The Color of Character

This week has marked the fiftieth anniversary of Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech. The speech defined a movement and is judged to be one of the top five speeches given in American history by many folks who rank these sorts of things. One of my, and many others, favorite lines in the speech is this sentence: "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."  Yes, yes and yes again.

This sermon\ speech, was one of many delivered that day on the mall of the Washington monument during the 'March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.' I must confess I never knew the name of the event until this week. I just remember the speech and the civil rights movement. A few years later, I found myself to be the only white guy in my class (there were white girls and for several years, there was only one black girl, Janie, thus our class was racially fifty\fifty) so I paid a little more attention to the civil rights movement. Much has changed because of that movement but so much hasn't changed and I think I see why. Why haven't more good things come even with so great a motivation as Dr. King's speech gave to blacks, whites and all wanting more equality and justice in this nation. In all these years, in all the subsequent speeches, in all the voting rights acts, affirmative action laws, in all the jobs bills, in all the hundreds and hundreds of programs designed to move our nation toward equality and justice for all, we still fight over race and justice issues and many divides are deep as ever. The clue to the problem is in the last five words of Dr. King's speech: 'the content of their character.' What have we done to promote the content of our national character? What have the bills, movements, speeches, actions, and laws accomplished with regard to helping individuals grow in the content of their character? All the laws have not changed hearts very much. Many of the movements polarized the population according to what effort or strategy or political party they felt would deliver what they wanted.  These merely showed the lack of character even the noblest of ideals could not reach. The solution forwarded over and over again was another politician, another program, another law, and more money thrown at the problems. This is not merely a black issue, a white issue, an Hispanic issue, an Asian issue, a Muslim issue, a Hindu issue, an economic issue or even an American issue.
It is a human issue.
But there is a color solution that address the problem and transcends the divisions on all levels of humanity and needs. The color is red and flows from the wounds of Christ. His blood washes the sins of humanity and every human. He changes and re-births the character of each believer who follows Him in faith. America has sought political solutions to spiritual problems. America has settled for tolerance when Christ has called humanity to love and respect. G. K. Chesterton said nearly a hundred years ago that "tolerance is the virtue of a man without conviction." America has settled for jobs creation when Christ offers a new creation. America has sought economic parity and economic riches when Christ calls His people to stewardship and loving generosity. We are not to be an enabler of the lazy, but an empowering and encouraging force for the hurting. Christ's freeing men from sin and guilt and offering to all mankind the grace and joy of living His Kingdom life will inspire and uplift men to the highest ideals. We have aimed too low and lead low lives as a result.

What do you do, what can I do, what can our churches do to increase the content of our character? Let's try re-focusing on the neglected part of the speech. Let each person, each church, each believer rise to the call of the Spirit of God and allow Him to grow the fruit of Jesus' character in our lives (Gal. 5:2-25). Make every effort to add to your faith goodness, and to goodness knowledge, and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love (II Peter 1:5-8).  Embrace a dream that has no place for power politics, greedy self-interest, small-minded bigotry, and unloving tolerance. Have a dream of righteousness, freedom from sin, and the power of love. May America and Americans learn what the color of character truly is. As good and timely as Dr. King's speech was, it is time to stop dreaming and start building---especially Christlike character.

Cos

Butcher Priest

                                                    Butcher Priest


I'm sure the hospital officials thought I was a candidate for the psyche ward. Well, I guess I always am but  gave more visible cause that day. I entered a somewhat catatonic trance by one of those anti-viral\microbial\disinfectant dispensers for visitors to cleanse their hands upon entering and exiting the hospital. I thought how different my duties were from the butcher-priests of 3500 years ago. I had been reading Leviticus and was impressed with the kind of work the priests were called to do to for six different (counting two sin offerings) offerings.

( Insert in your own mind dream sequence music........)

When they become aware of the sin they committed, the assembly must bring a young bull as a sin offering and present it before the Tent of Meeting. The elders of the community are to lay hands on the bull's head before the Lord and the bull shall be slaughtered before the Lord. Then the appointed priest is to take some of the bull's blood into the Tent of Meeting. He shall dip his finger into the blood and sprinkle it before the Lord seven times in front of the curtain. He is to put some of the blood on the horns of the altar that is before the Lord in the Tent of Meeting. The rest of the blood he shall pour out at the base of the altar of burnt offering at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. He shall remove all the fat from it and burn it on the altar and do with the bull as he did for the sin offering (he shall remove all the fat from the bull... the fat that covers the inner parts or is connected to them, both kidneys with the fat near the loins, and the covering of the liver, which he will remove with the kidneys...But the hide of the bull and all its flesh as well as the head and legs, the inner parts and offal, that is, all the rest of the bull he must take outside the camp to a ceremonially clean place where the ashes are thrown, and burn it in a wood fire on the ash heap.

Time and again for each offering was the securing the animal- a bull, a ram, a lamb, a goat, two pigeons, as the offering's demand or the person's ability would allow- the slitting of the throat with respect and precision to cut the right nerves and sever the carotid artery-the catching of the blood in the proper basin (a bull would have over 4 gallons of blood)- the sprinkling and dabbing of blood inside the tent, the pouring of all the blood on the altar outside the tent- the butchering of the proper organs and cuts to burn on the altar, the hauling of the hide and offal (probably an offal smell) outside the camp about one-eighth to one--quarter mile away.  Can you imagine on a ninety degree day on the desert plains of Sinai the workload of hundreds of animals being sacrificed, the smell of blood, dung, and burned cuts of meat? Consider the stickiness of the blood of hundreds of animals on hands and fingers, the blood soaking the toes and getting under every finger and toe-nail and running down to the elbows.  And then someone would come to present a grain offering-grain, mixed with a little oil, offered by priestly hands soaked with blood and fat, waved before the Lord in thanksgiving and that too placed on the fire. No wonder it took an entire tribe with thousands of priests working in shifts to handle the duties. I can imagine one worn down, exhausted Levite after a special day of worship and sacrifice standing almost catatonic with dust, grain, fat, blood, and sweat covering him from head to foot as he tries to pry open sticky, curled with cramping fingers and he thinks to himself:  "This business of sin and it's forgiveness is dirty, exhausting, and costly. It has to be done again tomorrow and next week and next month. It never ends. Is this really what it takes to atone for sin, worship Yahweh, and find His pleasure? Are there enough bulls, goats, and pigeons? Is there enough blood spilled to satisfy His holiness? Is there a better way?

It was at this point I "awoke'' from my trance and rubbed the disinfectant into my hands and thought as I waited for the elevator--sin is still a costly, exhausting, and dirty business. We can rub our hands with a gallon of cleanser and not cleanse the heart of sin. But there is a better way, the way of  The Lamb.......

How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the Living God!  But now he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself.   Hebrews 9: 14, 26

The only thing left for me to butcher is my sermons.

Cos

Catagories:Fan or Follower

Pam and I hosted a home bible study this summer using Kyle Idleman's Not a Fan book and resources.  The group the Lord put together was a great group. They were honest, to tears at times, skeptical when needed, curious, intelligent, open and caring. (Yes, they made me look bad in comparison.) The book's premise is that too much of the 21st century American church is a fan of Jesus but not wholly, committed followers. The question all were to answer for themselves at the end is: Are you a fan or a follower?

Good question.

When you write a book you have an idea you want to communicate, a theme you want to explore, a theory you want to postulate, a mystery you want to solve, a error you want to correct, a joy or story you want to share. When Pastor Idleman wrote his book he obviously wanted to call people to an authentic and deepening relationship with Jesus. He set up his categories of fan or follower. A fan is a spectator, an admirer, someone on the outside looking in but not involved deeply. A follower of Jesus, with Idleman, is committed to learning from, sacrificing for, changing when called to, following and enjoying a close love-relationship with Jesus. He sees too much fluff and not enough substance. Idleman (and Jesus) wants people to be followers, not fans, and in fact, implies fans, as thus defined, may be in danger of not actually knowing Jesus and His salvation.

Okay... but, I have to be honest with myself and you, sometimes fans are a good thing. (Note here, this is my blog and here I get to set and define the categories.) A fan as Idleman defines it is not good. That I understand. But think about fans for a moment. Some of us are fans because of age, interests, abilities, or giftedness. Take basketball for a moment. I played literally thousands of games but only at a certain skill level. I cannot because of height, age, weight, and skill level be anything but a fan of college and pro basketball. Yet, the game itself needs fans. Fans offer encouragement, energy and to some degree finance certain sports. There are some areas in God's kingdom where I can only be a fan. I don't have the giftedness of the Spirit to work there and Jesus doesn't ask me to follow Him there. But I can be a fan of the worker with thirteen and fourteen year olds. I can be a fan\supporter through prayer and finances at church to some missions and missionaries that I am not called to do personally. Yes, I should be committed enough to be willing to go but where I'm not called or gifted then I should be a good fan of those who are.

I also think back to my salvation experience. I committed all I knew at the time to follow Jesus. Looking back, that commitment looks now kind of shallow, selfish even, compared to what I now know about following. I committed as much as I had to as much as I knew. But God's kingdom allows, expects growth, movement to deeper, higher, wider, callings to follow Christ. I suspect that if God grants me another 30 or 40 years that my understanding of things now will look a bit dingy to what I see then. It is grace that makes the following possible as well as the salvation. I must be on guard and be careful not to make being a follower of Jesus a works-oriented, self-effort endeavor.

The question remains whether using Idleman's categories and definitions or my broader set: Are you a fan or a follower? I struggled to answer. I've decided on this one: I am a fallen follower and a fan. I follow Jesus as a stumbling, bumbling, repentant sinner who truly wants to love and serve him. I am a fan of others in His Kingdom who do their best to follow. I can't walk their walk, make their decisions, face their foes, though mine may be similar. But I can encourage, pray, give, pick-up, and praise their efforts. And as God's grace grants the wisdom, courage, energy, time, mercy and love I will move from "fan" to follower in many areas of the Kingdom. For here is a great truth in our Kingdom of reversals: in life the body ages, the mind fogs, the energy wanes but in the Kingdom, the spirit can soar, the heart grow deeper in love, and the vision of Jesus and His kingdom become clearer. A follower learns that the secret is to keep following- no matter what.

How about you? Fan or follower or follower\fan?

Cos

Ain't It Funny How Time Just Slips Away

I head up to the attic. Granddaughter Klaira absolutely adores Mickey Mouse. Pam has a MM stuffed doll from when she was about four. That thing is, well, shall we say, somewhat vintage by now. Pam thought Klaira might want it or at least appreciate it someday. So it's Grandcos' job to hunt for it in the attic.

I haven't found it yet. I will. Maybe when the weather turns cooler. But amid the boxes and deep within one I make a discovery. It made one eye twinkle, one eye cry. Amidst the dust, the insulation, the cardboard I laughed, teared up a little, and gave thanks.  It can't be that long, but there's the date. It is there, in faded black and white with dead people's signatures of the 40th anniversary Sunday.

There's so much done but it seems like so little accomplished. There's so much left to be done but there's neither the time or energy to do it. We thought we'd save the world. Didn't happen. Thank God we already have a Savior. Reminds me of a scripture: "Night cometh, when no man can work." John 9:4b

Oh, and Jesus, thank-you for the call. May You shine through much brighter in the last few. 

Cos

The Shoe

                             The Shoe


  It's a stray shoe. It's not unusual for a two year old to be unreconciled to her shoe. This one was on top of the buffet. The other, somewhere. On the floor? Under a couch cushion? Under the seat of the car? In her bedroom? In the doghouse? It will turn up. My granddaughter doesn't need it, at least most of the time. She toodles around fine in bare feet. I suppose she might need it to walk on dirty public floors or hot sidewalks. But this shoe was for me this day, not Klaira.

   It is empty. The little, lithe, nimble feet are running elsewhere. I snapped the picture. It just grabbed me, so I snapped it. It kind of reminds me of a part of my heart for most of the year. It's a place where blue eyes, a long curl of hair, a crooked smile, and those galloping feet fill for a few days a year. The rest is memory and longing.
   There are many empty things besides little girls shoes in our lives. People face empty nests, empty desks, empty schedules, empty bank accounts, empty beds, empty hearts.  What was full, occupied, busy, enjoyed is alone, finished, idle, empty. Time, distance, school, jobs, dreams, fate, life and death bring people into our lives and out. The times vary. Some are in and out in rapid succession. Some are in and out in slow motion. Some are in, then out, never to be in again.
   It could be rather depressing. And it is for a few moments, but it doesn't last. I'll never see Klaira in these shoes again. By the time I see her again they will be too small. She is growing, moving on, maturing, living and loving. She will need new shoes, bigger shoes. That is right and how it should be. I can't help but think of all those other empty things in life and wonder if maybe they had to become empty because God had bigger dreams and places for hearts and lives growing in His grace to fill. So we feel the emptiness and grieve. We experience the emptiness and long for what was. But we see the empty shoes and also remember that it is God's promise to know His love and be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. We see the empty shoes and long for what can be and will be.
   Empty things He still fills--from shoes to hearts.

Cos
 

Thirty Pieces of Silver

                                      Thirty Pieces of Silver


Coming out of the gigantic grocery store we were loading the haul into the back of the SUV when he approached. Normal looking fellow, about 25 yrs of age I'd guess. My mind jumped ahead...he needs some cash to buy some gas because he was passing through on his way to Florida to bury his dad when he lost his wallet.... he will mail it to me as soon as he gets there... or some such story. The stories are remarkably the same. And I was wrong.

He didn't want anything from me, he wanted to give me something. It was a card. It had a picture of a well endowed young lady named "Monique." At least that was the card said, that's all I could see from the distance between us. It was from a strip club. I never extended my hand as he reached out to me to say that the cover charge at the club was waived with this card. ("Can't he tell I'm a preacher? Can't he see my wife standing there? How desperate is this guy?")When I saw what it was I went back to shoveling groceries into the car and said something  pretty loudly about not needing his card but I'd give him my church card.

He perked up. "Church?" he said brightly and quickly. " I go to Big Door church up in North River. It's great." I knew the church. Ginormous. Grammy and Dove award winning music. The senior pastor has sold hundreds of thousands of books and videos. It has some very good ministries.

"Do they know you're doing this?"

"Well, no, its just for a little quick cash."

"You should talk it over with your pastors there. I don't think they would approve."

(You big dummy, I said to myself. Why did you bring up church? He probably thinks you're a judgemental jerk. I really feel sorry for him. I'm not mad. You may want better for him but you sound like a jackass.)

"It's just for a little quick cash."

"Listen, son (I'm old enough to call people "son" now) Jesus doesn't want you doing that. He's got a better plan for you than that..."

"It's just a little quick cash....''

"Jesus loves you. Trust Him, He's got something better for you."

The young man is moving away from me now. I watch him. I'm sad, I'm upset with myself. As many times as I've read the woman at the well story from John 4, you would think you'd could do a better job with my own encounters. You just proved it again, Cosby, you ain't Jesus. Man, why didn't you think quicker? You should have asked him how much was a 'little quick cash' and offered to pay him that much if he would quit the job and go talk to one of his pastors at Big Door. I've got, what, maybe twenty-five or thirty dollars on me. I wonder if that was enough?

There's the spiritual condition of many in our nation wrapped up and presented in a parking lot:  "I love Jesus. I enjoy this church. But I need a little quick cash." There's no connection between belief and ethics, money or morals, God's will and our needs--and the church people don't know what to say.

Pray for that young man. Pray for this old, slow thinking preacher. Pray for our nation. And please, write better endings to your encounters.

Cos

Turning Out

Things don't always turn out like you had hoped they would. Little things. Big things. Little things,which may not seem small at the moment but they are, turn out wrong. "Darn (or something similar), the meringue didn't turn out! The egg whites must have been too cold."  "Shoot, the divinity didn't turn out! Too humid I guess." Little things....

There are bigger things, much bigger that don't turn out.
    -The marriage. "But they seemed so in love. I wonder what went wrong?" Love is not the best base for marriage. It's a better outcome or by-product. Marriages are better grown in the deep soil of trust planted liberally with the seeds of commitment. But no one told them that and the marriage didn't turn out.
    -The job. "I thought I'd finish my career there but they laid off nearly everyone with twenty or more years. They said age and seniority didn't have any thing to do with it, just the economy. I'm fifty one, what do I do?"            
    -The body "I was going to hike all the major trails in the mountains. Now, I've got to replace both knees. I can do some, but not much. The expenses are worse than I thought too. I guess I'll have to find something else to do." The list goes on, and gets worse... the chemo...the stroke...the grand kids in Timbuktu and you're in Peoria...the bankruptcy... the funeral. Life  rarely turns out like we thought it would.  Who knew?

Maybe we all should have. I was stuck in traffic in Joshua, TX after an accident and looked to the side of the road. There was a home doubling as a business. It was for psychic readings. Madame Somebody. Out into the psychic's yard wanders a man with long, stringy hair wearing a Speedo bathing suit, but most of it was covered by the belly hanging over it. He proceeds to mow the yard in his flip-flops with a beer in one hand and pushing the mower with the other. It was an odd sight at 9 AM. If he were Madame Somebody's husband or boy friend, she should have seen that coming. But she didn't or couldn't. Things don't always turn out like you thought, even if you're a psychic.

Things not turning out is a product of a fallen world where there is evil, wrong, selfishness, and other people who don't always want what we want. We know that, halfway expect it, but we think with hard work, good education, and useful experience our world will turn out. Mostly it does, but not everything and sometimes its the big things that get us. Some people lower their expectations and let luck or laziness, or lousy timing grind them like grist. But I have noticed that a lot of people, when things don't turn out, keep at it. They keep going in some direction hoping the next thing, even if it's a smaller thing will work out better. The guys who loses his job keeps looking for another one. He finds one not in his field, but he works it, learns it, makes a living. The woman whose body betrayed her can't climb the alps, she works hard at climbing the five steps at the rehab center. She makes progress and redefines her life. Plan A didn't turn out, she works on Plan B. It happens with marriages, hobbies, jobs, retirements, churches, bodies, and even meringue. Who knew humans could be so resilient? Who knew they could keep on hoping? Why do they keep trying to bounce back in the dull light of dashed dreams and faded glory? Who knew broken humans could dream again, hope again, live again?

The One Who made them.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:11. "Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6

The owner of the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel  movie would tell his customers "everything will be all right in the end, if it is not all right, it is not the end." That is not always true in life. Things don't always turn out. But it  is true in the Kingdom of God. His word promises it, His character guarantees it. That is hope.

Still turning,
Cos