Valentines VS Lent and the Man Who Gave Up Greed

The calendar has played a trick on us this year. It places Lent on the day before Valentines. This could be a problem for some people because chocolate always ranks very high on the "what people give up for Lent" list. In fact, last year's annual Twitter list has it at number 2. (Ironically or sarcastically Twitter itself was number 1.) If your sweetheart loves chocolate for Valentine's day but vows to give it up for Lent... what to do, what to do? Let ole Cos help.

With all the ecclesiastical authority I have in my position, I declare that you do not have to give up chocolate for lent! There are two caveats to my pronouncement. One is unless you really want to and the second is if chocolate is standing in the way of your relationship with Jesus. In truth, I would say this about anything you chose to "give up" for lent. With that in mind I invite you to join with me for the next six or seven weeks for a weekly devotion during Lent leading up to Easter.We will take a glance at men and women from the Bible who gave up something, obviously not for Lent as that didn't fully develop until the eighth century, although as early as the third century, preparations were observed to prepare for baptism and to grasp more fully the meaning of Easter by the early church. And if we are very honest, we will see that the focus of these men and women was not the "giving up" of something so much as the "taking up" of new life and the liberties in living it. Done right, Lent then becomes so much more about the "taking up" than the "giving up." Take a look from Luke 19...

Zack was short. Period. In a world that honors, elects, promotes, and prizes height, Zack got the short end of the stick. He made up for it by hard work, ruthless ambition, and amazing shrewdness. O yeah, he ruined nearly every human relationship he had ever had. But he was rich beyond imagination. He was also powerful in his industry, which happened to be corporate law specializing in take-overs. What Zack lacked in height, he made up for in arrogance. At 44, he was also miserable, he just didn't fully know it.

He decided to go a shopping mall. He hadn't been to a shopping mall in what, ten years? But, his partnership was thinking about buying it, so he hopped on his Learjet and flew to southern California to check it out. This was a task someone about 150 executives below him usually did but he thought he'd do this one himself. Besides, he had seen on Facebook that Jesus was going to be there. He'd heard about this Jesus. He had read about the sermons and seen the videos on Youtube. Compassion, healings, wisdom that rocked Hollywood and Washington, pretty amazing stuff. For some reason Zack was drawn or being drawn to this Jesus and besides, prime real estate in southern California ain't bad either. So off he flew.

The mall was insanely crowded. Good location but no location seemed to work to see Jesus. He went upstairs to the food court and got a coffee at Starbucks. He was used to better. He saw a spot by the escalator and wedged his Brioni suit in the crack and leaned over the railing. He saw Jesus coming. He was moving from the Dillards end toward the Sears at the other end. He was laughing, touching, being touched, engaging in conversations. He didn't understand but he began to cry. In a few moments Jesus would be gone past his perch by the escalator and that fact left him sad. He had no clue why. Just then Jesus stopped, looked up, and called out: "Zack, Zack!" He looked right into the eyes of Zack, no He looked into his heart and said, "Zack,  come down here, I need to go to lunch with you today." Zack ran down the up escalator as fast as his size seven and one-half Burlutis would let him. Jesus welcomed him with open arms. Choking back the tears, Zack said "Lord, I'm giving half my fortune away and will pay back everyone I cut and cheated with interest." They went to lunch. Zack bought. He never felt taller.

So Zack gave up greed and took up reconciliation. Could this happen by just seeing Jesus? If you ever met Him, you wouldn't have to ask. During this Lenten season, is there anything standing in your way of being reconciled to your God or your fellow man? Let it go, let it go and watch your spirit grow taller by the minute.

Lord, Grant that we may give up anything that keeps us from knowing You and serving You. May this and all seasons not be about what we give up but what we take up in response to Your Love.

Cos  

Where's That?

                                                 Where's That?


I've spent a lot of my life explaining where I was from or even where I was. People hadn't heard, didn't know. It wasn't their fault. They weren't ignorant or not well traveled. They just came from different regions, larger places or traveled too fast to notice the smaller environs of my dwelling places. I heard, "where's that?" a lot, often with an aire of disdain if not disbelief.

I grew up on a farm about three miles south of Milford, TX*. "Where's that?" you ask. Here we go again. It happened when I went to college at Howard Payne University. "Where's that?" It's a small liberal arts college in Brownwood. I pastored in Bronte. "Where's that?" It's between Abilene and San Angelo. "Shouldn't that be pronounced 'Bron-te`, like Emily or Charlotte? Yeah, tell that to the folks in west Texas who call it Bront with no `e on the end.  And so it went. In a place everyone in Texas knew, Bryan, I pastored West Oaks Baptist Church. "Where's that?" You could tell them you worshipped in an aerobic center and then a former barbeque restaurant. People just looked at you funny. Everyone in the panhandle knew Hereford when I lived there. If we came back to the DFW area or went to a pastor's conference  and people asked where I was pastoring these days it would happen again. ''Where's Hereford?" It's 45 miles sw of Amarillo and then came the blank look. If they hadn't actually been there or through there, it didn't exist. Trust me, if you ever got close, your nose would know it existed.

Now I live outside of Whitney, TX.in a community called White Bluff. "Where's that?" Same song, about the seventh verse for me. I am a lot more comfortable with the explanations now. Part of it is aging with grace. Yeah, right. Part of it is not only the grace of aging but the grace of understanding that no one truly knows where any one else is from or what they have been through. We might know the town but not the traffic that town had on some one's heart. We might recognize a street but do we ever know how another person experienced that street?. Most probably it was mixtures of joy and sadness, affirmation and abuse, grief and elation, life and death. Those experiences are everywhere, city or country, big or little.

I've also discovered in my travels that God never has to ask "where's that?" He knows. He knows where I am, my rising up and my sitting down; when I go out and my lying down. He just knows. One of the saddest scriptures is in Genesis 3: 9. After Adam and Eve had sinned they turned the local fruit stand into the first clothing store and hid themselves. God came walking through the garden in the cool of the evening to visit with them. They are no where to be seen. Strange... so God asks a strange question. In English it is "Where are you?'' In the Hebrew, it is one word and the "are you" is implied but the single word is simply 'where.'  O, to be sure, God knows where they are.  He is calling for transparency. He is seeking confession. I believe I can almost hear His broken heart calling out "why?"

But what we get is one word: ''where?''

Has God ever called out to you "where?" When I found myself in fear instead of trust did I hear Him say 'where?' When I resided on the corner of pride and stubbornness, did I hear 'where?' When I longed to move to anger, vengeance did I hear a whispered 'where' on the Wind? I've put my heart in a lot of places that He could walk by and cry 'where?'

But He always knew. In Milford He knew where I was and where He would send me. At Howard Payne, He knew what bench I prayed on in the cool of the (late) evening. In tiny churches in big towns or bigger churches in small towns, I never had to explain. He knew. He knew where I was. It was a promise He made and kept: "I'll never leave you nor forsake you." (Heb.13:5)

The promise is still good today. He knows where you are. He just knows.

Found,
Cos

*between Mountain Springs and Forreston

The Tall People

                                                   The Tall People


You look around and wonder, are there any tall people any more?

Oh, not the height measured by feet and inches but a different kind of stature. The world seems to be filled with pancake people, flatlanders, dirt-eaters. It wasn't always so. There was time, at least there was a moment, when tall people were noticed. When, in comparison to the masses lying prostrate the tall ones literally stood out in their standing up. How was it so then and where are they now?

There was a day when the world was flat, long before Columbus proved it wasn't, at least in terrestrial terms.  But flat it was in ancient Babylon's day and suspicions remain that it still is. It was flat because the King of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, said it was to be flat. His image of gold set high before the people, the army band assembled, and when they struck up the national anthem, rather than rise and sing, all citizens were to fall flat and worship. And all did, but three tall men.

They knew the world was not flat, at least not the world beyond Nebuchadnezzar's grip. That kind of flatness belonged to Another and to any other they stood tall. The pancake people at their feet spoke from the dirt, where else can flat people speak from, and angrily called to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to get down and grovel. "Come on man, get down here with the rest of us. You got to go along to get along. You might get us all in trouble and we've had enough trouble since this King took us out of Judah. You don't have to worship the old tyrant in your heart. Just get down here with everyone else and get it over with. Besides, is this moment of bravery worth the consequences? Live to serve your Lord many days and serve this earthly lord just one."

But the tall people wouldn't listen to the pancake people, for they knew that the day they had to worship and serve the Most High God was this day, and this day only. So they took their stand and uttered their statement of faith that their God could rescue if He so chose, "but if not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." Their fate was set as their bodies were bound yet God had a different agenda than the nation's ruler. For Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego the Most High God had intentioned flame and fortune. But make no mistake, the victory was secured not with emergence from their furnaced apartment but when they were tall in a flat world.

The spirit of Nebuchadnezzar still calls to people inclined to flatness in our days. The images erected are not as blatant but the call is the same. "Worship me-- worship success rather than thank-God for it; worship the sport rather than enjoy the game; worship the material riches rather than use them for other's good; worship power and politics rather than see them as avenues for justice to flow; worship the self and taste the hopelessness of empty promises and breathe deeply the aroma of immorality so close to nostrils pressed in to it." This spirit of Nebuchadnezzar allows for in-between men today, not too flat, but never tall. Men "too decent to enjoy sin in its ugly rawness yet not dedicated enough to enjoy the feast of the fullness of life."*

The world bows down in flatness to all that is deemed great. But there were tall men in ancient Babylon, at least a few.  You look around and wonder, are there tall people today?

Help me to stand,
Cos

*Quote from Clovis Chappell, Methodist pastor early to mid 20th century who inspired this article

Living Backwards

Do you ever read the stories about Jesus and wonder how he became such a successful savior? It looked like he started okay with the birth, angels, and wise men. True, Bethlehem, a feed trough bassinet and the shepherds were a bit of a stretch but everybody loves a rags-to-riches, underdog-makes-good, log cabin to White House story. That story from Luke 2 about him impressing the Jewish rabbis at the Temple when he was twelve was good, too. Then it kinda gets awkward.

To be honest, it goes downhill after that. He isn't heard of again until he is about 30 years old. By then he is simply a tradesman and he quits that. He calls a bunch of fishermen, a tax collector, a terrorist (the Zealot), and a few relatives and in-laws of these characters and they go out to save the world. Good luck with that.

Turns out he didn't need luck. He was good. Jesus preached really well. He healed like only God can. He fed more people on less than McDonald's at lunch hour. He was smarter and quicker that the lawyers and preachers of his day. He could have been king. But he kept saying these backward, awkward, counter-cultural, this-ain't-your-granddaddy's-messiah kind of things. It was like he had no intentions of being king or even the messiah, at least not the way most folks defined messiah.

He tells a rich, young ruler in Luke 18 to sell all he has and follow him. Everything? Can't we negotiate that price? Maybe two more per cent?  It's hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Ouch. Jesus kept doing other backward things. He tells people that the first shall be last and the last first. Unless you get next year's top draft pick from being last this year that doesn't work very well. He teaches that if you want to gain your life you must lose it. He tells his disciples that the greatest in his Kingdom must be the least, like children. He tells everybody that if they truly want to live they have to die... to self, sin, Satan, the world...gosh what's left?

Last to be first? Lose to gain? Least is greatest? You gotta die to really live? Did Jesus really teach that? Does any one really believe it?

It's backward living. It goes against everything big time sports, business, banking, marketing, Hollywood, Washington, Las Vegas and lots of performance based churches tell the world is the way to make it. It's no wonder they crucified him.

By the way world, how are your methods working out?


Cos

The Hard Side of Christmas

                                                The Hard Side of Christmas


By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept....on the poplar trees we hung our harps... our captors asked us for songs, our tormentors demanded songs of joy...How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?    Psalm 137

We all entered that foreign land when we tried to worship the Sunday after the Newtown killing of the innocents. I personally made it through the the first song but when we started to sing "Joy to the World" I lost it. How could I sing 'Joy to the World' when the world is in such a state of lostness, anger, and sinfulness that innocent little kids become its victims? So we prayed, we cried, we tried to sing, and wondered 'why.' This Christmas season has a hard side.

They all have. From the moment of the announcment of Mary's pregancy hard things show up. Fear, confusion, thoughts of divorce, scandal, wearying trips, no room, rough wood mangers, run-for-your-life escapes to Egypt, Bethlehem's own slaughter of the innocents. We have painted our Christmases with sweetness and light, mirth and merriment, joy and love. Do not lose in the hard side of Christmas these truths. But the truth is, it was on account of the hard things, the sinfulful, the lost, the rebellious things that God sent forth his son. He came to save us because we needed saving.

Not everyone has gotten the message.

The nation is now in a dialogue about how to fix us. Gun control? Better more accessible help for the mentally ill? Let teachers carry guns in school? Ban violent video games? Might I suggest that although these discussions need to take place they won't fix us. How many children have to die, how many Aurora's have to take place, how many Amish killings, how many 9-11's, before we realize the problems run deeper than policies and programs? Our problems at their root are spiritual. We need forgiving, we need cleansing from sin, we need the power of grace, we need the purpose God has for our lives, we need a relationship with the God who created us. We need salvation and all the hope, peace, joy, love, justice, and promise of heaven that it brings. And the good news is we have a Savior.

But the angel said to them, "do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the otwn of David, a savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord..." Luke 2:10-11

Keep spreading the word and living its truths.

Merry Christmas.

Growing Christmas (part II)

                                                       Hard Side of Christmas (Part 2)


The Sckillet put the steaming cup to his lips. It took in the aroma and put the frothy cappuccino to its newly acquired lips. "These human pests have no idea how good they have it," it thought. The master had allowed him one day a year to investigate his strategy for growing Christmas beyond and away from its true meaning. On this one day a year during the Christmas season it was given the ability to take on human form and walk the earth. The master used this strategy often but usually it meant sending a demon masquerading as an angel of light. The Sckillet was no angel and there was nothing "light" about it. It enjoyed the day, as much as any Hell-trapped, paranoid, devious, lonely, lost, and tortured thing could, at least. It had come onto earth through the centuries to many places. Always looking to improve on ways to blind humans to Christmas or just admiring its handiwork. Today, in the twenty-first century since the master had given it power to mislead and move Christmas away from the Enemy, it was a day to admire and allow itself a little pleasure that the master never would. So this morning it was in the USA, a place called Southlake Town Center at the Starbucks on the corner of the main street of the shopping center. Tonight it was a short flight via mental transport to Bob's Chop House in Dallas. It was enjoying the cappuccino but really looked forward to the single malt scotch and the two-inch fillet tonight. Watching the coffee drinkers, the cars, the shopping, the constant moving and hearing the laughter, the thought "what a waste all this is on humans," kept oozing through its mind. But it thought that overall, the plan worked grandly.

At that moment it felt a sensation it didn't understand at first. Human bodies had functions and feelings that were often wonderful but also bothersome to the demon. It had not felt this sensation before. It caused the hair on the back of its neck to bristle. Little chill bumps formed on its arms and face. It didn't like the feeling, it liked less the voice it heard next. "Enjoying your vacation, Mr Sckillet?" whispered the voice. It was the master's. He, too, took on a human disguise. "Er, no master, er, just, ah, trying to blend in and observe." "Humph, no doubt, Mr. Sckillet. No doubt. So tell me Mr. Sckillet, what is your assessment of your endeavors these 21 centuries?"

"Master, I am pleased to present for your viewing some of our greatest triumph's here in the Western, 'civilized' world. The earthlings here spend with no thoughts of the Enemy. They shop, move, sing, hustle, bustle to please each other and give little thought to the Disaster or the Incarnation. Oh, to be sure, some still make the effort at their assemblies called 'church' but they are too tired or too caught up in their traditions to put much thought into their implications. The silly humans have even helped us with their inventions: television, computers, cyber Monday and don't you just love 'black Friday. It's a great counter to the Enemy's 'Good Friday.' Don't you agree?"

"Thank-you, Mr Sckillet, for that fine and self-serving evaluation." The master's sarcasm was obvious as was his displeasure. "Much of what you say is true but you have pushed too hard. The society has moved so far from the meaning of the Incarnation and felt such little peace and joy at all the gifts, baubles, bangles, and busyness of this season that the ones who hold its truth, sing of its joy, and tell of its wonder are beginning to grow more conspicuous by their difference. What you have succeeded in doing is showing the difference in true faith that many have and the lack of it in others.You have grown Christmas alright, you have grown to the point many are now looking for its truth! Explain your way out of this, Mr. Sckillet!"

"Master, we have always been trying to overcome the effects of the Disaster. The Enemy has powers, real powers. He changes hearts. He forgives their sin. We are not omniscient or omnipotent. The Enemy is. He elicits from them worship, love, and service. Even you couldn't see everything He was doing with His Incarnation. We have always been fighting a losing battle.  We only try to wreak as much misery as demonly possible. Our dungeons are filling. Since the Disaster we've known our days were numbered..."

The little impish demon had gone too far and it knew it.
"It's ironic you mention days being numbered,'' the master growled lowly. With that, the hair on the back of its neck stood up again and the chill bumps returned. In an instance, it was gone.

Later that afternoon, the master burped up the Sckillet's cell phone. It rang. The master answered it. "Yesss..."
"Hello, this is the maitre d' at Bob's in Dallas calling to confirm your reservation for at eight tonight."
"Sadly, Mr. Sckillet won't make his reservation tonight.....no, no, I won't take it either. I've already eaten.....
no, no Mr. Sckillet isn't sick. Let's just say Mr. Sckillet has moved from the frying pan into the fire."

Cos

Growing Christmas

                                                     Growing Christmas


It had been twelve years since The Disaster. No one in the organization was allowed to refer to it, especially by its real name. But it couldn't be ignored. It happened. It was real. It was The Disaster, so when it needed to be referenced, that was how it was done. The Disaster, period.

Now twelve years later, the effects of it where being felt throughout the organization in a horribly fast acceleration of losses. A special council was called by the Master. Only the top twelve heads of the organization's family would attend. They were known by many names, mostly beginning with the letter "d" to alliterate with the word "dozen." They had no official name, they were just referred to as "the twelve."

They arrived at the meeting to find their places at a perfectly square table with three associates to each side. The master was seen almost magically in front of each group as one side looked above the heads of the side opposite them. Except for the light illuminating from the master's head, and an eerie glow from the participant's eyes, the meeting room was dark. The master hissed his concerns.....

"We have a problem. The Enemy's followers have started to celebrate his becoming flesh. The Disaster was bad enough but now this. Their theologians have started to use the word "incarnation." Their common idiots simply refer to his birth. They are praying, reflecting, and building worship times dedicated to it. Our intel believes with good authority that a whole season will develop around its meaning and will take the name "Christmas."  It must be stopped. This council is called to formulate a plan for the destruction of this "Christmas" horror lest the problems of The Disaster are compounded. Give me your ideas."

The side with the demons of Conquest, Imitation, and False Religion spoke first. "We will use our cloak of deception to eliminate Christmas. We will conquer lands with our deceptions and use false hope in powerful men, politics, and religion to keep their minds blinded."

"That is a good plan," The Master spoke.  "But it is not enough. The Enemy's ways can work around those defenses. Their must be more!"

"Our side has a plan," spoke Power. Power, War, and Vainglory stood up. " Our plan will keep them fighting, killing, and spending their resources to do more fighting and killing. We can even get them to fight in the Enemies name, making them believe that their God is demanding they fight. Their egos will become so large that if they think it, they will think their God put it in their minds. They will always be at war, planning war, training for war, spending for war, recovering from war, seeking the spoils of war and seeking more power to wage war better. They will become either too busy or too bitter to see or believe the Incarnation's true meaning. In time they will worship the power their government has and confuse it with true worship of the Enemy.

"Another  good plan." But we need more...."

"We have more." Into the conversation the side of Famine, Fear, and Despair now entered. "We will use the little pests fears against them. We will build on Conquest and War. We will add famine, fear, and finally hopeless despair. When they are hungry, when they are fearful of not getting food or their way, or their money, they will give up hope and be ripe for the picking. Our Enemy can promise them eternal glory but when their stomach or their egos growl with emptiness they will think His promise is empty. Their "Christmas" will be the last thing on their minds."

"Well done. But I fear these efforts are not sufficient. Our Enemy is not without powers. He meets needs. He heals diseases in His way and time.  He helps them find purpose in their pain. He walks with them in their trials. He opens heaven to them. These notions are good but inadequate..."

"But there is more." A squeaky, effeminate voice was barely heard. "Speak up, you little twerp and remind me why I even put you on this council," boomed the raspy hiss of the master." "Yes, master. Hear my plan." The voice was from a quiet, cunning, manipulative, greedy, grotesque little demon. It was a Sckillet. It was actually above a Power or even a Principality but its work was so secretive that even the other demons didn't know what it was doing. They hated him. Even the master hated him. Of course, he hated everyone and everything. But the Sckillet he especially hated. He believed, rightly so, that the Sckillet would take his throne if possible. But the master also needed it. As horrible as it was, it was very good at evil.

At that point the Sckillet placed a bright red bag on the table. He untied the end and brought out it contents. There was a box, brightly wrapped in colored paper with a bow on top. There was a replica of a little man in  a red suit and white beard. There was a model of buildings, all tied or grown together with pretty paintings and interesting names above their doors. There was a string that contained little glass bulb-light appendages that glowed and blinked. "What in Hell's name are all these trinkets?" roared the master. "These are how we defuse the enemy's little earthlings of the true meaning of His coming to be with them and, and, well, you know The Disaster. We actually let Christmas grow."

"What??? Screamed the eleven. "We must Conquer it, Starve it, Kill it!"

"And we shall by letting it grow from what it is into what it is not. As the enemy transforms their lives, we will quietly be transforming the things that point to that truth in the Incarnation and the Disaster. We will own Christmas by making it about magic not truth. It will be about shopping not serving. It will focus on twinkling lights, when they are invented, instead of the light of the world. We will take good things for the earthlings, like the invention of lights, and use them to confuse them. We will take gifts given to the Enemy by the Wise Men and use their greed to pervert the gesture to giving each other gifts. We will take the story of a jolly saint and use the wonder and imagination of kids urged on by their parents to set their hearts on one called Santa Claus and build a wonder, magical world where they are focus as he brings them gifts. Ha, ha, ha, they will spend so much time, money, energy, and effort on Christmas that their Christ will be lost in it. And then, in one day, it will be over. The greatness of the plan is it is based on fantasy, not reality. It sees the now, and loses the eternal."

The master smiled. "How long will it take?"

"Give me twenty, twenty-one centuries tops. We will own Christmas!" the Sckillet snarled.

And for the only time recorded, Hell filled with laughter.

Cos
(getting it back next week)