Driving for Distance

A co-conspirator in enjoying life and laughing as often as possible send me an interesting email. Rob T sent a story about a man who owned the same car for 82 years. He received a graduation present from his dad in 1928 in the form of a Rolls Royce. He drove it until he died in 2010 and it had over a million miles on it. The article said it still ran great.

At this time my mother-in-law is getting ready to sell her last car, a 1995 Accord with about 38,000 miles on it. It still runs well...the car I mean. Well, the 92 year old mom-in-law runs well too but she knows her driving days are over. I applaud the fact that she sees this and has made this decision on her own without showdowns with family or insurance or police. It can't be easy, but she's doing it. Kudos to Nettie.

When my time comes to quit driving I will probably whine, gripe, and be a nuisance to the kids and police officers who followed me home after having hit three cars in the Wal Mart parking lot where I'll be working at age 88. In other words, I'll just be myself as they pry the keys out of my hand. Wait, by then it will be a computer chip in my arm used to start the car... I guess they will deactivate the chip. Oh well... But rather than think about that "end play" I choose to look back a moment to the beginning of my driving--auto driving anyway. I learned to drive a tractor before the pick-up or car, not much before thanks to Pop. My grandfather started letting me drive his Chevy pickup around the pasture and fields at about 11 or 12 years. He even let me drive on the gravel road from one farm back to the house way before I was "legal" to drive.  His Chevy pickup and the red, 1963 Ford Dad had was a three speed on the column. Pop's old pickup even had the starter on the floor as did my other granddad's pickup. Starting, clutching, shifting without grinding and downshifting to slow or enter a field or driveway taught coordination to the kid and patience to the elder. Let's don't even mention the choke knob. You had to be fully engaged to operate the machine. It's no wonder the cell phone wasn't invented until much later, no one had an extra hand to operate anything but the vehicle in the 50's and 60's. I still remember the fear, the thrill, the excitement, the wonder when Pop got in the passenger door of the pickup when we were out in his pasture and said "you drive a while."

I didn't know it then, I couldn't then,  but I crossed a line. A rite of passage was taking place on a cow-rut road in a remote pasture. A part of being a little kid was being left behind and I was moving on. Responsibility, work, dates, fun, expense, repair, travel, adventure and a dozen other things moved onto the near horizon of my life that day. I'd take a '68 Mercury Montclair to college and on my honeymoon. It was the size of small aircraft carrier. I'd buy a new '76 Volvo with college money not spent because of athletic scholarships (and a little help from Dad) and carry my children home from the hospital and take my family to far flung places like Big Spring and Bronte in that puke green machine.

One day soon we won't be driving our cars, they will drive us. And one day soon after that, to the degree that control over your vehicle is still in a human's hand, an official will deactivate my computer chip and I won't be allowed behind the wheel anymore. That is sad. But I take solace and am even thrilled a bit to know that my Heavenly Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills. And in His Kingdom there will always be new cow-rut roads awaiting one of His children coming of age, ready to take on an new adventure. I will fear, thrill, and enjoy the excitement and wonder as time and again in His eternity He speaks to me and says: "you drive a while." And it will be considerably longer than 82 years.

Still chugging,
Cos

When All is Sad and Done

                                            When All is Sad and Done


Some days carry more weight than others. Some days carry more guilt. Some days the weight is the guilt. I have carried some guilt as of late. For a freed Christian and pastoral leader I am suppose to be over all the guilt trips. Much progress has been made on that front but it's not complete yet. I feel guilty about that.

I feel sad on some days as of late. I am sad I can't fix my wife's chronic back problems. I feel guilty that I can't, adding to the sadness. I feel sad that the Middle East is on the brink again, but I am having trouble remembering when they weren't. I feel guilty at times for living in such a nice place with nice people and wonder if it wouldn't be "more Christian" to live in a poor place with meaner, tougher people. Maybe I could have a bigger impact for the Kingdom. See, guilt can lead to fantasy before you know it. And to be honest, except for wanting my wife to feel whole again, the other "guilts" are short, fleeting, wispy moments.

But one has lingered longer lately. It has backtracked into my conscience several times over the past few weeks. It usually comes after the guilt of no peace in the Middle East, the showdown with Syria, the serial rapist news in Dallas, the floods of Colorado, the drought, remembrance of 9-11's horrors, the economy, the marriages and families struggling, and the continuing moral and spiritual decay in the hearts of Americans. These are all bad news items any one of which could spark a round of depression followed by a round of Jack Daniels.  Yes, they cause a pause, a pain, a sorrow, and even a little guilt because I can't fix them but the real guilt shows up shortly after thoughts and prayers about these and other signs of brokenness in life show up.

It is, for lack of a better term, the guilt of joy.

Yes, joy. A settled disposition of the heart that senses, knows, believes that the best is yet to come and is in fact guaranteed by Jesus but is yet to come in completion. Joy takes on a real but temporal expression because of its future fulfillment. You see, that joy thing is the reason that ten minutes, half an hour, half a day after the meanness of this world has shaken out my heart again like a dirty rug,  I smile, I laugh, I find sheer joy in a person, a quirk, a miss-step, a misquote, a juxtaposition or an outrageous spotting of grace and life and love.  The smile of two year old grand-daughter sends waves of rapture through the heart. It is fleeting but real. The tales the grandson tells at five make me so alive I can't wait to see what he says at six. The exquisite delight of people laughing, telling a joke, enjoying a meal, sharing an embrace or a cup of coffee is more alive to me than the pain and the horrors abounding. Am I deluding myself? Maybe. I am ignoring the facts? Possibly. Am I whistling past the graveyard? Why not? What do you do as you walk past the graveyard? Or maybe the fact that in the eternal, spiritual terms of the kingdom of God I know I am going PAST the graveyard helps me whistle. There is something beyond the graveyard, beyond the wars, past the pains of life that both breaks in on us as more real than these and at the same time pulls us on to its ultimate reality. I believe that is JOY. The joy of the presence of Christ in the heart, in the church, and in the world.

To C S Lewis, joy was the stab of longing that unexpectedly wells up in us during unguarded moments of contemplation.  It was a desire, never a possession, a longing, often unexpected, and a reminding of what was yet to be. In the Weight of Glory C S Lewis wrote that the yearning he experienced during those moments, convinced him there was another existence beyond this world. "For they are not the thing itself, they are only the scent of a love we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never visited."

Yes, but that perfumed lover, that artistic musician, that herald of good news has visited us from that other country. And the lover's song and His good news announces Joy. It is the flag of the King flying over the castle that signifies even in bad weather, bad economies, and war that the King is on His throne.  So when all is sad and done, then what remains is joy. It makes me feel guilty some days. It's a guilt I can live with.

Cos

Of Glue and Grease (mice and men was taken)

We all have a theology whether known or not. It is there. We all live our theology whether good or bad. A theology being the study of the nature of God as revealed, discovered, understood. For some it is a systematic, disciplined, grounded study based on scripture, history, logic, and hermeneutic principles of interpretation and discernment. For others, their theology is derived from the Three-O's: Opinion, Oprah, and Osmosis.  So everyone believes something about the nature of God, whether immanent or transcendent, close or distant, engaged with humanity or indifferent.  And we all act on what we believe. If I believe God doesn't exist, I act as though He doesn't. If I believe He does and cares about what I think and do, then this, too, affects what I think and do.

Bad theology can kill you. You're not sure about that. Your theology doesn't have God that close to care about daily, living things. Your theology isn't sure God is that judgmental. Your theology has God meeting "spiritual" needs. He is a God of Sunday, not business. He is a God of niceness, not politics. He has a hell for Hitlers and serial killers and child molesters, not little white lie people, not minor tax cheats, and not people who had rather play golf than go to church, not people who spend more gaming than giving.  You like the God of grace and mercy and love. You are put off by some people's God of judgement and discipline. Never mind that the Bible puts love and discipline together. Never mind that the Bible recognizes evil whether big or small, in me or in dictators, and will judge that evil. You like a God who saves, but the One who calls to holiness, the One who wields justice, well, let's just wait and see about that One.

Bad theology can kill you. If you are not sure just check out America. Do you even recognize it's lack of morality? Can you believe what entertainers "get away with?" Can you believe what ballplayers of professional games make? Did you realize that 35% of internet use is porn? Why are 30 million Americans on antidepressants, many because of fear?  Did you notice the churches in an uproar over the pain of drug abuse, the scandal of sex slavery in our country, the pain of half of marriages ending in divorce, the struggle of young people looking for work, joy, purpose and trying to find it in bottles, violence, pills, and suicides? Why the silence? If not outcries why not tears? This is based on bad theology. America's theology didn't allow for God to create humanity, to create in humans a life of joy, freedom from guilt and sin. Their theology didn't see much of anything as sin. Our national theology hasn't seen God as caring enough to be involved with them to love and discipline them and lead them in a righteous path. And we are reaping what we have sown and hasn't yet even broken our hearts.

I found it interesting how our bad theology played out in the recent New Mexico supreme court case of some professional photographers, the Huguenins, who decline to photograph a same sex marriage because of their Christian views. They were sued. They lost in New Mexico's highest court. Said Justice Richard Bosson's in his majority opinion, " In the smaller, more focused world of the marketplace, of commerce, of public accommodation, the Huguenins have to channel their conduct, not their beliefs, so as to leave space for the other Americans who believe something different. That compromise is part of the glue that holds us together as a nation; the tolerance that lubricates the varied moving parts of us as a people...it is the price of citizenship."

The theology of the New Mexico supreme court says God and your beliefs about Him have no place in business decisions. The marketplace, commerce sets the rules not God or your beliefs about God. Christians are merely glue and lubricants, to use his terms, to hold the machinery of the marketplace together and grease the cogs of commerce. Why were those who held certain beliefs reduced to glue and grease? Why could not the gays be asked to accommodate the religious values of the Huguenins and simply find photographers who would shoot their wedding? (It's New Mexico, there would be many) No, their theology  subservient to politics, popular opinion, and relativistic morality held no place for the Huguenins. This is bad theology. It will kill America.

God of heaven and earth, who knows, loves, and judges, forgive us and help us. May we as individuals and as a nation come to realize that Christ is before all things and in Him all things hold together. May Your church be not silent but speak the truth in love of His grace, mercy and justice.  And if it be that we Christians must be squeezed out in our culture and out of our culture, may our dying breaths and last drops of blood point to the very words and blood of Jesus  who still calls mankind to righteousness found only in Him. 

Cos

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