Taking Charge of Jesus

                                                      Taking Charge of Jesus


Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified. So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. 
(John 19: 16)

 He has a thought and births a universe. He speaks a word and a world is formed. By his own hand he stretches out the heavens and marshals the starry hosts. He measures the waters of the earth in the palm of his hand.  The prophet Isaiah declares a mighty God reigns in heaven. We like him there.

Yet when he takes on flesh, we esteem him not. Coming into his own whom he has gathered in his arms and gently led, he was rejected,  he was unrecognized. Down here, we're in charge.

So hands pull his head and shoulders from his mother's body. Human hands wipe him down and place his weak bobble head on his mother's breast. From the beginning he is handled, swaddled, cleaned, changed, fed, wiped, carried, placed, rocked--he is handed over and handled over. At least for a while the hands are kindly.

He is handed over to the care of his mother. He is handed over to Joseph's apprenticeship. His hands work wood, the wood works over his hands.  People place orders, he fills them. People bring broken things, he fixes them. People treat him as a tradesman. He is. Some are respectful, polite. Some are demanding, demeaning. He is handled like a servant. He is.

One day it all begins to change. He leaves home.  He is handed over to be tempted. But he is in charge now (was there ever a time he wasn't?). He preaches; he walks; he calls; he heals; he corrects; he comforts; he confronts; he points, he prays, he weeps and he keeps walking toward a distant hill. It grows closer. Yet, He is handled like a performer more than a reformer, more like a re-claimer of past glory than a redeemer for new life.  The demands are set: no more Rome! no more disease! more bread! more fish! And don't change our traditions! He hands them an answer: no.

They hand him to Pilate. Pilate's soldiers take charge of Him. Good luck with that.

And on the cross and from a tomb, He takes charge. He turns an execution into an executive order. Hands do not pull him from the tomb as they did from a womb. He stands and walks out. You simply can't take charge of a God like that, but he allows anyone to grasp Him by faith.

Can you handle that?
Cos
Easter 2014

God Wrestling

                                                     God Wrestling


I don't like wrestling with God. I always lose. Always.

I've been doing it quite a bit lately. In fact, with the weather, allergies, schedules, and illnesses, the walking exercise has been replaced with wrestling God. It can be done anywhere, anytime. And I always lose.

The most famous God wrestler was Jacob, known in his day as the Deceiving Destroyer. He had a heal-grabbing move that always seem to work. He didn't lose often and even when it looked like he had lost (Laban), he finds a way in the last round to win.

Then he wrestled God (Gen. 32). No winning this one. All he could do was hang on.

Since I've been wrestling God lately it made me think of Jacob. I wonder what they wrestled about. Was it about pride, power, fear, submission, integrity, the past, the future? It went on all night so maybe it was these and a dozen more topics. Round after round, move after move. Jacob couldn't get the better of God, the old heal grabbing moves did nothing. All he could do was hang on.

I've wrestled God over pride, power, position, health, money, children issues, grandchildren issues (mainly distance), injustice and a whole lot of 'why' questions. I always lose but I keep coming back for more. Who else will wrestle with me over these issues with the kind of gut wrenching honesty and confidentiality that God wields? Humans get tired of hearing about that kind of wrestling, sounds a lot like complaining to them. Lately the wrestling has been over the health of my sister-in-law, Kim. Kim is a special needs child. 'Child?' She is fifty-five but operates on about a 12\13 yr. old level in many ways. She is special to the family for other reasons. Nick-named "Chuck" and an expert on birds, dogs, and most animals she is an absolute delight to all. She has also been very sick lately. She has ulcerated colitis and had to have her colon removed. Ostomy bag for the rest of her life...lets get in the ring, God.........

"Look God, I know all humans are subject to the results of the fall. Sin affects every one. But come on, are there no exceptions? You're God! How about taking it easy on refugees from despots, five year olds so they don't get cancer or ninety-five year olds with Alzheimer's and no quality of life?
(No answer)
"Yeah, I know and today I'm mad about Kim. Can't you give an executive order and fix this thing? Hasn't she suffered enough? And on top of that You are wearing her 93 yr. old mother out. How about it, don't they qualify for mercy?
(No answer)
"Oh, I know. I've read the the Bible. I see what happened when You showed up down here. I know what we did to the incarnate Son. I've been taught the standard orthodox theology that You aren't fixing things just "for time" but for eternity. Still doesn't taste right, especially for the more innocent among us. So how about it?
(No answer)
"Come on, can You not say something, do something?"

No answer comes but I often get a distinct picture of a cross in my mind, followed by some kind of heavenly gate, and a tear. I am reminded that the cross and empty tomb are the answers to the sin of the world and its pain. I am reminded that the ultimate healing for all things broken will come in a new heaven and new earth while in this one we will have tribulation. The picture of the tear in my mind I guess is a reminder that these things hurt God's heart more than I can imagine. Did God give these images in my head as an answer? Did I invent these things to give God ''an out?" That is another round of wrestling.

I don't know what else to do. I just keep on wrestling. The older I get, the rest and peace between rounds is longer, sweeter. Maybe I'm just getting too old to wrestle as hard as in my younger days. I have noticed that between rounds God is not in an opposite corner, He is right here with me in mine.  Who knows, maybe I'm in His.

So, I just keep on wrestling with Him from time to time. Like Jacob, about all I can do is hang on.  I guess that is a part of faith. Like Jacob, who got his hip thrown out, I will lose, I will limp. I trust people who are limping spiritually. I know they are fellow wrestlers of God. I know we all lose. But it is an odd kind of losing. If you go enough rounds and keep on hanging on, you will still lose to God, but in His kingdom somehow losing becomes victory. Go figure.

Losing to win,
Cos

Imposition

                                                         Imposition


Imposition.  Its Ash Wednesday and it doesn't sound right. I look it up. Okay, imposition means to apply or place but it is usually used with the idea of force, to compel as by an authority; to obtrude or pass off on someone. Do I really want to compel, force, or pass off on others the ashes? The Latin roots help. The word imposition has its roots in the Latin word imponere meaning to put on or to place.

So the ashes are placed, they are applied. But to what end? The ritual isn't mentioned in the Bible, not even hinted, yet millions of Christian receive the ashes to their forehead or hand yearly. There is nothing in the ashes that brings you closer to God, how can ashes do so in light of the blood of Christ and the presence of His Spirit? But they can remind; they can point; they can bring a tactile sense of a spiritual reality. In these ashes are the reminders of mortality but in the sign of the cross they help us see the promise of immortality for true repentants. In these ashes are the black grit of the dirtiness of sin and the remains of a burning desire in God's heart to win back the fallen and raise from the ash heap of sin, new life.  In these ashes are the sooty reminders of what was once alive (palm branches) is now burned, changed and yet re-purposed.  Through the cross Jesus takes our burned out lives and re-purposes them for eternity. When the ashes are applied one feels the grit, but not the guilt; one feels the sign of the cross but without His forsaken-ness, one remembers His journey but receives His joy.

It is easy enough to point to the calendar and say, "Easter draws near, let us think and prayerfully reflect on the price, the sacrifice, the sin Christ took (mine) and the death He died (mine) but also the coming joy of a broken tomb." To prepare for Easter what is really needed is the Bible and maybe a calendar. But some may want to feel the ashes, feel their grit, feel the cross drawn on their foreheads as it helps them think, reflect, and pray. No, there is neither magic nor miracle in ashes no more than a plastic cup with crangrape juice and a tiny stale wafer. Yet, they point, they remind, they help us feel, they help us think and help us thank.

Imposition. Late at night the mirror sees it all.  I must wash. The hands become black with ash. The washcloth is smudged. The sink runs black. The mirror sees. The mark remains for a time on the skin as I stare back at the mirror. "Jesus, was it an imposition? The birth, the life, the loneliness, the blood, the pain, the death?" The skin is clean, scrubbed, exfoliated. "Was it an imposition, Lord?" A scripture comes to mind. Hebrews 12:2, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

The ash stained cross on the forehead has faded now. I sense the ones in my heart have too.

Cos
Lent 2014

Where's Betty?

                                                         Where's Betty?


Sitting on the front pew at church a few weeks ago I glanced over my left shoulder. We were singing "Faith is the Victory," and there, across the center aisle, on the third row was Betty. She was sitting with her husband, Don, and daughter, Cate. But in some ways, Betty wasn't there. She had a far away look and any one could tell she wasn't in the moment. Some of the people who know simply call it "the stare." Betty has Alzheimer's.

I couldn't help but wonder, "where's Betty?" Perhaps as she looked toward the choir, her choir, she was back in her place again. Maybe she remembered back when she started the music for our chapel and there were only five of them instead of the fifty the choir now has. Since we were in church maybe she remembered starting the bible study she and Don had in their home that led to the beginning of the chapel. Could she be remembering helping start the 4L's club for older ladies needing a place to socialize, fellowship, and pray. It was impossible to know from "the stare" where Betty was at that moment. I can only hope and read into those eyes something good for her.

On the next verse I glance again and I see the stare hoping she is somewhere with children or grandchildren or great-grandchildren. Is she in her garden? She loves to grow beautiful things and unusual. She's forgotten more about plants than I will ever know. It hurts.  Maybe she is remembering all the visits she made in the early days of the chapel inviting people to attend. Probably less than half of the chapel  knows how hard she worked, how outgoing and friendly she could be and that most of us might not be here in this building, enjoying this worship, and singing these songs were it not for her and a handful of other faithful saints.

What disturbs me more is that she may not remember any of this. But I can hope and I hope that behind the stare she hears the beauty of a symphony she and Don attended and supported for years. She loves music. Maybe in her mind she is playing the piano herself, accompanying Cate on the violin. I don't know because her stare can't tell me. It is somewhere far off, in the past, in the future, I can't know. I can only know that she and others with the stare deserved better than this. Her family deserved better than this. But they didn't get it. I get aggravated with God at these times of her confusion, their exhaustion, and everyone's frustration with this disease. I not only ask "where's Betty?" I ask ''where's God?" I ask Him this about a lot of situations. He doesn't say much, at least that I can hear. My theology tells me that even when I can't see or hear much, I should know He does much and that eternity will reveal it. But now the stare hides it. I have to trust that He loves Betty and will take care of her. We sing the third verse: "on every hand the foe we find drawn up in dread array..." Yeah, I see that foe and he put the stare on her face and I hate it. "Faith is the victory....that overcomes the world." I guess that stare is in some ways the battle face of one with a few battles still left to fight. I see that stare and by faith must trust that God sees and feels it too. But it's still haunting and I wonder--where's Betty?

After church we go into the fellowship hall for coffee and conversation. I make my rounds. I try to say "hello" to new faces and faces that seem sad or alone or that I just haven't seen in a while. Then I see Betty. One of the sister saints has seen her too. She knows her, her past, her present, her future. She engages Betty. At that moment Betty smiles, her eyes are bright, she speaks. There is joy. There stare is gone and for a few minutes I know where Betty is. She is here; she is with family by blood and by faith. God is with her in this moment, and though harder to see, He is with her in the stare. She is here and will be until "we vanquish all the hosts of night in Jesus' conquering name."

Faith is the Victory, even when it is hard to see.
II Corinthians 5:7

Cos

Used by permission from the  family. For more information or to volunteer, please call the Alzheimer's Association. The Hill county number is 254.458.6560.

Squeezing the Life Out of It

                                                    Squeezing the Life Out of It


People feel squeezed this time of year around here. It may be everywhere but I know the circle of my knowing often feels they have been caught by a boa constrictor.

What's squeezing everybody? The usual pythons of money, family, time pressures, expectations- both and  real and unreal- plus the ongoing search for meaning in this messy world. It seems that right after Christmas, folks have to pay their real estate taxes, a new set of tires is needed, the water heater breaks, the truck dies, and the furnace goes out--all these literally happening within a half mile of my front door.

And if it is not breaking things needing the attention of money then it is something else out-of-balance and whomperjawed (a west Texas term). Maybe someone's kids made it through Christmas but they and you knew their marriage was in trouble and they split. Your heart breaks and is squeezed. Now someone else has kids whose marriage is okay but their kids started back to school after the Christmas holiday and have gotten the flu. "Could you come and stay with them so we can go to work?" Translated: would you bring yourselves over to catch the flu for us so we can take care of those bills squeezing us in paragraph two? You don't want to get the flu but you go, it's grand kids.  Some kids move home, borrow money or just struggle and their squeezing squeezes you. Other people are being squeezed by other health issues from arthritis to knee replacement to valve replacement to cedar fever to cancer treatments. They feel with every breath their life is squeezed out a little more as the snake tightens its' grip with every exhalation. How am I going to get the next breath?

And frankly, God seems to sit there and let the squeezing go on and on 'til you can hardly breathe. I can't know all the whys and wherefores of pain and squeezings, and I hate cutesy little sayings like 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.' Really, in light of the tremendous pain, suffering and honest questions of God and life we give that kind of answer? Tip-toe up to the bed  of a cancer patient burning with chemo induced fever or chills and tell them that. No, I don't pretend to know all the answers. But I have seen some amazing things from God's children being squeezed. They get the Life squeezed out of them.

Because all along God hasn't just been sitting there doing nothing. He has been working from the moment He was invited into your heart to put into your life all the character and qualities of a child of the King. Now this doesn't change the pain of being squeezed, it doesn't dismiss the hell that you or loved ones feel,  but may I ask a question: what comes out of you when you are squeezed? The answer is whatever has been put in or allowed in. At squeezing time, attitudes come out we wish weren't there. At other times anger, selfishness, manipulation and a host of unChrist-like junk leaks out. But as a person submits to His Lordship, learns to trust, leans into Jesus to walk and learn, a wonderful thing begins to happen over the course of living life. No, the squeezing doesn't stop but as life squeezes Life come out. I have seen joy come out of the squeezing of trials. I have seen forgiveness come out of a life squeezed by betrayal. I have watched anger and bitterness squeeze a life, a marriage, a wandering child and love ooze out like a balm to soothe, comfort, and heal. This may not make the pressure easy, but it lends to it a meaning, a dignity, a purpose. The Apostle Paul tackled the issue in II Corinthians 4:7-18, keeping his eyes on an eternal glory that far out weighed the weight of squeezing.

I picture Jesus on the cross, His very life being squeezed out of Him but there issues from Him not just drops of physical blood but the forgiving, healing and loving drops of grace. It's what was in Him.
What does your world around you get when life squeezes you?  What is there will be revealed--when the pressure comes, let them see Jesus.

Cos

Fries With That?

I have realized I need to be more civic minded. Not living in a "city" per se and out in the rural regions has its advantages but it can lull you to sleep about some important matters. I need to work on helping my region grow and develop well.

But how? I have no skill or hardly any experience in these areas. I have ideas. So I put forward this idea that I think would help our area attract more citizens and maybe even more businesses, at least of a certain mindset. Imagine if the Whitney city fathers would pass an ordinance and outlaw fast food restaurants from offering their "upsize" and extra sales pitches for extra food or drink at their drive-thrus. They could, by local law, only say something like, '' welcome, how may I serve you?" 

I guess as I work toward my curmudgeon degree some stuff annoys me more. This drive-thru "up-selling" is one of them. A person has picked one drive-in over four others in a two block area because they have an idea of what they want from that restaurant. I have never been influenced by the uber friendly voice wanting me to try the new mango-lime-chipotle shake. I know no one who has. But you get the recording or the sixteen year old kid trying to win a sales contest trying to sell you more.  I have no idea what twenty-five year old with a new MBA talked these huge corporations into thinking that delaying and annoying customers was a good idea but we have all suffered through the sales pitches before we can order our Diet Dr Pepper. I hope when that person gets to heaven, if he makes it, that St. Peter asks him when he gets to the Pearly Gates, "you want wings with that robe? for ten more good deeds you get a halo.'' before he lets him in.

Anyway, if Whitney were to pass an ordinance forbidding this irksome habit, I'm sure hundreds if not a half-dozen people would flock to Whitney just to avoid the "you want fries with that?" (Really, lots of people dip fries into strawberry shakes?) Or "would you like to make that a value meal?'' (so your meal has no value as I ordered it?)  Or "would you like to add some cheesecake bites to go with your diet Dr Pepper?" (Yes, I would, but do you think I'd be ordering a diet drink if I could eat cheesecake on a whim?)

I could imagine a drive-thru conversation happening at a local establishment....

"Ding-ding"  (car going over electronic triggering device)

"Welcome to Burger Barn. Would you like to try our deluxe triple-decker with three cheeses extra-value meal with complementary napkins and 10% off coupons to litter your floorboard?"

"No, thank-you. Do you realize that I am 59 yeas old with a graduate degree and 35 years of experience in my profession and managed to drive a two ton vehicle to your restaurant and am capable of ordering a meal?"

"No, sir, but in that case we have a baby-boomer special with extra lettuce on the thawed out grilled chicken patty."

"No, thank-you and I realize you  are probably only 16 years old doing exactly what you were trained to do by your manager who learned to teach you that in a seminar in Little Rock, but at my age, education, and socio-economic level did it ever occur to you that I may have a good idea of what I wanted before I picked this drive-thru over the others within a few blocks."

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. What may I get for you, sir?"

"I want a large diet Dr Pepper with lots of ice."

"Yes, sir. That will be $1.37. Would you like fries with that....opps, sorry. Pull to first window, please.....

Thirty seconds later from within the drive-in window was heard:

"Hey, dudes, look! Mr. Graduate Degree with 35 years experience paid for his drink at the first window, forgot his change and left his drink at the pick-up window as he drove off in his two ton vehicle. We should have asked if he wanted brains with that?"

On second thought, I think I will stick with Kingdom growth and let the town officials take care of city growth. In the Kingdom everything you need is free and already up-sized. In the Kingdom, the King is the special value.

I'll take that,

Cos

New Glasses

                                                       New Glasses


He had reached the age where there was more to see in the rear view mirror of life than the years that lie ahead. It wasn't a surprise and not depressing but it still crossed his mind as he went to have his eyes examined.  How many more pair of glasses would he need in this life? Two, three, four at the most...He knew he would need a new pair of specs even if the prescription hadn't changed. The old ones were scratched and stretched. His bride of forty years pointed out they were out of style, too. He felt he could see just fine but eye health was important so he made his appointment.

He began to think about all he had seen in these old glasses--about seven years of sights, he recollected. Two grandchildren appeared through their lenses, two moves, a couple of used cars, a few dozen new friends, seven holiday seasons, 1000+ Sonic happy hour diet dr peppers, a thousand eyes looking back at him and over a hundred thousand miles of highways. These eyes had cried at a couple of dozen funerals of family and friends and watched faces add a line or two with the passing of days. It was kinda funny how the happy faces were still happy and the sad faces pretty much still sad.  He had had the chance for 2456 sunrises and sunsets and he probably noticed half or less of them.

He did notice something else about his vision, something that was a bit disconcerting, a tad troublesome. Something he wasn't sure how to explain.

In mid-thought the doctor came in and began his exam. "Which is better, one or two? Two or three? Three or four?'' "Tell me when one set of lines crosses directly under another... ok.... and again. Now tell me which is better, one or two? Two or three? Very good. Your eyes have changed a little, consistent with a person of your age. Other than a slight change to your prescription, your eyes are healthy. I do suggest you get a new pair of glasses, I'm afraid these frames have had it.

"Yeah, Doc, I know. But I am a little worried about my vision.

"Really, what's bothering you? Your eyes are healthy......"

"Well, Doc, I see the past much better than the future. And even the past is clouded with nostalgia. Every thing I view with hindsight seems better, clearer. I know it wasn't but looking back the Cowboys won, my elected officials appeared more virtuous, my values were accepted by nearly everyone, and looking back it seems like everything was simpler, slower. I know it wasn't but it seems that way to me. Then when I look to the future it is so cloudy. It looks foreign, out-of-place. I can't make out where I fit in it. Everything goes by so quickly. I need to be able to see some hope, some meaning, some purpose, some virtue and nobility in my life. Can you help me see a future like that, Doc?"

"I don't have any glasses for that. If I did I buy the first pair and sell a hundred a day. I think for that prescription you had better go see your pastor."

"I am the pastor......................."


God grant us Your vision, may we see through the eyes of Jesus Your world, Your future, and our lives.

Cos