gratitude

To Pause

Today is Good Friday. When I was young, most stores were closed. Good Friday was a holiday. (At least, that’s what I remember.) Sundays were, too. Nothing happened, really. We’d eat meals together, watch a game on tv together, or go outside together.

[I just wrote “Nothing happened, really,” and then I proceeded to describe the most important things in our lives. Nothing happened? Anyway.]

These days when business (and much of everything else) paused forced us to pause, as well. We could breathe, rest, be renewed.

I used to deliver medical equipment, and then I did that and what I’m doing now (being the pastor of a faith community), then I left that job to focus solely on the Bridge. I found, at the delivery job, that I had time on and time off of work. It was a difficult transition, because now there was no “time on.” I worked from home, when I did, answered phone calls when they came, met with people when they could. There was no “time on,” which meant there was no “time off,” which meant all time was equally appropriate for work.

Sundays were our “time off,” and now, there is no “time off.” No time to unplug and go outside, no time to read books or play. There’s also no time to think.

Today is Good Friday. With the exception of Resurrection Sunday (and perhaps Christmas), there’s not a more significant day in the life of a human being, each created in the image of this loving, gracious God. This is the day of His selfless sacrifice, the exchange of His life for ours. One perfect, divine life given for all the lives. What does that mean? Have we ever stopped to truly think about the weight of today?

Tomorrow is the Saturday In Between. The day after the horrific drama of the crucifixion. It’s like the Sundays when I was a kid, nothing is going on. With nothing to do but think and reflect, can you imagine the overwhelming hopelessness? Everything they thought was true, turned out not to be true, at all. The One they thought would fix everything was broken, murdered in the most public of executions. He was their Teacher, Mentor, their Friend. Now what???? What could they do now? Where could they go? Sadness isn’t a strong enough word to describe their despair. Their probably isn’t a strong enough word to describe their despair.

…But Sunday is coming… The day when everything changes.

I’m only writing to ask, to encourage, us to pause. We don’t get to do that in our world where there’s no “time off,” only the oppressive march of time. The beautiful rhythm of Genesis has been replaced with the breakneck speed of modern progress and productivity.

To reflect on today, on the tremendous, unthinkable sacrifice of Jesus Christ is to celebrate our lives. Before today, the story was a story of separation & death. Now, it’s one of reconciliation and LIFE, real life. Each breath, kiss, taste, flower, orange, tree, breeze, photo, song, slice of pizza, laugh, smile – they’re all proofs of life, the life He gives.

The Life He gave, today.

So. Pause. Feel the hurt of Jesus, crucified. And feel the exhilaration of our redeemed lives. Practice gratitude, because that’s all there is to do, this Easter season. And then do it all again, every season, because that’s all there is to do, then, too.

Characters

The site is wondering, if I could be a character from a book or movie, which one would I be?

Well, I have always wanted to be Superman or Luke Skywalker. And, with the terrific portrayal in the MCU, I can add Captain America. Those are who I wanted to be, and as I look at them now, they are characters with very little conflict. They’re squeaky clean and always good.

That’s why Star Wars fans had such a problem with The Last Jedi, the avoidance & moral ambiguity of Luke Skywalker tainted his reputation. The film is my favorite of the bunch, mostly because, as I get older, I recognize that everyone has those gray areas. Captain America keeps most personal things a secret and is a horrible friend. Superman… well, if you would call sleeping with Lois before marriage a moral flaw, that might be the only one, but he is Superman.

When I read High Fidelity, by Nick Hornby, I could see myself in Rob, the record store owner with relationship issues. I still can, in lots of ways. I will sometimes get my priorities mixed up, misplacing pop music and culture much too high in the hierarchy of values. I can receive too much of my worth in the way others perceive me, too. But he’s also funny and cool and loves (people, art, and things) easily. I feel like, in real life, we’d really like him.

I can happily also see me Kung Fu Panda’s Po. I’m fairly paunchy, hate cardio, own action figures, love violence and noodles. I have studied my own dragon scroll and have found there is no secret ingredient in me, either. I am just me, and have found that absolutely, wonderfully freeing. But I also make a mess and eat too many cookies. 

In the Bible, there’s a disciple named Peter. He speaks quickly, without thinking, and is often wrong. He’s zealous and excitable, he probably talks too loudly and too much. There’s a moment when Christ is transfigured, and Peter is one of three to actually see it, and instead of being present to this sacred glimpse of the Divine, he wants to build altars to His God and this space. He wants to do something, fix something, explain something. He wants to prove himself through what he can/will do, through his devotion. He fails in big spots, chooses the easy, comfortable way, and likes things to be his way. He also loves Jesus with every ounce of himself. He wants everybody else to love Him, too. He is the rock upon which Jesus can trust to build His Church. After the resurrection, when he sees Jesus, he jumps right out of his boat and swims to the shore. I’d like to be a rock Christ can trust…but otherwise, I can certainly relate to this person in a Book.

I guess that’s the difference between a boy and a man. I can see me in Rob, Po, and Peter – the good parts and the bad. I can hold the different sides of being human, I appreciate their flaws, and love them deeply anyway. Maybe this mirrors our own journey. We want to have superpowers and win all the time, so we can’t look too hard at the cracks in our self-created images. But now, as a grown up, I can see my bad, aged skin from a life lived, and I don’t hate that skin anymore. This skin is mine and tells the story of me, then, and me, now. It tells the story of God’s creation & grace: in spite of the mess I’ve made (and continue to make) of His work, He loves me desperately anyway. He sees tremendous value and beauty in that skin, in me, so maybe I should, too. 

I wanted to be superheroes and Jedi knights when I was young(er), I don’t want to be them anymore. I don’t really want to be anyone other than who I am, only who He’s created me to be, anymore.

A Delusion

We talk an awful lot about a 2 Hands Theology, right? That just means the human experience is complex and complicated. Almost nothing is just 1 emotion. To look at one example: When you have a baby, it’s amazing, exciting, hopeful…AND… it’s terrifying, overwhelming. It’s also the end of that stage of your marriage, where you could pick up and go anywhere, anytime, without days and hours of planning and a packed diaper bag. It’s the best. And this monumental life change is also the loss of who you both were before. It’s a great change, but all change involves some sort of loss, and every loss must be mourned. To ignore either hand is to eliminate half of your life, it’s pretense, and it’s pretty unhealthy.

Now. Every day holds this same invitation into an authentic, engaged life. Your friends move, people pass away, relationships end, you’re promoted, your book comes out, the doctor calls, and on and on. It’s a BOTH/AND life that we lead, and we are wonderfully present.

But sometimes, it’s a lot, isn’t it? Sometimes, it feels like the hand that holds the pain, sadness, and overwhelm parts is heavier than the joy & celebration. Sometimes, it seems the scales tip, our shoulders slump, it feels like an anchor is attached to our hearts, dragging them underwater.

Most people run from this darkness, pretending that the clouds are not just lined with silver, but made of gold. We pretend that the sadness is a lack of faith, a dismissal of God’s goodness & sovereignty. It isn’t, it’s honest, overflowing with a faith in a Creator that would be big, awesome, and loving enough to take it all with us. In His mercy and grace, He weeps with us.

That’s what we often do, run from the suffering. And other times, we fall into the delusion that the dark side is winning, that the hand that holds the pain IS actually heavier. This isn’t true, either.

In much the same way that 1 negative comment can eclipse 15 positives, the pain is loud, intense, and obsessive. But that doesn’t mean the other hand has disappeared. And that isn’t natural or healthy. It’s a 2 Hands Theology, very very rarely only 1.

So, when it’s raining and feels like it’ll never be sunny and dry again, how do we reclaim our full perspective, that is faithful, beautiful, and authentic? The answer is the same as when we skip through the streets in a monsoon, pretending we’re not wet: we open our eyes, look up, look around. And in the opposite case, when it might be tempting to fall, we look to the other hand. Because simply because it seems that the scales have tipped and the anchor is permanently fastened to our soft, lovely hearts doesn’t make it true. The hand that holds the wonder of each other, the blooming flowers and blinding sunlight, the abundance of gifts and blessings, is still there, hasn’t gone anywhere. We just need to notice, and say thanks. Gratitude is the antidote to despair, it always was, and it always will be.

God doesn’t take us out of the rain, He holds us in it. But He also doesn’t say that it’ll never stop raining. The resurrection tells us that there’s a day coming when it won’t rain, when there will only be 1 hand (and it’ll be His.) But until then, He’s there with us, loving us, not for our myopia or our faking, but for everything we truly are.

Both Trash Collectors And Hoses

After service, a brilliant woman who I am thrilled to call my friend said to me, “we’re garbage collectors, picking up the trash on the road to Jesus, then becoming the hoses that wash it down.” How great is that??!!

Of course, this makes no sense, if you hadn’t been there. In the last few months, I’ve made 2 specific analogies. The first is that we are conduits for the love of God. He provides the love, filling us, transforming us, then we become hoses that His love flows through, getting all over everyone. The second, last week’s illustration, was of a path to a door. God has built the house, set the table for the feast, built the door, then paved the road to that door. We don’t do any of that, He does. But, as we’re studying in Paul’s letter to Titus, it is our job to partner with The Spirit to clear away the obstructions that we so often set on this path to Him. We set up this spiritual obstacle course, in so many ways, then we are tasked to remove them. I like my analogies, but the picture she painted, tying the 2, was so good, I badly wished I had made it.

I’m telling you this story for a few reasons. 1. Our small community has so many fantastic talents, it never ceases to surprise. This is a testament to the abundance of God’s blessing. The leap is not a huge one to assume that we all are overflowing with gifts, just sitting, waiting to be unlocked and taken out of the package and played with. That’s what I have always guessed – it’s nice to be affirmed in every interaction & conversation. 2. We are a nation, a world, a galaxy, a Church, of priests. I happen to have a position called ‘pastor,’ but I am absolutely not the only minister. All of us together, using our individual, unique interests, passions, gifts, skills to reach others IS the walking, talking, living Great Commission. I don’t, can’t reach all people – as you know, I am not for everyone. Maybe this woman isn’t, either. Or you. But all of us together… It’s like the outside of a Venn diagram, where a number of circles overlap in the middle, signaling a shaded area of similarity. All of our separate circles, millions of them overlapping in many places (sex, color, hometown, taste in music or pizza, etc) – the only big overlap, as The Church, is Jesus – create an enormous mosaic/flower-type shape that covers the entire human race.

I use movies and songs and dead lifts and baseball to connect us. This woman connects these concepts easily, using her wild creativity to make it easy and memorable. You should be me for a Sunday, and hear the incredible insight I do as people are leaving, sharing their thoughts with me. My sister gave me the analogy of going out past where the ocean water turns from light to dark, where you can’t see the bottom – can you even imagine how many to whom that will make the perfect sense that starts them on a journey that leads to that feast? A very good friend works with numbers, another with flowers, others use guitars, voices, dance, organization, fabric, my mom makes the greatest lemon meringue pie this world has ever tasted.

Sure, all of these celebrations make me appreciate and love you. I pray you know how great you are. It’s a great pleasure/privilege to notice them everywhere, in everyone. But it makes me appreciate and love this God of ours even more. I see His attention, care, and love in each of us (I can now even say, “including me”), my mouth hanging wide open in wonder and awe. I am grateful, 100%.

We simply need to open our boxes and play. To paraphrase everybody’s favorite singer, Morrissey: Trash Collectors and Hoses of the world, unite and take over!

The Security of Inadequacy

This is the 2nd post this week, and that’s fairly unusual, but so is the Bible passage I read this week. These posts are like the concept of tithing for me. Give 10%, but you can give more. It isn’t a ceiling, it’s more like a floor. I post once a week. I only have one entry on my to-do list that says “Bridge Post,” but that doesn’t mean the internet police will break down my door if I open this app for the 2nd time. (Actually, it’s quite the opposite, the internet – and especially this app – wants me to post EVERY DAY!!! We’ll call this a compromise.)

In 1 Chronicles 13, David tries to transport the Ark of the Covenant, in the way he figured was appropriate (but was not according to the specific laws of the Torah.) The Ark teeters, Uzzah reaches out to steady it, and is immediately struck dead. David is angry, and very afraid. Now what? In chapter 15, they transport it again, according to law, without incident. He even says, “we failed to ask God how to move it in the proper way.” No excuses, no blame. This was a natural consequence of transgression. There was punishment, but not from an unhinged, wrathful God, this punishment was meted out by the sin itself.

Sometimes, I eat lots of cake and, as I’m doubled over with a vicious belly ache, wonder why God is so mad at me.

When my boys were small, I’d say, “If you hit your brother again with that bat, you’ll lose it and have to have a timeout.” Inevitably, they’d lose the bat and have timeout and ask why I was so mad at them, why I wanted to punish them. It wasn’t really my decision, it was theirs, wasn’t it?

David is called a “man after God’s heart,” and that is always such an interesting conversation, because it’s not like he was perfect. The Scriptures are very clear about his shortcomings and poor decisions, and remain clear about his standing as a faithful follower/friend/person of God. We often think God is holding a clipboard in His arms, noting our missteps, looking for reasons to be mad at us, when the Bible seems to show a very different God; One who has destroyed the clipboard and is, instead, easily forgiving, and filling His arms with us.

What made David so extraordinary is obvious in this Ark situation. His heart is contrite in his error, he’s humble, repentant, teachable. He offered no justification. Yes, he was angry, but he never pretends to be more than human. I wonder who/Who he was angry with, God or himself? Maybe even Uzzah. Anger’s best characteristic isn’t it’s logic. David was angry when he was angry, afraid when he was afraid, then did the next right thing. How do we move this Ark? Then, he did that.

The Angel and I used to have arguments, BIG arguments, and I’d forget the beautiful picture we were painting. I’d only be able to think of the piece in front of me. I couldn’t apologize, I had to win. I’d show her. You would not have used words like “humble, repentant, contrite, teachable.” You also wouldn’t have used careful, patient, or particularly loving. You wouldn’t have called me a man of God. You wouldn’t have called me a man, at all.

You WOULD have used stubborn, prideful, myopic, small.

So, we still have arguments, but we now aren’t so caught up in proving our right-ness, that we can’t write a chapter 15, “I’m sorry. I am/was wrong. We/I failed.” What a cool, free-ing place to be. Where we no longer have to build our résumé’s to defend our worth. Where we can simply rest in who we are, put it down, and take the next step, do the next right thing.

I heard a sermon once where the big phrase was, “you don’t have to live like that anymore.” We don’t have to live with the insecurity of inadequacy. The Bible (in this story of David, and countless others) testifies to the peaceful security of inadequacy. There is a bigger masterpiece at work. We don’t have to be right, or do it our way. We just have to move the Ark.

What About The Prayer of Jabez??

1 Chronicles 4:9-10 9 Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” 10 Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.

I have always found this Jabez passage (2 verses in the middle of chapters and chapters of genealogies in the 1st book of the Chronicles) to be a little selfish and short-sighted. To me, it sounded like, “give me more money and stuff.” God agreed and granted his request, which only added to my confusion. 

This passage is one of the birthplaces of the prosperity gospel (along with the incomplete reading of Jeremiah 29:11 that is so popular.) The prosperity gospel is NOT The Gospel. It is, instead, the polar opposite of The Gospel.

So, how & why is this prayer of Jabez and its Divine affirmation here at all?

That was my question. It sounds different to me now.

Jabez is “honorable” (the adjective also translates as distinguished, significant, valuable)… and named after the worst part of his life: his painful birth. He had been given a negative brand, and lived an upright life, worthy of his God. (As much as a human being can be worthy – maybe a better word is ‘pleasing’ to his God.)

Honorable, or distinguished, implies a good/great reputation. People may have looked at him with respect. Maybe they wanted to model their lives after him. A pillar of society, in many ways. 

This is all before his prayer. His is a life of service, obedience & worship, ostensibly without regard for reward. His comfortability was not the end he was seeking with his life, his life lived for God was the end, in itself. He seems to have followed God, and then (perhaps incidentally) offered his prayer. 

He asked for 3 things: 1. To be blessed. 2. To have his territory (or borders) enlarged (or his lands extended). And 3. To be kept free from harm and pain (or trouble). 

He asked for blessing. This is a righteous blessing from a humble heart. We can, and should, all ask for blessing, for ourselves and others.

The next 2 are my problems, or have been, beginning with “free from trouble or pain.” First, we have all prayed that, right? It’s a very human prayer: keep me safe and sound, why is this so hard?, open doors, grease the wheels of what I want and how I want to live. Only the fact that he received a YES makes this noteworthy, and that is not his fault at all. It is no reflection of him. It IS a comment on the grace of God to say YES and give it to him.

The only special thing about Jabez is that he believed in God. He believed on His love, goodness & authority so much, that he would ask his Father for a gift only He could give. Jabez was not the answer to his own prayer, he was not powerful enough, he was not the center of this world. The Creator, his Sustainer, his Father, was. 

Now, the last and most concerning. 

“Enlarge my borders/territory, extend my lands.”  On the surface, this can be seen as a child wanting “more, more, more.” So, it has to be asked, more of what? What is the land for? Or, what does the land represent?

To make this a bit more personal, what/where are our borders?

Land, or borders, refer to our sphere of influence, places where we live, where we make, set, and carry out the rules.

[It is possible that he simply desired more land for the increase in net worth, but based on what we already know, that doesn’t seem likely. More plausible is the desire for wider lands to devote to God, more people living lives of purpose and obedience, like his. How do you define wealth?)

Is this a different society, a new context, essentially a rephrase of apostles Paul & Peter’s exhortations that we are an example to the world around us? We increase our circles so that a bigger section of people can, and will, live honorable, distinguished, significant lives under the authority, grace, and love of our Creator. This, I think, is the opportunity where God says YES to Jabez. 

If this were simply an ask for $1,000,000 and an easy, comfortable life, maybe the answer would have been different, and it wouldn’t be written in the holy Scriptures.

[Of course, maybe it would have. Ultimately, God’s ways are unfathomable to us. The only right answer here, at the end of the study, is to say, “Your will, not mine.” We do not discard the items or passages we don’t like or understand. We submit to His will and keep knocking.]

This is important, vital, for us because, as The Church, we have been so conditioned to cower from any hint of pride. Jabez’s prayer has that hint, and our prayers for extended borders certainly do. BUT maybe this passage tells us that His followers, His Bride, are exactly the kind of people who should be asking for, and receiving, bigger, wider lands. We might not get the answer Jabez got, but maybe he didn’t, either, the first thousand times he asked. 

If we build our lives as walking, talking, “honorable” temples of gratitude to Him, under His authority and will, then we are free-er and free-er to ask away! [Again, just a reminder about helmets… Our behavior doesn’t ‘make’ God love us, or accept us, He already does. We can ask, seek, and knock. The point is, as we offer our lives to Him, begin to live for Him, with the guidance of the Spirit living in us, our desires begin to reflect His. That’s what makes me guess that Jabez didn’t just want a bazillion dollars to “build new barns” to store all of it. We don’t know why he wanted extended territories, but we can be fairly certain that he didn’t intend them as geographical altars to himself.]

This passage is an invitation to honestly present all of our petitions to him (no matter how small, personal, and seemingly insignificant they are) and allow Him to do what He will…with them…and with us.    

Messy?

So, what I’m thinking, after several weeks of relational discord and the nagging sense that “things are not as they should be,” is that I might not agree any longer. Maybe things are exactly as they should be.

First, of course they aren’t. We have been made for eternity, made by a loving God for shalom in paradise, walking with Him, filled by Him. We are living in times bathed in tears, our own and everybody else’s. There’s war, hate, and on and on and on, we are covered by a general blanket of anxiety, rage, suffering, and unworthiness. The idea of sin simply means “missing the mark,” which implies that there is a mark, this is not it, and as long as we are missing it, everything cannot be “exactly as they should be.”

However. We have a trinitarian God, 3 in 1 – this God expresses Himself/Themselves in perfect community, a divine dance, selflessly giving and receiving, Each pointing to the Other; Father, Son, And Spirit. One of the most interesting implications of this wildly unfathomable Trinity is that, being made in His image, we are made to be in relationship. This is clear in the Garden, before the fall, when the man alone was called, “not good.” Eden is not Eden without relationship, without others.

But, then, given that fact, what do we do with the fact that other people are awful? We think that we could really follow Jesus, really give ourselves to Him, truly offer all of our mind, body, and soul to Him, without the mess of our neighbors. (We all know loving our enemies is almost impossible, it’s hard enough to love those who live in the same house!!!) It would be easier for you to maintain pure thoughts without my dumb jokes and bad decisions, wouldn’t it? (Imagine how hard it is to live with me.) If politics is just the science of the way we organize ourselves in a society, the absence of people would mean we have no need to organize a society… wouldn’t it be much more reasonable to be peaceful, patient, and disciplined without politicians? And we could all breathe like monks if there weren’t any other cars/drivers on the roads, right?

When the refrain of a social life is “messy,” it rings like a lament. Messy, messy, messy. Like milk spilled on the floor, out of order, disruption. But the more I see & experience of God, the more I see that a life without brothers & sisters or enemies or politics or getting cut off on the road, or even my dumb jokes, isn’t following Jesus at all. It’s just another way we “miss the mark.” [A full life is marked by periods of intentional solitude, rest, and communion with God – but a life built on solitude is absolutely contrary to this amazing creation. It’s not good to be alone.]

Withdrawal isn’t an option. We are made to be a blessing to a world in pain, even as we are a part of that world in pain. We are made to be agents of healing, even as we are sometimes the ones inflicting the wounds. This is all part of the human experience. Jesus asks us to be peacemakers, this implies that we will be living in a world that is not at peace. And sometimes, we are the ones who upset the shalom. All of this is true.

And if being human is inherently messy… If all of our relationships, even the best of them, are messy, at times… Maybe it’s ice to start looking at the mess not as something to be eliminated, but to see it as what it is, life. A full, beautiful, present life IS messy. It has always been. Maybe it was always supposed to be. Maybe it’s the primary vehicle for our sanctification. Or to put it another way, how do we learn patience if not for those who test our patience? How do we learn the loveliness of difference if not for the different?

Yes, we are awful. And yes, we are the greatest. One day, this creation will be totally redeemed, no more tears, hate, or pain, but until then, instead of trying in futility to rid our yards of grass and dirt, maybe we could just lay down and roll around?

The Honesty of Authentic Presence

10ish years ago, my sister and I had a fight on the Ocean City boardwalk. I don’t have any idea what we were arguing about now, but it made everyone uncomfortable and the rest of the family all wished they were somewhere else. Or probably that we were somewhere else.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but last night, my youngest son had his last high school basketball game. I’m not going to go into details about that game, (or any other game, for that matter), or my feelings for/about him. But this is the sort of event that can make a man like me very sensitive, mushy even, for quite a while.

Studies show that human beings generally recognize 3 emotions: happy, sad, and mad. Of course, this isn’t anywhere close to enough, and it’s not that we don’t feel different emotions, we just lack the vocabulary to accurately communicate those emotions. Last night was bittersweet. I was proud, disappointed, joyful, overwhelmed. I was happy, sad, and mad, at different times. Sometimes at the same time. It would have taken 1,000 hands to hold everything I was feeling.

Several times during Sunday morning’s sermon, I realized & acknowledged (in my head) my tone and my turbulent spirit. As I taught about the second chapter of Titus, I realized how much of these moments were colored by this game, this program, church dynamics, politics, relationships, how I slept, what I ate, even what shoes I was wearing. Everything comes to the party, and it should, because everything matters.

Our services begin with a silent prayer, where we come as we are, bringing what we carry, to the feet of Jesus. It is embarrassingly misguided to pretend that we can come any other way, as if we are blank slates unaffected by the world around us. The prodigal son’s words to His Father land differently after you have children. The story of Israel is different from opposite sides of empire.

And I think that’s an absolutely intentional requirement of a life of faith. One of the most important observations I learned in seminary that totally changed my life is the honesty in every word of the Scriptures. Whether it’s in Lamentations, Habakkuk, Psalms, Titus, or any other book, God doesn’t want our sacrifices if they aren’t real. He has no use for fake plastic hypocrisy. He doesn’t want our pretense and our loud, grandiose assemblies if He doesn’t have our hearts.

He has mine. And so do you. Sunday morning, you get my awe, my reverence for the God Who rescued me, my study, prayer, interpretation, faith, AND my broken, confused, euphoric, sometimes wildly contradictory spirit. My careful conclusions and my dumb jokes. My cold, broken hallelujah.

Last night, I was disgusted at the basketball program while I wept for the people in it. I never want the season to end, and I’m so happy it’s over. I think there are lots of things that Jesus needs to transform in me, and I know He loves me in a way none of us can fathom, as I am. I get so many things wrong, and I am forgiven. I don’t want to stay this me, but I really like this me. Last summer, I told the baseball players I coached that I was finished, and I was relieved & thrilled to be done, and so sorry I thought I might crumble.

Being fully present, authentically ourselves, in true relationship with Our Creator and each other means all of this.

I chose a picture for this post. It’s last week’s senior night. I’m happy and sad, proud, hopeful, and he might be holding me up because I love him so much I might die. What it is, really, is a picture of gratitude. God gave us each other. And to stand next to for all of it, this God gave me the Angel.

I told you about Ocean City because, while everybody else wished to be somewhere else, I didn’t (and I bet my sister didn’t, either.) To be as close as we are requires us to bring everything we are to this amazing party. I’d love to go back to that night, when my boys were 5 and 7, and it was summer and the ground wasn’t covered with ice, but I don’t need to, I was there, then, fighting with my sister, loving every moment of this beautiful life I have been given. And if I could/would go back, I wouldn’t have been there last night, and I wouldn’t have missed that for the world.

Super Soldier Serum

The site prompt is, “What would you do if you won the lottery?” And that makes me think of a line from the Marvel TV show The Falcon & The Winter Soldier. There’s a guy who is supposed to be the new Captain America, and he’s debating about whether or not he should take a super soldier serum (which sounds silly to write here, but it is a superhero show), and his buddy, Lamar, tells him, “power just makes you more of what you are.” That applies to money, too, obviously. I don’t necessarily ascribe to the theory that “absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

The full quote (from Lord Acton, the 13th Marquess of Groppoli – full disclosure, I don’t have any idea what a Marquess is or what/where/who Groppoli is, but I love that I could use it in real life) is, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority; still more when you superadd the tendency of the certainty of corruption by authority.” Power does tend to corrupt, but I can’t go with ‘absolute/always’ of the rest. But again, speaking of words, I’m using “superadd” immediately and often.

And this makes me think of Sunday morning, and our discussion on character and judgment. We could talk forever about these 2 topics, right?

Character is the x-factor that disproves the 13th Marquess of Groppoli, and reinforces Lamar’s comments. If a man has the kind of character traits Paul is listing to Titus, maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should have power, who would use it in service, to help, to build, to defend, to give, to love. Maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should take a super soldier serum.

But what if we don’t have that kind of character? You know I wanted to add, “…kind of character now, today?” That’s why judgment is so linked in my mind to character. Christ makes us new, so this very moment is the perfect opportunity to begin to superadd this kind of integrity.

Judgment is making decisions about someone’s essence. For instance, to use our terms from the message, when that boy/girl that behaves violently, full of bitterness, with anger, rage and hatred, he/she IS, in the deepest parts of themselves, that kind of person, and worse, will always be that kind of person. We lock them in a box they can never escape. When Jesus says, “Do not judge,” I think He means to open that box. Whether they climb out of the box built from their own actions, or not, is up to them and Jesus Christ, certainly not me. I can hope & pray they do. And maybe that box involves the consequences of those actions or our boundaries. But we no longer hold the key to another’s cell.

And then Jesus brilliantly turns our spotlight into a mirror. “Take the plank out of your own eye.” So, we no longer have the key to another’s cell, but we do have the key to our own. We can leave. We can start anew, and write a beautiful new story. We can allow and encourage others to do the same. We can become the people who can take the super soldier serum or win the lottery and use it to bless everyone, everywhere.

1,000 Points

Maybe the least surprising thing to you is that I’m writing today, about this. Last night, my youngest son, named after the prophet Elisha, scored his 1,000th point as a basketball player. It was on a great move, where he was fouled, and the bucket counted, on what’s called an “and-1.” The game stopped, while we all stood and cheered this significant achievement. The Angel, my oldest son, and I were able to go on the court to hug him and take pictures. I told you I’d be the one with the watery eyes, and I was. I think we all were.

Then, less than 5 minutes later, he blocked a shot and, as he came down, rolled his ankle and missed the rest of the game and probably the rest of the week (at least). I may have mentioned (a time or 2 million) that an authentic, fully present life is held with 2 hands, in this case, great celebration and pain, minutes apart.

We all looooved last night, and we went to bed, aching with disappointment. 2 hands.

This young man, my son, and I prayed in the training room. I asked him what hurt more, his heart or his ankle, to which he replied, “same.” His concern was over their hopes at playoffs. Then, later, after the game (a loss), he composed himself and graciously received the accolades and congratulations from those who showed up to love him, thanking every one. In those moments, I could so clearly see my boy becoming the man he will be. Sunday night, I told him that we would be talking so much about his athletic performance, which is considerable, but our love for him has absolutely nothing to do with points or wins. And when I told him last night how proud of him I am, that also had nothing to do with a ball or a hoop.

But as far as a ball and hoop go, these points and this celebration, he earned them. Almost no one sees the hours and hours, the buckets of sweat, the study, the focus he invests. 1,000 points don’t just happen, they are the product of much, much more than 4 – 8 minute quarters. He’s gifted, of course, but he has worked to explore the depth of those gifts, to see what might be possible. An evening in January looks/feels far off on empty courts in June, but they do come.

I wrote a post yesterday about the intense hypocrisy of the adults from Friday’s game (who may have been from Lancaster Mennonite;). Before the game last night, the head coach of our opponents last night found me in the hallway and congratulated me, and asked many questions about my boy. His job was to beat our team, but he was one of those who cared for the boys on both teams. It’s no surprise his son (who I had the privilege/pleasure to know and coach) is so classy and kind. The juxtaposition between the 2 people could not have been more stark, and made Friday’s coach and program look that much worse. I relayed our conversation to my son, and he said how that coach (whose name may have been Chris George, and whose team may have been Northern Lebanon) also spoke with him, and expressed his genuine sadness with the injury. It was a wonderful illustration of the best part of sports.

Now. The real reason I opened my computer to write today was not on the court. The stands were packed full of people who love this beautiful young man. Friends drove hours to be there, made plans, gave up their own valuable time to sit in a gym on a frigid Monday night. You know, we fall in love with Jesus, we intentionally create these lives together, trying to step into our call every day, each moment, choosing our values, deciding who we’ll be and what we believe, and time passes, and we rarely get the opportunity to stand back and see the divine blessings that God has bestowed. Then, you happen to look up from your seat in the stands, and see the people of these lives filing in to love your son, and it is then that you can truly see the love and grace of God.

My post yesterday was, a little, about the dangers of tying Jesus to the actions of His followers. My post today is about the upside of that relationship. As we posed for pictures on the court, teary eyed and full, I looked up into the stands and I saw the faces of our lives, the answers to our prayers, our hope manifest. God may not always give a paved road, full of gobs of money, comfort and ease, but He gives us each other, and that is so much more than enough, so much better.

I am overwhelmed. I am grateful. He has a thousand and three points and I have a ba-zillion thank you’s that I’ll try to give to Him, and to you, with my life.