Jesus

Christmas Presents

Last week, I went to a Morrissey concert in Atlantic City. Morrissey is a pop singer, and he’s been my favorite artist since I was around 13 years old and heard a song called “Ask.” (I’ll talk about the actual show on my lovewithacapitall.com blog, if you’re dying to know more.)

I went with my sister to the show, and her husband (who, inexplicably, HATES Morrissey) and the Angel also came for the evening in the city. We stayed in a fancy hotel with a perfect view of the ocean, ate too much of a great meal and way too much, several times, from an interesting cafe.

Then, home for last minute preparations for Operation Christmas Child shoebox Sunday. I made the soup and the cake, she made the artichoke dip, and we eased our tired bodies (we’re older now and need more rest than we used to) into bed.

Sunday morning, the Bridge packed the boxes we delivered to the drop point a day later, and hopefully we all ate too much of the community meal. Together.

This was a beautiful weekend, full of meaning and significance. But Morrissey was the least of it. That’s strange to write, because for so many years, I would’ve said he was the most important figure in my life, singing the songs that detailed my (our) emotions and gave me 1 person who, I believed, understood. I would’ve told you he saved my life on more than one occasion, and that might be true.

But during the show, I looked at my sister and hugged her and told her how much I loved her, how I didn’t want to be with anyone else but her. The songs were great, but this relationship was so much better, deeper, with mountains of history between us. Morrissey didn’t know me, our history was a one-way street. Those songs just gave us another extraordinary reason to share the time.

The 4 of us had dinner and breakfast. The Angel and I watched the sun set and rise in our hotel window and on the beach. He’s the best brother in the world, and she’s just the best person. I’d rather kiss her once and share one meal of noodles than watch all of the Morrissey shows ever.

So, yes, of course, Morrissey doesn’t know me, but neither do the boys and girls half a world away who will open our presents, and packing their presents with love and prayer with my family opened me in wonderful ways for which I can never prepare.

This is more of a bullet point narrative post than a long thoughtful essay, but the point is that while Morrissey may have saved my life, it was just to bring me to the place where my life could actually be saved and redeemed. When I fell in love with Jesus (10+ years after I fell in love with Morrissey), it began a lifetime of restructuring my values.

The first time I saw Morrissey, I left my friend at the door to run to the stage to be in the front row. That’s where my values were then, I now forgive the boy that did it, but it isn’t me now. Morrissey connects us. Without the connection, without the relationships, they’re simply chords and lyrics (which are still miles better than most things).

Now, I prefer dinner with my sister and her husband. I prefer holding the Angel’s hand and watching the waves roll in. I prefer shoeboxes and pumpkin pie. I even prefer making a cake for others.

And all of those preferences ooze down into every area of my life from the One with the position at the top. I am so grateful that Morrissey moves me, grateful that he means so much to me, because it paints a picture (however inadequate) and packs a shoebox full of the love, belonging and fulfillment of the One who opens my eyes and heart and changes everything.

Everything & Everyone

On Sunday, we ended with verses that seemed fairly innocuous on the surface. But it sometimes goes like that, doesn’t it? When we’re reading the Bible and think the book or passage isn’t for us, or worse, if it’s for someone else instead (like, “I sure wish _____ was here to hear this! She needs it!”), it’s scalding hot water when we open our eyes to the truth. “Slaves, obey your masters…and masters, treat your slaves…” Not only does it have nothing to do with us, it’s pretty offensive. Why is the Bible giving us instruction on how to properly own other people or be owned people? This sounds like evidence for those that believe the Bible is outdated, at best, and horribly problematic, at worst.

(It’s not either of those, but we’re not going to get into that here, today.)

So, we all mostly checked out until the directive to do everything as if we were doing it for the Lord. I say “we” because, when I see some particular verses we’re studying for the first time, I wonder how in the world they are going to find some way in to our lives. But then we do, and the surprise only adds to the weight of the sledgehammer. Whatever I’m doing – singing, working on my Avengers puzzle, talking on the phone, deadlifting, dancing, writing this, cooking dinner, watching tv…whether I’m at work, home, the gym or grocery store, do it all as if I’m doing it for the Lord.

What if I’m tired, or sick, or irritable, or the job seems pointless, or my back hurts, or or or??? Still, as if it was for Him.

Taken a small, obvious yet scary, step further, if the things we are doing are for Him… Well, the rest of the passage is about how we treat each other, is it possible that… No, that can’t be possible.

Can it?

Jesus tells a parable where the sheep that got others a drink were getting Him a drink, and the goats that didn’t get others a drink were not getting one for Him. Taken together, are we to also treat everyone as if He/She were the Lord??? Everything & Everyone?

Tomorrow is Election Day in our country. What happens if we take these passages seriously, and do it as if we were doing it for the Lord? And (gasp!) treat everyone as if it were the Lord? If our Facebook posts and explicit flags/stickers had the beautiful Name of Jesus in the place of the people we hate most? What if we stopped thinking the monsters on the other side were stupid and uneducated and godless, and instead considered them made in the image of God, loved, accepted, holy? Would it become harder to treat others with our tongues dripping with venom if we woke up to the harsh truth that that nasty condescension was actually directed at Our Savior? What if we took seriously the command to love each other?

Do you think it would make a difference?

Something Everyone Should Know

The website that supports our Bridge website has a writing prompt. They want me to post everyday, I don’t know exactly why. I mean, I’m sure it has to do with advertising revenue, but how much are they getting from the Bridge Faith Community and it’s visitors? Maybe it’s significant. Who knows how these things are structured? Anyway, the site prompt for today is, “What’s something you believe everyone should know?” and that will go very nicely with what I opened this computer to write about today.

My youngest son recently committed to a college. It was a process that felt long, with lots of twists and turns (but as I have no reference point, maybe it was short and easy – this is a relative thing). One college, Drew University, took an early lead and mostly had him locked up. They had programs – 1 in particular – that he loved with wchich no other school could really compete. So, they had him. We bought some t-shirts with the Drew ranger on it, and assumed he’d go to northern New Jersey in the fall.

But in one month, their incompetence or indifference gave him pause enough to look closer at other schools and other, overlooked characteristics of Drew (none of which were terribly good). As they fell, Lycoming College grew. Then, one Friday and Saturday, we scheduled visits with admissions, 2nd tours, and basketball practice with each institution.

Lycoming was Friday, and as we pulled into the parking lot, the basketball coach was standing outside. He greeted us warmly and was our guide for the day. We ate together, attended meetings with the business professor and admissions counselor together, toured together, and attended practice together. Throughout the day, current basketball players met him with an obvious excitement, as did the administrative assistants, professors, and counselors not assigned to him. Everyone knew his name and pronounced it correctly. This is no small thing, the doctor’s office where he has been seen since birth still can’t work that out. Admissions gave him a folder with his acceptance and scholarship information, everyone stopped to congratulate him. The basketball presentation had his name & picture and where he’d fit in the program. We spent the whole day and, when we left, later than expected, the coach asked us to text him when we got home.

The next day, the Angel and my boy drove to Drew, for what we expected would be the same sort of treatment. I stayed home for a wedding and waited by the phone to hear the second half of the competition. Their admissions appointment began at 8:45am, and they called me before 9. He was given the same kind of folder and sent on his way. No tour, no personal meetings, no warmth. Just instructions to walk around and…whatever, until basketball practice began in the afternoon. Instead, they got in the car and came home, decision made.

If a man or woman treats you poorly before you are married, do you think it’ll get better afterwards???

Now, let’s return to the site prompt. The entire Lycoming College experience was designed to make my son feel valued. To them, he was worth their time, energy, and money. In the huddle as basketball practice began, the coach reminded them team that he was there, and to show him what they are about, their identity. Everyone in the entire school must have had the same meeting in the morning.

He called Drew to ask for a class list in his major and they did it, but gave him the information in the wrong major. It’s the little things that aren’t little at all.

What I believe everyone should know is that they are valued, accepted, and worth the time, energy, and money. I want them (us) to know they’re here for a reason, created in, by, and for love. I want us to know we’re not a mistake and certainly not the trash. Instead, we are wonderfully made and children of the Creator of the Universe.

Drew treated my son as if he were just another name, another number. As if he’d be lucky to be mistreated by them. They’re wrong. How many times have we settled for this sort of disrespect? How many times have we believed the lies – in words or actions – that we are expendable, ordinary (at best) and worthless (at worst)?

Everybody should feel how Lycoming made my son feel, should know they are wanted. And, I’m more and more convinced that it’s our business, wherever we are, to make sure they do.

Go First

Last Sunday, we recklessly dove into the deepest of water, discussing who goes first, in our closest relationships. (Maybe more than only our closest relationships.) Who loves first? Who honors first? Who respects first? Who submits first? Sure, it’s uncomfortable, because we really like when they do, but when we both wait for the other, then what?

The Bible has these passages on “household codes,” where we have some clear direction on how to deal with each other, creating healthy soil for beautiful marriages (etc) to grow. Quickly and easily, the answer is “I do,” no matter who is the “I” and who is the “you.” I imagine everyone there in Sunday is feeling a certain type of way, because it took me almost an hour to get to that last short sentence. But maybe the certain type of way is elated, maybe they hang on every word and wish it wasn’t over so soon, no matter how long it is?

Anyway. I wanted to write about this today. It is Wednesday, so there have surely been loads of opportunities to practice. Probably, Sunday afternoon gave plenty of chances to swallow our pride and step out and lean in.

Maybe you were thinking about that friend who never calls…and called her? Or maybe he didn’t do those dishes…so you did? Maybe you had a chance to withhold your affection to teach that husband of yours an important lesson… but didn’t? Maybe she was supposed to say how sorry she is and how right you are, but hasn’t yet, and now you’re faced with a sore backside and a choice… which you used to lay the offense down and move forward?

Or maybe, like my son, you took the opportunity to excuse your own behavior by quoting 1 Corinthians 13, “love keeps no record of wrongs.” Hahaha. The Bible comes in handy in many different ways, doesn’t it? If we know enough verses and are willing to disregard context, we can justify almost anything.

So, how did it go? Were you able to give some solid words of affirmation even though she hasn’t gotten you even the smallest, most insignificant, gift?? (I know, I know, no gift is small and insignificant for someone who speaks the love language of gifts, but you get the point.) Were you able to kiss her even though she hasn’t played a game or watched a movie with you in months??

This post could be called Even Though. We choose to _____ even though ______ . I’ll make dinner tonight for a crew who may not like it, may not appreciate what I’ve done, may not say thanks or clean up afterwards. Probably you will, too. Maybe you won’t want to, maybe you’ll seriously think about leaving dinner unmade, ingredients still in the fridge and cupboard. And we’ll all have a choice. Will we do it even though? Will we go first? Or will we dig in until someone recognizes my obvious high ground?

We were away on a 3 day vacation, and we all had many chances to plant ourselves in our high ground. But I think, the truth is, we all separately realized just how rare and fleeting these moments together are, and decided that missing them was just too high of a cost. Hopefully the next step for me is to realize just how rare and fleeting all moments are, and not miss any more in service of my own fragile ego, and plant something fresh and new in the ‘high’ ground.

Fall

My birthday has me reflecting on my own life, who and where I am, in a manner usually connected to New Years. Then, as I shared this with a very good friend, he said that he always gets pretty introspective in the fall. At the time, I didn’t see the obvious connection – of course, the fall is a natural time to turn our thoughts to transformation. Step outside and the evidence is all around us, every single thing is changing, the things that were one way now are becoming something new.

In my inbox today, I opened a corporate mass email that spoke about this very thing, called. “Falling Into Change: How to Embrace the Transformation of Seasons.” It read, “As we wave goodbye to summer and welcome the cool embrace of autumn, it’s the perfect time to reflect on the natural changes around us. The leaves aren’t the only things transforming—this season offers a chance to embrace personal growth and transformation, too…It’s a season that naturally invites reflection and renewal. While the trees shed their leaves, you can think of this time as shedding old habits, mindsets, or routines that no longer serve you…Fun Fact: Fall, also known as the autumnal equinox, marks a time of balance—equal daylight and night hours. This balance can inspire us to find equilibrium in our own lives. Maybe it’s time to balance work and play, or focus on both mental and physical wellness…Sometimes we have to let go of what was to make room for what will be. So, what can we learn from the trees?

1. Letting Go is Natural: Trees don’t cling to their leaves, they gracefully release them to make way for new growth. Take a page from nature’s book and release what’s holding you back—whether that’s fear, doubt, or even old habits. 2. Change Can Be Beautiful: Just like the vibrant fall foliage, transformation is beautiful. It’s easy to resist change, but when we allow ourselves to evolve, we often discover new and vibrant aspects of ourselves. 3. Growth Requires Patience: Just like nature doesn’t rush its transformation, you don’t have to either. Give yourself the grace to grow at your own pace this season.”

Now, some suggestions they give, which are quite helpful: “1. Set New Intentions: Fall is a perfect time for setting fresh goals. Whether it’s prioritizing your health, starting a new hobby, or simply adopting a more positive mindset, set small, achievable goals that align with the transformation you seek. 2. Declutter Your Space & Mind: Just as nature sheds, fall is a great time to declutter. Whether it’s your home, your schedule, or your mind, clearing out the unnecessary gives you space to grow. 3. Practice Gratitude: With Thanksgiving around the corner, gratitude is at the heart of the fall season. Reflect on what you’re thankful for and how those things have shaped your journey this year. 4. Embrace New Experiences: As the season changes, why not try something new? Whether it’s exploring a fall-themed activity like hiking, picking apples, or sipping on a new favorite warm drink, stepping out of your routine can ignite transformation.”

These are really great, right? These business blasts we mostly relegate to our “Junk” or “Spam” folder can be helpful, in the right context. I’m sharing them here for a few reasons. Transformation, Growth, Intention, and Gratitude clearly point to a Christian perspective. We check in to our own lives, show up with all of us, honestly, and evaluate where we are, what we’re doing and if those things are actually healthy and helping us. Then we seek Him, hold His hand as He leads us into a brand new life.

(Maybe next time, I’ll tell you about where my own journey, where the questions I’m asking, are leading me. Not today, though.)

We ask all of these questions on Sundays. The Bible asks these questions in nearly every verse, most often in the form of “Here’s the Truth, now what will you do with that????” Will we lean into our divine calling, or will we continue to hold with white knuckles to the lifestyle that may not serve us well anymore, maybe never has, or is actively destroying us?

All Truth is ours, we simply have to keep our minds and eyes open to see and claim it wherever we find it, even in our daily emails. There is a “however,” though. Not everything is Truth, not everyone is concerned with our finding life, and as we transform, we are learning to test what we encounter. This email is awesome, and it ends with, “Fall Into New Arrivals. Speaking of transformations, our Anniversary Collection is filled with fall-inspired designs to celebrate change in style. From natural earthstone bracelets to golden jewelry that shines as brightly as the autumn sun, our new arrivals are the perfect way to reflect the beauty of this season.”

There is Truth, but it is an advertisement, ultimately pointing to our cultural duty as consumers. That doesn’t mean it’s all meaningless, we don’t have to throw it all out with the bathwater because it’s got an agenda, it just means we need to learn to sift and sort. This makes me think of the Belt of Truth, which we are coincidentally discussing in our study of Ephesians. You can see, when our hearts, minds, and bodies are all awake and aware, we can (and probably will) find God weaving everything into the most beautiful tapestry of His grace for us.

What Will We Choose?

Sunday’s message was about one thing, but it certainly felt like a far bigger bridge to cross. We were talking about the words submission & love in the context of Ephesians 5, in a conversation about our marriage relationships, but so much of it felt like a message on the power of the tongue. The way we speak to each other has the power to build, and it also has the power to absolutely demolish.

Of course, this isn’t just the words we use. There’s a lot more to communication than what would be written on a transcript. There is our posture, non-verbal cues, expressions, body language. When I give these Sunday morning talks, it’s pretty easy to know what everybody thinks based simply on how they are sitting in the pews. A person leaning back with folded arms is having a very different experience than one who leans forward with wide, open eyes. And then, there are the ones who nod off – that’s something else altogether, with little to do with the content. Some scrunch up their faces, some smile, some physically turn their bodies away from me, some write (and it’s obvious if what they’re writing is about the message or funny notes to the one sitting next to them) and others are just patiently waiting for me to finish (and others not so patiently).

This hasn’t even touched on the heart postures we hold toward each other to affect the space between us. Brene Brown wrote a brilliant reference book, labeling & defining our emotions so we have the words to communicate what we are feeling effectively. Usually, we use 3 descriptions: happy, sad, mad. That’s it. But that isn’t nearly enough to adequately convey our current mental/emotional states.

She has a chapter called “Places we go when we feel wronged,” and lists “anger, contempt, disgust, dehumanization, hate, self-righteousness.” We know these are not the same feelings, but we’d often just say ‘mad.’ Contempt is not anger. Brown cites researchers that call contempt “perhaps the most corrosive force in a marriage,” and a “strong predictor of divorce.” My guess is that we didn’t need researchers to tell us that. We have seen the look of contempt, and when we see it in a relationship across the table, we know very well how far past the edge it has gotten and now can only helplessly wait for the official end.

Paul uses submission, respect, honor, and a million others in his letters, but they’re all really just love. These words are all choices. We choose to submit, respect…or to carry the wrecking ball of contempt. Like so much of the Bible, we are left with a BIG decision: What will we choose? Will we choose to heal or to cut further? Will we choose to set down the record of wrongs or put them under our pillows in bed? We have a lot more agency in this than we believe, we do have the power to write new chapters and create new worlds (we are made in the image of our God, and have His Spirit living in us, after all), if only we have the imagination to dream this new story.

Dancing Lessons

I had every intention to write about 31’s & 32’s and/or the rest of Sunday’s message. There was no shortage of topics to further discuss, or pools in which to dive deeper and deeper. The more we study the Bible, the more there is to study, to practice, and the more our lives can (and will) transform. Not just our lives, I’ve been dreaming about how the world around us would transform with more 32’s alive and engaged. Anyway, like I said, that’s what I was going to write about, but instead, we’ll talk about dancing.

The Angel & I are taking dancing lessons. We’ve learned the foxtrot, rumba, and swing – and when I say we’ve learned them, I mean we’re learning the most basic steps. Level zero. Our instructor shows us the positions, the steps, the beats, the building blocks, explains why, and hints at all of the possibilities with the higher levels (higher than zero;). It’s super fun, we like each other, laugh a lot, and I always love the way the Angel moves.

I am the leader – I recognize this is quite old-fashioned and so-not-2024, to have a man lead, but that’s how it goes. I decide where we’re going and what we’re doing, if she’ll turn or not, and if she does, under which arm she’ll go. And she’s supposed to follow.

You can see that this might present a problem. If you have ever had the pleasure of spending any time with the Angel, you know she is a born leader, an alpha, and she is the leader in nearly all of the spaces of her life. She does not like to be led, often for very good reason. (It took many years of our marriage until she was comfortable enough to trust me in any significant capacity…also for very good reason.)

So we’re dancing and our instructor, Artur, is encouraging my leadership and her following where I lead. It’s the only way it works, there can’t be 2 leaders, and even if I don’t exactly know the steps, I will, and it’s impossible for either of us to learn the dance without the basic structure intact. This week, he said to her, “You are not following, you are anticipating. You are going where you want to go, or where you think you should go. And when you do that, he cannot lead you.”

I became a much worse rumba leader, because that lesson was teaching much more than dancing, and my mind started to wander. I thought of my relationship with Jesus, and how He is the leader, only I fight Him because I think I know where we should go, what we’re supposed to do, I know what the steps are, not Him, and I’m actually trying to force Him to follow me. Right?!!!?? We’re dancing this life He’s given me, and instead of smooth graceful sweeping purposeful movements, it’s a power struggle. Well, it’s probably honestly not much of a struggle, if I need to drive this car into a ditch, He’ll probably let me. (Like that parable of the unforgiving debtor, the King forgives, but when the forgiven won’t, He says, ok, if that’s really what you want, I guess we’ll do it by your rules.) So our dance doesn’t look beautiful, it’s wooden, clumsy, and dis-jointed. It’s visual noise, and looks like neither of us know what’s going on and neither of us can hear the music.

These dancing lessons are great, we’re having a terrific time, and I’m wondering how my life would look and feel if I just stop fighting the flow and let Him finally lead.

Context

Sunday mornings are always interesting, for all of us. We wake up in certain ways. Saturday nights are interesting. The week before, the week ahead, how we slept, we sometimes have sore throats or coughs or allergic reactions. Maybe we had a fight with our husband, youngest child, or the washing machine is broken again. Work has been too heavy…or too light. Bills are due, and how are we going to make that work??? And now, by some miracle, we got up and left the house and came to this place, and what do we do with our hearts, our minds, our stubbed toes and too-tight pants?

I wonder if these people will notice? Do they have it all together, with their hugs and combed hair, or do they feel like me, too? When the singing starts, some put their hands up, some sing sooo loud, some just move their mouths, some don’t at all, and I just feel like crying. They call it worship…what is that? What exactly does it mean to worship?

And now the sermon? Everywhere else it’s a lecture or a talk, a teaching, but here, it’s a sermon. Is that cool, or is it weird? We’ll read parts of the Bible, and what if I can’t hear because I can’t pay attention? I just stare out the window or look at the pages, what does that say? I probably should have just stayed home…

This story, I’ve heard a million times. I know it, and this person talking, they know it, why are we still talking about it? I wonder what’s for lunch, or if we’re still fighting. Why are churches the only places where you can find pew-style seating? If they were so comfortable, wouldn’t they have caught on elsewhere? Maybe they haven’t because we have to step over each other to get in and out. Who knows? This place.

More music. Maybe I can leave now, before anyone talks to me? Is that what I want? Maybe not, maybe it would be cool to talk to someone, maybe I could tell them, maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone? But maybe they’d judge, maybe they’d raise their eyebrows and I’d know, right away, what a terrible idea it was to open, even a crack. Maybe I’d feel even more alone than I do right now? Is that even possible?

Now we are holding hands and praying. Does God hear, is he listening to the voice of a person in a small church in a small town? Do you know there are 1 million churches in this small town, I bet there are more churches than people. Why so many? Why do we pray? Is it so God changes His mind and decides to fix this, help me pay my bills, turn the doctor’s positive result negative? If He could, and if He loved me, why wouldn’t He just do that? And if He didn’t, why would my asking change anything? I thought He knew everything, knows what I want, what I need. Does He love me?

Why am I here?

So we leave, and on the way, someone looks at us, holds our hand, tells us they know, and they really do. Or they don’t, and we slip out before anyone can see the chaos in our hearts.

So, what is worship? I know now. It’s this. All of it. Showing up, as we are, thoroughly broken or euphoric (and everywhere in between) and asking allll of the questions. Pretending isn’t worship, it’s hypocrisy, and it has no place in a church. We bring the pieces of our lives and lay them at His feet – some of them are flawless in their beauty, and some are broken beyond ever being repaired, but in the loving hands of Jesus, and the Church He’s created, they are all gorgeous.

(…and, for the record, we never should have just stayed home;)

Where I Was Wrong

Yesterday, we discussed John’s 1st letter, chapter 1, verse 6, which reads, “If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.” AND I wrote a post last week about where we spend our time, money, energy, (who the AI on our phones says we are) and if those spaces are consistent with what we say we believe is important. If it’s not, John says we are liars.

If I say Morrissey is my favorite artist (he is), but listen to The Beatles every day, far more often than I listen to Morrissey, am I lying when I say Morrissey? Maybe. John says yes.

So, the question is, do I have to change the way I behave to have fellowship with Him? Essentially, are there things I have to do?

Then, after the service, a man gave me his thoughts. He said, “You have to change your life, you have to be different.” Really? Have to?

Are there things we have to do to have fellowship with Him? I now think it’s a bit more complex than that.

Paul will occasionally address, in his letters, the belief some held that, if we are saved by grace, if our salvation is truly by/through His grace alone, then we can (and will) do anything we want. This is true. (Maybe not the “and will” parenthetical.) It’s also a distortion. He writes those letters to people like me.

This is what I taught often in the early days of my ministry. I wanted, I needed, to settle any doubts of whether we are loved, what unconditional means, and how big His grace is. I’d say, “Does that mean we can do anything we want? Yes.” I followed that up with “…but what we want changes.” The emphasis was clearly on the “Yes,” and not the “…but.” And, perhaps not surprisingly, my ministry was not as effective as it could, or should, have been. I was limiting, or cheapening, the Gospel.

There is an idea of cheap grace. If you owe 50 cents, and I don’t make you pay it back, that’s nice. If you owe 50 billion dollars, and I don’t make you pay that back, then that’s much more than nice. The debt I pay for you is humongous. The forgiveness of something so large is life-changing. Where I was wrong is that by de-emphasizing the debt, I also de-emphasized the forgiveness. I minimized the gift. It doesn’t change the answer, it is still His grace alone, but it does certainly alter each of the moments that follow.

If it isn’t life-changing, like the $50,000,000,000, maybe we simply don’t know it’s 50 billion dollars, or we don’t have any concept of how big an amount that is. There are some very cool demonstrations on the relative size of a billion on YouTube – maybe we need to watch one.

Do we have to be different? We just are. Maybe we don’t have to, but maybe that’s because we stop using terms like that. Maybe we just don’t understand any longer why it would be a have to at all.

I used to avoid the word ‘sin,’ at all costs. I don’t anymore. Now, it’s the vehicle to adequately frame His forgiveness. It’s not attached to shame or judgment, instead, it’s the best way to illustrate His sacrifice. The want does change, and if it doesn’t, then maybe we don’t know what 50 billion dollars is.

When we understand the size of the gift, there’s a certain gratitude and shift in perspective that goes along with that and radically transforms our minds & lives. But even then, there will still be times we come to a fork in the road, hear a voice of temptation in our ears, and have to choose whether to “walk in darkness.” And I’m pretty sure, in those cases, it’ll help to think about those 50 billion reasons to follow the one that leads to the light.

The Pigs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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