grace

Current Favorite

I’m going to share my lovewithacapitall post, again. There was a prompt on the hosting website and, as I began to fill this screen, I realized what I was actually writing about. The post, instead of being about the movies and songs we like now, superficial and light (as was surely intended by the prompt), quickly morphed into Sunday’s message on salvation, grace, and the cultural attraction to conditionality.

We are MFPs, extravagantly loved, and accepted, adopted into God’s family without a trace of the word “current.” And we are invited to also eliminate the currency of our love and commitment, become hi-fi brothers and sisters, and change the world, one extension of forgiveness & grace at a time, together.

Here it is:

Yesterday’s site prompt was, Who are your current most favorite people? It’s an strange question, feeling clunky and slightly unsettling. Most Favorite People should surely be capitalized, as if a title or award that is bestowed on the deserving. However, the inclusion of the word “current” implies that this title can also be rescinded. What is earned can be taken away.

Current MFPs are Chris Evans and Bong Joon-ho, star and director of the dystopian nightmare (yet still hopeful) Snowpiercer movie. Dallas Cowboys quarterback Dak Prescott, who is expecting a baby with his girlfriend Sarah Jane Ramos, is, too. Why do I know who his girlfriend is? Or especially that they are pregnant? Is this really important for us to know? I’m not certain that all lines between public and private should be erased, but that’s a little strange for me to say as I sit in my living room chair writing a blog where I share all of the personal, sometimes intimate, details of my life with you. But I get to choose what is shared. Maybe Dak Prescott or Ms. Ramos issued a press release, but very often the breaking information/news is clearly not for me. The social contract of fame, whether I like it or not, has a very high cost.

What is unsettling to me about this question is the conditionality of it all. If Snowpiercer was terrible, would Joon-ho make this list? I wasted an hour of a Netflix movie, 6 Underground, before I had to turn it off with extreme judgment, and that director isn’t an MFP. Dak has been awesome lately, but the next time he throws 4 interceptions, or loses another playoff game, will he, his girlfriend, and his baby still be Most Favorites?

Nev Schulman, Max Joseph, and Kamie Crawford – hosts of Catfish – are perpetual MFPs. That sounds right. If they are truly our Favorites, they should remain favorites, right? Not all episodes of Catfish are great. In fact, most new episodes aren’t.

Morrissey is the best example of this contrast. He often says regrettable, problematic things, not every song is an A+ anymore, some solo albums are admittedly average, but he will stay my #1 MFP forever.

I’m so far considering celebrities or famous artists I’ve never met, but the temptation to carry this idea of currency is insidious, infiltrating our actual relationships and lives. We commit to our spouses, children and friends with the same level of faithfulness as our quarterbacks, and directors. If we don’t feel it right now, we move on, they were a current love, but that’s over and we’re down the road onto the next “current.”

Fidelity means “the quality or state of being faithful or loyal,” and maybe the term hi-fi shouldn’t apply only to our stereos. Maybe we should be hi-fi. Currency is fine for singers and sports teams, but not families and communities. I wonder how everything would change overnight if the impulse to disconnect, leave and find a new current based on this moment alone, were left behind. If our MFPs were never again current, and just remained the favorites they are now. Maybe we could just give our love, based not on performance, covering over the metaphorical interceptions and 6 Undergrounds. Maybe we could begin to choose hi-fi over why-fi, and just see what we could build.

Letter to the Ephesians

For the last several weeks, we’ve focused on a specific kind of love. A love that doesn’t care if we want to, and acts anyway. We continue to talk about the importance of loving God and each other. Any time we study the Bible, the danger is that the emphasis is placed on us; what we think, say, and do. It seeps into this conversation easily, so we constantly have to be reminded of who we actually are.

The entire 1st 3 chapters of Ephesians (1/2 of the letter) are devoted to Jesus Christ and God’s “secret plan” to bring “all things” together. There is no mention of anything for us to do. The closest Paul comes is in 2:10, “…so that we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.”

There are prayers (1:15-23, 3:14-21), really really beautiful prayers, asking, hoping, that we see and understand this grace, kindness, and peace that have been shown, given to us. There is explanation and context to the world around us, and how it has been transformed. Every wall has come down. We have been reconciled.

It is only in 4:1, “I beg you to lead a life worthy of your calling…for you have been called by God,” that we get any indication that our lives will change now, in this new reality.

The order is vital, it has to be this way. Otherwise, we would start to believe that our actions & behavior are the things we use to get God to love us. We already have an idolatry problem. For us to continue in the delusion that we earn anything (ESPECIALLY our own salvation – “Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done” 2:9) only solidifies our ridiculous conviction to build higher and higher on this sand.

So Paul attacks that heresy for 3 chapters without a mention of response, without a mention of behavior. With very little mention of us at all, really, other than being the vessel God pours His love into, and the recipients of His grace, lavishly bestowed.

Our verbs in the 1st 3 chapters are “praise,” “receive,” “trust,” “come,” but the one used most often is “are,” as in “we are ____.” We are loved, forgiven, chosen. Next is “understand,” as in “may we understand” what has been done on our behalf.

The other verbs, and there are many, tell what He has done. The actions are by Him, He does, and we receive. We simply receive.

In chapter 4, and for the rest of the letter, Paul moves into what we can do – “be humble and gentle, patient with each other,” etc. Into what to do and not do, as children of God, worthy of our call. If we’re not clear on chapters 1-3, then 4-6 won’t make sense. It’ll be confusing and easily distorted. We’ll start to think the story is about us, and what we do.

It’s not.

This is a story about love and grace. Our response is just that, a response. We have been rescued, and we are now free to act from a place of profound thanksgiving. We simply can’t begin in chapter 4. The movie doesn’t make sense if we come in an hour late, and neither do our lives.

Yes, it’s a big deal that we love, always, in all ways. But our acts of love are the result of our salvation and transformation, we love in response to the overwhelming divine grace, never ever the other way around. So who we actually are is His. We are loved beyond reason or limit, completely and unconditionally. And that is very Good News.

Last Times

So I had this pet rabbit (I can’t even tell you how depressing it was to change the word “have” to “had”) for over 9 years. Her name was HoneyBunny. The Angel named her, and I loved it because Tim Roth’s character in Pulp Fiction called his special lady (Amanda Plummer) Honey Bunny, and I can always hear him say, “I love you, Honey Bunny,” in my head. Bunnies live 5-7 years, it says on cards at pet stores. They live much fewer in the wild, but in houses, there are far fewer predators. Ours live forever, in rabbit years.

Smoothie lived to be over 11. We asked the vet if he looked good for 11, and he answered, incredulously, “I don’t know.” He had never seen one that old, which made him in GREAT shape.

I work from home, so I was the primary caregiver for HoneyBunny. Every day for over 9 years, I let her out of her cage, feed & water her, change her litter box, and love her. Thursday was the last day I did any of those things. I let her out and she went under the ottoman, as was her recent practice. I gave her lettuce and treats on a plate under there. Then, around 4, she had an ‘episode’ that I can’t accurately describe. I held her tightly while my boys called local-ish veterinarians. We finally found one to see her by the time the Angel came home, and went there immediately.

She fell asleep in my hands, with the Angel stroking her ears and back. Of course it was horrible, but way too many pass alone, I’m grateful she had 4 hands on her with care and love. She deserved at least that much.

At home, I dug a hole to place her in and watered it with my tears.

Now, why I tell you all of this is because of Thursday morning, when I let her out and gave her the last treat I’d ever give. Sometimes we know when the last times are…

Friday morning Samuel went to the Annville-Cleona high school as a student for the last time. Last night he and his friends said goodbye to a young man who came as a foreign exchange student and was leaving as a close friend.

And others we don’t. How often do I reference Genesis 28:16, “Surely the Lord was in this place and I was unaware?” It’s a serious danger to live these beautiful lives of ours asleep, walking through the days & moments in a daze, oblivious to the fact that the ground on which we’re walking and the people we walk alongside, is all holy. I’d like to think I spoke to her with kindness and intention many many many many more times than I was absent or in a hurry or treating her like she was a nuisance, under my feet or chewing cords, boxes, and furniture. I’d like to hope I was as good to her as she was to me.

The message is always the same – God has so graciously given these blessings to us, we need to stay alert, keep showing up expecting wonder and beauty, keep our eyes open to/for this extraordinary grace.

Yes, she was just a rabbit, but if only you knew her, you’d know there was nothing “just” about her. And now the cage she slept in is empty and I miss her. This is the deal – to love something or someone means, at some point, it’ll hurt, it’ll break our heart into a bazillion pieces. Those pieces are a wonderful gift. She’s gone, but I had her for a long time, forever it rabbit years. My heart is broken but it grew 9 sizes while she was here. I’m really thankful.

I loved that HoneyBunny, and I love her still.

The Slovenian Flute Maker

Uncategorized, , , , , Leave a comment

One of the books I’m reading is called Heroes and Jerks, written by Ed Daly. This massive doorstop of a book breaks down human history into segments and then, in each segment, lists the 10 Best and 10 Worst people of the time. Now, there might be a bunch I wouldn’t ordinarily like about such lists, but it’s educational and hilarious, so what I wouldn’t ordinarily like doesn’t matter in this instance.

I tell you about this book because I want to tell you about a Slovenian flute maker and me and times like these, in particular.

First, the Slovenian flute maker. He’s #5 in the best of the Early Ancient History category (spanning two million B.C.-501 B.C.). And he’s the #9 worst. In 43,000 B.C., he hollowed out a cave bear’s femur and fashioned the first musical instrument, so if you’ve ever loved a song, danced, or cry when Gisy sings on Sunday morning, you have this guy to thank. AND if you’ve ever heard a Britney Spears song (or that Extreme song, “More Than Words”) and hated it, you also have this guy to thank.

I’ll be 45 years old in almost 2 weeks and I’m only just beginning to embrace the fact that the best thing about me is also the worst thing about me. It’s the thing that makes you (and my wife and my kids and anybody else) love me and it is the very thing that drives you crazy and want to never see me again. Just for knowing, it drives me crazy, too. I used to want nothing more than to change it, to leave that part of me well behind. I don’t anymore.

2020 is hard. Yesterday my phone rang and on the other end was a friend I haven’t spoken to in quite some time. She was in distress over the tragic news in our town (and her job and the local schools and COVID and everything else that is making us all feel like the world is upside down and tearing at the seams). I am in distress over the same things, as well, so we mostly just talked about how hard it is to get out of bed some days. How it can feel like it’s all for nothing. And somehow in the middle of ALL of the emotions we were feeling, there were sprinkles of laughter and hope and genuine care.

Then there’s this boy who came into the weight room where I work yesterday. Usually, the early teen-aged boys are overcome by insecurity and inadequacy and are absolutely insufferable (!!!!!), but this boy came in quietly and asked me what to do. He is apparently often in trouble. But he is also the boy who brought a bag of pretzels to the school office to share with my wife last year.

I don’t really feel that much like writing today. But times like these are discouraging and depressing. But just like the Slovenian flute maker (and everything else), they are not simply 1 thing. They are full of tears, but they are full of beautiful old friends, too.

Last night I had a rehearsal for a wedding that I’ll officiate Saturday and as I looked at these kids, I knew what was coming for them, for their marriage: the fights, the fear, the illnesses, the funerals, the all night conversations, the shouting, the questions, the anger, the pain, suffering, heart aches. I also know what else is coming: the joy, the celebration, the wins, the healing, the reconciliation, the passion, the dinners, the cozy movies on the couch, the births, the answers, the kisses, hugs, the hands to hold. It’s all wrapped up in a swirly mixture of a full love and life. It hurts and it is THE GREATEST. It’s always more than 1 thing, (everything is always more than 1 thing), if we only can have the imagination and faith and courage to just keep going.

Order

Uncategorized, , , , Leave a comment

“May we show our thankfulness through kindness and appreciate our blessings through generosity.” – Cyn Morgan in her excellent book Misericorde

Why wouldn’t I? This was the question in the last post (called Ham) about this response of ours. Of course we don’t have to, but why wouldn’t we? If you love these posts just as they are, no matter what I write about or how much time, effort and care I expend (like my mom does), would I stop expending time, effort and care? I hope not. I hope I would work harder to show my thankfulness to you (and my mom).

This makes complete sense, right? But when it comes to “spirituality,” I suddenly begin to wrinkle my nose and contort myself into all sorts of positions, feigning confusion and/or dreaming airtight arguments detailing why not.

The last time I wrote about this, we explored the imaginary conflict between the letter written by James and the concept of grace, but which in reality is no conflict at all. If my desire isn’t to display my gratitude, to say thanks, am I really that grateful? Probably not. The thing is that our modern perspective of shifting truths has created a society of (wink, wink) tolerance, and on the one hand that is sort of good, but the other hand has suffered mightily. The unintended consequence of our neglect of Truth (which is really what the your truth, my truth fallacy is) is a neglect of Jesus, a neglect of the Gospel.

The order of the Bible (and when I say the Bible, I mean the individual books & letters as well as the overarching narrative of the collected library) is:

1. Our Condition. 2. What God Has Done. 3. Response.

So, if #1 (the problem) is ignored or minimized, than #2 (the solution) is ignored or minimized. If I’m not in trouble, why do I need rescue? If I’m not falling, what good is being caught? They’re just words on the page that we read on Sunday mornings that have virtually no importance in our actual daily lives. It becomes theology, an intellectual exercise (hence the arguments and pretense), instead of practice.

And no one is thankful for theology, in itself, and it’s thankfulness that drives #3. This is why we ask, “Do I have to?” It’s a meaningless checklist, and not an authentic response to a gift. The gift just isn’t that big of a deal.

The Bible is ordered the way it is on purpose. If we lose the order, we lose the magnitude of the gift. The characters in Misericorde were rescued in a very obvious, tangible manner. Their lives were spared while the rest were not. The characters of the Bible were rescued in a very obvious, tangible manner, too. Their lives were spared while others were not. It’s interesting, we can easily forget that we are characters in the Scriptures. We are rescued. The lives that are spared are ours.

Unless we truly understand 1, we will never understand the overwhelming grace of 2, or the Gospel, or Jesus. (And He is the absolute BEST part!!!)

Next time, we’ll talk about the prosperity gospel that is in vogue and how it is the antithesis of this Divine order.

Ham

Uncategorized, , , One comment

I have a really good friend who is the author of, as I write this, 5 novels I just looove. Honestly, I feel like a pretty big deal, too, that I know her and we are friends. She wrote a trilogy and is now 2 books into a quadrilogy called The Mercy Series. In the first book, Misericorde, through the words of a character, she detailed an extraordinary ethos for life: “May we show our thankfulness through kindness and appreciate our blessings through generosity.”

I immediately stopped reading and wrote it down in the notebook I always carry with me, and I’ll tell you why. 

Following Jesus at some point leads you to a wrestling with the idea of “faith +.” Faith + something, anything that I can do to prove my worth, to earn this gift of unbelievable love. We might not explicitly acknowledge this, but it comes out in much of what we do (and how we do it). 

Nothing is free, right?

The Grace of God IS, we are taught, so we hold on to that, but then James writes (in chapter 2) “In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. (v. 17)…faith without deeds is useless? (v. 20b)…You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone. (v. 24)…As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead. (v. 26)” Now what? Is it my faith or my deeds? And this wrestling leaves us at the same point: Do I have to?

The short answer is “No, I don’t.” The longer answer is “…but why wouldn’t I want to?”

The Angel married me, for some reason she loves me that much, so I guess I don’t ‘have to’ behave the way I did when we were dating, don’t have to prove myself, don’t have to wash the dishes and take the trash out and buy her Snickers ice cream bars and slippers, but why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I want to express my love for her in all sorts of ways? Would I ask if I had to?

I think James’ question to me would be, “YES, she loves you NO MATTER WHAT, but if you love her, how is it possible that that love wouldn’t come out of you??” 

We love each other and the things we do are a response to that love. (That word, “response,” seems to have much more to unpack and may become the basis for a million part series here, but we’re talking about my friend’s book right now and I said I’d tell you why I wrote it down.) I love her so I’m making ham for dinner tonight and I absolutely hate ham but I make it because she likes it. That’s my response. My friend (whose name is Cyn Morgan and you can find her books on Amazon) writes about characters who are asking these same questions. That’s why her books are so great. They are loved and have been given so extravagantly, right then, there, as they are. Now what? Their answer is kindness and generosity. I wrote it down because, whether it’s in a novel or in space or in Cleona, it’s a great answer and an even better lifestyle.