We all have these pivotal moments in life we look back on as *the moment* something changed. Incredible is the fact that while the moment is transpiring it is an ordinary moment...there is no immediate realization that *this precise moment* is going to change my life. Only in retrospect does the moment become something extraordinary, something sacred from other moments in life.
Such was a moment in my life when I was 15 years old, out rakin' leaves during what must have been Christmas Break. I can still feel the crispness of the air with that slight Texas Fall chill. The smell of the burning leaves is still so familiar that anytime I smell burning leaves I feel an overwhelming sense of goodness and joy. I even took my 'jam box' outside and put in a cassette tape my dear cousin had given me of Acapella Praise and I would rake, sing, think. Rake, sing, think.... for 3 days straight (we had a big yard). Surprising is that the tape didn't warp after so much use. :-) Nothing like it!
At this time in my life, I had just finished reading the New Testament all by myself for the first time and it had not been at all what I expected. I had heard many sermons and I had read entire books of the Bible at a time with my mother but never had I picked up the Word and just read it for myself until that time. I had this most extraordinary 'brainstorm' while rakin' and singin'. I wanted to try and take what I had learned from scripture and create a 'Fantasy Church' that would be based entirely on the ancient scripture but relevant to the modern world in which I lived. The first time I can remember I purposed to think outside my usual box. It was glorious.
To understand why this was so significant to me personally you have to know what I was used to in terms of church. A very tiny church...maybe 20-30 of sweet, kind, salt of the earth folks...yet we did nothing beyond Sunday service. We even called it the "5 acts of worship"...singing, praying, giving, preaching, communion. Period. That was it. The rare times we had potlucks I felt euphoric....time to visit and bond with people! Admittedly it was rare. We just weren't that kind of church. The fact I thought a potluck was 'relationship intimacy' is telling isn't it? Wow. I was starving! Literally starving for real church. Real intimacy and *being the body*.
So as I read Acts the first time you can imagine how it touched my heart...deeply. Enough to move me to tears. I cried as I read how the early church *lived* together. The breaking of bread, the fellowship, the teaching, prayers, and time together. I read about being the 'body of Christ'...members like body parts...taking care of one another, each essential to the other. How moved I was to read we are 'living stones' building up to be the living *house of God*. I was overwhelmed at 15 with HOW MUCH MORE Church could and should be. It went so beyond distinctives of a denomination, so beyond even theology and 'issues'...even important ones. It came down to being a living, organic, messy body. A *body* and all that means and entails. So much more that I ever imagined! The scripture was pointing me to SO MUCH MORE!
I wanted that Church. Deeply so. I was raised to believe a huge goal is the 'Restoration of the 1st Century Church'. I realize how the real goal is far beyond that...we are not supposed to restore an imperfect 1st century church...we are to become like Jesus. I found however that even with the mindset of wanting to restore the 1st century church, we were light-years away. We had defined Restoration in terms of issues...the New Testament Church was defined in terms of *relationships*. We were speaking two different languages. The picture the Bible painted is of the *people*. That is what my soul longed for and what I needed so desperately...at a tender, formidable age I realized I couldn't be what Jesus called me to be without this kind of help and support. This living household made up of living stones. I needed that. I just couldn't be what Jesus wanted me to be without HER...his bride and all He designed her to be.
When the leaves were all raked and burned and the yard complete, I was so bummed. I wanted more leaves to rake. I never wanted those golden days to be over. The one thing I was left with however was this idea "Whatever it takes, I want to be part of this kind of body. A vibrant one. The one I read about in scripture". It would be 4 years before that journey would really begin but the seed was planted there. My own personal Awakening while rakin' the leaves and singin' until I lost my voice. "He Bore it All" was the song that I remember most from the tape. Before or since, I have never had Fall days like those three. Something you cannot re-create. My own personal Great Awakening as to how much I needed what the Bible describes as *church*...and all she was meant and able to be.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
When God First Broke My Heart (Spiritual Journey Memoirs: Part III)
I honestly never remember a time I didn't believe in God. My earliest memories are of my mother teaching me about God and me accepting what she said. The thing about a child's 'faith' however, is that they are as likely to believe in a monster in their closet or under the bed as well as they are to believe in God. Santa...God...both seem equally believable. That is the nature of childhood 'faith'. I'm more and more uncomfortable actually labeling it 'faith' because it is most accurately described as 'belief/acceptance' without any critical thinking or independent reasoning. It's a good thing, don't misunderstand...a step that many of us who were raised in Christian families share and an important part of our spiritual development. I was comfortable with God like I was comfortable with characters from my favorite stories. Then something changed. He broke my 10 year old heart.
There was a family at our small church...a dad, mom, and 2 sons. She was 39 years old. She had a nagging cough we all noticed that the doctors were fairly confident was 'walking pneumonia' but when it lingered and refused to respond to treatment further testing revealed she had lung cancer. Never smoked a day in her life. I remember how upset my mother was. She said we needed to be in daily prayer about this and to ask God for healing. The church I was part of at this time and my mother both had very healthy/balanced attitudes regarding healing and prayer. They both taught it had to be within God's will and naturally you had to ask in faith believing that nothing was too hard for Him to do. Somehow even though I was taught the truth about this, what I believed in my child's mind was that if I had enough faith and didn't doubt, then God would answer my prayer and heal this beloved sister. I knew the verse about '...if you have faith as a mustard seed you can say to this mountain be moved and it will fall into the sea...'. I knew that verse. I had my mustard seed. God had to heal her. He just had to. If I did my end of the equation, he was obligated to do his, right?
The part about it being God's will? Well, how could healing a mother of 2 kids who never smoked NOT be his will? I mean really? Wouldn't that just make him mean and cruel if it wasn't his will? This was the reasoning of my 10 year old mind.
So we prayed. And prayed. And prayed. In faith. When I doubted (because of course I did) I would psych myself up NOT to doubt...I would will my doubts away (sweep them under my mind's rug so to speak, not actually address them but deny/stifle them) and one day we received good news that the tumors on a checkup had shown no growth so a possible 'remission' was beginning. We praised God and I just knew it was because of my rock solid 'faith' without doubtings that had 'done the job'.
About two weeks later, this precious sister died. Her lungs and health were decimated from cancer and the treatment and she got sick...so sick her body could not survive. She died. Her funeral tore me to pieces. "How could you God????" "Are you even there???" "What kind of God are you if you ARE real that you would take a young mother from her kids?? I had enough faith!!! You didn't keep your end of the bargain!!" Those were my thoughts and accusations I hurled at God. I shook my 10 year old fist in his Divine face and threw a temper tantrum before the throne of Heaven.
For a time my faith was deeply injured...I spiritually pouted. I also felt so spiritually lonely. Who was God? I realized I didn't actually know. My 'faith' of a child was not gone per se, it was being cultivated for the first time, I just didn't realize it. God was preserving the mustard seed... now letting it begin to actually germinate into something much more real. To actually face doubts. To face Him...the real Him, and not a childish caricature I had of Him. He was showing me that the puny box I was so comfortable putting him in must be destroyed. My broken heart was allowing me to catch a real glimpse of Him for the first time. The God who does not answer to me or even make sense to me...a 10 year old who somehow thought I could comprehend God and not only comprehend Him but control what His Sovereign Will is.
Now as an adult, I still have thoughts such as "Why, Lord, Why??" I don't have all the answers. Now I turn to Job and read how God responded to his questions...then I am put in my place:
“Dress for action like a man;
I will question you, and you make it known to me. Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be in the right? Have you an arm like God,
and can you thunder with a voice like his?
There was a family at our small church...a dad, mom, and 2 sons. She was 39 years old. She had a nagging cough we all noticed that the doctors were fairly confident was 'walking pneumonia' but when it lingered and refused to respond to treatment further testing revealed she had lung cancer. Never smoked a day in her life. I remember how upset my mother was. She said we needed to be in daily prayer about this and to ask God for healing. The church I was part of at this time and my mother both had very healthy/balanced attitudes regarding healing and prayer. They both taught it had to be within God's will and naturally you had to ask in faith believing that nothing was too hard for Him to do. Somehow even though I was taught the truth about this, what I believed in my child's mind was that if I had enough faith and didn't doubt, then God would answer my prayer and heal this beloved sister. I knew the verse about '...if you have faith as a mustard seed you can say to this mountain be moved and it will fall into the sea...'. I knew that verse. I had my mustard seed. God had to heal her. He just had to. If I did my end of the equation, he was obligated to do his, right?
The part about it being God's will? Well, how could healing a mother of 2 kids who never smoked NOT be his will? I mean really? Wouldn't that just make him mean and cruel if it wasn't his will? This was the reasoning of my 10 year old mind.
So we prayed. And prayed. And prayed. In faith. When I doubted (because of course I did) I would psych myself up NOT to doubt...I would will my doubts away (sweep them under my mind's rug so to speak, not actually address them but deny/stifle them) and one day we received good news that the tumors on a checkup had shown no growth so a possible 'remission' was beginning. We praised God and I just knew it was because of my rock solid 'faith' without doubtings that had 'done the job'.
About two weeks later, this precious sister died. Her lungs and health were decimated from cancer and the treatment and she got sick...so sick her body could not survive. She died. Her funeral tore me to pieces. "How could you God????" "Are you even there???" "What kind of God are you if you ARE real that you would take a young mother from her kids?? I had enough faith!!! You didn't keep your end of the bargain!!" Those were my thoughts and accusations I hurled at God. I shook my 10 year old fist in his Divine face and threw a temper tantrum before the throne of Heaven.
For a time my faith was deeply injured...I spiritually pouted. I also felt so spiritually lonely. Who was God? I realized I didn't actually know. My 'faith' of a child was not gone per se, it was being cultivated for the first time, I just didn't realize it. God was preserving the mustard seed... now letting it begin to actually germinate into something much more real. To actually face doubts. To face Him...the real Him, and not a childish caricature I had of Him. He was showing me that the puny box I was so comfortable putting him in must be destroyed. My broken heart was allowing me to catch a real glimpse of Him for the first time. The God who does not answer to me or even make sense to me...a 10 year old who somehow thought I could comprehend God and not only comprehend Him but control what His Sovereign Will is.
Now as an adult, I still have thoughts such as "Why, Lord, Why??" I don't have all the answers. Now I turn to Job and read how God responded to his questions...then I am put in my place:
“Dress for action like a man;
I will question you, and you make it known to me. Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be in the right? Have you an arm like God,
and can you thunder with a voice like his?
Adorn yourself with majesty and dignity;
clothe yourself with glory and splendor.Pour out the overflowings of your anger,
and look on everyone who is proud and abase him. Look on everyone who is proud and bring him low
and tread down the wicked where they stand. Hide them all in the dust together;
bind their faces in the world below. Then will I also acknowledge to you
that your own right hand can save you." Job 40: 7-14
clothe yourself with glory and splendor.Pour out the overflowings of your anger,
and look on everyone who is proud and abase him. Look on everyone who is proud and bring him low
and tread down the wicked where they stand. Hide them all in the dust together;
bind their faces in the world below. Then will I also acknowledge to you
that your own right hand can save you." Job 40: 7-14
God's answer to Job is simply this: I AM GOD. Period. At first glance, that may not seem the most satisfying answer to the question but that is the answer. He is God. We are not. He never explains himself to Job, he simply highlights his Sovereignty and thereby puts Job in his finite, human place. It's as Aslan in Narnia stories "He is not safe, but He's good". He will not bend to our understanding and reasoning nor will He enter our puny and pathetic little 'cardboard' boxes. 'Cardboard' boxes we think can comfortably contain the power that created the universe. In the end, he gave Job *and us* the only answer that matters. He is God. We are not. I also find comfort in the fact that this God is so powerful that even when it defies our best reasoning he still is the God that "works ALL things for good for those who love him"...Romans 8:28
He broke my heart that first time. He has broken it many times sense. He will continue to break it as needed for his Sovereign will to unfold. Yet I trust him. I hope in him. I thank Him for cultivating a faith beyond believing because I understand but rather the opposite... Him sustaining and growing my faith when I do NOT understand. He is God. I am not. Period.
He broke my heart that first time. He has broken it many times sense. He will continue to break it as needed for his Sovereign will to unfold. Yet I trust him. I hope in him. I thank Him for cultivating a faith beyond believing because I understand but rather the opposite... Him sustaining and growing my faith when I do NOT understand. He is God. I am not. Period.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Pure Religion (Spiritual Journey Memoirs part II)
When I reflect on the earliest, most influential moments of my spiritual journey, it will come as no surprise to those who know anything of my family that my mother was truly the most formative person in my life. Without her, I'm not sure at all about the person I would be but I thank God that in his sovereign plan He gave me her as my mother. Her life was a sermon to me growing up; the daily grind, her pulpit. I have early memories of her tender servant's heart for God's most vulnerable and fragile, particularly widows.
She really did have a gift. When I was really little--like any child who thinks any activity without toys is a waste of time--I dreaded sitting for what seemed an eternity while she talked, talked, talked. I would realize later that Mom was teaching me some of the most powerful lessons of my life. There was one particular lady who mom visited for several years. She would wash her hair, make her food and her favorite dessert: gingerbread. This little lady was of extremely humble means. I remember sitting on her sofa and falling into it. My child's heart, self-centered as it was, began to feel a deep feeling I had never felt before. It was compassion. Deep, deep compassion. I began to look forward to every visit. To hear her stories and see her big sweet smile. She loved my mother and it was my mother she called for when she lay in a hospital bed passing from this life. In her last hours on earth she blessed Mom in a very Abrahamic way, laying her hand on Mom's head and praying for God's blessings on her. She had already instructed Mom what to dress her in when she passed, a dress Mom had sown for her. She wanted to go out "pretty." I would pass her old house in recent years on the way to the obstetrician during each pregnancy. Every single time I would think of her and usually tell whoever was in the car with me the same stories.
Over the years there would always be widows such as her. At the time I didn't realize how much I was learning. I was too young to understand the power of her example. Not only did she teach me scripture directly and pray with me, but she made it real by living it out. I cannot read James 1:27 without thinking of her:
"Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world."
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Sons and Daughters of Time
Sons and
Daughters of Time
He was the
first. The original son. Created good. Created free.
He was given
life, a garden, a beautiful companion, a soul and a terrible choice.
He fell.
With him,
into the chains of death we became bound.
Now sons and
daughters of Adam. Sons and daughters of
time.
From
generation to generation, the bitter robe of mortality in which to be clothed.
We fell.
Time passed.
Creation groaned. Sorrow filled the earth.
Sons and daughters
of time tethered in the bondage of sin’s depravity, decay, and death.
The curse of
a fate to love that which is destined to die.
The sorrow
of loss as inevitable as the setting sun.
Yet even
death was unable to destroy one item more powerful….hope.
We looked
ahead and groaned in eager expectation…
The chorus
of all Creation led by the Sons and Daughters of time…
Lifting
voices of “How long Oh, Lord? How long?”
The pendulum
swung and the moment finally arrived.
The Second
Adam came.
This time
Divine of Divine
God of God
The Eternal
One clothed in the flesh of time and mortality
The Timeless
one given just a few years
Destined to
die.
Creation
watched.
Like a
breath taken in sharply, waiting to exhale
Is He the
One?
Time bent to
Him, Creation obeyed his voice
Demons fled.
The earth shook. Death itself shivered.
The Cross.
The Sons and
Daughters of time joining together to take away life from the One who gave it…
The Father
turned his face, his earthy mother watching…wept.
The sword that
was to pierce her heart, found its mark.
“Forgive
them!” The God-man cried.
Even from
the Cross he saved…
Then the
Second Adam died.
Tombs were
opened, the dead even walked
The sacred
temple curtain torn apart.
Death
quaked. Death’s time was coming.
The pendulum
swung again.
Three days
later death’s turn came, his time no more.
The serpent’s
head was crushed and Eve remembered her Father’s words….
That which
is dead, is now made alive in Him…the Second Adam…
Death has
been dethroned, the crown snatched and given to his Nemesis named Life.
From chains
of sin, set free…
The blind
will see,
The dead
will rise…
Sons and
Daughters of time no more…
Now Children
of Eternity.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
The Crack We All Ignored: Part I
In college I remember a class in education where the professor made us write our 'reading autobiography'. We all felt strange having an assignment such as this, like this was a colossal waste of time and totally didn't see the purpose whatsoever. When it was over however, and we looked at the process it took to stand back and view how our earliest memories/experiences w/literature formed how we view reading, we saw the value. Our attitudes and methods reflected each of our unique experience bases and formed the very foundation that our classrooms would be built upon. Our students would be helped or hindered as a result of who we were and what we brought to the classroom. Turned out to be a very useful assignment...and I still have a copy of that reading autobiography. Only a few items survived college but this was one of them.
In the same way, I've found myself looking back over the years to my earliest memories of God, of church, and of the Bible and stepping back to see how those earliest experiences and memories have shaped so much of who I am and how the journey of faith has played out in my own life. As I was living the moments I was not really aware of how God was working in the moment yet looking back at the experiences of 37+ years, I can now see in retrospect that God, in his mercy, has always been there for me w/a plan much larger than me, yet allowing me to participate in a tiny way in the Gospel plan that was in his mind before the foundation of the world. It is humbling. I hope the next few blogs will be my 'spiritual autobiography'...mainly for my own therapeutic purposes...but also something to leave my children to read someday...and hopefully something that can help those w/ similar backgrounds to read and feel a certain kinship. It will be funny in part, serious in part...but in the end it is my story. Much of it is of course, biased. It will be what I saw and experienced from the time I was about 3 years old and after...so experiences and church, etc, as seen through the eyes of myself *as a child*. Keep that in mind as you read. How a child saw church, God and the Bible...
The earliest memories I have of church is a giant crack. Yep. But I'll get to that in a sec. Our church building was a tiny building and for some reason every church that was like ours had the same architecture...a big room w/pulpit in front, baptistry behind...door on each side of the baptistry. The pews, or in our church...it was the horrifyingly uncomfortable wooden fold chairs that were connected like a pew...so 'pew-chairs' that literally were a pain in the backside. Mom would bring a mat to lay on the floor and beg me to sleep through church. There was no nursery, there as no 'children's church'. There were no Bible classes. All of these things were considered 'unscriptural innovations' so my earliest memories was that church was not and I mean NOT for kids. You just sat down, shut up, and behaved or you'd get carried out and no joke, you'd get swats from a tree switch if you misbehaved. Yes, I have very distinct memories of being swatted w/a tree switch, as many kids did back then.
I remember a lot of feet....I'd lay on that mat mom brought and look at all the feet...I liked to look at shoes. There was one gal about 4-5 years older than me...I loved her sandals and would always search them out and look at them while laying on the mat. Then I'd look up at the ceiling....from the pulpit all the way to the front door was a huge crack down the ceiling. NO JOKE. I would look at that crack and think "Am I the only one afraid the ceiling is about to cave in?? Why does NO ONE SEEM TO NOTICE THE CRACK???" I even ask Mom about the crack. She'd didn't know anything about it other than it was there and it never caved in so it must be okay. Not a Sunday passed that that crack didn't bother me.
Don't remember any sermons except I could have sworn one was about Mork and Mindy but remember, I was a kid...most likely it was an illustration in the sermon but all all I remember of years of sermons was something about Mork and Mindy.
I remember there was always a strange 2nd sermon...when this older fellow would get up and talk, talk, talk before dismissing...and he'd be tinkering w/the hymn book and I just remember thinking "Please make him stop...I'm so tired..what is he talking about?? Is he going to ever address the crack in the ceiling??". To this day I don't know what he talked about....maybe it was announcements but gee whiz, it seemed to be longer than the sermon but no mention about that crack.
I remember communion because we kids like to follow the same older gentleman after church because he would throw the left over grape juice down the restroom sink and for some reason we liked to watch it do down the drain spiraling all purple like that, and sometimes he'd let us pour it down the drain, which we thought was 'way cool'.
After church I'd go climb on our car...yes ON THE CAR. I'd lay on the windshield looking over the roof of the car and watch passing cars and 'preach to them'. I'd tell them all about Hell and how not to go there...and I'd just preach, preach, preach. To this day, I have no idea why I did that. I think I was always a mimic-er. I liked to mimic. And I did a fine job...lots and lots about Hell. I never remember preaching about Heaven.
My knowledge base for the Bible did not come from church at all until I was a teenager. Mom taught me all I knew about the Lord and his word. She'd tell me story after story after story...while washing dishes, while folding clothes, while cleaning house. Jesus was her 1st love. Honestly, she taught me a great deal. I would ask her to tell me another story. One day I said "Mom, tell me one I haven't heard before". That was the day she told me about Balaam and his talking donkey. My mother. She was the one who taught me Jesus and to love Him and his word above everything else. Though I thought church was not for kids, it didn't bother me because I didn't know there were alternatives to this set-up. I looked forward to growing up and having church but in the meantime, one thing I knew. Jesus was for kids.
I talked to God as a kid...probably more in line w/how kids talk to invisible playmates but the wonderful thing was, was that I felt I could talk to Him. I loved him and wanted to know him more and more. Those were my earliest memories of him.
Even though church wasn't for kids back then, my sister and I sure played church at home...we even played communion w/saltines and grape juice. We'd lead songs, we'd preach. Other friends even tell me they played baptisms...like w/cats and dogs. Baptizing a cat. I wish I would have thought of that...that would have made a great memory indeed. LOL We didn't baptize animals but we still played church nonetheless.
It never occurred to me that anything was really amiss. It was what it was. A kid doesn't think to analyze and ask is there another way or better way. It is what it is. Like the crack going down the entire building. It didn't bother anyone else. It bothered me. I couldn't quite define why...but there was always something in my soul gently whispering that something was very very wrong..this would develop over many years but at that young and innocent age, it simply was what it was...yet even then I realized a crack like that shouldn't be ignored. Maybe just maybe, there was something better, something more but would be years before I would mature enough to begin to see it and address it.
In the same way, I've found myself looking back over the years to my earliest memories of God, of church, and of the Bible and stepping back to see how those earliest experiences and memories have shaped so much of who I am and how the journey of faith has played out in my own life. As I was living the moments I was not really aware of how God was working in the moment yet looking back at the experiences of 37+ years, I can now see in retrospect that God, in his mercy, has always been there for me w/a plan much larger than me, yet allowing me to participate in a tiny way in the Gospel plan that was in his mind before the foundation of the world. It is humbling. I hope the next few blogs will be my 'spiritual autobiography'...mainly for my own therapeutic purposes...but also something to leave my children to read someday...and hopefully something that can help those w/ similar backgrounds to read and feel a certain kinship. It will be funny in part, serious in part...but in the end it is my story. Much of it is of course, biased. It will be what I saw and experienced from the time I was about 3 years old and after...so experiences and church, etc, as seen through the eyes of myself *as a child*. Keep that in mind as you read. How a child saw church, God and the Bible...
The earliest memories I have of church is a giant crack. Yep. But I'll get to that in a sec. Our church building was a tiny building and for some reason every church that was like ours had the same architecture...a big room w/pulpit in front, baptistry behind...door on each side of the baptistry. The pews, or in our church...it was the horrifyingly uncomfortable wooden fold chairs that were connected like a pew...so 'pew-chairs' that literally were a pain in the backside. Mom would bring a mat to lay on the floor and beg me to sleep through church. There was no nursery, there as no 'children's church'. There were no Bible classes. All of these things were considered 'unscriptural innovations' so my earliest memories was that church was not and I mean NOT for kids. You just sat down, shut up, and behaved or you'd get carried out and no joke, you'd get swats from a tree switch if you misbehaved. Yes, I have very distinct memories of being swatted w/a tree switch, as many kids did back then.
I remember a lot of feet....I'd lay on that mat mom brought and look at all the feet...I liked to look at shoes. There was one gal about 4-5 years older than me...I loved her sandals and would always search them out and look at them while laying on the mat. Then I'd look up at the ceiling....from the pulpit all the way to the front door was a huge crack down the ceiling. NO JOKE. I would look at that crack and think "Am I the only one afraid the ceiling is about to cave in?? Why does NO ONE SEEM TO NOTICE THE CRACK???" I even ask Mom about the crack. She'd didn't know anything about it other than it was there and it never caved in so it must be okay. Not a Sunday passed that that crack didn't bother me.
Don't remember any sermons except I could have sworn one was about Mork and Mindy but remember, I was a kid...most likely it was an illustration in the sermon but all all I remember of years of sermons was something about Mork and Mindy.
I remember there was always a strange 2nd sermon...when this older fellow would get up and talk, talk, talk before dismissing...and he'd be tinkering w/the hymn book and I just remember thinking "Please make him stop...I'm so tired..what is he talking about?? Is he going to ever address the crack in the ceiling??". To this day I don't know what he talked about....maybe it was announcements but gee whiz, it seemed to be longer than the sermon but no mention about that crack.
I remember communion because we kids like to follow the same older gentleman after church because he would throw the left over grape juice down the restroom sink and for some reason we liked to watch it do down the drain spiraling all purple like that, and sometimes he'd let us pour it down the drain, which we thought was 'way cool'.
After church I'd go climb on our car...yes ON THE CAR. I'd lay on the windshield looking over the roof of the car and watch passing cars and 'preach to them'. I'd tell them all about Hell and how not to go there...and I'd just preach, preach, preach. To this day, I have no idea why I did that. I think I was always a mimic-er. I liked to mimic. And I did a fine job...lots and lots about Hell. I never remember preaching about Heaven.
My knowledge base for the Bible did not come from church at all until I was a teenager. Mom taught me all I knew about the Lord and his word. She'd tell me story after story after story...while washing dishes, while folding clothes, while cleaning house. Jesus was her 1st love. Honestly, she taught me a great deal. I would ask her to tell me another story. One day I said "Mom, tell me one I haven't heard before". That was the day she told me about Balaam and his talking donkey. My mother. She was the one who taught me Jesus and to love Him and his word above everything else. Though I thought church was not for kids, it didn't bother me because I didn't know there were alternatives to this set-up. I looked forward to growing up and having church but in the meantime, one thing I knew. Jesus was for kids.
I talked to God as a kid...probably more in line w/how kids talk to invisible playmates but the wonderful thing was, was that I felt I could talk to Him. I loved him and wanted to know him more and more. Those were my earliest memories of him.
Even though church wasn't for kids back then, my sister and I sure played church at home...we even played communion w/saltines and grape juice. We'd lead songs, we'd preach. Other friends even tell me they played baptisms...like w/cats and dogs. Baptizing a cat. I wish I would have thought of that...that would have made a great memory indeed. LOL We didn't baptize animals but we still played church nonetheless.
It never occurred to me that anything was really amiss. It was what it was. A kid doesn't think to analyze and ask is there another way or better way. It is what it is. Like the crack going down the entire building. It didn't bother anyone else. It bothered me. I couldn't quite define why...but there was always something in my soul gently whispering that something was very very wrong..this would develop over many years but at that young and innocent age, it simply was what it was...yet even then I realized a crack like that shouldn't be ignored. Maybe just maybe, there was something better, something more but would be years before I would mature enough to begin to see it and address it.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Have Yourself a Merry, Legalistic Christmas....
Well, it's true. Christmas was something our family struggled with my whole life and just reflected the underlying problem of a pervasive mindset of legalism. You see, as a kid, each year we frankly didn't know what to do w/Christmas. Mom had such fond memories of Christmas as a kid so part of her wanted to celebrate it full throttle. On the other hand, there was also the idea pervasive around us of hotly opposing Christmas as a 'religious holiday' that Mom became downright afraid to have it at all. I don't blame her. She sincerely wanted to please the Lord and add social pressure to the mix...and legalism...well, you cannot blame her one bit. She's a godly woman who honestly couldn't decide what to do so it varied year to year.
As a result of sincere and serious conflict in our hearts, some Christmases we went ahead and put up some decorations...very careful to avoid any Nativity scenes, crosses, or any other such reference to Jesus. Yes, we were Christians but we knew the fact that Christmas was not the literal birthday of Jesus and therefore saw any celebration including Jesus as somehow sinful. So there were the Semi-Christmas years...the ones in which we celebrated Christmas but only in a secular, Jesus-less way. Bring on Santa, Frosty and Rudolph, but no Jesus. Ho, Ho, Ho....Merry Christ-less-Mas.
Then there were the years we were so focused on the rampant materialism, consumerism, and selfishness of the season and disgusted by it, we just didn't do Christmas at all except giving our family members a gift and having family time on Christmas. Mom worked in a grocery store and she could tell you that Christmas brought out the worst in people...so we felt jaded, like Christmas represented the worst of hypocritical people. Those years were just barren and sad from my perspective...and as a kid/teenager, when a year like that happened, all I could do was *sigh* and realize we were doing this out of conscience sake so suck it up and endure it...ball and chain Christianity. **Sigh** Moving on....
Then there were the confusing years of having made other Christian friends from other Christian 'tribes' who were horrified at our anti-Jesus stance at Christmas. They observed our Happy Holidays card w/a merry Santa and smiling Snowman and no Jesus and couldn't believe we professed Christianity at all. Then I was really confused. You mean the Atheists and I celebrated this holiday the same? More confusion....What do I do about Christmas?? I wanted what those Christians had...they seemed so joyous at Christmas and it wasn't because of the Santa, Frosty or Rudolph. During those years, all I could do was be envious. So much for my righteousness for not celebrating Christmas....:-)
The most liberating moment in my life in regards to Christmas came when I took a passage of scripture to heart from Romans 14:
5 One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind. 6 Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord. Whoever eats meat does so to the Lord, for they give thanks to God; and whoever abstains does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God.
What's amazing is God makes room for different points of view! There is no 1 way to do Christmas. For those who truly feel Jesus is displeased in including him in the holiday and therefore regard this day as any other day...that is to God's Glory because in your devotion you are making a decision w/Christ as center. Yet, bearing it as a ball and chain is wrong and defeats the purpose. If this is how you truly feel Christ would have you spend Christmas...even though you regard it as any other day...regard it w/joy and w/Christ as center as in any other day. No ball and chain. No 'having-to- endure-act-of-piety'. Be joyous and spend it in a way that points to Jesus...as any other day. Don't exclude Him on ANY day. Basically, don't do what I did. :-) It brings no glory to God and only suffering to oneself...needless suffering.
For those who realize setting time aside to focus on Christ's birth and use it as a time to connect this w/the Gospel, and being salt/light in a dark world, we also are doing this to bring glory to God. There is this freedom in Christ and we do this to the glory of our Lord. Romans 14 is perfect in allowing for special days....holidays...that glorify Him in the celebrating.
So how do I spend Christmas now? As you can imagine, I pretty much throw myself in full throttle...like a child growing up in a famine starved country, suddenly in front of the fullest, most aromatic buffet ever seen...and I pile my plate high....:-)
Now I spend Christmas focused on the anticipation of Christ's incarnation on Earth (Advent)...trying in my feeble ways as they are...to keep Him central in the holiday that is honoring his birth into this fallen world. The fairy tale characters are kept as that...fairy tales like any fairy tale to bring joy to children...but heaven forbid they are the focus any longer. Christ centered...family oriented...bringing joy to adult and child alike. No more ball and chains for me...yet also no more judging. There is freedom in Christ...but I must be okay w/those who choose to not embrace it, and honor the Lord differently than I do. I must bless them and realize what I choose to do is no better than what they choose NOT to do. Gone is my heart of judgement. I'm so thankful, God makes room for diversity under the Cross...and under the Christmas tree. :-) Merry Christmas...or not...it's up to you...but to God be the Glory in all the choices we make in this life.
As a result of sincere and serious conflict in our hearts, some Christmases we went ahead and put up some decorations...very careful to avoid any Nativity scenes, crosses, or any other such reference to Jesus. Yes, we were Christians but we knew the fact that Christmas was not the literal birthday of Jesus and therefore saw any celebration including Jesus as somehow sinful. So there were the Semi-Christmas years...the ones in which we celebrated Christmas but only in a secular, Jesus-less way. Bring on Santa, Frosty and Rudolph, but no Jesus. Ho, Ho, Ho....Merry Christ-less-Mas.
Then there were the years we were so focused on the rampant materialism, consumerism, and selfishness of the season and disgusted by it, we just didn't do Christmas at all except giving our family members a gift and having family time on Christmas. Mom worked in a grocery store and she could tell you that Christmas brought out the worst in people...so we felt jaded, like Christmas represented the worst of hypocritical people. Those years were just barren and sad from my perspective...and as a kid/teenager, when a year like that happened, all I could do was *sigh* and realize we were doing this out of conscience sake so suck it up and endure it...ball and chain Christianity. **Sigh** Moving on....
Then there were the confusing years of having made other Christian friends from other Christian 'tribes' who were horrified at our anti-Jesus stance at Christmas. They observed our Happy Holidays card w/a merry Santa and smiling Snowman and no Jesus and couldn't believe we professed Christianity at all. Then I was really confused. You mean the Atheists and I celebrated this holiday the same? More confusion....What do I do about Christmas?? I wanted what those Christians had...they seemed so joyous at Christmas and it wasn't because of the Santa, Frosty or Rudolph. During those years, all I could do was be envious. So much for my righteousness for not celebrating Christmas....:-)
The most liberating moment in my life in regards to Christmas came when I took a passage of scripture to heart from Romans 14:
5 One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind. 6 Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord. Whoever eats meat does so to the Lord, for they give thanks to God; and whoever abstains does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God.
What's amazing is God makes room for different points of view! There is no 1 way to do Christmas. For those who truly feel Jesus is displeased in including him in the holiday and therefore regard this day as any other day...that is to God's Glory because in your devotion you are making a decision w/Christ as center. Yet, bearing it as a ball and chain is wrong and defeats the purpose. If this is how you truly feel Christ would have you spend Christmas...even though you regard it as any other day...regard it w/joy and w/Christ as center as in any other day. No ball and chain. No 'having-to- endure-act-of-piety'. Be joyous and spend it in a way that points to Jesus...as any other day. Don't exclude Him on ANY day. Basically, don't do what I did. :-) It brings no glory to God and only suffering to oneself...needless suffering.
For those who realize setting time aside to focus on Christ's birth and use it as a time to connect this w/the Gospel, and being salt/light in a dark world, we also are doing this to bring glory to God. There is this freedom in Christ and we do this to the glory of our Lord. Romans 14 is perfect in allowing for special days....holidays...that glorify Him in the celebrating.
So how do I spend Christmas now? As you can imagine, I pretty much throw myself in full throttle...like a child growing up in a famine starved country, suddenly in front of the fullest, most aromatic buffet ever seen...and I pile my plate high....:-)
Now I spend Christmas focused on the anticipation of Christ's incarnation on Earth (Advent)...trying in my feeble ways as they are...to keep Him central in the holiday that is honoring his birth into this fallen world. The fairy tale characters are kept as that...fairy tales like any fairy tale to bring joy to children...but heaven forbid they are the focus any longer. Christ centered...family oriented...bringing joy to adult and child alike. No more ball and chains for me...yet also no more judging. There is freedom in Christ...but I must be okay w/those who choose to not embrace it, and honor the Lord differently than I do. I must bless them and realize what I choose to do is no better than what they choose NOT to do. Gone is my heart of judgement. I'm so thankful, God makes room for diversity under the Cross...and under the Christmas tree. :-) Merry Christmas...or not...it's up to you...but to God be the Glory in all the choices we make in this life.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
The God Who Will Have Our Best
A lot of thoughts have been forming in my mind around the idea of what God desires from his people. I've had the privilege of hearing great teaching on the book of Malachi at church and then coupling that with the many times God is described as a *jealous* God. Surely that isn't positive? Haven't we always heard 'jealous' in a negative connotation?
What this does reveal to us about God is that He is worthy of our complete and total allegiance, worship, and devotion. Like a passionate husband in love w/his beloved wife...He wants first place in the heart of his bride. Would we want any less passion from God? Would we want a God content to have our leftovers? Content to be ranked somewhere on our list of loves along w/family, chocolate and pets? No. Of course not. We want a jealous God. A God who loves us w/a passion He is unwilling to share for place #1 in our hearts. I want this jealous God! I want him jealous for me!
As a result of this preeminent position in our hearts and lives, he is NOT content with having our leftovers. Leftover time, leftover energy... leftover money after the bills are paid and that cell phone upgrade finalized...
The book of Malachi really inspires us to take a full inventory of how we offer the Lord our first fruits...our BEST. He's after our hearts remember...being preeminent in our hearts...foremost in our utmost being.... Offering him first fruits with joy is a way we show him that our action is where our mouth is...that our claim of his preeminence in our life is actually backed up by fruit..the best fruit...the fruit fruit.
From Malachi 1:
But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the Lord's table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the Lord of hosts. And now entreat the favor of God, that he may be gracious to us. With such a gift from your hand, will he show favor to any of you? says the Lord of hosts. Oh that there were one among you who would shut the doors, that you might not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the Lord of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hand. For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name will be great among the nations, says the Lord of hosts. But you profane it when you say that the Lord's table is polluted, and its fruit, that is, its food may be despised. But you say, ‘What a weariness this is,’ and you snort at it, says the Lord of hosts. You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand? says the Lord. Cursed be the cheat who has a male in his flock, and vows it, and yet sacrifices to the Lord what is blemished. For I am a great King, says the Lord of hosts, and my name will be feared among the nations.
Then a graphic illustration that leaves us in shock:
“ If you will not listen, if you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the Lord of hosts, then I will send the curse upon you and I will curse your blessings. Indeed, I have already cursed them, because you do not lay it to heart. Behold, I will rebuke your offspring, and spread dung on your faces, the dung of your offerings, and you shall be taken away with it." Malachi 2:3
Did God just say what I think He said? Yes, he did. Yes, it is graphic. I don't even need to comment. He said what he said. He means what He means. He is a mighty, jealous and passionate God for His People. He will have our best or nothing at all.
So what does giving our first fruits look like?
It will look different for each of us...only each person can take stock of how we each are using the time, talents and treasure that God gives us.
One area we do not typically realize is part of our devotion and first fruits is our emotions. Our emotions? How can that be? Well, I was thinking the other day about the things that stir our hearts...especially things that stir our hearts and are expressed in our words and body language. For example: politics....sports...(yes, it's football season!)...our favorite entertainer and how we can be moved to tears by a musical performance.....How does God register on our scale of emotional response? The Creator of all the Universe...who spoke the world and all we see into existence...made you...loves you...sent his Son to die for you. He deserves more passion than any of the loves in our lives. All too often we are afraid to express passionate devotion to God....folks might think we are weird...yet we have no problem expressing our passion for politics or a favorite dancer on Dancin' w/the Stars (a show I am no fan of but know is popular), or the joy in reading the latest NY Times Bestseller....where is our passion for God? "It's in my heart...I just don't show it" is usually the defense that comes...but do we ever use the same reasoning w/love for our family, hobbies, or anything else in life for that matter? Let's just be brutally honest with ourselves.
Some of us are even taught we *shouldn't* show emotions in worship. Feel them yes, but show them, no. :-) That would call attention to ourselves, perhaps be a distraction to those who like things subdued..more in line w/American worship culture (for yes, it is not biblical culture...we see in scripture that worship is highly expressive in human emotion). We might appear worldly...or worse, we might get carried away and start wailing or speaking in tongues...and we all know the verse about doing all things 'decently and in order' (which has been used so out of context over and over that it becomes the 'catch-all' for stamping out pretty much anything we don't like) LOL Well, this was my mindset not so long ago....
....but...as I began to express the passion I felt inside for God, trying to give him first fruits of my emotions, I've realized something. This is exactly why God gave us emotions. He wants our all...including our deepest emotions of awe, joy and praise. Nothing is more beautiful to him that receiving *all of us*. If people think me weird, I'm happy to be weird for God. Bring on the raised eyebrows and stares. I'll take note of how they look/speak/carry on during their favorite show or sports event, then we'll talk. ha ha ha...
He is our Jealous God. I wonder how he feels to see us more carried on the wings of joy and elation by superficial non-important things in this life than by his Son who He gave for us. It's something to think about. I wonder which offerings he wishes to smear my face with. I have to contemplate this if I am to take inventory of my offerings before him.
From I Chronicles 16: 28-34
"Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength!
Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
bring an offering and come before him!
Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness;
tremble before him, all the earth;
yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved.
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
and let them say among the nations, “The Lord reigns!”
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it!
Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy
before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth.
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever!"
May we offer Him...Sovereign God of all the Universe.... our all and may He alone receive the First Fruits of ourselves. To Him be the glory forever...amen.
What this does reveal to us about God is that He is worthy of our complete and total allegiance, worship, and devotion. Like a passionate husband in love w/his beloved wife...He wants first place in the heart of his bride. Would we want any less passion from God? Would we want a God content to have our leftovers? Content to be ranked somewhere on our list of loves along w/family, chocolate and pets? No. Of course not. We want a jealous God. A God who loves us w/a passion He is unwilling to share for place #1 in our hearts. I want this jealous God! I want him jealous for me!
As a result of this preeminent position in our hearts and lives, he is NOT content with having our leftovers. Leftover time, leftover energy... leftover money after the bills are paid and that cell phone upgrade finalized...
The book of Malachi really inspires us to take a full inventory of how we offer the Lord our first fruits...our BEST. He's after our hearts remember...being preeminent in our hearts...foremost in our utmost being.... Offering him first fruits with joy is a way we show him that our action is where our mouth is...that our claim of his preeminence in our life is actually backed up by fruit..the best fruit...the fruit fruit.
From Malachi 1:
But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the Lord's table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the Lord of hosts. And now entreat the favor of God, that he may be gracious to us. With such a gift from your hand, will he show favor to any of you? says the Lord of hosts. Oh that there were one among you who would shut the doors, that you might not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the Lord of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hand. For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name will be great among the nations, says the Lord of hosts. But you profane it when you say that the Lord's table is polluted, and its fruit, that is, its food may be despised. But you say, ‘What a weariness this is,’ and you snort at it, says the Lord of hosts. You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand? says the Lord. Cursed be the cheat who has a male in his flock, and vows it, and yet sacrifices to the Lord what is blemished. For I am a great King, says the Lord of hosts, and my name will be feared among the nations.
Then a graphic illustration that leaves us in shock:
“ If you will not listen, if you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the Lord of hosts, then I will send the curse upon you and I will curse your blessings. Indeed, I have already cursed them, because you do not lay it to heart. Behold, I will rebuke your offspring, and spread dung on your faces, the dung of your offerings, and you shall be taken away with it." Malachi 2:3
Did God just say what I think He said? Yes, he did. Yes, it is graphic. I don't even need to comment. He said what he said. He means what He means. He is a mighty, jealous and passionate God for His People. He will have our best or nothing at all.
So what does giving our first fruits look like?
It will look different for each of us...only each person can take stock of how we each are using the time, talents and treasure that God gives us.
One area we do not typically realize is part of our devotion and first fruits is our emotions. Our emotions? How can that be? Well, I was thinking the other day about the things that stir our hearts...especially things that stir our hearts and are expressed in our words and body language. For example: politics....sports...(yes, it's football season!)...our favorite entertainer and how we can be moved to tears by a musical performance.....How does God register on our scale of emotional response? The Creator of all the Universe...who spoke the world and all we see into existence...made you...loves you...sent his Son to die for you. He deserves more passion than any of the loves in our lives. All too often we are afraid to express passionate devotion to God....folks might think we are weird...yet we have no problem expressing our passion for politics or a favorite dancer on Dancin' w/the Stars (a show I am no fan of but know is popular), or the joy in reading the latest NY Times Bestseller....where is our passion for God? "It's in my heart...I just don't show it" is usually the defense that comes...but do we ever use the same reasoning w/love for our family, hobbies, or anything else in life for that matter? Let's just be brutally honest with ourselves.
Some of us are even taught we *shouldn't* show emotions in worship. Feel them yes, but show them, no. :-) That would call attention to ourselves, perhaps be a distraction to those who like things subdued..more in line w/American worship culture (for yes, it is not biblical culture...we see in scripture that worship is highly expressive in human emotion). We might appear worldly...or worse, we might get carried away and start wailing or speaking in tongues...and we all know the verse about doing all things 'decently and in order' (which has been used so out of context over and over that it becomes the 'catch-all' for stamping out pretty much anything we don't like) LOL Well, this was my mindset not so long ago....
....but...as I began to express the passion I felt inside for God, trying to give him first fruits of my emotions, I've realized something. This is exactly why God gave us emotions. He wants our all...including our deepest emotions of awe, joy and praise. Nothing is more beautiful to him that receiving *all of us*. If people think me weird, I'm happy to be weird for God. Bring on the raised eyebrows and stares. I'll take note of how they look/speak/carry on during their favorite show or sports event, then we'll talk. ha ha ha...
He is our Jealous God. I wonder how he feels to see us more carried on the wings of joy and elation by superficial non-important things in this life than by his Son who He gave for us. It's something to think about. I wonder which offerings he wishes to smear my face with. I have to contemplate this if I am to take inventory of my offerings before him.
From I Chronicles 16: 28-34
"Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,
ascribe to the Lord glory and strength!
Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
bring an offering and come before him!
Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness;
tremble before him, all the earth;
yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved.
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
and let them say among the nations, “The Lord reigns!”
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it!
Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy
before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth.
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever!"
May we offer Him...Sovereign God of all the Universe.... our all and may He alone receive the First Fruits of ourselves. To Him be the glory forever...amen.
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