Palm Sunday and Expectations

Tomorrow, we celebrate the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, surrounded by people hailing him as the Messiah. Evidently this procession was not the only one making it’s way into the city that day. The Roman governor, Pilate, was also entering Jerusalem with his forces. This was something that happened before every Jewish holiday. After all, the Romans had to remind the Jews who really was in charge.

So, you have an imperial Roman procession on one side of the city and a subversive, Messianic parade on the other side. The people shouting, “Hosanna!” as Jesus made his way along the road thought they understood what was going on. As they saw it, this man who had performed so many miracles was the promised king who would drive out the hated Gentile oppressors and restore the glory of Israel. Unfortunately, as the week unfolded, some of these same people, now disillusioned, would join in the calls for his crucifixion by those same oppressors.

Those folks were partially right. Jesus was the promised Messiah. He had come to set up a kingdom and free them from their oppression. What they didn’t realize was the nature of the kingdom. Even the disciples didn’t completely understand what this kingdom was all about. It was a kingdom that is not of this world, a kingdom that came in, not by way of overthrowing the present empire, but by the king dying at the hands of that empire. The Jews were expecting God to do things the way they expected. They didn’t understand that God rarely works that way.

I thought of how many times I pray for things and think that God is going to answer those prayers in a certain way, either because I jump through a certain number of hoops to “earn” God’s blessing, or because I can’t think of any other way God could act. I trust in God for the things I think he will (or should) do. Like the Jews, I sometimes follow Jesus for what I can get out of it. The funny thing is, God often seems to not do the things that I expect, yet things turn out in such a way that I know the Father is taking care of me. Things have not been all sweetness and light, and sometimes I question God about what he is doing. But I can look back on days gone by and see that God was there, and that he was working.

I am learning that God is not predictable. He is not someone who can be counted on to always do things a certain way. God relates to people in all kinds of ways, and we cannot tie him down to a particular plan of action. None of us can figure God out, yet he calls us into relationship with him. In that relationship we learn to trust God simply for who he is rather than for what we think he can do for us.

Be encouraged. Your Father loves you more than you know. He has given you his life and his glory. Trust the Father, even when the parade of Palm Sunday turns into the darkness of Friday.

A Little Update

This morning I had my tenth radiation treatment for my prostate cancer. I have nineteen more to go. As I was sitting in the waiting room, a young woman came in and sat down. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties. I thought, “She’s far too young to have to undergo radiation for cancer.” At the same time I thought of a dear friend who is in her last hours on this earth due to cancer, and how she is also too young.

These thoughts, combined with the fact that I was sitting in a waiting room waiting to receive radiation for cancer, made me quite aware again of the fact that none of us gets out of here alive, barring the return of Jesus to set all things right. The past year or so, I have been doing a bit of downsizing, housecleaning, whatever you want to call it with my personal posessions. I have also been doing the same in the ways I approach life and those around me.

The buzz word (or dirty word, depending on your point of view) among Christians, is “deconstructing.” It means different things for different people. I am doing some deconstructing, or maybe decluttering might be a better word. I am realizing that many of the things we allow ourselves to get all worked up about aren’t realy worth the mental or emotional energy. I care and less about national and world politics, although I will still speak about things that I think are important to my faith. I am learning to care less and less about what people think, although there is still a large part of me that wants to be liked.

My theology, like Karl Barth’s, is becoming more and more summed up in the words of the children’s song; “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and my rule for living has become “Love God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And, love your neighbor as yourself.” I firmly believe that if those of us who claim to follow Jesus would practice those two commands, the church and the world would be better for it.

Life is short. Macbeth said that it is “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” I heartily disagree. Life is a precious gift from our Creator, and we are to live in a way that gives back to him a bit of the love he has shown us, and that extends that love to those in our lives. Love the people around you, while there is still time.

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son

This was first posted back in 2011. There are a couple of minor edits.

Today, I’m starting a four part series on the story of the Prodigal Son. The story of the prodigal is a story of God’s grace to his wayward children when they come home. It is also a story with a number of layers that speak to us in different ways at different times in our lives. Henri Nouwen wrote a book titled, The Return of the Prodigal Son, based on his reflections on a painting by Rembrandt. My ramblings come largely from reading this book.

The first person we encounter in the story is the younger son. This son comes to his father and asks for his part of the inheritance that would come to him after his father dies. This is more than just a request to get money due him earlier than he would normally receive it. The ones who heard this story would have been outraged at the attitude of the younger son. In effect, he was saying to his father, “I reject you and everything you stand for, your culture, your religion, everything. I wish you were dead!” In a culture where rebellious children could be stoned to death, this was a dangerous and devastating statement for the son to make and for the father to hear. The father however, decided to give his son what he asked for. He handed over the money and said goodbye. As a father, I can imagine the heartbreak he went through as one of his sons turned his back on everything and left.

The younger son went off to a “distant country,” where he squandered his inheritance on parties and whores. He was completely deaf to the voice that would have reminded him of his father’s love and of what he had been taught. In short, he forgot who he was. I would imagine that most of us can see ourselves in the younger son in some way. Some may have wandered into a life of dissipation and come out of it. Others may have experimented with some things but not gone all the way in. In my own life, I was drawn in to things that were not good for me, although I never wandered completely away. Of course, there are some out there who would consider me a prodigal today.

There is another way to be the younger son, a way that many, many more have fallen into. That is the way of forgetting whose child we are and trying to get our identity from other things or other people. That is the way I most identify with the prodigal. Whether it’s from a job, a skill, a style, or a group of people, we try to prove our worth by other things than what our Father says. Our culture says that what is important is how you dress, what job you have, what kind of car you drive, how much money you make, or what group you hang out with. Unfortunately, those things become like the husks the prodigal wished to eat while feeding the pigs. Trying to find our worth and identity in any thing of this world is a futile exercise, leading to emptiness.

Fortunately for the prodigal, he did come to his senses and remember who he was. I can see him slapping himself on the forehead, and saying, “What am I doing here? I’m not a pig farmer! I’m a son of a father who has a lot of money and food! Why am I starving here?” So, after coming to his senses he returned home. He still didn’t completely remember who we was though. Or better, he didn’t understand completely the kind of person his father was. His plan was to go home and convince his father to give him a job. He didn’t believe his father would accept him back as a son. We sometimes also forget who we are dealing with when we go to our Father. We believe the lies that we can’t be his child if we do certain things, or that we have to do something to get ourselves back into his good graces. We feel we have to “get right with God.” We forget that our Father loves us and always accepts us.

The son returns and finds himself in the midst of a homecoming better than he could have imagined. He can’t get his prepared speech out before his father welcomes him back and throws the biggest party the neighborhood has ever seen. So it is when we come to our senses and remember who we are. We are beloved children of the Creator of the universe. He is pleased with us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to cause his love to decrease, and nothing we can do to increase his love. He holds us in his hands and nothing can pull us out. Period.

Remember who you are. If you’ve forgotten, your Father is looking for your return so he can lavish his grace and love on you.

Christians and Statism

One of the biggest problems I see in the church in America is the problem of statism. A classic definition of statism is “concentration of economic controls and planning in the hands of a highly centralized government often extending to government ownership of industry.” I am not going to use that definition. I would define statism as I see it in this country as the the belief that the state will solve our problems, and that our job is to work to elect the people that will take care of those things.

Usually, statists are thought of as being on the left side of the political spectrum. These are the folks that are accused of wanting the government to control everything, from the economy to health care to individual rights. What some may not realize, is that statists are found on the other side of the aisle as well. Theses would the folks that see government as the means for restoring, or at least protecting, Christianity and ensuring our rights.

Statists can be found all across the spectrum, from the individual who told Bill Clinton that we are his children, to the almost worshipful praise given to Barak Obama, to the statements made about Donald Trump comparing him to King Cyrus or even King David. Look at the way politicians are idolized by the members of their party, and the way they are vilified by the members of the opposite party.

Statists believe that the most important thing in life is ensuring that their candidate is elected to office so that life will be better. Whether it’s returning to some fabled yesterday when we and those who agree with us were on top, or moving on to a new utopia, the prevailing thought is that if our side doesn’t win the country is headed for hell in a handbasket. As our country heads down that dark road, our faith will go down with it, and Christianity will suffer greatly.

When Christians put that much faith in whatever political system we think is best, we forget that we are not just citizens of this nation. We are not just under a certain political system. We are citizens first and foremost of the Kingdom of God, and our first allegiance is to King Jesus. Our King told Pilate that his kingdom was not of this world. he was not afraid of the man who represented the most powerful empire of that day because he knew that Rome was not really supreme or in control. He knew that what would happen to him would usher in the Kingdom of God and that Rome’s empire would pass away, as do all empires. The early Christians did not get in trouble with the political powers because they proclaimed that people could go to heaven when they died. They suffered persecution because they were proclaiming that the real King had come, that the kingdom of Rome was not in charge. They didn’t pledge allegiance to the empire. Their allegiance was to the King of Kings.

The kingdom we are a part of is a kingdom that grows and rules differently than an earthly kingdom. It does not operate by force, whether force of arms or force of opinion and criticism. The kingdom of Jesus operates by a love that sacrifices self for others. It is a kingdom that does not force change, whether by passing laws or ostracizing. Christ’s kingdom grows in ways we don’t always see, much like yeast spreading through a lump of dough. We can’t build for this kingdom by making America great again, or by any other plans a politician may have on the right or the left.

Can we participate in this kingdom of this world? That is up to each person’s individual conscience. You can vote, or not vote. You can work for a particular candidate, or opt out. But whatever you do, as a follower of King Jesus keep in mind that he deserves your allegiance, that all of the political movers and shakers are part of a kingdom of this world and can never build the Kingdom of God, and that other Christians are not only fellow citizens of heaven but are also brothers and sisters who we are to love as Jesus loved us.If we have to make a choice between party and a brother or sister in Christ, we should choose the latter.

The vitriol that is directed toward those who disagree with a particular stance (and I confess that I have been guilty of this) is not right. It is not what should be coming from those who follow Jesus. We can and will disagree on particular points. But we must not forget that we are called to love and serve others. We can and will call out those who are doing wrong. But we must make sure that we do the same when the one doing wrong is a member of our party. We must also remember that, while God may well use a leader we agree with, he can just as easily use someone with whom we disagree.

The early Christians turned the world upside down , not through rallies and revolution, but through the unstoppable power of the gospel of King Jesus and the love they showed for others, even their enemies. May we proclaim that same gospel in our day and time.

Blast from the Past: Reflections on Ash Wednesday

This was first posted on February 21, 2010 and has been edited to bring it up to date.

Wednesday, February 26 is the first day of Lent. Ash Wednesday is celebrated by Christians around the world with a service that includes the placing of ashes on the forehead of the worshipers. The ashes are to remind that we are made from dust, and to dust we will return. In the tradition in which I grew up, Lent (like most of the church calendar) was not even on our radar. We celebrated Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Easter. I had a vague notion that other days were observed in other traditions, but we were taught that those days were not important. So, I’m a bit late to the keeping of the church calendar, and still learning.

As I go through the Lenten period, I am struck by the fact that our bodies are formed from the dust of the ground, and to that dust they will return. Because of the brokenness of Creation, we face the inevitable decay of our physical selves. As a more than middle-aged man who has tried to compete in sports at the same level he did when he was in his twenties, I can attest to that. At some point our bodies will wear out and no longer be useful to us. When they are then placed in the ground, they will return to the dust from which they came. As we look around us, we see that decay in every part of our world. Ash Wednesday and Lent are good reminders that we are broken and in need of a savior.

Thankfully, that is not the end of the story. During this time, we take a good hard look at our humanity and our brokenness, but we also look ahead to the time when our Savior will return and will restore Creation. We look forward to the resurrection and the Kingdom of God coming in all its fullness. When I think about Ash Wednesday, and the symbolism of the ashes on the forehead, I think of the song, “Beauty Will Rise.” In that song Steven Curtis Chapman sings, “Out of these ashes… beauty will rise and we will dance among the ruins We will see Him with our own eyes Out of these ashes…beauty will rise For we know, joy is coming in the morning… in the morning …This is our hope. This is the promise. That it would take our breath away to see the beauty that’s been made out of the ashes…”

As we go through this season of Lent, contemplating our sinfulness and our need of a redeemer, let us remember that we do have a Savior who has made us a new creation, and who will one day make all things new.

Reflections

A couple of days ago I celebrated another trip around the sun, my 64th. It was good to be with family.

There’s a lot to reflect on as I look back over the years. Our country has been through quite a few military conflicts, none as important to the world as WWII, although a couple have lasted much longer. We have bounced back and forth between conservative and liberal administrations and seem to have lost the center, as the two major parties move further away from each other.

The evangelical wing of the church is becoming as divided as the parties, with one group siding with the Republicans and one group throwing their lot in with the Democrats. We have forgotten that we are not to depend on government to “deliver” us, but only on the Savior who gave his life for us.

I reflect back on my own life, how so much of what I was absolutely sure of as a young person has faded away and how what I don’t know may be greater than what I do know. I still hold to the core beliefs of my faith in Jesus, but that is more and more being distilled down to loving God with every fiber of my being and loving others as Jesus loves me.

Physically, I am feeling the effects of getting older. I move a lot slower than when I was younger, and the only way I can touch the rim on a basketball goal now is by climbing up a stepladder. I can no longer eat the way I used to, and sometimes I forget and misplace things.

All in all, with all the changes, there is not much I would change and very little that I regret. While there are things I might have done differently, I believe that my steps have ordered by a gracious and loving Heavenly Father and that he has and will continue to work everything for my good. To quote one of my favorite stories, “How goes the world?” “The world goes not well. But the Kingdom comes.”

Some Things I Don’t Understand

A young teenage girl died this week. She left behind family and friends who loved her dearly. I know all the things that are true. She lived far longer than expected. She is no longer in pain. God is good and kind and he is in control. I know all that and I believe all that. Still, there are some things I don’t understand.

Last night some of us sat with two friends of the young lady. Most of that time was spent in silence. We grieved with them. At this time, it’s the only thing we could do. I spent some time wondering about the brokenness of this world and the pain that we humans have to endure. Jan and I have lost both of our parents in the last few years. That kind of thing is more normal. Children are “supposed” to outlive their parents.

This is different. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. Teenagers are not supposed to spend evenings grieving for other teenagers. People are not supposed to die that young. This world is not supposed to be the way it is. Even though I know the creation is broken and groaning because of sin, I still don’t understand why it sometimes works out the way it does. Even though I know God is good and compassionate, I still don’t understand why this compassion sometimes plays out the way it does.

I know and believe that my Father is loving. I know and believe that his love extends to the young lady and the family and friends she left behind. Having said that, I still have to admit that I don’t understand. The only thing I can do is try to trust my Father’s heart. I have to trust that Romans 8 is right, that God works in everything for the good of those who love him. I have to believe, not only for me, but in some way for my friends who lost a loved one. 

I  have to trust my Father because I can’t trust my own understanding.

Refreshing Streams

A couple of weeks ago, I took a Saturday and went up to a mountain area not too far from here. After dealing with a bit of anxiety that had caused me to end up in the hospital with what I thought might be a heart attack (thankfully, it wasn’t), I realized that some old hurts still needed healing and were causing me to be anxious about certain things because I was afraid of being hurt again. A lot of things had been happening in my life the past couple months and I succumbed to the temptation to worry about some of them.

As I was hiking through this area, the air was hot and humid, and the trail was dry. I drank enough water before I started walking, so I wasn’t in danger of dehydration, but I did start to get thirsty. After about a mile or so, I came to an area that had a stream flowing through, with a bench for sitting. As I journaled and prayed, one of the thoughts that came to me was the Psalmist saying that he panted after God like a deer pants after water. Even though the stream next to me wasn’t fit to drink, I was still reminded of the many times God has refreshed me when I was dry and thirsty.

My Abba Father has always been there for me, even during those times when it didn’t seem like it; those times when I felt as if I were wandering in the desert with no water in sight. I can go on these mini retreats because I do have a source of living water from which to drink my fill. I realize there will be times when I will be panting and thirsty, but God will always be there with living water, even if it takes a while to get there.

I know that there will be times ahead that could cause anxiety and that I will be hurt. It goes with hanging around people. But I am also realizing that I am only called to show God’s love to folks. I am not responsible for the results. I am learning again to trust my Father’s love and goodness, and let him take care of me and those I care about.

The dry, thirsty trails are still there to wander down. But, there is cool, refreshing water along the way.