderness, grace and mercy.

A few years back Jim and I were dealing with the issue of debt. I’ll confess – we had been lazy with how we handled our money, and found ourselves in significant debt, a debt the equivalent of about a year’s take-home income. One day I was at the local It’s A Grind, and one of the regular customers could see that I was upset. When he came over and asked what was wrong, I opened up to him a little bit. We talked briefly about how easy it is to fall into debt, that God does not want his people being controlled by money. We talked about how even though our troubles can seem to consume us with anxiety and worry, God is greater than our troubles, and God is big enough to consume what consumes us! Through my encounter with this man, I was able to receive God’s grace and compassion and comfort.

But we don’t receive these gifts for the purpose of keeping them for ourselves. True, it feels good to rest in Jesus’ arms in times of trouble. But to leave it at that would be, well, selfish. We would only be building up ourselves, not anyone else.

What if I encountered someone going through a struggle I’ve been through in my life? There are a few options I have. Option #1 would be that I could walk on by, and play it safe. After all, why reopen an old wound? Or, option #2, I could come along side of them, tell them I’ve been there, done that, and here’s how it turned out for me, and in essence, make it all about me so I can show off my battle scars. But neither of these reflects the comfort that I have received in Christ.

2 Corinthians 1:4 gives a better way to respond: We receive comfort from God so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

Last year my friend Julie was preparing for major surgery and she admitted to me that she was afraid. I had never faced the kind of medical issues Julie was facing, and I pray that I never do. But I had been afraid before, and received comfort from Christ in the midst of that fear. Julie and I talked about her fear, what the worst outcome could be, that the outcome was in God’s hands, and that no matter what happened … Jesus loves me, this I know.

Julie may insist the comfort she received was from me. I insist it was from Jesus. And because Julie received comfort, she is united with Christ, and she is better equipped to share God’s comfort with another person going through similar circumstances. It then becomes more of what God intended, that not only are we blessed, but we become a blessing to others.

Paul continues, instructing us to do nothing out of selfish ambition. Rather, in humility, value others above ourselves, looking not to our own interests but also to the interests of others. That word “also” is very important. Paul is not implying that we ought to allow ourselves to be treated as doormats, taking care of no one but others. He is saying, however, we are not to live as though we are the only priority in life.

We have heroes in every walk of life around us, although most will deny they ever did anything great. A couple of weeks before Christmas there was an apartment fire here in Long Beach. When the firefighters responded they learned that there was a two-year-old child trapped inside, helpless to escape on his own. Being firefighters, the crew did what firefighters do – they went in to the burning building, not knowing exactly what they would find or what dangers they may face, or even where to find the child in order to hopefully find him alive and bring him to safety. But before they could do this, they had to take care of their own safety as well. If they didn’t – if they did not receive the right training, if they did not put on their own safety gear, the jacket, helmet, gloves, oxygen, etc. – their efforts would have been in vain. The life of the child, and possibly the life of one or more firefighter, would have been lost. But because these men and women looked to their own needs also, the child’s life was saved. You and I might not know their names, and they may shy away from the recognition, saying it was just part of the job. But they are heroes all the same. They look not only to their own interests, but to the interest of the child, and they will without hesitation do the same for you and for me.

In the same way constant preparation and training of these men and women fortify them in their daily jobs, our own daily actions that unite us with Christ – prayer, Bible study, fellowship – ought to not only fortify our own spiritual strength, but also be put into action to reach out to others in need of being strengthened. You and I might never be required to perform a dramatic act such as rescuing someone from a fire, but we can still be heroes, just by extending to another person the grace, comfort, compassion, we ourselves have received from Christ, and perhaps even lead them to be rescued from the fires of hell.

But who is Paul to talk about looking to the needs of others? Didn’t he spend part of his life persecuting Jesus and his followers? And who am I, for that matter, to talk to you about this? I’ll be the first to admit that if my life had a city limits sign, it would say “Welcome to the Center of the Universe. Population: (count me, myself, I) Three. Elevation: Right up there with God. (slight pause) All I need is a little bit of humility, and I’d be perfect.

It takes humility to look to the interests of others. It takes humility to remove yourself from the center of the universe and put someone else above yourself and look also to the interests of others.

In the TV series “Undercover Boss” the president or CEO of a nationally known corporation poses as a front-line worker in a radical way to reconnect with their workforce. In one episode the owner of Waste Management Company left the executive office to work as an entry-level trainee, washing out a port-a-pottys and picking up trash on the ground at a local fairground for a day, and another day worked as a garbage truck driver, with a female employee whose basic needs were not being met when it came to relieving herself on the job. In the course of each day’s work, the owner also had the opportunity to learn more about the personal life of his new mentor, and how their work impacted not only the employees’ lives, as well as the lives of their families. The purpose was not just for the executive mucky-mucks to see how “the other half” lives; it was to help improve working conditions for the employees, which in turn improved their overall lives.

In a similar way, God pulled off the ultimate “Undercover Boss” episode. Jesus – God in the flesh – voluntarily left the palaces and privileges of heaven to become one of us. He was born in poverty, in the filth of a stable. He took on the role of a no-status servant. Even though he was equal to God, Jesus was obedient to the Father’s will, even obedient to God’s will that he die on the cross, an execution that was reserved for the lowest and most reviled criminals, even though he had done nothing wrong.

But why? What drove Jesus to obedience to the point of having nails driven in his hands and feet, to death on the cross? Very few people will die to save the life of someone else. Although perhaps for a good person someone might possibly die. Every day we find ourselves trapped in our sins, and like the spider monkey or the two-year-old trapped in the fire, we are unable to rescue ourselves. He shows his love for us in this way: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Like the Undercover Boss, God chose this radical move to reconnect with us. Jesus humbled himself in this way so that our relationship with God may be restored.

God gives honor to the humble, and Jesus was no exception. God exalted Jesus to the highest place and gave him the name above every name. But Jesus didn’t go through all he did for his own glory. After all, he is Lord of lords, King of kings. He had nothing to gain from his humility and humiliation.

But we did.

If Jesus had not humbled himself and become one of us we’d be subject to a set of rules and laws intended to instill holiness in us. But because of our sinful nature we are unable to keep these laws, and as a result, can never attain holiness on our own. Our failure to keep the law only shows us how short of perfection we fall. But because Jesus traded the heavenly realms for the hill of Calvary we are the ones who gained. We gained forgiveness. We gained mercy. We gained grace, and comfort, and compassion. We gained holiness, imparted to us by Christ Himself. We gained the right to become children of God. We are co-heirs with Christ to the Kingdom of heaven and the eternal life that comes with it.

I encourage you to read the book of Philippians. When you do, you will notice that the recurring theme throughout is “joy.” As a mentor to the church in Philippi, Paul urges the Christians to make his joy complete, by being like-minded with Christ and each other, sharing the same love, and looking to the needs of others. The message is simple – JOY (J-O-Y) is made complete by serving Jesus first, then Others, then You. Amen.