I’ve been learning a lot lately about the importance of peace-making; it’s a dirty, thankless job that I’d rather leave to others. If only the Bible wasn’t stuffed with instructions for us to be agents of peace. Like this one, courtesy of Paul: “Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.” That’s from Romans 12:18. I looked it up in four different translations, but it says the same thing in all of them: do everything you can to live in peace with all people. Yikes. “Everything I can” sounds like a lot. That sounds like I might have to work at it, or give something up, or suffer. Yech.
I had some practice with this recently after a meeting where someone was out of sorts and hurt feelings got slung around, and it was my responsibility (as a church staff member!) to intervene. Generally, my instinct is to squish people who are wrong, since I’m not a sweet and merciful person. (I’ve had this conversation with friends about what superpower we’d each like to have, and they often pick something like being able to fly or having x-ray vision … if I had a superpower, it would be to shoot conviction out of my eyeballs at people, to make them sorry for the wrong they have done, to make them repent. Yeah, I know, that’s a little scary. So, anyway…)
This is an email I exchanged with a friend after that meeting:
“It’s hard to demonstrate love and service toward those who are disrespectful of us and others, and I have done exactly what you did during the meeting! I am a big one for rolling my eyes! It is so hard for me to instead think of how I can serve that person, but I am slowly learning. I always want to strike them down with the truth and make them shape up, but God is teaching me that truth never appears without its bosom buddies, love and humility. Clearly God is coaching me on how to speak in love, humility and truth. It’s like it says in Proverbs 24:26 -- “An honest answer is like a kiss of friendship.” How often do I give a brutally honest answer that no one would mistake for friendship or a kiss? More like a sucker punch! But I’m learning that my honesty must be like a kiss, the way I would kiss a beloved friend.”
Sometimes I surprise myself. Despite my tendency for brutal honesty, I’m learning that truth never shows up, biblically, without love and humility to keep it company. Jesus and Paul are great examples for us … truth in one hand, grace in the other. It’s a good start to living in peace.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
“What Love Looks Like”
I was reading yesterday in Micah and started to think about how often God sacrifices on our behalf in order to rescue us. Like most prophetic books in the Old Testament (“visionary” literature), Micah talks about how the Israelites had started down some bad paths that would lead them to bad ends. But then! Always the “but” in the prophets … but if you return to the wise path, the safe path, God’s path, he will deliver you from all your bad choices. He will rescue you and honor you and provide for your children. He will work in your bad circumstances so that things turn out better than you could have hoped. And all you have to do is turn your heart toward him.
(Does this seem controlling to you? Do it my way or you’ll suffer? Consider this: God’s way is the right way. The best way. The honest way. The good way. Which necessarily means, if you subscribe to Western thought, that the other way is not honest, not good, not right. It stands to reason that if you do what’s good, good things happen to you. If you do what’s bad, bad things happen to you. In my opinion, that’s a good system. And, by the way, God is going beyond that by offering to rescue these people who have already gone the wrong way and done bad things and have hurt others. He’s offering to rescue them from their own bad choices.)
So all this rescue and redemption got me thinking about how God always takes the initiative in making peace with us. In rescuing us from our own bad choices. I got to thinking about the Garden of Eden, the first big story in the Bible, when Adam and Eve eat the apple … the first bad choice … and they understand that they have sinned. They willfully chose to go their own way instead of going the way God directed them.
So what does God do? He takes one of the creatures he’s loving sculpted with his own hands, a living, breathing expression of his love and delight, and sacrifices it to cover his people. He takes the skin of an animal and makes clothes to cover Adam & Eve’s nakedness. The first time God sacrifices to cover us. Even in the very beginning, we can’t escape it … God is giving up of himself to reach out to us and protect us … just one example of what love looks like.
(Does this seem controlling to you? Do it my way or you’ll suffer? Consider this: God’s way is the right way. The best way. The honest way. The good way. Which necessarily means, if you subscribe to Western thought, that the other way is not honest, not good, not right. It stands to reason that if you do what’s good, good things happen to you. If you do what’s bad, bad things happen to you. In my opinion, that’s a good system. And, by the way, God is going beyond that by offering to rescue these people who have already gone the wrong way and done bad things and have hurt others. He’s offering to rescue them from their own bad choices.)
So all this rescue and redemption got me thinking about how God always takes the initiative in making peace with us. In rescuing us from our own bad choices. I got to thinking about the Garden of Eden, the first big story in the Bible, when Adam and Eve eat the apple … the first bad choice … and they understand that they have sinned. They willfully chose to go their own way instead of going the way God directed them.
So what does God do? He takes one of the creatures he’s loving sculpted with his own hands, a living, breathing expression of his love and delight, and sacrifices it to cover his people. He takes the skin of an animal and makes clothes to cover Adam & Eve’s nakedness. The first time God sacrifices to cover us. Even in the very beginning, we can’t escape it … God is giving up of himself to reach out to us and protect us … just one example of what love looks like.
Friday, December 19, 2008
“Green Acres,” part two
I have to add this bit about heaven, even though it has to do with kids instead of grass and lions. Someone said to me the other day, “May he come today!”, referring to Christ’s return. I smiled and nodded, but inwardly cringed, “Oh no! I’m not ready. I want to see my nephews grow up.”
Then I realized how absurd a notion that was.
Imagine my beloved nephews growing up to be men in the very presence of God. How awesome would that be? I pray for them to grow up loving Jesus, to be holy and strong and to honor God. Imagine growing up where there was nothing to stop you from doing that … no pain, no evil, no horror. Just love and peace and the presence of God, walking with you in the garden. Or along the streets of gold, if you prefer not to muddy your shoes.
What I would give to have my nephews grow up in God’s presence. I’m ready for Jesus to come today.
Then I realized how absurd a notion that was.
Imagine my beloved nephews growing up to be men in the very presence of God. How awesome would that be? I pray for them to grow up loving Jesus, to be holy and strong and to honor God. Imagine growing up where there was nothing to stop you from doing that … no pain, no evil, no horror. Just love and peace and the presence of God, walking with you in the garden. Or along the streets of gold, if you prefer not to muddy your shoes.
What I would give to have my nephews grow up in God’s presence. I’m ready for Jesus to come today.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
“Green Acres”
I was talking with a friend last week about heaven. He said he has always thought of wide-open space, of glittering hardscapes and fortified walls. He said, “I’ve never thought of green.”
I always think of heaven as a big garden, next to a big field, next to a big grove with a crick. Lots of green, with trees and grass and goats and bears and lions and lambs (and probably my childhood dog, Zachie). My friend and I were talking about John’s sermon (you can check out my church at fellowshiptoday.com) and I mentioned that the tree of life from the Garden of Eden will reappear in heaven, according to Revelation, and heaven has to have grass for the goats and lions to eat.
He looked at me like I was a little nuts. So I told him he could look forward to his previously deceased pets probably being there, too, and the look of skepticism deepened. I had to show him Isaiah 11, where the prophet talks about Jesus and heaven. It says, “In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together; the leopard will lie down with the baby goat… The lion will eat hay like a cow... Nothing will hurt or destroy…”
In Romans 8, Paul writes, “For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day ... Against its will, all creation was subjected to the curse [of sin]. But with eager hope, all creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.”
And listen to what David says in 1 Chronicles 16: “Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice! Let the sea and everything in it shout his praise! Let the fields and their crops burst out with joy! Let the trees of the forest rustle with praise, for the Lord is coming…”
The prophets love to talk about how creation knows its Creator: “The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands,” Isaiah 55:12.
And then there’s Jesus, who in Luke 19:40 says that if his people keep quiet, the rocks and stone will cry out in praise of him.
And, when God took the opportunity to make anything out of nothing, what did he make? What did he lovingly craft and rejoice over and call very good? Earth. Plants, trees, grass and the cows and lions to eat it. He made dogs and cats and birds and bears and flowers, and everything lived in peace and harmony, without death or destruction. So why wouldn’t he include his beloved creation in heaven? Why would he not redeem all of his creation? Why wouldn’t he save everything he made? If the stones and trees (and certainly donkeys, according to Numbers 22) know who he is and wait eagerly for his return, why would he leave them out? Why would he not rescue that which he loves?
I always think of heaven as a big garden, next to a big field, next to a big grove with a crick. Lots of green, with trees and grass and goats and bears and lions and lambs (and probably my childhood dog, Zachie). My friend and I were talking about John’s sermon (you can check out my church at fellowshiptoday.com) and I mentioned that the tree of life from the Garden of Eden will reappear in heaven, according to Revelation, and heaven has to have grass for the goats and lions to eat.
He looked at me like I was a little nuts. So I told him he could look forward to his previously deceased pets probably being there, too, and the look of skepticism deepened. I had to show him Isaiah 11, where the prophet talks about Jesus and heaven. It says, “In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together; the leopard will lie down with the baby goat… The lion will eat hay like a cow... Nothing will hurt or destroy…”
In Romans 8, Paul writes, “For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day ... Against its will, all creation was subjected to the curse [of sin]. But with eager hope, all creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.”
And listen to what David says in 1 Chronicles 16: “Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice! Let the sea and everything in it shout his praise! Let the fields and their crops burst out with joy! Let the trees of the forest rustle with praise, for the Lord is coming…”
The prophets love to talk about how creation knows its Creator: “The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands,” Isaiah 55:12.
And then there’s Jesus, who in Luke 19:40 says that if his people keep quiet, the rocks and stone will cry out in praise of him.
And, when God took the opportunity to make anything out of nothing, what did he make? What did he lovingly craft and rejoice over and call very good? Earth. Plants, trees, grass and the cows and lions to eat it. He made dogs and cats and birds and bears and flowers, and everything lived in peace and harmony, without death or destruction. So why wouldn’t he include his beloved creation in heaven? Why would he not redeem all of his creation? Why wouldn’t he save everything he made? If the stones and trees (and certainly donkeys, according to Numbers 22) know who he is and wait eagerly for his return, why would he leave them out? Why would he not rescue that which he loves?
Monday, December 15, 2008
“Forgiveness and the City”
So I saw this movie the other day, which will remain unnamed so that you don’t (wrongfully) judge me for watching it. See how I look out for you?
Anyway, it’s about friendships and relationships and love. In this movie, a husband cheats on his wife and she leaves him. They’re separated and sharing custody of their son, and he wants to get back together but she can’t bear to even speak to him because of how he has betrayed her. This, I think, is a perfectly fine reaction to a cheating spouse.
So this woman is hurting, and in her hurt, says something devastating to her friend. The friend is wounded enough to not want to talk to her, and refuses to do so for three days. Then the friend leaves her house and the woman is sitting there, waiting for her. Let’s call the woman “Miranda” and the friend “Carrie,” just so you can keep this straight.
Miranda says, Carrie, I can’t stand this. It’s driving me crazy. I’m so sorry I hurt you, you’re my best friend. You can’t shut me out. You HAVE to forgive me.
And Carrie looks at her and says, You say I have to forgive you after three days, but it’s been six months and you still won’t forgive Steve (let’s call the husband “Steve”).
Miranda says, It’s not the same thing.
Carrie says, It’s forgiveness.
To which I say, “Daaaaanngg.”
She’s right.
It’s forgiveness.
How can we, who have been forgiven beyond our own capability to make things right, deny those who ask for it? How can we be so selfish to cling to our own hurt or insult or whatever instead of freely giving that which has already been given to us by God?
Later in the movie, the wife goes to counseling with her husband and he says, I broke a vow, but she did too: she left. She didn’t stay through the “for worse,” she didn’t stay until “death do us part.” (I have to admit I never thought about that part of it. I figured once the marriage was “broke” that gave the other spouse the okay to break it further. But maybe it’s not “broke” as long as you’re still married. Maybe because someone sins against me, it doesn’t give me the right to sin against them.) The wife asks how she can be sure he’ll never cheat again, and the counselor says, You can’t. You can’t be sure he’ll never commit another indiscretion, and you (the husband) can’t be sure she’ll ever really forgive you. The question isn’t “how can you be sure,” the question is, “do you want to make this marriage work?”
I’m no longer in the movie-review business, but movies like this make me wish I was. Who would have thought such an excellent lesson (only one of many) would come from a movie with “City” in the title?
Anyway, it’s about friendships and relationships and love. In this movie, a husband cheats on his wife and she leaves him. They’re separated and sharing custody of their son, and he wants to get back together but she can’t bear to even speak to him because of how he has betrayed her. This, I think, is a perfectly fine reaction to a cheating spouse.
So this woman is hurting, and in her hurt, says something devastating to her friend. The friend is wounded enough to not want to talk to her, and refuses to do so for three days. Then the friend leaves her house and the woman is sitting there, waiting for her. Let’s call the woman “Miranda” and the friend “Carrie,” just so you can keep this straight.
Miranda says, Carrie, I can’t stand this. It’s driving me crazy. I’m so sorry I hurt you, you’re my best friend. You can’t shut me out. You HAVE to forgive me.
And Carrie looks at her and says, You say I have to forgive you after three days, but it’s been six months and you still won’t forgive Steve (let’s call the husband “Steve”).
Miranda says, It’s not the same thing.
Carrie says, It’s forgiveness.
To which I say, “Daaaaanngg.”
She’s right.
It’s forgiveness.
How can we, who have been forgiven beyond our own capability to make things right, deny those who ask for it? How can we be so selfish to cling to our own hurt or insult or whatever instead of freely giving that which has already been given to us by God?
Later in the movie, the wife goes to counseling with her husband and he says, I broke a vow, but she did too: she left. She didn’t stay through the “for worse,” she didn’t stay until “death do us part.” (I have to admit I never thought about that part of it. I figured once the marriage was “broke” that gave the other spouse the okay to break it further. But maybe it’s not “broke” as long as you’re still married. Maybe because someone sins against me, it doesn’t give me the right to sin against them.) The wife asks how she can be sure he’ll never cheat again, and the counselor says, You can’t. You can’t be sure he’ll never commit another indiscretion, and you (the husband) can’t be sure she’ll ever really forgive you. The question isn’t “how can you be sure,” the question is, “do you want to make this marriage work?”
I’m no longer in the movie-review business, but movies like this make me wish I was. Who would have thought such an excellent lesson (only one of many) would come from a movie with “City” in the title?
Friday, December 12, 2008
“Love Changes Everything,” part two
I was following my usual morning routine, steeping a cup of tea, and I read the tiny inscription on my teabag tag. It said, “The power of love is infinite.”
Even Yogi Tea knows this truth. The power of love is infinite.
It kinda blew me away, the same way I feel a little blown away whenever I see that TV commercial for a jewelry store and they say, “Love changes everything.” How does everybody know this and so few people act on it?
Love changes everything, and the power of love is infinite.
Does that do anything for you? Do you have any need in your life for an infinite love that will change everything? I do. I wonder how much I underestimate God’s love, when even my teabag tag proclaims the power of love.
Love forgives. It restores broken relationships. Love has no pride and takes no offense. Love gives of itself. It heals all wounds. Love protects and encourages, love gives hope and enables peace. Love speaks truth and mercy in one breath. Love rescues and redeems. Love ends in joy, kindness, goodness, gentleness, patience and faithfulness. Love sacrifices itself on behalf of the beloved.
There is nowhere Love won’t go. There is no one Love won’t save. There is nothing gone too wrong for Love to transcend and create something beautiful out of it.
What in your life needs this kind of rescue and transformation? Who in your life needs to experience this kind of love? What in your life needs restoration?
Even Yogi Tea knows this truth. The power of love is infinite.
It kinda blew me away, the same way I feel a little blown away whenever I see that TV commercial for a jewelry store and they say, “Love changes everything.” How does everybody know this and so few people act on it?
Love changes everything, and the power of love is infinite.
Does that do anything for you? Do you have any need in your life for an infinite love that will change everything? I do. I wonder how much I underestimate God’s love, when even my teabag tag proclaims the power of love.
Love forgives. It restores broken relationships. Love has no pride and takes no offense. Love gives of itself. It heals all wounds. Love protects and encourages, love gives hope and enables peace. Love speaks truth and mercy in one breath. Love rescues and redeems. Love ends in joy, kindness, goodness, gentleness, patience and faithfulness. Love sacrifices itself on behalf of the beloved.
There is nowhere Love won’t go. There is no one Love won’t save. There is nothing gone too wrong for Love to transcend and create something beautiful out of it.
What in your life needs this kind of rescue and transformation? Who in your life needs to experience this kind of love? What in your life needs restoration?
Thursday, December 11, 2008
“Jesus Has a Tattoo”
Actually, he has two. According to the Bible, that is. Want to know where God has his tats? One of them is on his thigh: “On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” The other one, says Revelation 19, is a secret name written on his body in a secret place. So I guess both secret tattoos and thigh tattoos are okay with God.
I bring this up because yet another one of my friends is getting a tattoo without me. I happen to think tattoos are super holy and everyone who loves Jesus should have one. There’s a rich tradition of tattooing from the early church, when they would get all sorts of religious tattoos that would bear bodily evidence of their commitment to Christ. How holy is that?!
Now some folks point out that there’s a verse that says tattoos are bad, so let’s look at that. It’s in Leviticus 19:28. “Do not cut your bodies for the dead, and do not mark your skin with tattoos.” This is next to the verse instructing God’s people to not wear clothing that has two kinds of thread (no blended fabrics) and not to trim their beads or their sideburns.
Have I mentioned I love the Old Testament?
I love it because it’s such a full, rich story of God’s love for his people, and it’s difficult and tangly and literary. It makes you work. Jesus said “Love your neighbor as yourself and love God with all your heart, soul and mind.” I’m pretty much still working on that one. But I also love the deep and tangly-ness of the Old Testament. Like this example. Leviticus reads a bit like a B-grade slasher flick if you don’t know the context of it. Some of it makes sense and most of it doesn’t, without some research and perspective and context.
But I digress. My point was, if you trim your beard and your sideburns, or if you wear clothing made out of more than just one type of thread, you can go ahead and get a tattoo. People in “those days” used to cut themselves on behalf of their dead (as a sacrifice) and get tattoos that marked them as servants of pagan gods. I still think you shouldn’t do those things, but I’m not giving up my cotton-spandex jeans. We can get into that later.
If you’re on the fence about getting a tattoo, or approving of someone else’s tattoo, just remember that when Jesus comes back, he’s gonna have some serious ink. So you’ve got time to get used to the idea. And if you want to be on the safe side, make sure it’s a tattoo Jesus could get behind. Something with religious connotation, or a cat. Everybody knows Jesus loves cats. He’s the lion of Judah.
I bring this up because yet another one of my friends is getting a tattoo without me. I happen to think tattoos are super holy and everyone who loves Jesus should have one. There’s a rich tradition of tattooing from the early church, when they would get all sorts of religious tattoos that would bear bodily evidence of their commitment to Christ. How holy is that?!
Now some folks point out that there’s a verse that says tattoos are bad, so let’s look at that. It’s in Leviticus 19:28. “Do not cut your bodies for the dead, and do not mark your skin with tattoos.” This is next to the verse instructing God’s people to not wear clothing that has two kinds of thread (no blended fabrics) and not to trim their beads or their sideburns.
Have I mentioned I love the Old Testament?
I love it because it’s such a full, rich story of God’s love for his people, and it’s difficult and tangly and literary. It makes you work. Jesus said “Love your neighbor as yourself and love God with all your heart, soul and mind.” I’m pretty much still working on that one. But I also love the deep and tangly-ness of the Old Testament. Like this example. Leviticus reads a bit like a B-grade slasher flick if you don’t know the context of it. Some of it makes sense and most of it doesn’t, without some research and perspective and context.
But I digress. My point was, if you trim your beard and your sideburns, or if you wear clothing made out of more than just one type of thread, you can go ahead and get a tattoo. People in “those days” used to cut themselves on behalf of their dead (as a sacrifice) and get tattoos that marked them as servants of pagan gods. I still think you shouldn’t do those things, but I’m not giving up my cotton-spandex jeans. We can get into that later.
If you’re on the fence about getting a tattoo, or approving of someone else’s tattoo, just remember that when Jesus comes back, he’s gonna have some serious ink. So you’ve got time to get used to the idea. And if you want to be on the safe side, make sure it’s a tattoo Jesus could get behind. Something with religious connotation, or a cat. Everybody knows Jesus loves cats. He’s the lion of Judah.
Friday, December 5, 2008
“The Transporter,” part two
Don’t you just love movies? I do. I like the ones where the good guys are good, the bad guys are bad, and after some twists and turns (and a good car chase would be nice) the good guys win and kiss the girl, while the bad guys come to bad ends.
What I like about the Transporter is how good he is: he’s a very good “good guy” (notwithstanding some illegal activities). He does what is expected of him, and he does it with unsurpassed excellence. He’s always calm, because he knows he can handle whatever the “bad guys” throw at him and still save the day. He even transforms violence into a dance.
I used to try to live my life that way, too. I was a little smug in my confidence that I could be an excellent “good girl.” That I could win people to Jesus through my goodness. How long do you think that lasted? About 30 years? But here’s the secret: I was never really that good. Nor was my life particularly characterized by love, joy and peace. It was boring, safe and isolated from the world. No car chases, no daring feats, no rescuing those oppressed by the enemy. No need for the ultimate stuntman. My story was all about me.
It was a quiet, safe, dull little story that would never change anyone’s life. Whenever I did something wrong, made a mistake, or failed, I cut that part out of the script, so that my main character would look good. I wanted everything to look good, to be tidy.
It’s really hard to keep that up. I ended up with a lot of guilt and oppression, a lot of “should” and “ought to.” My movie sucked. Whenever I read those verses in Romans 12, I felt bad about not measuring up instead of feeling empowered by them. But Jesus said it would be easy to be a Christian. He did. In Matthew 11:29 & 30, he said “My yoke is easy and my burden is light. You will find rest for your souls.” And then he told Paul to write all of that stuff about forgiving anyone who offends you and living in harmony and joy. What?!
Then I read a book that changed my life. Everything onscreen shifted from being about me to being about God. Suddenly I understood that God wanted to make a new story out of the old: a story that highlighted some of my biggest failures instead of covering them up. And he wanted a casting shift too: a new hero. Instead of me being the main character of my life, he was. Suddenly my crummy little movie was an action-romance, with the ultimate stuntman.
With God as the director/screen-writer, the whole story of my life shifted from being about me to being about him. Instead of focusing on myself and trying to be good because I “should,” I could focus on him and not worry about my reputation. Now when I see the movie of my life, I weep, it is so beautiful. Shifted, my story is all about hope and grace and love and redemption, and I’m grateful he has made the ugliness into romance, and the dullness into bright action.
And it frees me to behave “good,” without pressure or threat of condemnation. Because he has been sincere to me, I can be sincere. Because he has been patient with me, I can be patient with irritating others. Because he has forgiven me all my offenses, I can forgive anyone who offends me. Because he has blessed me, I can bless, and not curse, those who annoy me or persecute me.
God is the ultimate stuntman. There is nothing too hard for him to make spectacular.
What in your life’s story would you like God to transform from burdensome to spectacular? What kind of movie do you want God to make out of your life? Are you willing to let him?
What I like about the Transporter is how good he is: he’s a very good “good guy” (notwithstanding some illegal activities). He does what is expected of him, and he does it with unsurpassed excellence. He’s always calm, because he knows he can handle whatever the “bad guys” throw at him and still save the day. He even transforms violence into a dance.
I used to try to live my life that way, too. I was a little smug in my confidence that I could be an excellent “good girl.” That I could win people to Jesus through my goodness. How long do you think that lasted? About 30 years? But here’s the secret: I was never really that good. Nor was my life particularly characterized by love, joy and peace. It was boring, safe and isolated from the world. No car chases, no daring feats, no rescuing those oppressed by the enemy. No need for the ultimate stuntman. My story was all about me.
It was a quiet, safe, dull little story that would never change anyone’s life. Whenever I did something wrong, made a mistake, or failed, I cut that part out of the script, so that my main character would look good. I wanted everything to look good, to be tidy.
It’s really hard to keep that up. I ended up with a lot of guilt and oppression, a lot of “should” and “ought to.” My movie sucked. Whenever I read those verses in Romans 12, I felt bad about not measuring up instead of feeling empowered by them. But Jesus said it would be easy to be a Christian. He did. In Matthew 11:29 & 30, he said “My yoke is easy and my burden is light. You will find rest for your souls.” And then he told Paul to write all of that stuff about forgiving anyone who offends you and living in harmony and joy. What?!
Then I read a book that changed my life. Everything onscreen shifted from being about me to being about God. Suddenly I understood that God wanted to make a new story out of the old: a story that highlighted some of my biggest failures instead of covering them up. And he wanted a casting shift too: a new hero. Instead of me being the main character of my life, he was. Suddenly my crummy little movie was an action-romance, with the ultimate stuntman.
With God as the director/screen-writer, the whole story of my life shifted from being about me to being about him. Instead of focusing on myself and trying to be good because I “should,” I could focus on him and not worry about my reputation. Now when I see the movie of my life, I weep, it is so beautiful. Shifted, my story is all about hope and grace and love and redemption, and I’m grateful he has made the ugliness into romance, and the dullness into bright action.
And it frees me to behave “good,” without pressure or threat of condemnation. Because he has been sincere to me, I can be sincere. Because he has been patient with me, I can be patient with irritating others. Because he has forgiven me all my offenses, I can forgive anyone who offends me. Because he has blessed me, I can bless, and not curse, those who annoy me or persecute me.
God is the ultimate stuntman. There is nothing too hard for him to make spectacular.
What in your life’s story would you like God to transform from burdensome to spectacular? What kind of movie do you want God to make out of your life? Are you willing to let him?
Thursday, December 4, 2008
“The Transporter”
If a movie was made of your life, what would it say? What story would your life tell?
It seems like the stories in the Bible are all blockbusters: The 10 Commandments, One Night with the King, David & Goliath, The Passion of the Christ, The Robe, etc. They’re all flash and drama, life & death, lions and soldiers and bears (Elisha calling bears out of the woods to maul teenagers, “Final Destination”-style, anyone?)
If a movie was made of my life, it would look exactly like The Transporter. Except without the action and clever driving, without the stunts and the madeleines and without a shirtless Jason Statham.
But there would be rules. Be good. Be patient. Stop talking so much. Clean the house. Stuff I beat myself up over. And a lot of boring sameness day-to-day. Drive to work. Come home. Fix dinner. Do some laundry. Read/watch TV/bathe the cats. Feed the goats, knit, think about vacuuming but decide against it. Doesn’t sound too interesting, or important. It seems like, basically, what I do doesn’t matter.
Have you ever noticed that, in a movie, everything matters? Even the “boring” stuff tells us something the filmmaker thinks we need to know about the character, about the story that’s being told with their life.
What story is your life telling? When you drive to work, what do others see? While you’re at work, what story is being told? Is there meaning in the mundane? Think about the people you interact with over the course of the week … how many of those people would you invite to church, after you’ve crossed paths with them? The store clerk? The guy who cut you off? Your annoying co-worker? Does your life tell a story that would make such an invitation awkward or easy?
When you work at a church, you think of these things. There’s a lot of pressure to not have a bad day, or moment, because people know who you are and may or may not come to church based on the way they see you behave. “And this is the final proof to the world that I exist: that you love one another.” Jesus lays it on thick for the disciples in John 13:35.
My sister and I joke about this.
At the store, when they cannot get our purchase right and then overcharge us, we have to be patient and sweet (and let’s face it, people know when you’re faking) because otherwise we can’t invite that person to church. Or their brother. Or their friend, because they will advise them against us. So we joke about it instead, and look out for each other, to diffuse each other and take a breath before we ruin our opportunity for love.
Why is it so hard to live in the grace and peace and joy God has freely offered to us? “As far as it depends on you, live at peace with all people.” (Romans 12:18) Are you kidding me? Listen to what else he says: Be sincere. Honor one another above yourselves. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Bless, and do not curse, those who annoy you or persecute you. Live in harmony. Do not be proud. Do not be conceited. Be friends with those who are lowly. Feed your enemies good food, and give them fresh water when they are thirsty. Etc., etc.
Unfortunately, this is not always the story my life tells. What story does your life tell? What story do you want it to tell?
It seems like the stories in the Bible are all blockbusters: The 10 Commandments, One Night with the King, David & Goliath, The Passion of the Christ, The Robe, etc. They’re all flash and drama, life & death, lions and soldiers and bears (Elisha calling bears out of the woods to maul teenagers, “Final Destination”-style, anyone?)
If a movie was made of my life, it would look exactly like The Transporter. Except without the action and clever driving, without the stunts and the madeleines and without a shirtless Jason Statham.
But there would be rules. Be good. Be patient. Stop talking so much. Clean the house. Stuff I beat myself up over. And a lot of boring sameness day-to-day. Drive to work. Come home. Fix dinner. Do some laundry. Read/watch TV/bathe the cats. Feed the goats, knit, think about vacuuming but decide against it. Doesn’t sound too interesting, or important. It seems like, basically, what I do doesn’t matter.
Have you ever noticed that, in a movie, everything matters? Even the “boring” stuff tells us something the filmmaker thinks we need to know about the character, about the story that’s being told with their life.
What story is your life telling? When you drive to work, what do others see? While you’re at work, what story is being told? Is there meaning in the mundane? Think about the people you interact with over the course of the week … how many of those people would you invite to church, after you’ve crossed paths with them? The store clerk? The guy who cut you off? Your annoying co-worker? Does your life tell a story that would make such an invitation awkward or easy?
When you work at a church, you think of these things. There’s a lot of pressure to not have a bad day, or moment, because people know who you are and may or may not come to church based on the way they see you behave. “And this is the final proof to the world that I exist: that you love one another.” Jesus lays it on thick for the disciples in John 13:35.
My sister and I joke about this.
At the store, when they cannot get our purchase right and then overcharge us, we have to be patient and sweet (and let’s face it, people know when you’re faking) because otherwise we can’t invite that person to church. Or their brother. Or their friend, because they will advise them against us. So we joke about it instead, and look out for each other, to diffuse each other and take a breath before we ruin our opportunity for love.
Why is it so hard to live in the grace and peace and joy God has freely offered to us? “As far as it depends on you, live at peace with all people.” (Romans 12:18) Are you kidding me? Listen to what else he says: Be sincere. Honor one another above yourselves. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Bless, and do not curse, those who annoy you or persecute you. Live in harmony. Do not be proud. Do not be conceited. Be friends with those who are lowly. Feed your enemies good food, and give them fresh water when they are thirsty. Etc., etc.
Unfortunately, this is not always the story my life tells. What story does your life tell? What story do you want it to tell?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
"Love Changes Everything"
Love is a universal language. Have you noticed how everything is about love? Especially Christmas, and just about every movie and song ever made.
We’re obsessed with love in Western civilization, especially in the US. We love our Sketchers and sunshine and money and friends and our pets and our nation. Or we hate all that, because we love something else. Narcissism, maybe. We’re all about love. It’s crazy sad how we run around looking for someone/thing to love us, something to complete or define us in a way that makes us feel special and fulfilled. Satisfied. Whole. 300 million Americans running around like chickens looking for a crumb of love.
Love is a universal language. “Everybody” knows what it feels like to fall in love, how it changes everything. How it feels, how it shifts you, the high it gives you. Being in love makes a difference in our day-to-day lives. Love changes everything, especially the course of our future.
Is it the same kind of love affair between us & God? Does it change your day-to-day life? Does it make a difference when things aren’t going well?
Ephesians 3:19 says, “May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it.” Notice Paul says "experience," not just "know." Does your experience of love change how you relate to others? In 2 Corinthians 8:24, Paul writes, “Show them … the proof of your love.” Not of God’s love for us, but of our love for God.
The Women of Faith team wrote this: “Love is difficult to define. It doesn’t simplify matters to define love by saying that God is love, because we can’t really define him either. But think about it for a minute. God says, ‘I am God. I am love, These are my people and I love them. How have I behaved toward those I love? See, this is what love expects, how love reacts, what love is willing to do. This is love.’”
Do you know that God loves you? Does that make a difference? Is God your beloved? Do you think of your beloved and smile?
We’re obsessed with love in Western civilization, especially in the US. We love our Sketchers and sunshine and money and friends and our pets and our nation. Or we hate all that, because we love something else. Narcissism, maybe. We’re all about love. It’s crazy sad how we run around looking for someone/thing to love us, something to complete or define us in a way that makes us feel special and fulfilled. Satisfied. Whole. 300 million Americans running around like chickens looking for a crumb of love.
Love is a universal language. “Everybody” knows what it feels like to fall in love, how it changes everything. How it feels, how it shifts you, the high it gives you. Being in love makes a difference in our day-to-day lives. Love changes everything, especially the course of our future.
Is it the same kind of love affair between us & God? Does it change your day-to-day life? Does it make a difference when things aren’t going well?
Ephesians 3:19 says, “May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it.” Notice Paul says "experience," not just "know." Does your experience of love change how you relate to others? In 2 Corinthians 8:24, Paul writes, “Show them … the proof of your love.” Not of God’s love for us, but of our love for God.
The Women of Faith team wrote this: “Love is difficult to define. It doesn’t simplify matters to define love by saying that God is love, because we can’t really define him either. But think about it for a minute. God says, ‘I am God. I am love, These are my people and I love them. How have I behaved toward those I love? See, this is what love expects, how love reacts, what love is willing to do. This is love.’”
Do you know that God loves you? Does that make a difference? Is God your beloved? Do you think of your beloved and smile?
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