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. 

Knowing and Freedom

“You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

̶ Jesus, John 8:32

 

Much has been written about the above phrase from Jesus.  There’s a lot of study and thought to be done regarding that phrase, including exploring the verse previous to it. In that verse Jesus speaks to abiding in His Word, which in itself has significant ramifications for our spiritual journey. But the other night in my Men’s group, we focused primarily on verse 32, digging out some nuggets of gold none of us had thought of before.

 

The discussion started with the simple question: Why is it some people seem to be freer than others? 

 

It couldn’t be because God is playing favorites, because He is no respecter of persons (see Romans 2:11 and 3:21-26). So somehow the difference in freedom must be on the individual level, either in our understanding of what freedom really is or in our ability to grasp the depth of freedom we have in Christ.

 

A key to answering this question resides in the word ‘know’. The Greek word gnwsesqe is a derivative of ginwskw which, according to Vine’s Complete Expository Dictionary, means “to be taking in knowledge, to come to know, recognize, understand, or to understand completely” (p. 346).  The actual Greek word in the text is what’s called a future middle indicative verb in the second person. All this technical stuff basically means that it is a command and can be translated “you will know.” It also connotes that this “knowing” is not instantaneous but is instead a process, or a continual growth in our journey of understanding.

 

Significance of a Word

Maybe I’m just a techno-weirdo-wonk, but I find this hugely illuminating and encouraging. Just what is knowledge? Does one just all of the sudden know something? You might know the final score of the game, but do you know the intricacies of what led up to that final score? No you don’t until you take time to dive into the detailed minutia of what resulted in that score. The more you understand the minutia the more you grasp the depth of that final score.

 

So it is with grasping the depth of the freedom we have in Jesus. Yes it is true that the final score of placing our faith in Jesus is an eternal destiny in Heaven rather than Hell, but there’s so much more to that final score. And I think that Jesus using the specific Greek work in verse 32 shows that He is telling us that knowing the deeper truths behind the final score will deepen our sense of freedom in Him. It will also deepen our identity in Him.

 

What is your picture of Jesus?

Often the image we have of Jesus is some radiant dude floating a foot above the ground zooming here and there healing people. So many paintings depict Jesus with some halo-thing encircling His head and people bowing to Him. In other words, we often see Jesus as nothing more than a dashboard icon with no feelings or connection with humanity.

 

But look at the picture from The Passion of the Christ. Yes, it is gruesome, but stop and think that Jesus Christ was God in the flesh and came to sacrifice His life for our salvation. This is a staggering realization and is difficult for our finite minds to grasp, but this is exactly what that one word—know—is encouraging us to do: Intentionally take in this knowledge, turn this truth over and over in our minds, meditate on it; and the more we ponder and meditate on this truth, the more we will grasp the significance of Christ’s sacrifice for us. And the deeper our grasp of this the more complete will be our freedom and our identity in Christ.   

 

Even for a moment, let’s try to wrap our minds around the truth that the God with no beginning and no end came to earth in the flesh starting as a baby and living life among us, His creation. He didn’t come in clouds of glory, smoke or explosions, He came as a vulnerable infant born in humble fashion. He lived among us, healed us, and was ridiculed and eventually executed by us.

 

Freedom Awaits

Now think of all the times in our own lives where we have hurt or otherwise disregarded this God and His sacrifice for us and yet He continues holding onto us (John 10:27-30). Perhaps with this exercise we’ll begin our journey into the knowing even more deeply the significance of Christ’s sacrifice for us. As we do this our sense of freedom will grow while we further grasp that our identity and destiny are secured in Christ and we will no longer be enslaved by the chains of culture or how the world tries to define us. In other words, we will live even more freely in Christ.

The Great Calm

 

A word of comfort to us, that, be the storm of trouble ever so loud, ever so strong, Jesus Christ can lay it with a word’s speaking.

─Matthew Henry

 

It’d been a busy day, but now, finally, they were leaving the multitude behind and sailing off in a small cadre of boats. They were heading to the other side of the Sea of Galilee to hopefully get a little quiet time with their Master and perhaps some sound sleep. But not even half way into their journey “a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat so it was already filling.” Jesus was, of all things, asleep on a pillow in the stern of the boat. 

 

This may be a familiar record to some; it’s from The Gospel of Mark, Chapter 4, verses 35-41 (it’s also found in Matthew and Luke). Apparently, even today, it is not unusual for the Sea of Galilee to all of the sudden have storms sweep over its surface due to its somewhat funky geography, it is 700 feet below sea level and is surrounded by mountains that reach as high as 4,000 feet above sea level.  When warm air from the lake rises to meet the cold air from the mountains it can sometimes produce sudden windstorms.  Here is just such an occasion. The disciples, in our vernacular, are freaking out, while Jesus, however, is unmoved and blissfully sleeping. 

 

Look Again

Being too familiar with this record risks becoming jaded to it or blind to the reality of the situation. I’ve had the opportunity to white-water raft several times in my life. We go with a seasoned guide and always wear our life jackets. Still, there are times when hitting the rapids just right blasts a white wall of water right into my face and body. At the same time I am, of course, being soaked by cold water, being jostled by the turbulent river and smacking into my fellow raft mates as we all struggle to stay in the raft. And sometimes I fall out; that can be especially frightening. 

 

Through it all, the experience is exhilarating but at some points, terror does overtake the exhilaration, especially as the wall of water interrupts my ability to breathe or blinds my sight. The disciples in the boat were experiencing the same terror, but theirs wasn’t the kind of terror that would quickly dwindle as the rapid fell to their rear; their terror was a continual onslaught of strong winds and waves beating into their boat and into their faces. If a wall of water smacked into one of their faces as he was trying to breathe, he could very well begin choking. If the water hit his eyes hard enough he could be rendered momentarily blind, just long enough to flip over the edge of the boat into the raging sea, most likely to a watery grave.  This was no summertime raft trip down the Deschutes or Rogue rivers. This was literally life and death.

 

No wonder they were so fearful; I would be as well, and most likely so would you.

 

Finally they awoke Jesus.

 

Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still!” And the winds ceased and there was a great calm (v. 39, emphasis added).

 

Mega

There’s more to the record, but you’ll just have to read it for yourself. As many times as I’ve read this record, I’ve never stopped to ponder the words: great calm.  The word “great” comes from the Greek where we get our word mega. Mega, obviously means “great”, but a thesaurus will provide such synonyms as “mammoth”, “jumbo”, or “super”. The word “calm” comes from an unfamiliar Greek word that can also mean “tranquility” or “stillness”.

 

Putting ourselves back into the shoes of the disciples, we will undoubtedly notice the deafening cacophony of howling winds and roiling seas; and quite possibly the screams of terrified men. We’ll also feel the biting spray blowing like tiny darts flung off the tops of curling waves while our clothes whip against our bodies in slapping stings, leaving angry welts.

 

Piercing through this din is the voice of Jesus; somehow I don’t think his voice was high and squeaky with fear, but was deep and resonating—authority emanating from every fiber of His being. Suddenly what was chaotic cacophony is instantly super tranquil. All that is heard is the heaving chests of breathless men.   

 

The juxtaposition astounds my imagination: chaos to calm, rage to tranquility, terror to peace, all in an instant, and all at the voice of Jesus.   

 

And as an exclamation point to this record, as soon as the boat finally makes land, they are immediately accosted by a violent man that is hopelessly tormented and untamable (see vv. 5:1-5). But when he encounters Jesus, his storms are equally calmed and he finishes the evening “sitting and clothed and in his right mind” (v. 15).

 

You see the similarities? The man went from raging insanity to being in his right mind; the storm went from chaos to calm. What is it that Jesus can do in the depths of our souls? It reminds of the lyrics from a song I can’t recall the name of that I think is from MercyMe; the line is something like this:

 

He calmed the raging sea/He can calm the rage in me.

 

Invitation is Yours

There’s no great formula for entering into this calm, or more aptly put, for having this calm enter into us. We simply invite Jesus into our heart as Savior and Lord. If you’ve already done that, then lift your burden, your rage, up to the Him in prayer. It need be no more difficult than crying out in sincerity, “Jesus, I’m scared because _________________, please help me!” Or “I’m so angry and hurt because__________________, please calm this anger!” He may touch you with an unmistakable warmth or with chills, but He will touch you and lead you “beside the still waters” (Psalm 23:2).

 

Again, if He calmed the power of nature’s fury and the power of demonic fury (the man suffering from insanity), then He can certainly calm the storms in our souls as well.

Jesus, Healing and Wholeness

They always stood in the distance; outcast and ostracized. Things were so bad that they only had each other for company and had to yell, “Unclean” anytime a “normal” person approached. Such was the life of a leper in the Israel of Jesus’ time. And yet, when Jesus actually came into their vicinity, their desperation urged them on toward Jesus:

 

Now it happened as He (Jesus) went to Jerusalem that He passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. Then as he entered a certain village, there met Him ten men who were lepers, who stood afar off. And they lifted up their voices and said, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

 

So when He saw them, He said to them, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And so it was that as they went, they were cleansed.

 

And one of them, when he saw that he was healed, returned, and with a loud voice glorified God, and fell down on his face at His feet, giving Him thanks. And he was a Samaritan.

 

So Jesus answered and said, “Were there not ten cleansed? But where are the nine? Were there not any found who returned to give glory to God except this foreigner?” And He said to him, “Arise, go your way. Your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19.)

 

These nine verses are packed with significant theological points about thankfulness, racism, salvation, humility, and other aspects as well. My focus for now, however, is the example of the engagement and inclusion of Jesus. He shows no favoritism or partiality (see Romans 2:11). These men are of differing nationalities but are all suffering from a highly contagious and lethal disease.   

 

Rather than avoid them, Jesus sought to bless them, to heal them, all of them. He didn’t quiz them on their politics or sexual practices or where they went to church. Instead, He heard their cries of anguish and responded with compassion.

 

This is the Jesus I read about and have fallen in love with. This is the Jesus I want my life to reflect. And while I know I have a long way to go to truly reflect this Jesus, He is patient with me and is patient with you as well.

 

So my question is who is your Jesus? Is He in a box of dogma, rules, and regulations; or is He truly alive as Scripture proclaims Him to be?

Pursuing God

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

─Jesus, Matthew 6:33

 

“Believing, then, is directing the heart’s attention to Jesus. It is lifting the mind to ‘behold the Lamb of God,’ and never ceasing that beholding for the rest of our lives.”

─A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

 

‘Seek’ in Matthew 6:33 is the Greek word, zeteo. It means to strive or desire; it also means to seek a thing or to crave.  The sense of the word and its usage in the verse is not a simple seeking for my car keys or wallet.  Not to get all technical, but ‘seek’ is a present-active-imperative which means it can be interpreted to be an ongoing command. In essence, Jesus is saying, “Continually seek after, crave, and desire the kingdom of God and His righteous.” So unlike our car keys, that when we find them our seeking ends, Jesus is saying that seeking God is a life-long pursuit.  After all, the Creator of the Universe has no beginning and no end, so we could never contain God like we can contain our car keys. As we begin to grasp one aspect of God, a myriad of others begin flooding our soul, thus, continuously giving us small doses of the eternal nature of the living God.

 Yet striving after the things of God is itself a key to deepening our relationship with Him. 

But is Matthew 6:33 a prosperity doctrine? Is He saying that as we pursue God we’ll get rich, get the big house, the big car, and the exotic vacations?  I don’t think so. While these things may not be inherently bad, Jesus is looking at the deeper things of life, He’s looking at the spiritual things.

 First of all, Jesus actually states that Solomon, the richest man ever up to that point, wasn’t even as arrayed as the lily of the field. That’s quite a statement. Solomon had everything there was to have, whether moral or immoral. A lily by contrast, is a simple, but beautiful flower. So Solomon vs. the lily could also be stated as mass materialism vs. simplicity.  Jesus is speaking to the need of mankind, not the greed of mankind. What’s more, I think He’s also speaking to spiritual riches, not just material riches. Material riches rot, fade, break, and wind up in landfills or wills. Spiritual riches lead to eternal rewards in Heaven. 

The big question, of course, is how do we pursue God and His Kindgom?  Is there a specific devotional or discipleship plan we should follow? While there are several of these types of plans available, I think the better place to start is to observe the Master Himself. Jesus lived a life of pursuing God, of doing God’s will at all times; therefore, He is the logical example to follow.

One of Jesus’ primary actions was prayer. The Gospels are filled with examples of Jesus seeking solitude early in the morning to pray to His Heavenly Father. In fact, often one of the first things a person thinks about when they think of Jesus is prayer.

Another key aspect of Jesus’ life was His knowledge and grasp of Scripture. He didn’t just know Scripture as a thing to memorize or a box to check on a daily to-do list, He ate, digested, and lived what the Holy Writ taught. He came to the Scripture with no personal agenda. Or as Chris Webb states, He read with “empty hands.”

“To read with empty hands means setting aside our agenda and developing an interior silence…Without this silence, it is much harder for us to hear the living voice of God speaking through that Word” (Chris Webb, The Fire of the Word: Meeting God on Holy Ground, Chapter 6).

So to truly establish a pursuit of God in our lives, we must have a genuine prayer life; not rote prayers, but honest, heart-felt prayers in an attitude of full attention on God and the things of the Spirit. Next, we must become comfortable and familiar with Scripture; intentionally laying aside our agenda and seeking God’s heart and voice through His written Word.

Applying these two keys in our lives will deepen our identity in Christ and strengthen our faith.

My next blog will look at even more keys for deepening our pursuit, and therefore, the presence of God in our lives. 

He is Risen—But Are We?

The breathless excitement of Easter, or what some call Resurrection Day, quickly fades as the busyness of life re-asserts its presence in our lives. Come Monday we again face traffic, overdue reports, childcare, taxes, and the general malaise of the mundane, day-to-day grind. As the open tomb lingers on the outskirts of our consciousness, it’s that first cup of coffee that dominates our first thoughts. 

Our minds become dulled by daily repetition and lulled by comfort.  The reality of the resurrection and its supreme significance is fogged over by Facebook, cable TV, and instant messaging.  Suddenly, we find ourselves lacking joy, emptied of purpose and distant from God. Little did we recognize the ever-so-stealthy schemes of the enemy, luring us into a trap of convenience and predictability.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.  God never intended it to be this way.  

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full,” said Jesus (John 10:10b). Jesus is teaching us that life in Him is meant to be filled with vitality, excitement, and purpose.  One of my study Bibles states that Jesus calls us “to a rich, full, joyful life, one overflowing with meaningful activities under the personal favor and blessing of God and in continual fellowship with his people” (ESV Study Bible).  This sounds anything but mundane and raises one looming question:

How do we live this way every day? What is the connector between us and God?

Jesus, after teaching about not worrying over everyday things, then said:

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33). The Greek word for ‘seek’ means to ‘strive after’ or ‘pursue’; thus, we are to strive after the kingdom of God before we strive for anything else.

But how?  I suggest two things: 1) prayer. Pray upon awakening in the morning, even if it’s just to get up to go to the bathroom—pray to your Heavenly Father. Then set a time to intentionally sit quietly and seek the Lord in prayer; for me first thing in the morning works best and it seems to model what Jesus did on a daily basis, but each Christ-follower must find which time of the day is best for their clarity of mind with minimal distractions.

2) Is reading the Scripture. I don’t mean to just read it to satisfy a devotional plan or to place a check mark in a to-do box, but really read the Scripture. Ask God to speak to you through the words you are reading, because they are living and active (see Hebrews 4:12).

Another key to learning to live the life that Jesus has called us to is obedience:

“Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the Father loves whoever has been born of him. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome” (1 John 5:1-3).

Our culture is rife with rebellion and rampant individualism, obedience is no longer a highly touted character trait; but God looks very favorably on obedience.  What’s more, obedience to God is not burdensome. That may shock you if you’ve been raised in works-oriented families or churches—where your worth is based on what you do rather than who you are—but really reading Scripture will reveal a loving Father, not a lording task master.

Take for instance the following:

“And one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, asked him, ‘Which commandment is the most important of all?’

“Jesus answered, ‘The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these: (Mark 12:28-31).

What is Jesus calling us to do? Love.  Now before you go thinking that Jesus was all mamby-pamby, this is the same man that came into the temple where merchants and purchasers were transacting business. There were a lot of people, perhaps hundreds. Even so, this multitude was defiling the temple of God and Jesus cleansed the temple by driving them all out of the temple and yelling after them, “It is written, my house will be called a house of prayer, but you make it a den of robbers” (Matthew 21:13). That is certainly no wimp in my book. So, in regard to love, it is clear that at times love has teeth in it and is therefore not always hand-holding, Kumbaya mushy stuff but is instead, a realistic tapestry of human emotion and compassion rolled into action.

So one vital principle to keeping the essence of Easter alive is understanding and living the truth that we are to seek God first and foremost above anything else. This principle entails prayer, Scripture reading, and obedience.

God in Adversity, Part 2

View from Room 7001

The Sunday before my Friday surgery I had the opportunity to be anointed with oil and prayed over by our pastors and other leaders and friends. Entering into this time I felt free to share the details of the surgery along with my fears. I had a single fusion over ten years ago but this upcoming double-fusion surgery was to be more than twice my previous surgery. This meant the pain I had experienced before would not only be present this time, but would be even more. Now I fully realize countless people, some of my friends and family included, have been through significantly tougher circumstances than mine, it’s just this, so far anyway, is my toughest medical challenge—so the fear of the pain, the length of recovery, and the loss of mobility were very consuming fears.  Not to mention the procedure itself—someone digging around inside my neck and spinal cord—was also quite disconcerting. 

After the anointing and prayer, I didn’t really feel any different. In fact, my body didn’t shudder and I wasn’t knocked off my feet (which would have been disastrous in my condition!).  But as the day wore on and I had quiet moments with nothing but my own thoughts and prayers, I sensed something profound deep in my soul—peace.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7, NKJV.)

I actually didn’t feel anxious or worried at all. In fact, I found myself looking forward to a further vision of being healed and feeling better than I’ve felt in probably a year. Yes, I knew there would be pain; yes, I knew there would be a relatively long recovery time; but I knew that by Summer I should be in full health and as soon as the surgery ended, I’d be out of danger of paralysis.  I also had a deepening sense of confidence in my surgeon, I knew God would be involved somehow and I also knew she was well-experienced and quite concerned about me. She would be bringing her “A-game” to the OR.

The day of the surgery Janey and I prayed before heading to the hospital; we both prayed that God would somehow be glorified through this and I specifically prayed for joy; yeah, crazy, huh? I prayed for joy. 

But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23.)

A typical definition of joy is “a feeling of great pleasure or happiness” (New Oxford American Dictionary, 2^nd Edition eBook, 2008).  This definition is more of a worldly definition and very circumstance oriented; being happy is usually because some exterior circumstance is happy to you.  But surgery, for me anyway, is not a happy thing.

However, the Greek word for ‘joy’ in this passage is χαρα (chara), and according to Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible (1990), it means ‘cheerfulness, calm, or gladness.’  Wow!  What a definition.  This is what I had in my soul, of all places and of all circumstances; I was cheerful, calm, and even glad. My blood pressure wasn’t elevated and my breathing was steady and normal.  No way would this be my natural state given the circumstances, it was a supernatural outpouring of the indwelling Holy Spirit.  And people gravitate to cheerfulness and God knows this. Was Jesus grumpy and morose?  Of course not.  In fact, He was a healer and he even prayed for the forgiveness of those nailing Him to the cross. That is certainly not the picture of a sourpuss Savior.   

Does this sound like a grumpy Jesus to you:

“I have come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. I am the good shepherd.” (Jesus, John 10:10b-11a.)  

Or how about this one:

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”  (Jesus, Matthew 11:28-30.)

There are several other examples of course, but the point is that along with my IV I was also receiving an infusion of Holy Spirit that spilled out in χαρα, joy.  Even after my surgery recovering in my room cheerfulness was just my norm.  When Ray, the czar of the bladder machine woke me up 3:30 AM, I was still cheerful. I was able to get know all the nursing staff, found out about their families, their lives, their dreams—it was awesome—and it wasn’t my natural man.

At one point, the cleaning lady popped into my room as I was playing worship music on my iPod and that got us talking about Jesus.  In fact, I was able to have spiritual conversations with at least half the staff.  Again, that’s just not my old-man nature, that was the Holy Spirit at work. God was showing me that yes, indeed; He shows up even while you’re lying in the hospital bed and having to use a walker to get to the bathroom! But His concern was beyond me, He also wanted to touch the hard-working nursing staff through His work in me. Whether they recognized it or not, God was blessing them for their commitment to caring for humanity created in His image. 

And when I would wake up in the wee hours because of the pain, I’d look out my 7^th floor window and see the lighted Capital Building.  That brought happy memories and reminded to just pray in the Spirit to again be awash in the warmth of His love for me.

Plus God kept me energized by all the visitors coming by.  Close to 30 people stopped in to say ‘hi’ and see how I was doing.  What’s more, I can’t describe it well, but I could sense that so many people were praying for me. More than once I was brought to tears of joy in that hospital bed because of God’s work in the situation and all the people showing love and concern for me.  Tears are welling up in my eyes right now as I write this.  God, the Author of the universe, cares that much about a single life. And He cares that much for you:

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.  He who believes in Him is not condemned.”  (Jesus, John 3:16-18a, emphasis mine.)

This is my testimony of this experience. God moved mightily to touch my life and many other lives as well. And He continues moving in the situation even now.  Yes, pain is a reality and recovery time is lengthy, but God transcends this with His washing of Holy Spirit infusion.  But this isn’t unique to me:

This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus. (1 Timothy 2:3-5, ESV.)

God is calling us to salvation in Jesus. And lest you wonder how to be saved, how to enter into this incredible relationship with our Heavenly Father, I share the answer of Paul and Silas to the cry of the Roman jailer:

“Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

And they said, “Believe in the name of the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.” (Acts 16:30-31.)

God awaits.

What Happened?

I remember last Saturday up until the time I lost consciousness.  We have yet to determine why I lost consciousness which means my life now has lots of tests in it and lots of wonder—it’s really weird to basically not remember a half a day. 

There I was at Lowe’s with my five-year-old son. We were shopping for screening material, a flag pole (to hang my Oregon Duck flag on) and fertilizer.  It was in the fertilizer isle where I collapsed.  I remember feeling woozy then I don’t remember anything until a vague recollection of riding in the back of an ambulance speeding down I-5 toward the ER.  Then I was in and out of consciousness the rest of day and night.

When I fainted, which is what I think it was (my doctor thinks I had some sort of seizure), I hit the concrete floor head first splitting my forehead open and biting through my upper lip; needless, to say, this caused quite a mess, plus I was convulsing.  My little boy saw the whole thing and immediately began yelling for someone to “help my Daddy, someone help my Daddy!”  I have no idea who helped me or what they did, all I know is someone thankfully called 9-1-1.

The times I was lucid in the ER I remember being surrounded by friends and family; I remember my dear bride holding my hand, Mike cleaning the blood off my face, fist-bumping Ben, saying ‘hi’ to Pastor Chad, seeing my Sister’s pained expression and getting poked by lots, I mean, lots, of needles.

I was and remain very grateful for their presence, deep inside I was terrified by what had happened to me. I’ve never had anything even remotely like this happen to me before nor has anyone in my family. To all of the sudden lose consciousness like that is frightening. I left the ER, very late that night, looking like a losing prize fighter:  black and blue, stitches, and stumbling. My eye and lip are healing and I get the stitches removed next Tuesday.  I’ve had blood tests, CAT scans, x-rays and an MRI. Next week I have an EEG scheduled.  I am also definitely feeling the effects of the concussion: life seems a little slower as I am not processing as fast as usual, my dreams are a very different variety than they used to be, and Janey is staying very close to my side as I haven’t been able to go back to work yet and she’s afraid to leave me alone for too long.

So what am I to learn through all this?  One thing is there are a lot of people who care about me, are offering to help me, and are praying for me.  I am not eloquent enough to express my gratefulness for these dear people, but I am so thankful that I have such caring friends and family. 

There’s one lesson right there, NEVER take your friends and family for granted.  Jesus taught about the great importance of relationships, and through this latest trial I’m really learning the truth of this. I guess I thought I understood it until I became totally helpless; there were times I could do nothing for myself and had to rely on others for everything (including my five-year-old).  And even now still I’m way more reliant on others, especially my dear bride, than I’ve ever been in all my adult life.

Another lesson, as trite as it may sound, is each moment of life is truly valuable. Oh sure, I like to think I think this, but on Saturday I lost many moments where I otherwise would have been conscious; these are moments I was present but don’t remember and can never get back.  In fact, Saturday was our date night; but rather than going out to a nice dinner, we were in the ER being reminded just how important we are to each other while I lay on that gurney helpless and terrified.   

I still get scared. I pray the tests show nothing. This would mean what happened was more a combination of low blood sugar coupled with a bunch of other environmental factors (breathing in noxious fumes, a lot of overhead work, pinched neck nerves, eating little). All of these things are treatable through lifestyle adjustment or relatively minor medical procedures (or hiring a yard service).  So I pray there are no tumors or anything like that.

In the meantime, though, I am thankful to be alive. I don’t think my life was ever truly in danger; still, memories died as I can’t recall much of that day yet I am blessed so many people, complete strangers I’ll never know and friends and family rallied around me so quickly that perhaps that’s the closest taste of Heaven I’ve ever had—genuine care and love showing up in the most dire time of need.

Thank you.     

God, Lord, and Father

I was praying during one of my lunchtime runs a few weeks ago.  I often state two key words in my prayers.  Those two words are “God” and “Lord”.  As I curved up the concrete path leading to the former train trestle turned running/walking bridge over the Willamette River a different word popped into my mind, the word “Father”.  The impressiveness of the thought caused me to pay closer attention because I sensed it was a quiet whisper from God in regard to my prayer.  In fact, the thought was phrased more as a question rather than as a statement.

“Why don’t you ever refer to Me as Father?” 

While this may sound like a simple question, the answer is really quite complex.  There are many reasons why I’ve resisted referring to God as Father.  The reasons hover in areas such as my relationship with my earthly father, lack of trust in the God of the universe, and tainted experiences from my cult days (hence my book From Cult to Christ).  Maybe someday I’ll write a more detailed blog on these reasons, but right now I want to address this particular prayer on this particular run. 

Jesus referred to God as Father many times (too many times to list here, but you’ll find a complete list on pages 347-8 in Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible).  When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, He started with the words, “Our Father” (see Matthew 6:9 and Luke 11:2).  When Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane, His prayers were so intense with psychological stress, that He sweat drops of blood (a condition known as hematidrosis, see p. 260 of The Case for Christ by Lee Strobel). But even in all this intensity, Jesus referred to God as Father (see Matthew 26:39, Mark 14:36, and Luke 22:42). 

So without waxing all-theological, what is the significance of this question I sensed in my prayer?  Biblically speaking, what is a father?  A father is someone who cares, someone who rescues, someone who’s a hero.  A father is compassionate and yet can appropriately discipline when necessary.  A father is there when you need him and even when you don’t.  A father loves and respects you.  A father also accepts you for who you are but won’t necessarily let you always stay the same, for a father is also a guide into maturity and adventure.  And, of course, a father has children. 

All of these attributes are true of God.  These are the attributes He was trying to get me to realize in my prayer.  Yes He is God, and yes He is Lord, but I can still come to this God of the universe as a Father, for He does love me and cares for me and my family.  He doesn’t sit idly by but is an active participant in my life; at least He is if I let Him. 

So now when I pray, I approach Him as my loving Father Who is extending His arms to embrace me in a big ol’ bear hug rather than approaching Him as a distant God on a distant throne with minimal care for my life.  He is God and Lord, but He is also Father, which means I can follow Jesus’ example and pray, “My Father,” and I can know that He hears me.      

Triumphal Entry: A Personal Reflection

As Jesus entered Jerusalem on a colt, His disciples celebrated with great rejoicing.  They even laid their own coats or cut down palm branches to line the path the colt was taking into town.  The air was electric as the people rejoiced and praised God “for all the mighty works they had seen” (Luke 19:37 ESV). And yet only a few short days later they were reviling Him and calling for His crucifixion. 

The fickleness of the human heart seems to sometimes verge on the insane, one day there is great celebration for a man’s life but a few short days later the same celebrants are now calling for his execution.  There is much psychological and theological fodder in just this one record, but I’m concerned for how my own heart exhibits the same fickleness. 

Today my take-away from this record is a stark reminder of how I had once celebrated the entry of Jesus into my heart and life; but now, many years later I have to confess that over time that joy has been tarnished, if not completely supplanted, by the cares and concerns of this life.  As the psalmist wrote, I also lament, “Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit” (Psalm 51:12 NKJV). 

I must continue reminding myself of the great works God has already wrought in my life. Even though bills increase while my pay decreases, God is still sovereign.  Even though my children cause worry I’ve never encountered before, God is the Father of all of us and will not leave nor forsake us.  While my finite perspective is indeed limited and often frustrated, God’s perspective is vaster than the human mind can begin to comprehend. 

So on this Palm Sunday 2011, my reflection and prayer is to have joy restored in my soul because that’s what I see as lacking in our culture and in my life.  We have more luxuries than at any other time in our history, yet life seems joyless and gray.  But the joy that comes from God will renew our vigor for living and will draw people to Jesus as the one antidote to the very prevalent fear and worry permeating our culture. 

May the triumphal entry of Jesus into our hearts and lives grow day by day. 

Personal Prayer

“Lord, may my joy be full,

may my peace be deep,

may my love be real,

and may I walk in the personal power of the indwelling Holy Spirit.”

I pray this every day, regardless of my circumstances.  My current trials seem trivial when compared to the many other tragedies in the world today; but still, my family and I are enduring a couple of challenging trials.  But even so, I still pray the above prayer. And there are pertinent Scriptural references for each item:

·         Joy:  1 John 1:4 and Galatians 5:22.

·         Peace:  Philippians 4:7 and Galatians 5:22

·         Love:  1 John 4:7 & 11 and Galatians 5:22

·         Indwelling Holy Spirit:  Ephesians 6:10.

Granted, there are several other pertinent references, but I want to give a brief list for now.

I think some may consider praying the same prayer daily, or even at various times throughout the day, to be nothing but rote recitation or vain babbling. That may be so for some folks but not for me because this particular prayer reminds me that God is always with me regardless of how I feel or what my circumstances are.  What’s more, it also reminds me that only by the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit will I actually realize and then exude genuine joy, peace, and love. Without the Holy Spirit working in my life, these items will be merely surface-level veneers to be ripped away when the storms of trials assail my soul.

But when I really seek the guidance of the Holy Spirit, He is always there to comfort me. Another good point to remember is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit is available to all who believe in their heart that God raised Jesus from the dead (see Romans 10:9 for more on how to be saved).

What prayers are meaningful to you?  Feel free to post them via the comments portion of this post, perhaps your prayer will be the one that touches someone else’s soul!

Dreams and Dreamers

I’m a dreamer.  As such, I face disappointments because the dreams never quite come true.  Maybe I’d do well to remember a quote from C.S. Lewis, “Once a dream has become a fact I suppose it loses something.  This isn’t affection:  we long and long for a thing and when it comes it turns out to be just a pleasant incident very much like others.”  This is a sober thought because it reminds me to question if my dreams are my god of if God is my dream.  By this I mean am I dreaming the vision God has for my life or am I merely indulging in distracting daydreams?  And what does it mean when the dreams don’t quite come true?

Perhaps Moses is a good example to draw from.  Whether he’s categorized as a dreamer or not, he still had powerful visions from God that drove his overall motives.  These motives fueled his thoughts and dreams of fulfilling God’s vision and therefore, I think, he was a dreamer. 

But an interesting thing in reading Exodus is I sense that things never quite turned out the way Moses was thinking they would.  Pharaoh didn’t just load the Hebrews up with a bunch of stuff and then let them go; he instead made things quite difficult for Moses and the Hebrews. He’d make promises then break them.  He’d repent then almost immediately change his mind.  And when he did let the Hebrews go, he again changed his mind and pursued after them.

The Israelite stint in the desert wasn’t exactly as Moses had pictured it either.  He and the Israelite nation wandered in a hostile wilderness for a very long time, eating stuff like manna and then an over-abundance of quail and also getting water from a rock.  On top of that and amid other difficulties, Moses didn’t even get to enter into the Promised Land, Joshua had that privilege.  Even so, Moses never gave up; he clung to his God-ordained dreams of Israelite freedom. 

The disciples also seemed to be dreamers, otherwise, why would they have remained committed all their lives to a vision that ended up in martyrdom?  They could see the positive impacts of genuine Christian faith.  They also saw and experienced the suffering that came with it, but the vision, the dream of success, overpowered their fear.  They could see beyond tomorrow and next week to a horizon that stretches for generations.

I can’t help but think that not only was their dreaming God-inspired, but their ability to have a hope that overcame the fear was Holy Spirit empowered as well.  “You are of God, little children, and have overcome them, because He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4).  

But like Moses, their dreams didn’t play out as I think they originally thought they would.  They were thinking that Jesus was going to overthrow the Roman government and establish an Israelite rule right there in Jerusalem.  Obviously, the revolution Jesus instigated was a revolution of the heart, not of the government. 

Maybe my dreams aren’t turning out exactly as I had planned either; in fact, they’re not in most every category.  But I still have a strong pull these dreams are purposed and are fuel for ongoing hope and action.  But the temptation is to give up on them and succumb to failure.  To counter this, I look to these biblical examples, wipe my tears away and pray; and then keep moving.  “Do what you can do, and pray for what you cannot do” (St. Augustine). 

So what’s the take-away here?  I believe having dreams is good, provided the dreams themselves don’t become our God.  As we continually and honestly share our dreams with God via prayer, and listen and apply His direction, then I say, “Dream on!”  And to quote C.S. Lewis again, “For broken dreams the cure is, dream again and deeper.”