Father’s Day—A Response

I always find myself sad around Father’s Day. Yes, I still battle periodic bouts of anger at my own father. He gave up on life at a relatively early age and finished his race poorly, leaving behind unfinished business and unspoken wisdom that went to the grave with him. I strive to break this pattern.

Perhaps this is part of the reason why come Father’s Day I recount my own failures as a father, I replay missed opportunities and fight away the “if only” game in the wee hours of the morning. Being a father is a tough gig; there’s no manual or how-to book; and most of the examples in the parenting books or family-oriented ministries are from “perfect” families with average problems. Or at least that’s the way it seems.

 

But Hold On

But still my boys love me. My bride listens to my pity-party rants then replies gently that I’m not alone and that I’m loved. So maybe I’ve misunderstood fathering. Maybe it’s less the doing and more the being—being a father, being there for my boys, and being there for my wife. Even in all my failures in not “doing” things right I was still being the best father I knew to be. My father hated his father; he never even talked about him. So apparently my father didn’t have the best example. But my dad was there, being the best father he knew to be. We didn’t play catch much and we didn’t go camping, but he came home every night, kissed my mom and patted me on the head.

Maybe that’s the legacy my father gave me, while he finished his race poorly, he was still being the best he knew as I was growing up.  So now, in the strength of the Lord, Whom my father didn’t know, I will continue being the best father I can be; I will carry the legacy of my father and take it to the next level. Then when the torch of life is handed off to my boys, they then can go even higher.

Being Dad 

Maybe that’s what being a father is all about, being there and being the best I know how, even through my weakness. Jesus said he would never leave me and he exhorted Paul that, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (Matthew 28:20 and 2 Corinthians 12:8).

Peter, Paradigm Shifting, and Inclusiveness

In chapter 10 of the Book of Acts, we see Cornelius, a Gentile and Roman officer; experience a visitation from God by way of a vision. In the vision, he is encouraged to call upon the Apostle Peter to come to his house and teach him and his family all that Peter has learned from Jesus (vv. 1-8, 33). Meanwhile, Peter is having a different kind of vision from the Lord. His vision includes a large sheet and many different types of animals typically thought of as unclean to practicing Jews. However, the Lord tells Peter that what He, God, has cleansed, is not to be considered unclean.

As this drama unfolds, Peter is standing front and center in the home of Cornelius and his family teaching them about salvation in Jesus Christ. To Peter’s astonishment, they all accept the free gift of salvation by believing on the name of Jesus Christ. The reason Peter knew this was because “the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard the word” (v. 44, ESV). God then and there confirmed to Peter that He was, is, and always will be the God all, not just the God of Israel.

However, as we read in Chapter 11, the leadership of the young and emerging churched birthed in Christ were not convinced; and when Peter appeared to them, they grilled him on how could such a thing as Gentiles being baptized be ordained of God. Peter gave an eloquent defense, concluding with the following:

“If therefore God gave them  the same gift as He gave us when we believed on the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could withstand God?”

When they heard these things they became silent; and glorified God, saying, “Then God has also granted to the Gentiles repentance to life.” (Peter to the apostles and brethren in Jerusalem and their response, Acts 11:17-18, NKJV).

Silence and the work of the Spirit

I picture significant soul-searching and prayer going on in the phrase, “they became silent.” What Peter spoke to these men was a seismic paradigm shift; even though they had already witnessed Jesus reaching out to the Gentiles while in His earthly ministry, they still held to their old notions of exclusivity. These men had significant leadership responsibility in the emerging church and they wanted to do their best; but upon hearing Peter’s account they had to stop and deeply consider the serious implications of his words.

I imagine they were thinking something like this, “Could it really be true that those we’ve called ‘dogs’ are now part of the family?”  To agree with Peter meant inviting…them…into the very heart of life with God. But in that gap of silence it appears that the Lord filled these men with many words of confirmation, so much so, this record closes with cheerful expression of glorifying God (11:18).

My View vs. God's View
This record leads me to ask, “How does this apply to my Twenty First Century life?” It reminds me of the many times I have said to myself and to others, “Boy, if he’d just believe he’d be a great Christian.” Such a phrase has usually been applied to someone who is, frankly, like me; talk about exclusivity! Thankfully I have recognized this trait and have made strides of change. Besides, who am I to judge what a “great Christian” is or is not; no one except the Lord foresaw Paul and his conversion and subsequent impact for the Kingdom. Clearly this record shows that holding to notions of heritage or similarity as determiners of who will or won’t be in God’s family is absurd and ungodly. The early leaders of the church quickly recognized this and, as this record indicates, glorified God for His grace and mercy being extended beyond their original expectations. They had courage to respond positively to God, so we must as well.

God and Cultural Diversity

I’ve been away from blogging for awhile because I have again enrolled in Seminary, now I am at Corban University, School of Ministry. I just finished my first semester, and it appears I fared okay. Anyway, one of the assignments in my Ministering Cross-Culturally class was to speak about our impressions of a passage in Revelation 5.

⁹ And they sang a new song:

“You are worthy to take the scroll

and to open its seals,

because you were slain,

and with your blood you purchased men for God

from every tribe and language and people and nation.

¹⁰ You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God,

and they will reign on the earth.” ^(NIV)

All From Everywhere

While I don’t want to be trite I can’t help but invoke the tune “I Can Only Imagine” by MercyMe. The gathering described in this section is beyond imagination and instills in me a deep sense of awe and worship. As I think that one day I will be able to worship the Lamb is staggering; what’s more, is thinking about how I will be worshipping with my fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord—astounding! Perhaps this is the core message of the genuine value of cultural diversity, that not only are we all made in the image of God, but that He wills that we are all saved and come unto the knowledge of the truth (1 Tim. 2:4). While not all will be saved, the picture is that God desires that they all be saved, and by “they” I mean all from everywhere, no respecter of persons, no hand-picking, no discrimination, no socioeconomic assessment and on and on….

An inclusive God is patiently waiting to have His family gathered at His throne, what are we (what am I) doing to facilitate that awesome and glorious gathering? And right now, even today, I may very well be the conduit of the Lord that draws another into the family to be at that great and glorious gathering. What, if anything, is standing in the way of me being that conduit? If there is anything standing in the way, eradicate it so one more soul can sing alongside me, “Worthy is the Lamb!”

The Lawyer, the Dawning and the Good Samaritan

Recently, in a class I’m taking at Corban University, the professor asked us to look at Luke 10:25-37, the parable about the Good Samaritan, as if we were reading it for the first time. As I attempted this, unexpected thoughts came flooding in.

 

I was raised by a lawyer, entertained going to law school myself, but have instead worked in government for over 26 years. I understand, have written, and enforce statutes, rules, policies, and procedures. So for the first time, I somehow related to the lawyer, maybe I never have before because I know we typically want to point our fingers at him to condemn him as arrogant and bigoted; he’s the guy we don’t want to be. Could it be, however, that we all have a little bit of this guy in us?

Insecurity or More?

I’ve read commentaries that state his question about “who’s my neighbor” reveals insecurity. They’re probably right because the commentators are smarter than me, but could it be that the guy was really confused and scared that all he knew could be wrong? Yes, he's testing Jesus, and traditional thinking suggests he's motivated by wanting to make Jesus look bad so that he can look good to the religious leaders. But consider for a moment that he could also have a deeper desire to know what is truly right and wrong; and his position allows him access to Jesus to pose such questions. Maybe he’s a bureaucrat that really wants to do the “right thing” but Jesus is clearly revealing that “right” is different than what he’s ever known. If so, insecurity seems too simplistic a description; maybe he really wanted to know the truth but when the truth was revealed it over-amped his ability to process it immediately. As the parable progresses, it only adds to his confusion, but if he’s willing, it will also illuminate within him a deeper understanding.

Then there’s the record itself. A “certain man” goes from Jerusalem to Jericho. I think by implication we can assume he’s a Jew. He gets robbed and beaten up pretty badly. This is an ugly scene, but hopefully the “good guy” will come along to help this poor soul. Well, culturally, the good guy does indeed come along, in fact, he comes along in two ways—a priest and a Levite—and neither one stops to help. In fact, each goes out of his way to avoid helping what we assume to be a person just like them. So who does help him, the culturally prescribed bad guy—a Samaritan. Jesus has completely reversed the stereotypes of that day. Frankly, he’s also reversed the stereotypes of our day as well.

The Dawning

The record ends with the lawyer admitting that the one, the Samaritan, “who showed mercy” was the neighbor to the one that had been beaten up. Even though the lawyer wasn’t quite able to say the word ‘Samaritan’, he at least seems to grasp the teaching—a neighbor, a person helping another person—isn’t based on heritage or status, but on need. To “go and do likewise” is to recognize that God is not responding based on culture or social status, but on need and we’re called to do the same. To be like Jesus we need to be prepared to enter into the other person’s world with a heart of compassion, not judgment or condemnation. As we do this, we’ll begin to better understand that God is the God of all humanity, not just the God of our church, or race, or country. And remember, God states very clearly in Genesis that we are all made in His image.  And Jesus, God in the flesh, served those in need, Jews, Samaritans, and even Gentiles. 

What's in a Name: I Get It!

These things I have written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life.

̶ 1 John 5:13

Years ago a high school friend of mine tried to convince me of the deity of Christ. He knew I was in a cult that I perceived as genuinely Christian. This cult, at that time called The Way International, did not believe in the deity of Christ. While I believe I was already saved at that point, I was not grounded in Christian doctrine nor connected to any church, so I was vulnerable to the lies of the world about Jesus. My friend Jim (not his real name), greatly desired for me to break through these lies and into an understanding of Christ’s deity. He used the book of First John as his text. Throughout this text Christ is referred to as the Son, not as God. He would say to me, “See, He’s God’s Son, so that makes Him God.”

“Well,” I began, “I’m Marv’s son as well, but that doesn't make me Marv.”

And on our debate went. He couldn't explain the deity any better than the previous example.

I Get It

Since those days, I have come to see my error and now know that Jesus was indeed God in the flesh. My flagship Scripture is:

“And now, O Father, glorify Me together with Yourself, with the glory which I had with you before the world was.”

─Jesus, John 17:5

This John 17 verse drips with pre-existence and deity, but that’s another blog. Suffice it to say that I believe in the deity of Jesus Christ. So where am I going with this?

Go back and quickly review the opening verse. A key to understanding the deity of Christ in 1 John is to understand the phrase “in the name of.” The Greek word for name means, well, name, but it also means reputation. So the meaning in 1 John is, I believe, both/and: It is encouraging us to believe in both the name and reputation of Christ.

In the Name

Think about that for a moment. The word Christ means messiah. Jesus was called the Christ, the Messiah (Matthew 1:16). He was also called Immanuel which means God with us (Matthew 1:23, Isaiah 7:14).  Jesus’s name means, at least in part, Messiah—God with us. So to the point of 1 John, to believe in the name of Christ, is to believe all the way into understanding and accepting that He was the Messiah and was God with us.

So while Jim didn’t understand the depth of the detail of 1 John as has been briefly explained here, he at least kept me thinking about the deity of Christ throughout my lifetime until I finally arrived at accepting it for myself.  Thank you, Jim!

What about you? Do you believe the deity of Christ? Or have you bought the lie of our secular culture and of many cults that He was nothing more than a great man? 

What is Giving Glory to God?

Glory to God in the highest.

─Luke 2:14

 

I’m fascinated by this angelic proclamation. What’s more, I’m even more fascinated by Scripture commanding us to give glory to God.

 

What does it mean for us to give glory to God? Do we have any glory to even give to God? Doesn’t our glory actually come from God? And if this is true, then are we really giving back to Him what He’s already given to us?

 

In Luke 17:18, Jesus said:

 

“Were there not any found who returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?” (Emphasis mine)

 

The context is ten lepers implored Jesus to heal them by crying out, “Master, have mercy on us.”

 

In fathomless compassion Jesus granted their wish, provided they followed His instruction to go show themselves to the priests. In obedience they marched off toward the priests. On their way, they were cleansed, healed of this fatal malady. Of the ten whom He healed, only one came back to Jesus to “give glory” to God.

This is an interesting record on many fronts. Of particular note is Scripture indicates that by this man’s faith he was saved. His faith was demonstrated by his return to Jesus to give glory to God; the man knew that only God could perform this miracle.

 

Setting Aside Self

But aside from that, we need to note that the man turned from his own plan, moved off his own course, and come back to “give glory” to God. He was on a very serious mission, healing for himself. However, even in the midst of his self-concern he recognized that the miraculous had just happened; he was healed of his leprosy. And setting aside his own agenda, he came back to Jesus to acknowledge, to proclaim, to publicly express his gratitude, his praise, his love for such a great God.

 

Suddenly, by way of this divine intervention, he no longer had to move away from people while yelling, “Unclean, unclean;” no longer would he have to endure the accusation of what caused him to contract such a fatal disease; he would no longer have to endure his own countrymen assuming some dastardly sin on him that invoked God’s wrath. Now he could go to the market and blend in with everyone else. He could move away from the leper colony where he’d been banished because of his disease and move back into his home—if he still had one. He was, for the first time in years, whole.  

 

Making Sense of Words

The word “give” in this account is a present-active-indicative showing us that the man intentionally endeavored to render, or give, glory to God. The definition of “give”, at least according to Strong's Concordance, is “of one’s accord to bestow or grant something to someone.” In other words, he purposed in his heart to return to Jesus to bestow something upon Him.

 

The word “glory” means “a good opinion resulting in praise.” Synonyms include adoration, devotion, and worship.

 

Putting these together we see a man diverting from his own agenda to intentionally return to Jesus for the purpose of bestowing upon Him praise, adoration, and worship because of this miraculous gift of deliverance.

 

Now think about the angels appearing to the shepherds in Luke 2 proclaiming “Glory to God!” In what were they referring to? Simple, the salvation of the world; by way of the little infant, Immanuel, God with us, all of humanity has opportunity to, by faith, be saved, to be delivered from a destiny separated from God because of sin.

 

Resolution

So now that Christmas 2012 has come and gone, one question remains: do we “give glory” to God? Are we like the one healed leper that came back and recognized Jesus for His gift? Do our lives praise Jesus for pulling us out of the “leprosy of our souls” and placing us into His saving grace? Or, instead, do our lives show indifference just as the other nine lepers? 

 

Maybe now, as the New Year approaches, is the time to reflect on how our lives truly reflect (or don’t reflect) Jesus. Do we exhibit the love of Christ or the judgmentalism the world accuses us of? If we struggle with giving glory to God because we’ve never received such an obvious miracle as the leper, then maybe we need to stop the videos in our brain, pause the iPod of our soul, and deeply reflect on the truth that, if you have accepted Christ, you are a new creation in Him and destined for Heaven; your soul has been plucked out of the gates of Hell and placed firmly into the Kingdom of God. That alone is miracle enough for any of us.

 

We can resolve from this point forward to give Him glory and become light-givers.  We can become attractive to those in the dark longing to be in the light. And just like the Samaritan leper returning to bestow praise on Jesus we to can become public expressions of praise to Jesus. Because of Him we are now children of light, now is the time to let that light so shine. In doing this our lives will become supernaturally magnetic, attracting the broken who desire the same healing and deliverance we have.

When Caleb Went Missing

 

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

─Matthew 19:14

 

It’s taken me months to write about this. In fact, it was so upsetting to me that I didn’t even journal about it. But in light of this nation’s recent tragedies, I think it’s time to share my brush with child loss that occurred sometime this last summer.

 

It was a beautiful, blazingly hot day, I think sometime in August. My youngest son, Caleb, and I decided to head to Keizer Rapids Park, the nearest hiking opportunity.   We both love to hike, especially if there’s some water involved, which at this park is the Willamette River.  There’s also lots of foliage and ample places for evil to lurk and hide. Of course such a suspicious thought didn’t occur to me until after I couldn’t find Caleb.

 

The Dirt Slide

We were at the back part of the park nearing the edge of paved portion of the trail. The pavement gave way to dirt paths strewn with river rock and tall, brown grasses growing along the sides of the path. Just before the pavement ends was a side trail, it was dirt and very steep but relatively short. It led to a landing very close to the river’s edge. Caleb wanted to go down this trail because it looked like fun. And why not, it was like a natural slide, what little boy wouldn’t want to slide down such a cool dirt slide. I figured it was okay and I’d follow right behind him. However, kneeling down to ready myself for the slide, my neck ached reminding me that such a jaunt would be unwise with a tender triple fusion. So I told Caleb to stay right where he was at the foot of the path while I went around to a less challenging path not 30 seconds away.

 

“Okay, Dad,” he said.

 

So I hustled off to the other path that cut through a dense blackberry thicket and came out right where Caleb should have been.

 

But he was gone.   

 

At first I was perturbed thinking he was just hiding somewhere, but he was nowhere to be found in the nearby bushes. I quickly scanned the landing area and saw nothing but grass, dirt, and the river. Now the first tendrils of panic started tugging at the fringes of conscious thought. I wanted to yell out his name but didn’t, thinking that if he were safe I didn’t want to alert any would-be pedophiles that a little boy was running around unattended.

 

I shot up the steep path, slipping, falling, and clawing my way to the top. Nothing, no Caleb. I ran the steps I had trod thinking maybe he misunderstood my instructions and followed me down the other path. But circling back to where he should have been again turned up nothing.

 

Not My Child

Now I began fighting back visions of calling in an Amber Alert. Not my little boy, not my family, no way, this is not happening! I rebuke those thoughts. Still they kept flashing like sinister light bulbs of a demonic paparazzi. Amber Alert, Amber Alert, Amber Alert…

 

Statistically I know that the first 20 minutes of a child abduction are the most critical.  So far I calculated we had clicked off five minutes and still no blonde haired, hazel eyed little boy. I ran to the river’s edge but saw and heard no thrashing. There was a teenage boy on a rocky outcropping looking like he was crawdadding.  I called out to him.

 

“Hey, hey you,” he looked my way. “Have you seen a little blonde boy running along the edge?” I’m sure he could hear the desperation in my voice.

 

“No, man; sorry. Haven’t seen anyone ‘cept you.”

 

“Okay, thanks.”

 

Oh God, I need You now..WHERE IS MY LITTLE BOY?? You’ve got to help me!!

Panic was becoming very real now through a pounding pulse, sweaty palms and horrible thoughts of what evil could be unleashed on such an innocent soul. “No,” I screamed to myself. I had to stay calm; I had to stay as focused as possible if I had any hope of seeing my little boy alive and in my arms again.

 

Along with agonizing prayer I also had a Building 429 lyric repeating in my mind; for some reason, I found the lyric calming, helping me remain focused on the unfolding tragedy:

 

“All I know is I’m not home yet/This is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus/This is not where I belong.”

 

Another refrain from the song also echoed over the Amber Alert fears:

 

“When the earth shakes, I wanna be found in You/When the lights fade, I wanna be found in You.”

 

I started running down all the nearby paths, but there were so many, how was I to choose the right one? If I took path A and the pedophile took path B, I may very well never see Caleb again. O God, where do I go?

 

I broke down and started yelling his name at the top of my lungs, “Caleb, Caleb, where are you? Caleb?” I figured bad guys might now know he’s unattended but then so would any good guys—if there were any. Normal adults are always willing to help a lost child, aren’t they?

 

Mom

Coming up on fifteen minutes and still no Caleb I was confronted with the crushing decision to call the police, or worse, Janey (my bride and Caleb’s Mom). It was the worst phone call I’ve ever had to make.

 

“Hello,” she answered in her typically sweet voice. I’m sure she was expecting to hear that we had a good time and were heading home. Instead, she heard,

 

“We’re still at Keizer Rapids and Caleb’s missing.”

 

“What?! What do you mean?”

 

I was running down different paths while talking to her, so my voice was breathless and jerky. “I mean we got separated and I can’t find him. He’s missing and I can’t find him.”

 

What would you do if you got this phone call? Right in the middle of grocery shopping with her mother she dropped everything, “I’m coming there right now.”

 

“Okay, if he isn’t with me by then, we’ll have to call the police.”

 

Silence, she was on her way.  So I kept running down forest lined trails and grass lined trails. I went near the river hoping not to find a body and then running back toward the forested area of the park.

 

Breathless, I came up to a woman on the paved path walking her large dog.

 

“Have you…have you seen a little blonde boy with an explorers vest on,” I panted.

 

Pulling her dog a little closer she said, “Yeah, I saw him near the parking lot. He smiled and said ‘hi’ to me. …”

 

She kept talking but I started sprinting, calling a quick “Thank you” over my shoulder as I quickly decided which trail was the quickest to parking lot, which was close to a mile away.

 

Now because of my neck fusion, I don’t sprint anymore, it’s too much jolting on the fusion site; but fusion be damned, I sprinted faster than I’ve probably ever sprinted before. Panting and sweating, I was also yelling his name, “I’m coming Caleb, Daddy’s coming.”

Sweet Reunion

Rounding past the last corner on side of the amphitheater I saw him at the top of the grassy hill bordering the back part of the theater bowl. Seeing me he started running my way—his eyes wide with fright. I grabbed him, hugging him as hard as I safely could without knocking him over or squeezing his air out. He was sobbing, I was sobbing.

 

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry,” he gasped, his little body shaking in my arms.

 

“It’s okay, Caleb, it’s okay. We’re together now, we’re together now; praise God.”
 

We hugged and cried. People walking by just stared at us, having no clue about the drama that had been playing out right under their noses. I called Janey, a wonderful, relieving phone call!

 

“I FOUND HIM,” I yelled into her ear.

 

She started crying along with Caleb and I. What a site we were, father and son sobbing into an Android!

 

She was still going to come to the park but I told we were going to get the heck out there and come home, so we’d all meet back up there. Once home we all hugged and sobbed right there in the drive way under the sweltering August sun. Finally catching my breath I went inside and collapsed on the couch, completely spent.

 

I will never think of parenting the same again. It is a privilege. Now I have a deeper understanding of the Psalm:

 

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb is a reward.

̶ Psalm 127:3

 

I’m also reminded of Romans:

 

Weep with those who weep.

̶ Romans 12:15b

 

I tell this story to encourage and inspire parents to love your children. It isn’t pampering or coddling, it is loving them, blessing them, teaching them, cherishing them. For as we all know, some of our brothers and sisters have recently lost their children in the most unimaginable way. And part of my story is to help us begin to grasp even a wisp of the emotions and pain these parents are feeling in the depths of their loss. 

 

In light of their unimaginable loss, one thing we can do is to love our children all the more. Those that commit domestic violence—stop! Those who ignore or withdraw—get engaged. But whatever our story, we can all love our children, and thereby, perhaps we can love each other just a little more as well. We can lay aside our differences and embrace that we are all part of the family of humanity, we all hurt, but we can also all love. He so loved, so can we (John 3:16 and 1 John 4:19).

 

And this love begins at home. We can be salt and light and be like Jesus by loving more. If we learn nothing else, may we at least learn to love.

Afterword—What Actually Happened

Caleb wanted to play a trick on me so he clambered back up the dirt slide to circle around behind me. Problem was he got distracted by a bird or squirrel; by the time he finally got back to the foot of the dirt slide, I had already scampered up it looking for him. Talk about a vicious circle! His response was to again climb up the hill, but once at the top of the hill, he ran down a different path thinking I had gone down a different path looking for him. Thus began the most agonizing twenty minutes of each of our lives.

To have prevented this I could have slid down the hill with him or told him he couldn’t slide down the hill but instead follow me down the easier path. Given my inner-boy, I will probably choose the former should I be in the same situation again.