Lent and the Man Who Gave Up Anger

The front story is found in Mark 5:1-20. Let us take a look at the back....

There once was a man, at least what was left of one, who lived in the Hill country. The ridges and falls of the landscape along with the background of Lake Galilee left a pleasant impression on the mind. For most Jews it was a region better enjoyed from a distance. The area was more Greek than Jewish, and this from Alexander's conquering times. They even raised pigs there.

There was a time that even the pigs weren't the largest problem. Hunted, haunted, unwanted people fled there. People on the edge, close to going over were there. So when Jesus instructed the disciples to make port in the Gerasenes eyebrows were raised. It was one thing to  dock there and sell fish to the merchants and common people but they were no longer selling fish and if Jesus were courting votes for messiah-ship, this was not a district worth canvasing. But when a man speaks to a sea churning thunderstorm and tells it "peace, be still," and it goes away, then if he says "Gerasenes," you go.

It didn't take long for the fireworks to begin. Jesus was hardly out of the boat when he showed up. Fierce,  angry, and tormented. A torn man falls at Jesus' feet. He could have snapped Jesus in two. He had the strength, maybe even a reason, but he had no authority, no permission. He cried out asking Jesus not to torture him. He knew torture. People who tried to help--platitudes, judgement, folk medicine and rehabs, Yeah, he knew torture.Others had tried to control him, help him, keep him in different chains for safety's sake, theirs if not his. Nothing worked. But the worst tortures were the self-inflicted ones. Tortured memories of people he loved, hurt; relationships in burned-out heaps; thoughts of what could have been, should have been. But his demons always found a way to win.  Many marveled at his strength, how he could break irons and chains. Many conveniently forget that there is a strength of cunning, manipulation, and deceit that can break bonds. It was easier to say it was physical strength that broke the bonds when the love and care shown were of insufficient quality and quantity to contain the pain. So he fought, he cried, he ran, in fear he scared off anyone and everyone who might get too close. It was better for them. It was hell for him, but a better hell than facing more pain, whether caused or endured.

But here stood Jesus. There is no fear, no pain, no turning away in this Jesus. No judgement except those evils needing judgement. And no escape for Legion, he will not manipulate, scream, fight his way out of this one. "What is your name?"  It was more of a command than a question. He knows already. He knows the heart. He knows there is a place that only God can touch. He knows that out of the spirit of man come Legions of problems only God can heal. No, the demons don't want healing, but the man does. In that place that only Jesus can see, and know, and touch,  in that deep place of longing and hope, there every man wants healing, peace, God.

So the demons had to go. The unnamed demons had no choice but to leave the now claimed human. Jesus never announced the names of the demons, lest someone think theirs wasn't included. It is.

People in town and through the years speculated about those poor pigs. The townspeople didn't like it, that was income, food and a convenient excuse taken away when things didn't go right. No longer can they blame the Nut case. Go away, Jesus. People speculated the demons' name, Legion, spoke of Rome's occupation and the fact that a boar's head adorned the shields of Roman soldiers in  Israel. Was this a prophecy of what would happen to Rome? Country preachers speculated that maybe a pig will not tolerate what a man will, so when the demons entered them, they decided they would exit life. A case of "suey-cide" they say. Maybe the real marvel is the wonderment over the seeming injustice done to pigs and forgetting the heavenly amazement that a tortured being is human again. Here is a picture of a man changed: anger-gone; fear-gone; manipulations-gone; doubts-gone; hell-on-earth-gone because Jesus came to him.

A man gives up anger  and its many demons and takes up evangelism at the urging of Jesus. "Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he had mercy on you." So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.  Mark 8:19-20

The chains are gone, we've been set free,
Cos

Lent and the Woman Who Gave Up Guilt

Second in a series of Lenten devotions. Giving up something is associated with Lent, but taking up something may be the greater lesson and joy.

Step into John 8.........

Every emotion seemed to pulse through her veins. Her eyes would grow wide with fear and narrow with anger. Her eyes would well up with tears at the hopelessness of the situation and deaden seeing no sights as she welcomed the relief from this embarrassment that death would bring. And she knew she would die. She was guilty. She was caught. But she had been guilty before, many times. But she sensed this time was not really about her guilt. That truth didn't help much. She would soon be condemned and stoned. Her resigned heart felt the weight of sadness unto death. Her indignation at being only one of two adulterers dragged half naked from bed so early in the morning,  pushed through the streets and thrown down at the feet of this rabbi rose up in her and made her want to spit. But her mouth was dry.

She half heard the accusations--adultery--half heard the law half recited--stone such women--but she listened intently for the expected sentence from the holy man. She had heard his name before, what was it, o yeah, Jesus-some kind of holy man, some even said Messiah. Yeah right. These priests didn't like him-saw him as a threat. Maybe if he says "death by stoning" they will show mercy to make him look bad to the people, mean, unmerciful, if that is what all this is about. If they agree and stone her, at least the circus is over, the pain of guilt she had long felt would go away. Maybe he would say to have mercy and forgive and then they would accuse him of disobeying the law-unfit for a rabbi holy man. Either way she was just a forgotten, worthless pawn in their politics and religion. Either way they would get to him, and they both would pay the price. But life is cheap and she had felt its cheapness a long time and she had made bad choices for that same long time. She was out of choices now.

He just draws on the ground. Why won't he answer? They keep prodding, he says nothing, just draws. Say something, man, and get this over with!  Finally he speaks, "Let him who has no sin cast the first stone."

Silence. For several uncomfortable moments, silence. In the silence the truth sank in, it deeply sank in. The "thud" of a stone being dropped to the ground finally broke the silence as an old man slowly trudged off. Then another, and another, and another. And then just two remained. "Woman, where are they? His voice was light, airy, almost funny as if a magician had made a rabbit disappear. "Has no one condemned you?" "No one, sir," but in her heart she knew one had condemned her, herself. She had lived with guilt and self-condemnation all her life. She had looked for men and their approval or desire to cure her of this self-loathing and only felt used and further condemned. Her laughter had been large but she felt her heart shrink in condemnation and grow harder with each new lover. "Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and leave your life of sin."

Silence. For several uncomfortable moments, silence. In the silence, the truth sank in, it deeply sank in. The "thud" of a stony heart being dropped and replaced with a new one, a forgiven one, finally broke the silence. Leave a life of sin? The possibility never occurred to her, but with the condemnation of sin removed, the power to do so now became a reality. He who truly had the power to condemn, chose mercy. For the first time in a long time, no, maybe ever, she felt it--love.

That day the woman caught in adultery became the woman who gave up guilt. In giving up condemnation, she began to take up freedom. In mercy she finally found love, God's love. It was what she needed all the time.

How about you? Ready to give up guilt for grace? Condemnation for freedom? Self-loathing for God's love?
"Neither do I condemn you."  Jesus

Romans 8:1
Cos

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.