Jesus

Christmas…

As I’m sitting down to write this, to connect, to take a breath and focus, I’m thinking that isn’t an easy thing, to find any kind of time, is it? We have so many demands right now, on our hearts, homes, schedules, and bank accounts. And if you know me at all, you already know what I’m going to ask:

How do we decide what gets our attention? How do we prioritize what we prioritize? Or, maybe a better question is, are we deciding, or prioritizing, at all? Or just allowing our lives and this particularly busy season to run us over?

My youngest son is coming home from college for 2 weeks, before he gets on a plane to fly to Texas for his team to play basketball. My oldest son is taking some time off to spend at home with us, as is The Angel. We have family Christmases, shopping, dinners, and, well, all the things everybody has now. It’s awfully cold, which adds that uncomfortability, and apparently, the Christmas decorations in Pennsylvania aren’t colored lights and trees, but orange cones and construction signs.

The point is, if we don’t practice some level of mindfulness, this season easily runs us over, and then, it’s January and dark and we’re wondering where the time went. I always tell the people I get to marry, “the saddest thing I see is when the couple gets so overwhelmed in the day, thinking about anything & everything, and afterwards, they think about the day and don’t remember a bit of the ceremony where they got married.” And the more I think about it, that applies to so much more than a wedding day.

I’ll sit down on Saturday with The Angel’s family, we’ll open presents and eat terrific food with people we actually like. (What a blessing it is to like those we love, right?) Then, we’ll leave and not see some of those people again until next year. It’s a huge opportunity squandered to miss it, thinking about anything else, allowing any of the 1,000 things that are fighting for our attention to distract from those in front of us.

I considered taking a big break from these posts. But I won’t, because the connection with you is important. Hopefully, the many moments I take to write can lead to a few moments of peace for you to pause the spinning wheel to read.

That’s just one of the things I am choosing. Only you know what all is fighting for you. What are the items you’ll choose? They certainly won’t be the ones I choose, and that’s perfect. We’re very different, we have different families, schedules, concerns and possibilities. We just need to choose. Let’s not let one more day, one more moment, pass that we miss, simply because our bodies, minds, and hearts weren’t in the same place.

Now. One last thing I’d like to suggest. Every second, our bodies, minds, and hearts should be in the same place, but maybe we could spend the seconds of this month in the place where we are celebrating the birth of a God Who would save us all. Maybe we could spend these seconds in gratitude. (And I say that knowing some of us have so much sadness, and emptiness that the season magnifies – what I have learned is that the sweetest gifts we are given are each other to hold and cry with, and often times that is all we get, and it will have to be enough.) Maybe we could turn our attention away from the presents under the trees and toward the presence we give freely to each other. And most of all, toward His presence, His love, in our lives, our relationships, and our world.

A New Thought

I read a New Testament passage and an Old Testament passage every day. It’s study, but not really specifically for any sermons, mostly just for me. Sometimes, it turns into something more. Other times, I just copy verses in my notebook and maybe write any thoughts I might have on them. I’m in 1 Corinthians and Isaiah, now.

Today, Isaiah 61:1-2 read, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, He has appointed me to bring Good News to the poor, comfort the broken-hearted…announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, and the blind will see…He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.“

This sounds familiar because it appears again in Luke 4, where Jesus (at the beginning of His earthly ministry) goes into a Synagogue, unrolls a scroll, and reads this passage. It’s a goosebumps moment. Imagine if you were there, and this is happening in front of you, that a man comes as a teacher, and reads from a book you have known, about prophesies you have been waiting to see fulfilled, and makes the “me” about Himself. We have the benefit of hindsight, we know what is happening, what will happen, and most importantly, who He is. But imagine if we didn’t. Imagine if it was only a possibility. Could this be the One we’ve been waiting for?

Anyway, I love these kinds of moments. But today, I’m seeing this passage in a new way, connected to the path we’ve been on.

Sunday, we talked about 1 Corinthians 13 (incidentally, not where I am currently in 1 Corinthians – I’ll get there soon) as a statement on what it looks like to live & move through our lives as Jesus followers, in love (patiently, kindly, etc). This is a new branch of the same tree to be included in our self-examination.

We are called to bring the Good News – are we? To comfort the brokenhearted – are we? To announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, that the blind will see – are we? To testify that the day of the Lord’s favor has come – are we? We are to do all of these with our hearts and bodies, as well as our mouths.

So, I know this is a 2nd post in as many days, but living an awake/aware existence today, here & now, leaves us in a peculiar position. We are saddened, broken daily with the behavior of our brothers and sisters, as well as our own. We feel powerless to change. And it is too easy to get caught up in this downward spiral of vitriol and violence. We need a way out, light in this increasingly dark tunnel. How can we do this? How can we find beauty and truth, even in this? How can we BE that beauty and truth, even in this?

Am I loving? Am I choosing to act like a walking, talking, breathing 1 Corinthians 13? (Now, if I say no to that, then there are different questions, I suppose. Or not. Maybe we are just deciding to use the tools of the enemy to fight back, following the same patterns that created such a mess. As King said, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”)

We can choose to love each other, no matter what. (And it’s the “no matter what” that is such a high, treacherous mountain to climb.)

And we can choose to bring the Good News, the one true Gospel of Jesus Christ, with every thought, word, and deed. Are our words (and posts) announcing freedom and sight? Are we pointing to the life He gives?

I sat in the stands last night at a basketball game at Lycoming college, thinking about everything that was happening. The boys (young men) using the gifts they have been divinely bestowed, the coaches teaching them, the service of the referees, and those of us in the bleachers all together in one giant mixing bowl. Was all of it loving? Was all of it praise, worship? Of course not…

But some of it was. And that’s what’s so cool and hopeful. We can change our present (there isn’t any changing our future – the tomb was empty and God wins), we can choose a new path. It just takes our submission. It just takes us taking our thoughts and actions and bringing them into (or at least closer to) His will. We can love, and we can drive out this hate. All it takes is everything, and it starts right now.

[That’s the end of the post, but Thursday is Thanksgiving and I wanted to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I am truly grateful for you, in every way. I’m grateful you read these posts. I’m grateful to walk alongside of you, to build my pyramid scheme of love with you. – And one last thing, I said, “all it takes is everything,” right? I am fully grateful that the “everything” we are (and have) is from His strong, loving hands.

Ok, 1 last, last thing: When I think about His grace and mercy on my life, I think of my 2nd favorite children’s book, “Horton Hatches The Egg,” and how often the last line appears to have been written specifically for me. “And they sent him home happy, 100%” Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.]

A New Submission & Thoughts on It

I received a new submission to this blog, and I’ll share it in a minute (with my thoughts).

But first, I do want to tell you that I am still reeling, still taken apart by Sunday’s message on 1 Corinthians, chapter 13: the love chapter. The simple fact that it is a choice, a decision we consciously make, is overwhelming. When I act in an unloving way (impatient, unkind, easily angered, keeping score/record of wrongs, etc), for whatever reason, it is a rejection of Jesus’ role in my life, heart, hands, feet & behavior. – reading over that paragraph, it sounds jumbled and full of side comments, paths & parentheses. I’m not cleaning it up, because that’s exactly how I feel.

Now, the submission (from an anonymous author):

“Lee and Annette Woofenden indicate the possibility that a happily married couple, under certain conditions may be reunited in Paradise. In a message entitled, “Loving Jesus More Than Life” by John Piper, dated November 23, 2015, he refers to Matthew 10:37 “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” and “Whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

If our desire to enter Heaven is based on wanting to be reunited with a happily married spouse and that desire exceeds waning to enjoy the love of Jesus, we risk losing the thing we desire due to incorrect priority.

Jesus is aware of our love for a spouse. If we love Jesus foremost, He will provide a love relationship for a spouse or parent or child.”

I don’t know if you remember, a few months ago, we received another submission that was posted (September 22, 2025, “Til Death?”) on a similar subject. This one has a slightly different tone.

“Till Death?” details the unselfish, beautiful, covenantal marriage relationship that could (and that’s all we really have in our limited knowledge, isn’t it? a “could.”) endure forever and ever in paradise. Here, the thoughtful writer explores the “risk” of an “incorrect priority.” It is as if he goes down a path, then, satisfied, wonders if the path is the right path, ultimately deciding that whatever the path, the love of Jesus must be “foremost.” I don’t know, so this is only my imagination, but it seems like a person wrestling with the Scriptures and his/her place in them.

We can (and often do) read the Bible and, if it doesn’t agree with our opinions, we toss it aside. We want the Bible to submit to our will, instead of the other way around. Seemingly, this person isn’t content to leave a thread of faith, and his heart for God, unexplored. And if his faith & heart don’t line up, then he/she will take any level of demolition and reconstruction to make sure it does. It’s a beautiful picture of a marriage to a spouse, and even more so of a marriage to His/Her Creator/Savior.

I now see that’s what is ravaging me about this week’s love message. I don’t always want to act in a loving way. I want to be impatient, I want you to know what you did wrong and apologize. When you hurt me like this, I want you to change. I like the adrenaline of anger. I really, really like to be right. I lose hope. And I can give you a million reasons why, and for at least a hundred of them, you’d agree with me. You’d think I am justified in my un-love.

And this beautiful Bible… And the words, life, death, resurrection, and heart of Jesus, to all of my well-thought arguments, listens patiently, nodding along, validates my feelings, maybe He weeps at my broken heart & spirit (just like He did for Mary & Martha), but He hears me, really hears me, and then I imagine He looks me straight in the eyes HE created for me, and softly, tenderly, says, “Yeah, about that. You know how much I love you, but I don’t care about that at all. You’re going to love them anyway.”

He knows I will. I will choose Him, choose love. So I try. I mean, I will, eventually (because there is only “do or do not, there is no try”).

We don’t get it right today, or all the time, we just keep showing up – to Him, to each other, to ourselves. And as our anonymous author shows us, if we can just not give up, He leads us to the right answers.

Wings

One day last week, at a college basketball game, the Angel and I watched our boy play. He played very well; unselfish, aggressive and with an intensity that may have been surprising if you had not watched his commitment over the past several years, alone in the gym, in the driveway, or outside on the local courts before the sun came up. This was awesome, but it was not the best part of our evening. We were also relayed stories of how he is fitting in, as a great teammate, and an “even better human.” Then, after the game, we walked to our car with him, his girlfriend, and his best friend. Once we were on the road (following a really terrible route from the GPS), I texted how beautiful I thought this circle of friends was, that he’s creating….How beautiful this life was, that he’s creating.

The next day, the Angel and I attended our older son’s workshop for a family dinner party. We sat, barely getting time to eat, as we were flooded with stories of who our boy is. He’s kind, respectful, funny, strong, and sweet. When we got home, I told him how proud of him I was, about this man he’s becoming, this life that he is creating.

You see, he has always been this person. He has always been kind, respectful, funny, strong and sweet. He’s one of the best I’ve ever had the privilege to know, how much more to live with him and watch him every day. My prayer has always been that he fully step into who he is, every part of himself, authentically, and let that out, just open himself and get it all over everyone. It has been my prayer for his brother, too.

The boys we know so well have not always been public. To use a phrase from the Bible, they have sometimes hidden their blinding light under hesitant buckets. We want the world to experience the blessings we have.

It’s hard, probably impossible, to fathom Who God is – His patience, forgiveness, grace, and love. Sometimes, all we have is our own experience. And this is sort of how I imagine God feels, when we put on our authentic selves and start to become all of who He has created us to be.

My boys are different, sometimes wildly so, in their personalities, desires, ambitions, talents and gifts. Who they are growing into are not clones of each other, there aren’t molds they comfortably fit. It’s like that with us, too. You are not me. We are not carbon copies of anyone else. (We are all equal, in Him. He loves us all the same, as sons and daughters. But loving us the same is not the same as making us the same.) I love Morrissey and Fight Club, and you love… well, that’s a bad example, we all love Morrissey and Fight Club, but you get the point. The Angel likes hikes and I like to lift weights, she likes mashed potatoes and I like anything but mashed potatoes. None of us are alike, and that is absolutely the design. We are all the way we are, for a purpose.

And when we start to step into that purpose, to take these new wings that we’ve always had out for a test flight, I think Our Creator rejoices. I think He says, “YES, finally!! Wait until this world gets a taste of (Cathy or Diane or Trish or Josh or whoever, anyone, everyone)!” It’s like He’s painted a masterpiece and just can’t wait for us to remove the curtain, so that everybody can see it.

In this scenario I imagine, you are the masterpiece. So am I, and so is your neighbor and your enemy.

Of course, it’s a flawed analogy. God is not like us. He’s waaaayyyy better, better than we could possibly dream, by miles and miles, by infinity. He is the One that gave us these wings, He wants us to use them. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we hide. Sometimes, we pretend to be someone else. Sometimes, we don’t know who we are, we don’t know we have these magnificent wings.

And, in my limited human perspective, I imagine that when he sees us find them and stretch them out, it’s a lot like how I felt last week.

Do I?

I behaved abysmally this morning. Now, what exactly happened isn’t important, but that it happened is. Poor behavior mostly all comes from the same place, and I am no different. I read a book that suggested that those times when we get ourselves into trouble stem from a clever acronym of emotional states: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, And T (I don’t remember what the T stands for…Tired!! That’s it!). HALT: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. I am currently a combination of all of those, and the book used its clever acronym to ask us to halt, instead of making a mess. I did not halt; I made a mess.

[I hesitate to write this post, because it’s very possible to read these posts and miss the meaning. I am not fishing for encouragement, do not need cheering up. This is different from reading a post written by someone you don’t know personally. You are beautiful, you deeply care for me, and may feel concern. I am ok. I would reach out, if that were not the case. This is not simply an overshare, I do have a specific reason for writing, and oversharing just provides the context;) You’ll see why I am ok, at the very end. Now.]

I do not behave abysmally very often, anymore. Honestly, this morning was wildly out of character, surprising me and the other involved parties. It is not a lifestyle, I didn’t recognize myself at all. It was an embarrassing momentary catastrophe, and will have virtually no long-them effects (except in my own head & heart).

That’s not an excuse – I have no excuses, and don’t need any. But it is important, because how we respond to ourselves and our actions depends on if it is a sin, or a lifestyle of sin. Did we fall in a hole, or are we choosing to jump in that hole and live there? I fell. Now what?

Sometimes, we encounter mirrors that contain an important question about our beliefs and values. We say we believe these things, do we really? Do I?

If you were to relay the same story to me, if our roles were completely reversed, I would tell you how loved you are. I would not judge, I would acknowledge the punishment you had already inflicted on yourself, recognize your contrite repentance, immediately forgive, and encourage you to give you a break and move forward. I would do all of these things, because I whole-heartedly believe Romans 8, that there’s no condemnation in Christ Jesus, that God takes our sins as far as the east is from the west, and remembers them no more. I think He accepts our repentance with joy, seeing growth and a heart that wants to beat for Him (even if it sometimes can’t help to beat for itself, with disastrous consequences.) And I think He asks us to love each other in the same way. I would recognize the roots (the HALT situation) and try to address those, together.

I believe those same truths apply to me, too. That is my theology. And when I come upon this mirror of conviction that asks if my theology is my application, is my practice, I wonder what my answer is. Do I? And do I so much that I would continue to work to undo an entire lifetime whipping myself with my self-loathing. When faced with cracks in my character, can I have grace for me, too? Are they actually cracks, at all? Can I move forward as a new creation, forgiven from my human fragility, and made holy, in Him?

The mess I made took about 5 minutes, beginning to end, but it only took 3 seconds to be sorry about it. Right at the start. The rest of the 5 minutes was an apology and explanation, an attempt to halt, call timeout and come back in to shore, back home.

The lie says that the mess is me, and the rest of my whole life is the illusion, a construct that was bound to fall at some point, that I could only fake for so long, and the real me would eventually emerge. The truth is that these holes we all fall in, from time to time, do not change our identity. I am not perfect, I was never supposed to be. I am a work in progress, He is transforming me every moment, every day.

It’s sometime an attack to our ego to admit that we are still becoming, that we have not arrived, that we don’t have it all perfectly together. But, attack or not, it’s true. So now what? What do we do?

I knew what I would do, and as I ran to Him by opening my Bible, I read a short line on Hezekiah in the book of Isaiah. A foreign power threatened him and his people, and he was afraid. (That was the lie he heard, all lies aren’t the same for each of us, not even the same for ourselves, at different times.) He freaked out, and immediately ran into the Temple in prayer. Me, too. I freaked out, and ran right into His arms, hoping He’d be merciful and tell me the Truth, about this, about me, and in that, most importantly, about Himself. I found just what Hezekiah did, that He is very willing to do that, over and over again.

I guess I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, I’m supposed to carefully cultivate a bulletproof image. Of course, I don’t struggle, don’t fall in any holes, am never hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. But what I could never get through my thick head is that, if I pretend to actually be that ridiculously dishonest image, I am saying it’s just you. I would be building false walls and blasphemous hierarchies.

We are all on this journey, to Him, WITH Him. Of course, we’re at different places. Someone is always further along. We’re just walking each other home. And I think we all have these holes, questions, and mirrors. It’s what we do when we face them that matters, that shows where our faith is, and if what we say is really what we believe. Probably, living a life of faith is just a series of steps closer to answering that question with a “yes.”

New Words

I wrote a book called Be Very Careful Who You Marry (The other one I have written, so far, is Chronicles, Nehemiah, and Other Books Nobody Reads. I love that title, but I like Be Very Careful Who You Marry even more, mostly because my dad unknowingly titled that one 40ish years before I wrote it. I think he’d be very, very proud how careful I was; like him, I married well out of my league. Anyway.) and in it, I included several words that created the foundation for a marriage, the fabric of our Bridge community and my life. These are words like Intention, Attention, Respect, and Communication.

Last week, I think I added 3 more. This was not actually my intention, but as I gave the message, they felt vital, and since then, as I consider them, they gain even more weight.

We discussed the Grace we have been extended, and that we extend to each other. The Grace that recognizes that we are made in the image of God, and covered with the love of God, a love so great that it would lead Him to the cross. If those are all true, how could we not give it to each other??? How could we look down or dismiss those whom He has made? How could we speak such venomous words to anyone, when He says, “when you did it for/to them, you did it to me?” (That’s a paraphrase, but you can read the actual passage in Matthew 25.) Grace doesn’t recognize “them,” only “us,” because in Christ, their is no “them.” Grace sees us all as His, and behaves as if we all have the honor that comes from being children of The King.

Then, well, it’s not just one word, it’s more of an idea, but we can call it Perspective. There is a BIG story we’re in, not just here, now, to us. It is His story and it extends forever in all directions. Have you ever heard that helpful question, “will it matter in 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 years?” It helps us put this moment, which we so easily elevate into massive proportions, into perspective. How about adding, “will it matter in/for eternity??” Maybe the record of the 2025 Dallas Cowboys won’t, right? Then maybe it shouldn’t matter quite so much to us.

This is a fascinating paradox, because, taken with the first one (Grace)… Yes, it is His Story and not ours. Yes, the time line is infinity and not measured in days and months. Yes, the Dallas Cowboys record isn’t of eternal significance. BUT. This God loves us so much, loves His creation so much, that all of it matters. Everything that matters to us matters to Him, so it actually elevates the value of each moment. His love turns the tiniest blink sacred & holy. Cool, right?

The last one is Gratitude. I’m listening to a song by Briston Maroney, called “Paradise,” and it is soooo good, loudly singing along while I’m wiggling in my chair, eating an Asian pear. This house, this chair. Tonight, I’ll eat cheeseburgers with my wife and oldest son, then we’ll probably watch the new Jurassic Park movie. What could possibly be better than any of this? Now, a song called “Better Than Love,” by Hayley Kiyoko. The hook is, “Somebody tell me, what’s better than love?” This Hayley is so right, what could ever be better than love? Yet we forget so often, don’t we? These miracles go unnoticed because we are sleeping through our lives. Everything is a gift. And if everything is a gift, if we don’t deserve anything, if nothing is ours, then we can simply say “Thanks” and be content with whatever it is that we are able to hold, for however long we get to hold it. We could even share it, or give it away.

How could we transform our lives, families, neighborhoods, countries, our world, if we truly adopted these principles, and took them out into every day, every relationship, every policy, every procedure? It’s staggering to imagine. We’d eliminate envy, worry, the headache of having to remember each offense and keep score. We’d be able to stop trying to get even, or to get more. Our words could create a brand new reality. We’d be present and aware. Kisses and hugs would take on new meaning, we could begin to listen, we would show up. I really, really love to dream about these kinds of things, the transformation of the entire world that begins with 2 people giving each other our undivided attention, remembering that they are made in His image, that this day & this breath are wonders, that we are loved and have nothing to do but stop running and receive it. Remembering that we get to love each other, too.

And, honestly, what’s better than love?

Last Saturday’s Wedding

I get to officiate weddings, fairly often. [I never like the word “officiate,” it reminds me of referees and umpires, which inevitably leads me to associate an embarrassing level of incompetence. Ha, I’m just kidding. But I do think calling balls and strikes and joining 2 people in one of the most wonderful gifts God has ever created are wildly different, and absolutely should not share the same word. Anyway.] This weekend was a unique wedding, it was a surprise.

Every time I have mentioned this ‘surprise’ wedding, I am asked, “Is it a surprise to the couple?” I can’t tell if they’re joking when they ask. Is this a thing? Could I have sprung a roomful of our closest family & friends on Angel, to marry her? Do people ever do this? I guess they do, but this was not that. There were 4 people in the room who knew, the soon-to-be husband and wife, the Angel and I.

The room itself was packed and noisy, as the ruse was a family reunion. Now, not only were we not technically part of this family, it was even more noteworthy. This was a very Hispanic family, and as you may be aware, we are not Hispanic. We were the only white people, whom no one knew, in this “family.”

[Another thing of which you may be aware, is that I do not ascribe to the tenets of the modern religion of tolerance. I do not call myself colorblind. I see colors, races, and cultures very clearly. And I do not tolerate them at all. As a matter of fact, I think to simply tolerate another human being (no matter their demographic) is much, much less than adequate. We are called to love, in no uncertain terms. We love our neighbor, not, as it is defined, “allow the existence without interference…endure (something unpleasant or disliked) with forbearance.” This is not progressive thought, it is holding our nose and ignoring something we don’t like, and refuse to like. I am blissfully intolerant. Instead, I am a lover. So, this party was loud, affectionate, beautiful, and they easily welcomed me with open arms.]

We pretended to begin to play a game, which quickly was revealed to be not a game at all, and instead was the first day of the marriage of 2 of the coolest people you’d ever meet, who had been together for 30 years! I was not only the game show host, not only a guest of their family, but I was the pastor that had the honor of marrying them.

Usually, weddings are a fairly subdued affair. They’re quiet and ordered. I often get the feeling that the ceremony is seen as the entrance fee to the reception. But, either way, everyone is mostly quiet and might be listening. This wedding was not one of those. It was raucous and fantastically joyful. Everyone was crying, taking pictures, dancing. Of course, they were listening – though it did require an adjustment on my part, more pauses, and significantly more volume.

Do you know what liminal spaces are? They are places in time where we imagine the distance between ourselves and God shrinks, where God comes near and the separation disappears. As I write it, it’s kind of a clumsy term/metaphor. It implies separation at all other times. This is not at all accurate, but you understand the idea. There are moments where we are totally aware of the Divine, His boundless love for us, and we are given a picture of what His creation could be. This was one of them. Sunday mornings are another. Well, there are a lot of them, if I’m honest, if we just can stay awake.

SO, this place was noisy and awesome, and right in the middle, everyone stopped talking, no one moved an inch. I saw them holding each other, each pair of watery eyes on me. And what was it that caused this sharp, shocking contrast? I was reading the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13, to be exact. The Word of God filled us, and no one could move, overwhelmed with reverence and His presence.

And that’s the point, isn’t it? We are all different; different geography, experiences, ideas, different lives and perspectives. But God brings us all together, bridges every divide, until we are finally able to clearly see that those wonderful differences pale in comparison to the one thing we all have in common, which is that we are all brothers and sisters, children of the One True Living God.

Riot!!!

[This was a casualty of the message last week. It’s not that it wasn’t important, it was simply too long for a single Sunday, and wouldn’t fit next week. But this is a great opportunity. In a new medium, we have a different experience. We have more time, space, we can pause, look up verses, consider the questions and implications. At the same time, we don’t have the immediacy and energy of the physical presence or the community. It’s a mixed bag, but a cool mixed bag of possibility. Like so much of the online world, it can be an awesome supplement, but is a poor substitute for actual, real, in person, life, together. So, here we go…]

As the Gospel spreads, the news that Peter has been eating previously forbidden foods with Gentiles (gasp!!) reaches Jerusalem…(Acts 11:1-3)

This is great news, new people are hearing and receiving the Good News of Jesus Christ. But… (What? How can there be a “But” – isn’t the idea that we are to carry the Gospel to the “ends of the earth?” Yes, but maybe only if it doesn’t reach those people.) Yes, of course, there is always a “but,” always criticism. When we face this inevitability, how do we respond? Do we see it as a sign? Of what? If there is opposition, do we see it as a closed door, or a challenge to push harder? What we see here is that criticism is not necessarily a sign that we are wrong, but instead, maybe a sign that we are right where we need to be.

Peter explains his actions, and then what? How is all of this received?

V. 18 “When the others heard this, all their objections were answered and they began praising God,” I love this, and so do you, but it does ask some very hard questions of us: Can we change our minds? Are we so invested in having all of the answers, is our value so tied to being right, that we can’t even consider anything else, even with new evidence? The Gospel has a cost (which is, primarily, the disposal of our very own “gospel of me”), are we prepared to bear that massive cost? 

And then, we later see, there is another way to respond to the message: (Acts 19:21-32)

Demetrius, a silversmith, makes his very prosperous living making shrines of the goddess Artemis. (This is an illustration of the inverse of Ephesians 2:10: Our God makes art, masterpieces, out of people. Demetrius makes art out of the gods.) With his business & lifestyle threatened, Demetrius starts a riot.

Have you ever read a book or a Bible passage, saw a movie, heard a talk or tv show, and thought, “Oh boy, if this is true, nothing can ever be the same again?” “I can’t do ___, I can’t feel, vote, think, say, watch, whatever, ever again. Everything will change.” That is exactly what’s happening here. They’ve built a society that’s veracity & validity is under attack.

The Ephesians justified their greed & idolatry (worship of the goddess Artemis), wrapping it in religion, in tribalism. We know it’s not. The idol looked like money, comfort, power, but that’s superficiality. The real idol is always ME.

The Gospel saves us, but it does threaten us, as well. There is a cost. Jesus and His amazing grace threaten our ego, which wants to riot to protect itself. Our ego wants us to choose the pigs. (Luke 8:26-39)

These are big questions Peter’s story, Paul’s story, the book of Acts, and the Great Commission ask: As The Gospel moves in our towns, cities, families, and lives, starting riots, disrupting all we know, disrupting “just how it is,” “just how we are,” disrupting our values, relationships, realities, religion, politics, society, disrupting every-single-thing, what will we choose? With all of this set before us, now what???

“Now what?” is one of the most exciting doors we can open. Are we willing to put someOne or something before ourselves? Are we willing to put the relationship before the win? Are we willing to start to dismantle the fragile houses we’ve built on sand, for the promise of a new, eternal house built upon the solid rock of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Once we’ve seen the Truth, do we respond in praise or a riot?

Now what?

Till Death?

I received this beautifully considered & written piece from a fellow brother at the Bridge (who wishes to remain anonymous):

(But before you see it, understand that this is the sort of thing I had always envisioned this space to be – a space where anyone/everyone in our community could express themselves, on the things that matter to you. I love the idea of us being prompted by the Spirit, so much so that we would sit down and follow that prompt, wherever it takes us. It can start conversations, here or elsewhere, but it will certainly affect us, ask us questions, and invite us into a deeper relationship, with God, ourselves, and the others in our circles. Enjoy!)

“The phrase “Till Death Do Us Part” is frequently contained within marriage vows. Matthew 19:4-6 (CEV) states: “Jesus answered, ‘Don’t you know that in the beginning the Creator made a man and a woman? That’s why a man leaves his father and mother and gets married. He becomes like one person with his wife. Then they are no longer two people, but one. And no one should separate a couple that God has joined together.’”

Death of a Christian spouse releases their soul to Paradise while the other remains on earth. When the remaining spouse dies, will that soul rejoin their married partner? Possibly, according to Lee and Annette Woofenden, under certain conditions: 1) Each individual would need to be in a right relationship with God; 2) Each of the married couples must love the other more than themselves.

In the article, “Will Happily Married Couples be Together in Heaven?” by Lee and Annette Woofenden, they state the following: “What God does is not temporary, but eternal. So, if God joins man and woman in marriage, it is a relationship that can last forever.”

This article and related articles may be viewed at: “How does Marriage Fit In with a Spiritual Life? Is There Marriage in Heaven?”

What do you think? Will our souls rejoin our earthly spouses in Paradise??? It’s a fascinating possibility, that could provide hours, and months, years of contemplation, not to mention the huge box those 2 conditions open. There are verses/passages to follow down as many “rabbit trails” as you’d care to walk. This is the beautiful opportunity of the Bible and of The Church. We read the Scriptures, begin to be transformed, then take those new thoughts, insights, ideas, doubts, and questions to others we trust to keep turning over the jewels, getting deeper and deeper through our engagement. 

So, engage!! Turn it over, wrestle, think – we have been given the unfathomable gift of relationship with the Creator of the Universe (and of us), why would we not lean in? 

But, as for me, on this subject, in case you were wondering…I certainly hope so.

Psycho Catfish

There is a new documentary on Netflix, called Unknown Number: The High School Catfish. A catfish is an actual fish, a “diverse group of ray-finned fish,” “any of an order (Siluriformes) of chiefly freshwater stout-bodied scaleless bony fishes having long tactile barbels,” but it is also a person who pretends to be someone else online. They masquerade for lots of reasons, from self-consciousness to pedophilia, and everything in between. There is a show on MTV called Catfish, that I love, that details the search to uncover the identities of internet love interests. This search/reveal can be light and insignificant or it can be devastating.

This documentary is not the light, insignificant kind.

A 15 year old girl starts getting text messages from the same person using unknown numbers. The texts are shockingly lewd, inappropriate, mean, and bullying. They are about sex acts with her boyfriend, trying to break them up, they are hateful missives about her looks & weight, and they encourage her to commit suicide. Sometimes, there are a few, sometimes as many as 50 or 60 per day. The police are involved, and are completely ineffective in exposing the sender. Finally, it is an FBI agent who discovers that it is… (spoiler alert!!!)…the girl’s MOTHER!!!!!!!!!!! The mom makes excuses and is awfully unlikable. That’s all we’ll say about the film, except to say I didn’t really care for it (for lots of reasons.)

This post is called “Psycho Catfish,” which is what she was, right? She was awful and went to prison for around 19 months, and should probably have been longer – the text abuse lasted longer (almost 2 full years). Right? She cried hollow tears over the worst of the consequences, that she hasn’t seen her daughter – the same daughter she tormented. Can you have empathy for this woman, the best documentaries ask. Can you? How can a human being be capable of this??

Now. In Acts 9, Jesus stops Saul on the road to Damascus and says, “Why ate you persecuting ME?” Saul was chasing the early followers of Jesus, capturing them and bringing them back “in chains,” often to their death. He wasn’t persecuting Jesus, just His followers, right? Just? In the Gospels, Jesus said, “when you did (either good or evil, getting food & drinks or not) to/for them, you did it to/for ME.”

We have read these passages, sometimes many, many times. But this all happened 2,000 years ago, what do they possibly have to do with us?

Well, these verses seem to suggest that the things we do/say/think/post about people, we are doing/saying/thinking/posting about HIM. If that is the case, then what? I called that mom a psycho, decided that she should have been in jail for much longer, and rolled my eyes at what I thought were crocodile tears. Does that mean I’m calling Jesus names? Is that using Him & His Name carelessly, disrespectfully? Is that blasphemy?

Well, if we take the Scriptures seriously, it probably is. The thing this mom did was wrong and terrible. Of this, we can agree. This is just the truth. However, what is also true is that Jesus sees her exactly the same way he sees his perfect people (like you & me;), with forgiveness, grace, and endless, limitless love.

What this mom did was heartbreaking, but were her transgressions worse than Saul’s??? No way. And, if we are honest, are they that much worse than my own worst moments? Maybe they are. I think they were, but of course I’d say that. So, who am I to decide?

You know I don’t think the Bible was written to shame us, so the fact that I’m calling this “Psycho Catfish” isn’t driving me into the ground. My thoughts about her aren’t pushing play on the tapes in my head that would crush me with guilt. As He has grace for her, and for Saul, HE has for me. Maybe I can, too?

But what they are doing is asking me some very hard questions, challenging me about my perspectives, my words, the way I see those around me (and especially those in Washington D.C.). If they are Jesus, then what? What if these stories in the Bible didn’t only happen thousands of years ago? It’s overwhelming to think they are still happening today, here, and now.