examination

Spirituality & Righteousness

The site through which we create and operate our websites (both the Bridge and my Love With A Capital L) asks a prompt every day. The idea is that we gain engagement by posting a lot, as much as possible, like every day, even several times a day. Whether that’s true, I can’t say. It seems to me that an avalanche of content would dilute each one. They probably know better than I do. I’ll probably keep writing once/week. Anyway, today’s prompt is: How important is spirituality to you? And I think that’s funny, because spirituality is the glue that holds any- and everything together, gives meaning to routine, significance to each moment, weight to all of our relationships. How important? The question doesn’t make sense because nothing exists without spirit/Spirit, it’s like asking, how important is breathing to your workouts? There isn’t a workout without breath, there isn’t an us without the spiritual element (whether we acknowledge it or not).

But that’s not why I’m writing today.

We began a new series on the Breastplate of Righteousness yesterday, and anytime we discuss righteousness, or holiness, our senses heighten and our defenses rise. We simply don’t like to be told what to do, no matter who is doing the telling. And the slightest hint that what we’ve chosen is not particularly healthy is a code red to our fight-or-flight response. Maybe we dig in and argue, maybe we pack our bags and move on.

It’s as if we desperately need the freedom to ruin our lives. And that’s what this is about, a plea from our Creator to not ruin our lives, relationships, to not take a wrecking ball to our world. When He asks, without even thinking, we bristle indignantly and prepare for destruction. I always had such a problem with all of the “shall not’s” of the Bible. Thou shall not lie??? What?!!? How can a Loving God command something like this, how can He take my freedom away? I neeeed to be able to deceive and spend my anxiety-ridden moments afraid of being discovered and reaping the consequences of the lies. Good times.

Our definition of freedom is an interesting one.

I often use sexuality as examples, but that’s because the Bible so often does. I could use alcohol (I hate alcohol the most, by far, and it’s not close), gambling, laziness, anything. It could be any tool we use that might “miss the mark.” Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial. The key is to bypass that initial automatic rebellious response, so that we can clearly consider our behavior without stirring up the rage of our pride. I wonder how we do that? Probably the same way we do anything – acknowledging that it’s there, without judgment or fear, and taking baby steps (with each other, with the Spirit) into an unknown future, with trust and hope.

I’m pretty sure we don’t have to viciously defend our self-destructive streak anymore. Maybe we could try on some new clothes, like a shiny new breastplate? And maybe we could do that the only way we’re designed, together?

The Pigs

There’s this story in the Bible: “And when He came to the other side into the country of the Gadarenes, two demon-possessed men confronted Him as they were coming out of the tombs. They were so extremely violent that no one could pass by that way. And they cried out, saying, “What business do You have with us, Son of God? Have You come here to torment us before the time?” Now there was a herd of many pigs feeding at a distance from them. And the demons begged Him, saying, “If You are going tocast us out, send us into the herd of pigs.” And He said to them, “Go!” And they came out and went into the pigs; and behold, the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the waters. And the herdsmen ran away, and went to the city and reported everything, including what had happened to the demon-possessed men. And behold, the whole city came out to meet Jesus; and when they saw Him, they pleaded with Him to leave their region. (Matt. 8)”

So, the first way I read this story was of the exorcism of the demons for these 2 men. Incidentally, in Luke’s version, there is just 1 man, who calls himself ‘Legion,’ because there are so many demons inside of him. And, we can get stuck when the stories don’t exactly line up. So about that… These aren’t textbooks. These are 2 men writing their accounts of events. Have you ever asked 2 of your friends who were at the same party how it was? After they answered, you probably wondered if they were actually at the same party, right? I think, sometimes, these men had different purposes other than precise historical accuracy. And I don’t think their differing accounts necessarily makes them unreliable, I think it makes them people who saw the party through different lenses, from different couches, different rooms. One man or two is a pretty minor detail, as far as I’m concerned, though I do wonder how their accounts could conflict about that.

Anyway. The exorcism is a fantastic miracle, and a great way to read it. But then, the phrase he (Legion)/they (the 2 men) use: “Son of God.” In the Scriptures, the only group never confused about who Jesus was are the demons. That’s an interesting note, isn’t it? The disciple named Thomas doubts, the demons don’t. The religious elite questions Jesus over and over about His identity, the demons don’t have to, they know who He is. I spent 20+ years in disbelief, demons don’t spend a second.

And then, now I always end up focused on that last sentence: “They pleaded with Him to leave their region.” And I wondered why. But the pigs represented food, as well as income. These pigs were their economy, careers, sustenance, comfort, identity, etc. These pigs illustrated a way of life. And they chose the pigs. When we are faced with the Son of God, and His life & teachings, they very often come into conflict with our accepted notions of ‘how life is’ or what we want/think we need, our identity, our priorities, our comfort, our rights…well, He very often comes into conflict with everything we accept as reality, too. And we can choose the pigs, too.

[A funny side note is that, when I opened my computer to write, the pigs of the title of this post were my Guinea Pigs, but then I thought about this story and these pigs, and intended to weave the two stories together, in the way I do. That won’t happen, I won’t get to my Guinea Pigs today.]

At the end of our series on forgiveness, yesterday, I said that in all of the ways we don’t choose peace or unity (like politics, religion, issues, rights, race, sex, style of dress, the way we wear our hair, and on and on), in the endless ways we choose division and chaos, we are really saying that the sacrifice of Jesus, His blood, His amazing love, simply aren’t enough. So, when we divide along party lines or condescend to another with a perspective other than our own, when we have to win, when we don’t forgive and hold on tightly to violence, resentment & bitterness, or exercise our rights at the expense of another, we choose to ignore Jesus, we choose to worship an idol, we choose another Gospel. We choose the pigs.

And that’s where I get stuck. Each step is stickier than the last. What are my pigs? Where do I choose other, inferior gospels? Where do I need to let my pigs run into the sea and drown? This could go forever, because there is never a shortage of cultural pigs to be examined.

I’m not ready for a new reading just yet. This one is deep enough.

[And next week, for sure, we’ll talk about my piggies and their breakfast carrots.]

James & The Note-Writers

The note in my Bible on James 2:14 (What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?) reads, “If our life remains unchanged, we don’t truly believe the truths we claim to believe.” That’s pretty harsh, and leaves little room for wiggling. But is it true?

I guess the question is, can we receive salvation and continue to sin? Doesn’t our salvation cover our sin? And if so, then (as several letters of Paul’s address) can’t I just keep on doing whatever I want? Will our salvation & new life convict us, causing us to stop doing those things that destroy us? What if we still do those things, or want to do those things? Does that mean “we don’t believe the truths we claim to believe?” And then, I guess we should ask if that sounds too much like a ‘works’ theology. This book of James is awfully deep water.

I do have an idea, and it hinges on John’s use of 2 kinds of sin. The first is like falling in a hole, where we mess up. It’s mostly a mistake, and we’re mostly sorry. The other is translated like, “keep on sinning,” and that means we live in a hole, and mess up, and decide to live in that mess. We might be sorry, in that one, but not too much.

So, Jesus loves us, and maybe we fall in love with Him, He rescues us, and we receive new life, but sometimes while we’re scrolling, we end up on certain sites that aren’t for us, they’re beneath our calling. We know He doesn’t want us on those sites. Maybe we stay, but we’re a guilty afterwards, and don’t want to do it again. That’s one.

Now, Jesus loves us, and maybe we fall in love with Him, He rescues us, and we receive new life, but we search those sites purposefully, then stay on them. We know He doesn’t want us on them, but we don’t really care. We like them, they’re fun, and on the spectrum of things I could be doing wrong, this one isn’t too bad, it’s not hurting anyone, etc. That’s the other.

I don’t think James is talking about the first. And maybe the change the people who write the notes in my Bible are looking for is the sentence, “we don’t want to do it again.” We know what He wants, know what His Word says, and want to do it. When we don’t, it hurts us. That hurt is a change in our lives that will eventually lead us to not end up on those sites at all.

The “unchanged” life means we might know, but doing it just isn’t that big of a deal.

But can we believe the truths we claim to believe and still operate under the second scenario? What does it mean to believe?

If I tell you I believe the Styx album Kilroy Was Here (which includes the hit single, “Mr. Roboto”) is the best album ever recorded, but I don’t own it and haven’t listened to it since 1984, will you believe that I think it’s the best album ever recorded? Maybe that’s what James and the Note-writers are pointing to. We think we think belief is intellectual, but we really don’t, in practice. I’m figuring we understand this just fine, we simply don’t like it. We don’t like not having a way around, a justification, an argument. We like to pretend.

We sometimes ask so many questions so that we don’t have to act on the answers. Probably, we all agree with the note-writers (and to know if we do, maybe replace spirituality, Jesus, the Gospel, with this Styx album, Dawn dish detergent, or our relationships.) If I truly love The Angel… well, I don’t think I’ve ever even asked if I could love her AND date other women. I’ve never wondered if her forgiveness and grace would cover over my infidelities. My love for her, my YES, changes my life, to where I’m not even considering the NO’s anymore.

If she’d ask me to forgive somebody, I’d probably try to do it until I actually did, because I love her and want to do the things that make her happy. I wouldn’t just ignore her, and pretend she didn’t mean it. Or look for a loophole. Or ask if I can do both, love her AND hate them.

Maybe I’m a little tired of the grace/works debate, or maybe I’m tired of asking the questions that keep me stuck. Maybe I want to eliminate the word games that keep us all stuck. OR maybe I’m just done pretending.

One Word

I have another website I write on. It isn’t always explicitly spiritual. Of course, it is spiritual; It’s me, and everything is spiritual, but I don’t always use specific verses and I sometimes just write about songs or movies or books. Anyway, the platform that hosts both sites (WordPress/Jetpack) gives a prompt every day, in case you don’t have anything to write about and want to write anyway. This is not usually a problem for me, but it does sometimes set me down an interesting path I didn’t know I wanted to walk. Today I was going to write about a familiar subject, the painful freedom of boundaries, how hard they are to keep, especially as we are all such soft-hearted loving souls. We don’t want to set them, and we second guess, sometimes being terribly rough on ourselves, and go back on them frequently. You see, I have a very good friend… (this is the conception of so many posts – my filthy pens and the beautiful people that are in them with me.)

The site prompt today is “What is one word to describe you?” Or we can modify it into “What one word would you want to describe you?” because I don’t want us even thinking of going down some self-loathing path the enemy has paved for us.

So, who are you, in one word?

It’s a coincidence (if you believe in that kind of thing – another very good friend calls them God-incidences) that I have been thinking about this, in a slightly different way. I want to be the kind of man who is taken for granted (I know that’s 3, but it’s my exercise, so I can use a phrase if I want). I want everyone to know I will always show up, give them my heart, my best, that I will love them, that they are safe and cared for. I want everyone to know I’ll make lots of mistakes, and say sorry & mean it afterwards, and then I’ll grow. I want my boys to forget to thank me when they have a game and I am in the stands, because I am just always in the stands. I want that to describe me. I want everyone to know I believe them, believe in them. That I don’t care who they think they were, but that I care a great deal about who they are, who they will become, Whose they are. I want everyone to take for granted that I am a Genesis 1 (and not Genesis 3) man.

But what started me down this path lately, is that when I am hurting and breaking, I begin to resent that I am taken for granted. It’s the big warning light on my dashboard. I consider closing the pen door, and opening it only for people who say “please,” and “thank you.” This is only for a second, maybe, or a day, but it magnifies who I am created to be, Whose story I am in, and quickly opens my eyes to who I want to become. Painful moments looking into a mirror are terrific teachers. There doesn’t have to be judgment, just conviction and a gentle invitation into this new creation I am. (That is a fairly new understanding.)

Who I want to be doesn’t change. The Gospel doesn’t change. I just turn a little, and I no longer like those sometimes smooth clean wide paths of the enemy. They are not for me, not even close. And I repent. (That is an example of a word I don’t use too much on the other site – I’d say “turn around,” but you know that’s what Jesus meant then, and what I mean now.)

So, what’s your word (or phrase)? Tell me what it is. I’ll show up, I’m safe, a terrific listener, and will be awfully careful with you. And you can take that for granted, please.

Is It Worthy?

Last week, I wrote about dancing, romancing, and “killing grooves.” Today, it is occurring to me that there are some fundamentalist religious communities that seemingly exist to “kill the groove,” who don’t want us dancing and certainly would not encourage romancing. I don’t know why.

We make tons of rules and laws for living proper Christian lives, a simple remake of the Torah, based on our modern societal and moral characteristics. Am I allowed to dance? How close? How fast? How long? And with whom? My instinct is, obviously, to say, “YES!!! Dance!!! Dance now, today, and forever, for as long as we can!” But maybe that’s also pretty simplistic. Maybe none of this is that easy. Or maybe it’s even simpler.

We really like complex, and that’s probably so we have plenty of excuses and exit ramps. And we also love the idea that we are the ones who understand the complex, like a 2024 Gnosticism. “I have the special knowledge required to be a “good” Christian.”

[Here’s something I just noticed: I have never used the word “Christian” before without much consideration. It’s a loaded word with baggage in many of our lives. And we’ve somehow shoehorned it into a completely different part of speech, making it an adjective. It’s not, it’s a noun. It is a follower of Jesus Christ. And, like many other words – like church, sin, etc – to leave it behind because it’s been misunderstood as problematic is foolish and in desperate need of reclamation. We follow Christ, we are Christians. Nice.]

Ephesians 4:1 says, “live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” It is, at the same time, simpler and heavier, clearer and more open to interpretation. The question we all are invited to ask, through this verse, is, “is this (action, thought, word, post, meal, practice) worthy of my call?” And maybe it is, and maybe it’s not. Maybe you can have a drink with dinner and I can’t, based on a host of different factors. Maybe I can dance in a hot sweaty small room with flashing strobe lights, and maybe that’s a horrible idea for you. Maybe you can have an Oreo and I can’t. And timing is important, too. Maybe it’s time for you to add and maybe it’s time for you to subtract, and maybe the thing to be added or subtracted is the same thing.

I can’t tell you if you can dance or how close or for how long. I can’t say if those things hurt your soul and heart and take you farther from Your Creator. Maybe they do. And maybe they do today.

Of course, some things are always beneath us. Addiction, abuse, objectification, oppression, deceit, infidelity, and on and on, are unworthy of our status as children of The King. There is no circumstance where they are not, and that’s why we feel so gross when we participate in them.

This maybe business, this “live a life worthy” of your call, is not easy. It’s not a handbook that tells us in black and white. That might be frustrating, but that’s purposeful, too.

We can never forget that the point of all of this is relationship, a life lived WITH Him. We can’t do it on our own, weren’t supposed to, so we hold His (and each other’s) hand and say, “is this worthy?” We rely on Him to guide us, to show us where we’ve compromised, to tell us again and again who we are.

Then, we just have to believe Him. And dance. Or not. But probably dance.

Those People

Sunday, we discussed a gigantic question that sprang forth from a quotation by David Guzik in his Bible commentary.

Guzik wrote, “If the Lordship of Jesus Christ is not greater than any difference you have with others – be it political, racial, economic, language, geography, or whatever, then you have not fully understood what it means to be under the Lordship of Jesus.” And the question was, “is it?” Or “Has it?” Or something like that. Have we decided that our wholly arbitrary love of the Dallas Cowboys and hate of the New York Giants is bigger and more important than a cross and empty tomb? Or where we live, or what we do, or what we think about the tax code? Are there places in our lives where we use the phrase that can so easily expose the innermost parts of our own perspective, “those people?”

Then, as so often happens, I was immediately faced with a situation that confronted me with the implications of living a life without walls, and free of “those people.” It’s a bit of an occupational hazard, but more than that, it’s a human phenomenon. When we decide to consider our own patience, for instance, we immediately receive opportunities to practice that patience, where we can easily see where we are deficient.

A boy on the basketball team is academically ineligible for the rest of the season and playoffs. He is very likable and a nice basketball player, and he is also lots of other things we might infer from his situation that takes him out of the game. And probably those inferences are the gate to a path we don’t belong. Maybe those inferences are right, too. But does their rightness matter?

Inferences invite us to look at their motivation from across the room, empathy asks us to imagine from inside their skin. Jesus asks neither. Jesus asks us to love them, without thought of motivation.

Now, as a side note, it can be important teaching & learning to explore the behavior of others. In addition, it’s vital to practice empathy (whether we are gifted with it or not) to make connections and allow us to better agape someone else. We can use another person as case study to look inside our own motivations. They become, in effect, mirrors. It’s not gossip (unless it is), it is curiosity and accelerates growth.

But back to this boy. When I heard, I was disappointed and frustrated at the impact upon the team. I inferred, and began the foundation on a wall that separated us. In my initial reaction, I was one thing and he was another, both of which are completely irrelevant, “under the Lordship of Jesus.” In this Kingdom, we are not different in the least, we are both children of the Living God, created in love, by love, and for love. He’s ineligible, I wasn’t (but could have been as a high school junior), but neither matters in the way Our God sees us, and the way we are called to see each other and bring peace.

Now, is it ineligibility, or is it the party designation on our licenses, how we maintain our yards, cars, and garages, or our habits and/or personality quirks? There is no us & them, only we.

To be honest with you, it’s uncomfortable and a real nuisance when this happens. It’s just eligibility on a high school basketball team, I’d like to leave it there, just once. Offhand thoughts and comments might not be windows into our souls. Not everything is a matter of divine significance. Except, of course, that it is. And that is kind of a pain in the neck.

The choice we’re asked to make, that plays out in a bazillion different ways, several bazillion times per day, is simple (yet never easy), “He is either the Lord of our lives, or we are.” Now what?

Coincidence

What stories are we telling ourselves? What meaning are we assigning to the circumstances of our lives? Where have we believed lies instead of Truth? What lies, specifically? Where do they come from?

The last few months have held some of the most important practical implications of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and faith, in general. Too often, we stow our faith away in a nice, tidy box in the corner and take it out at convenient times, comfortable places. Sunday morning, (maybe not every Sunday morning), we go to a special building, spend an hour or two, and come home to watch football. Maybe we remember what the sermon was about, but probably not, more likely a few words or phrases. Maybe we talk to someone else, maybe we sing along to the band, maybe someone asks us how we are and maybe we tell the truth.

That last paragraph is a generalization of the American church that may be true for each of us to a certain extent. The point is, sometimes we have different sides of us – a work Chad, sports Chad, friend Chad, spouse Chad, church Chad, on and on. And our spirituality is something where the gap between theology and practice can be very, very wide. What in the world could the rebellion of David’s son Absalom possibly have to do with us, here, now? And we can list facts of Jesus’ birth, life, and death, but do any of those facts really impact my cubicle or today’s math test or my next text message?

The short answers are A LOT, and YES, they absolutely do!

So, these last few months have had a bunch of planks that make a sweet bridge across that theology-practice chasm. Yesterday, we discussed the stories we tell and why? What makes us believe what we do – about God, about us, about everything and everyone else?

It’s always surprising (though I don’t know why it continues to surprise…it’s like being surprised when the sun sets, the rain stops, or our Dallas Cowboys win) how these passages we study are weaved into current or calendar events. We choose a book (that I will admit sometimes feel random to me) and the 4th chapter on unity/division happens to line up with an election cycle. Or right as we’re diving into helmets of salvation and digging through the trash of the damaging lies we’ve accepted, New Year’s Day is 3 weeks away and we’re reflecting on the year that was and that will be, where we’ve come from and where we’re going to. What could be more vital in engaging our imaginations to paving the new roads of our lives than this?!?

This isn’t coincidence. This is invitation.

Now we have a choice as to what box we’ll check: Yes or No? He comes in our direction in a million different ways, extending His hand to us – will we take it and jump? Can we finally erase the disconnect between all of our faces, combining them into the one He calls us to wear? Of course, it’s scary and hard, that’s why He gave us each other to do it all together.

3 Jobs For The Site Prompt

I write another blog, too, called lovewithacapitall.com. It’s a space where I talk about songs and movies and anything else that interests me. It’s sometimes not as specifically about Jesus as this one is, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t about Jesus at all. Everything is about Jesus.

This is the post I wrote last week. I wrote it here because it was sort of about my birthday, and if I had shared it then on the Bridge site, it was a little too much like fishing for Happy Birthday’s and expensive gifts. (I don’t personally know most of the people who read the love blog, so presents are unlikely.) I don’t want birthday presents anymore, I have already received all of the gifts I could ever want. But I do want to share this with you because we walk our paths together, and ostensibly, you care for me, so this is where & who I am, now at 48. Thank you for being here.

The site prompt is to list 3 jobs I’d pursue if money didn’t matter, which is a terrific door to enter, especially today. You see, it’s my birthday, and it’s interesting how things change over a lifetime.

When I was a younger man, birthdays were about celebrating me. (Now that I say it out loud, it seems like it should be a day to celebrate my mom – I was a 10lb baby – but maybe I was the best gift for her already, right? Ha. Anyway.) But now, pretty imperceptibly over the years, they have morphed into celebrating the people that are in my life. No longer celebrating me, but celebrating you for pouring into me in such wildly different and always beautiful ways. 

I try to be a pretty thoughtful person, authentic and self aware, which leads me into days and moments where I look backwards & forwards, but mostly, I look around. Where am I? Who am I, who have I become, and who am I becoming? A birthday, as my phone is busy with well wishes and funny gifs, is a good day for that sort of thing.

So, as for 3 jobs. 3. Lead singer in a rock band. I wish I could sing the songs I wish I could write. My sister and I are always grateful that we have been given the gift of feeling songs so deeply, we cry easily at chord changes and perfect lyrics. Given the choice, I would have written “I Can’t Help Myself,” by Gene or “Hey Jealousy,” by the Gin Blossoms, and been an awesome front man, doing high kicks like David Lee Roth and being cool, like Billy Idol.

2. Superhero. This kind of goes without saying, we’d all put superhero at #2. We’d rescue our love interests, catch bad guys, return purses, and just generally set things right. 

And at 1. Pastor of a local faith community, which, in a wonderful twist of fate, is the one I actually have. I used to say I have virtually no skills, certainly none with which I could ever make a living, but that turned out to be untrue. I’m not overflowing with cash or anything, but that never mattered too much to me. In every way that does mean anything, I am the wealthiest person I know. Falling in love with Jesus is the best thing that ever happened to me, for a million reasons. 

As I look at the 3, they’re very similar, aren’t they? I never connected that, until this very moment.

So. These 48 years that brought me here, with you, have been awesome – full of loss, pain, tears, heartbreak, laughter and unspeakable joy. I’m surrounded by the greatest people, doing the things I love to do; deadlifts, puzzles, watching dumb documentaries, listening, breathing, holding hands, kissing the Angel, loving God (and everybody else), and and and. That list could go on forever, I really love to do tons of things, but mostly I love to be here, now. So, how did I happen to get here? What did I do to deserve a life like this? Nothing. Nobody deserves a life like this. We just accept it, as the amazing grace that it is.

I am a very simple man, and I am overwhelmingly thankful. To paraphrase the best Dr. Seuss book, Horton Hatches The Egg: I am happy, 100 percent.

Teleological

“Don, all relationships are teleological.”

I asked him what the word teleological means.

“It means they’re going somewhere,” Al said. “All relationships are living and alive and moving and becoming something. My question to you,” Al said seriously, “is, where is the relationship you’ve started with this woman going?”

This is a passage from a book called Scary Close, by Donald Miller (who wrote Blue Like Jazz, which happens to be the very first spiritual book I ever read.) It’s about plans and visions. He later writes, “I would never walk into my office without a plan. As the leader of my company, my team depends on me to know where we are going and how important each of them are to the journey. I can’t believe I almost went into my marriage, which is infinitely more important than my business, without a plan.”

He’s writing about a romantic relationship, and his point is deeply convicting to me. It’s making me consider where my marriage is going, and if it’s actually where we think it is, and if it encompasses the values we both hold. Sometimes, we can start with a plan (loosely held, of course – God has a way of changing the plans written in pen) and over time, for whatever reason (busyness, distraction, laziness, success, career, taking the other for granted, and on and on), we lose or ignore our initial vision. Then we’re just moving mindlessly, hoping to end somewhere good.

But that’s not exactly what I want to talk about here, together in this space. The word teleological is used here to describe relationships, and that might be the only proper usage, but I haven’t really cared about proper usage before, so I’m not going to start now. Our own interior lives – physically, emotionally, intellectually, and I would suggest most importantly, spiritually – are teleological, too. We are going somewhere, and to pretend that we’re not, or that we can move in a certain direction without a plan, is itself a plan, but it’s a dangerous one that will lead nowhere.

We have 5 year strategic plans at work, but none for our greatest work of art; our lives.

It is confusing (and sort of maddening, if I’m honest) that we would be so resistant to change, if we choose to be intentional with our lives. We notice there’s food between our teeth, so we decide to floss (and then floss). That sounds reasonably obvious. But when we notice red lights on our dashboard or food between the metaphorical teeth of our soul, we completely ignore it, and we justify that, in ourselves and others, as being our fear of change.

We’re going somewhere. So, where is it? Are we leaning into a new future, holding on to the past, or just sitting down in the aisle like I used to do in the toy section of the Hills department store, hoping eventually to get what I want.

A plan doesn’t mean it’ll be easy or smooth, it simply means we get to choose our pain. Will the inevitable pain be meaningful, as we are on the road to becoming who we have been created to be? Or will it be random and chaotic, just turbulence on the dark road where we happen to find ourselves, with no purpose or significance?

But it does require examination, honesty, vulnerability, and courage; 4 characteristics that have been phased out by comfort, immediate gratification, and convenience. It’s really time to take them back, to take us back. We are Resurrection people, who desperately need to engage our imaginations, invite them back into our lives and dream again about where this could all go, if we would only show up.

Living Letters

You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts. (2 Corinthians 3:2-3)

Yesterday, I casually repeated the saying that ‘we are the only Bible some people will ever read,” and it elicited a stunned comment on the livestream. I see that I was wrong to toss it around like that, it is anything but casual. This phrase is heavy with significance and conviction. Sometimes, we can hear something enough that it becomes familiar, and in that familiarity, loses much (if not all) of it’s impact.

We’re about to talk about the love chapter (1 Cor 13), and it has been very much sanded down through thoughtless use. It has become nothing more than a pretty quote for a greeting card. Pretty, and innocuous. Those verses are lots of things, but innocuous isn’t one of them. They aren’t soft or inoffensive, they are seismic in their effect. It’s simply impossible to remain unchanged once we actually hear them, as they are. But that is for another time.

You’re the Bible people will read to see the Living God, to see His love and kindness, His grace, forgiveness, His work in a human life. Paul writes in the Bible’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians, that we are a letter from Christ, written by the Spirit. What does that mean?? What does that mean in the grocery store, the stadium bleachers, on the road?? What does it mean to our in-laws? For that matter, what does it mean for our spouse? Would those closest to us see our lives as Divine love letters? Or are we more letters of petty disagreements, cutting remarks, and rage?

It’s a shocking passage – The God of the Universe chooses to use us to communicate to a hurting world, to be His masterpiece, His letters. We know we are made in His image, we’ve read that since the beginning, but the Truth of that, too, has faded. If we knew we were made in His image, would we say the things we do to ourselves, would we be so mean in our own heads? If we knew our wives, husbands, children were made in His image, would we still use the same words, or the same sharp tones?

Usually, we can see this in others. Think of how you came to faith… It was a living letter (a parent, neighbor, teacher, etc), wasn’t it? Someone showed you grace, spoke a fresh word, shined light in darkness, and we caught a glimpse of the face of Jesus. It’s much more difficult to see ourselves as that someone. We can often see ourselves as “just” something or other, “just” a whatever, but mostly “just” me. There’s no “just” about you, about us. There’s no “just” a letter from Christ, never “just” written by the Spirit.

There’s responsibility in this, of course, but there is also honor, and dignity, and gift. And the question, as always, is: What will we do with this grace? What will we do today? This very moment?