"The teaching of the sermon on the mount is not 'Do your Duty' but is, in effect, "Do what is NOT your duty.' It is not your duty to go the second miles, or to turn the other cheek, but Jesus said that if we are His disciples, we will always do these things. We will not say 'oh well, I just can't do anymore, and I've been so misrepresented and misunderstood.' Everytime I insist on having my OWN rights, I hurt the Son of God, while in fact I can prevent Jesus from being hurt if I will take the blow myself.
That is the real meaning of filling 'up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ...' (Colossians 1:24). A disciple realizes that it is his or her Lord's honor that is at stake in his life, NOT his or her OWN honor." -Oswald Chambers My Utmost for His Highest July 14
One thing I have seen this summer is this; people always have rights (or at least think they do). People have come into to our church wishing to work their right to be married, and then their right to be married in THIS church at THIS time in THIS building. We have a right to life, liberty, and happiness. A right to buy our own cars and houses, to listen to our favorite bands and read any book we desire. We believe there is a right to free speech, to bearing arms, and to having individual opinions and beliefs. Some want more rights; the right to marry anyone of any gender, the right to abort their unborn children, the right to research stem cells or to have universal health care. And so we argue these rights, we debate on Capitol Hill, we fight and say why or why not something is right, wrong, or just plain gray. And in the end, if we are truly followers of Jesus Christ we need to affirm one thing, and one things only.
We have no rights.
Our rights are merely us emphasising us. It is a necessity in government to have rights in order to keep the weakerthans from complete and utter oppression, but in the end what is our right as a Christian? Are we not slaves and servants to our Savior rather than our own self-serving rights? We live in a society of hierarchies and principalities. We go to our city councils who adhere to our state governments, who adhere to our Capitol and we can keep going higher and higher but in the end, who is allegiance really to? America? Grand Rapids? Our family name or favorite sports team? No. It's to Him, Christ.
People presuppose their rights. In fact, it is one of the greatest duties of the church to break down such a misconceptions that we have such rights. People come to church, stating they have rights. A right not to tithe due to their lack of possessions. A right not to sing due to their right to have their praise music as they like it. A right to treat one's body as one's will desires, that gluttony of food and drink, drug and sex, lust and greed, is merely archaic law killing our joy and natural inclination towards enjoyment. A right to be angry at one's friends, parents, and brother because of their hurtful words, their malicious treatment, and their inability to look past our skin and bones to who we really are.
Is it no wonder that Christ asked that before we come to him in prayer, that we go forgive anyone whom has sinned against us before going to Him (Mark 11:25)? As Christ-Followers, NEVER did he make it a requirement that we turn our cheek to others, rather, He simply says that those who truly follow and have faith in Him will naturally, though maybe unwillingly, will do so. They will conform to the will of Christ rather than one's self right to be angry at their brother, sister, or friend. The Christian at his or her perfected state admits no rights to themselves or anything else; their possessions, friends, loves, and life are His, the world and all that is in it. This world is on-loan and until the Christian can accept this, they will only consistently and persistently break the heart of their Savior by asserting their rights and ownership over what is not theirs. We, in the process of placing our name and title upon our possessions, our friends, our family, our bodies, and our feelings of anger and pain, merely ignore the Creator of all while idolizing and worshiping the paintings and charcoal sketches of our Lord. Creation, gift that it be, is by no means the one who created it. A creation is to be marvelled, but it is it's Creator that we must love. To state that we have rights to anything in their cosmic piece of art is little else than to anchor ourselves in an imperfect world when what Christ called us to all along was to throw off our fetters and bonds of right and privilege in order to allow our wings to stretch and our hearts to soar to the one who calls them.
As C.S. Lewis writes "When God arrives (and only then) that the half-gods can remain" (The Four Loves) It is only when we accept that our rights to indignation and sympathy our meaningless that we can, for the first time, throw caution to the wind and allow the Spirit of God to come inside our torn and wretched bodies and hearts. And it is in that moment that we can truly accept that our lives and all that is in them is not a right fulfilled, but a gift given. And it is when we accept that this gift; a life we are not worthy of, colours and sounds fit for a king, and loved ones irreplaceable, that we can finally accept the gift of grace; Divine Love.
It is by this Divine Love that "...in man and woman, enables them to love what is naturally unlovable; lepers, criminals, enemies, morons, the sulky, the superior, and the sneering." (The Four Loves). Our only right in this world is a right to rebel, to be an individual, to sin and err and spew fallacy and hurt. Christianity is not a right, it is a sacrifice of worship holy and pleasing to our Lord (Romans 12:1-2), it is stating we are not our own but belong every inch and hair to our Savior, that we burn and refine away all that is not Him in order that what little remains is pure and perfect reflection of Him.
Have we let our own honor and individuality and rights to privilege come in our way on the path towards our utmost conformity to Christ? Are we drowning in pools of self-pity and remorse in aquatic pits and tanks we constructed around ourselves? Are we so busy screaming to the world that our rights and feeling have been hurt that we cannot hear the whispers of Christ desiring us to let go of such rights and control, that we can, in fact, be free from such petty and ugly bickering and hate?
Someday, when we pass from this earth, we will face those who we quarrelled with, bickered with, accepted tremendous and grievous hurt from, and in that Heavenly realm it will not be our store of bitter and snarky statements that we will remember, no, it will be our love that will be remembered. Even the greatest of enemies of war come to realize in the Heavenly Realms that their right to war and anger carries very little weight in a world where such hate and indignation is nothing more than the waste and feces of our new bodies.
It's all about grace. What is grace? It is that we have no outstanding right to.
Forgive your brother
Forgive your sister
Forgive your friends, your ex's, your deepest and darkest nemesis
Forgive yourself.
And give up your rights. Love. Simple as that.
Yet so hard...
Take care you all...will be home soon!!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A Quiet Tuesday
"Another Tuesday morning...
The usual, morning staff morning, prayer, reviewing new bulletin designs and so on and so forth. By now it's almost 11:30 and very little constructive work got done. Then again, what can you expect, after all, I have three and a half work days left here. All I could ever have asked for in a summer has been fulfilled. Any ministry experience I could ever need has been offered and has been treasured and pondered. Not to mention that at this point of the year we are at that standstill, the calm before the storm, the days between the end of summer and the beginning of the fall semester of the local schools. For a brief period our church is quiet. The halls are silent. Tom is off in Columbia for the day with his family, Lynda is with hers. Cliff is in his office as is Tricia. The only noises from my office? John's carpet cleaner is in the sanctuary and The Doors are playing off my computer speakers (I Can't See Your Face in My Mind to be exact off their "Strange Days" album...great song). Weird. So busy for so long, a summer of activity upon activity and then...
silence.
The music stops. Album over. Better find something to listen to...something more upbeat, acoustic, folksy...the Good Old War, that's what I want...yeah. "I'm going to Coney Island to have myself a dog, and reminisce how i still hate it here. It's all these people with their Cotton Candy eyes, it's so sweet now put the train in gear." Funny, I don't hate it here...I love it here in fact, I enjoy it to the very utmost. I love the people, their sincerity and honesty. It is too easy to talk with "Cotton Candy" eyes, offering sweets instead of substance, fluff instead of stuff, a muffled "fine" rather than a heavy sigh. I love the beach; the many late afternoon runs to the beach, walking across the silky yet sturdy sand during low tide while splashing along the shore during the high tide..."
Sorry, I was just interrupted. A church member looking for John, he commented on how he enjoyed my sermon Sunday, how comfortable I seemed and how it should reach to a younger generation. This summer Hana and I have talked often on the horrid task of accepting compliments, it's hard to say the least. After all, all we as Christians can desire it to be merely vessels...we call this humility. Yet, are we sufficiently accepting God's grace and glory when we constantly, without thought, divert positive re-enforcement and thanks from those around us towards Him without mention of ourselves? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Blake Jurgens deserves endless praise and worship...but aren't the Blake Jurgens, the Hana Smiths, the Nick Baas and Brandon Haans, the Nate Doors and the John Debraskys, the AJs, Jennas, and all those others, aren't they, body and soul, created to glorify their creator though their freedom to worship thru their abilities and talents? That's hard, to affirm God's grace while accepting the praise of our humanity; a much harder task to maintain God's work, our humility as vessels, and our autonomy as His creation. Does our conformity to Christ allow emphasis on our gifts and our role in His redemptive purposes? Can a child accept thanks for His father's work? Maybe our feeble scribbles and scratches are worth more than we realize, and just maybe, perhaps, our work in this world is more than just acting as a mere puppet, but rather a child, watching his or her ma or pa, picking up bit by bit the trade they passed onto them.
Back to typing. I like that here. Easy-going, patient, agendas and calenders are suggestion or emphasised suggestion, but never a solid, concrete barrier or restriction. It's Christ-like. After all, Jesus NEVER emphasised that his schedule was too busy to love, to full to heal, to complicated and exhausting to teach. Though he was always on His way to Jerusalem, He always watched the side of the road, searching for those who needed His love for no other reason than He loved them first. What if we, as Christians, put away our agenda and conceptions of our lives for just a few seconds and allowed ourselves to envision to roadsides, the leper colonies, the empty and distraught places and the driest of deserts. Is it too much to ask that Christianity be a religion based on relationship-spontaneity? That we, as Christians, throw aside our schedules and pick up our hearts out of our bags as we pull off our bluetooth headsets and turn our phones to vibrate. Is it possible that we have been sucked into the world and in the midst of worrying about adapting to a sick and depraved culture, worrying about music with naughty words and bad movies, political images and all that such, that we have become like the world in the sense that we are little more than consumers consuming rather than reformers always reforming? That we are, in the midst of the morning commute, the afternoon business meetings, and our social conformity, that we have become exactly what Christ warned us not to become, even as we, with near-unnecessary fervor, protest abortion, perverted sexuality, and other 'hot topics'?
I spilled melted butter on my pants this morning; slid right off my bagel. Drat. I tried warm water and no difference. The Lemon Pledge looked promising...and it was. The stains are gone. How simple it is to wash stains away when you use the right tools.
Is Christianity washing away the stains of Christ? Do we go through life not noticing that the very stains that set us free from bondage to sin are now the very stains we are trying to wash away? Humanity is wounded, imperfect, fallen. It is there, in those empty rotting wounds that Christ fits the best, He fills such space and will further when we close our eyes the final time. Why then are we trying to cover these wounds up with bandage and attempt limping through life screaming out in our pain "I'm fine, I swear!" Can it be true that to be most Christ-like is to be most-broken and ravaged with sin? Can being in conformity with Christ mean such freedom? We all want to be free; free from discrimination, free from laws and decrees, and often we say we want freedom from sin. We want freedom, or so we think...yet, when Christ offers such deep freedom we deny it. We never truly want such freedom, we do not care to be open with our deepest wounds and sin, and in that quick moment of isolation and individuality we instantly hide ourselves from His light, and we shackle ourselves.
Christians want freedom. Any Christian who asks for such freedom needs to know that this freedom is the hardest freedom you will ever have. It will force you to admit your stumbles, it will push you towards choices you would never care to make, it kick you to be open even in the most uncomfortable situations. This freedom will force you to share your home with the inhospitable, to hug those you could care less to hug, to forgive over and over for the same mistakes, and to admit the gaping holes within our cavities and hidden places to complete strangers. Did not Jesus, in his freedom, seek not a political kingdom, nor a society of monks, or even an army of hardened soldiers and dry and cracking hearts. No, in His freedom he marched towards a cross and the scorn of humanity. He disappointed men! He took dreams and visions of a political and religious Messiah and dashed them and did what a rebel and revolutionary should never do; he let himself be killed a sinner's death. In His freedom he allowed himself to be chained to the sufferings of the world and in that act he most freely loved us. Our freedom in Christ is only fulfilled when we chain ourselves to such acts of love, giving ourselves and our wounds in order to assist His lost children, wandering and searching for a place to call home.
Ok, time for lunch. Hopefully a run later on. Thanks for stopping by"
God is love.
Therefore, we must be so too.
Pray.
The usual, morning staff morning, prayer, reviewing new bulletin designs and so on and so forth. By now it's almost 11:30 and very little constructive work got done. Then again, what can you expect, after all, I have three and a half work days left here. All I could ever have asked for in a summer has been fulfilled. Any ministry experience I could ever need has been offered and has been treasured and pondered. Not to mention that at this point of the year we are at that standstill, the calm before the storm, the days between the end of summer and the beginning of the fall semester of the local schools. For a brief period our church is quiet. The halls are silent. Tom is off in Columbia for the day with his family, Lynda is with hers. Cliff is in his office as is Tricia. The only noises from my office? John's carpet cleaner is in the sanctuary and The Doors are playing off my computer speakers (I Can't See Your Face in My Mind to be exact off their "Strange Days" album...great song). Weird. So busy for so long, a summer of activity upon activity and then...
silence.
The music stops. Album over. Better find something to listen to...something more upbeat, acoustic, folksy...the Good Old War, that's what I want...yeah. "I'm going to Coney Island to have myself a dog, and reminisce how i still hate it here. It's all these people with their Cotton Candy eyes, it's so sweet now put the train in gear." Funny, I don't hate it here...I love it here in fact, I enjoy it to the very utmost. I love the people, their sincerity and honesty. It is too easy to talk with "Cotton Candy" eyes, offering sweets instead of substance, fluff instead of stuff, a muffled "fine" rather than a heavy sigh. I love the beach; the many late afternoon runs to the beach, walking across the silky yet sturdy sand during low tide while splashing along the shore during the high tide..."
Sorry, I was just interrupted. A church member looking for John, he commented on how he enjoyed my sermon Sunday, how comfortable I seemed and how it should reach to a younger generation. This summer Hana and I have talked often on the horrid task of accepting compliments, it's hard to say the least. After all, all we as Christians can desire it to be merely vessels...we call this humility. Yet, are we sufficiently accepting God's grace and glory when we constantly, without thought, divert positive re-enforcement and thanks from those around us towards Him without mention of ourselves? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Blake Jurgens deserves endless praise and worship...but aren't the Blake Jurgens, the Hana Smiths, the Nick Baas and Brandon Haans, the Nate Doors and the John Debraskys, the AJs, Jennas, and all those others, aren't they, body and soul, created to glorify their creator though their freedom to worship thru their abilities and talents? That's hard, to affirm God's grace while accepting the praise of our humanity; a much harder task to maintain God's work, our humility as vessels, and our autonomy as His creation. Does our conformity to Christ allow emphasis on our gifts and our role in His redemptive purposes? Can a child accept thanks for His father's work? Maybe our feeble scribbles and scratches are worth more than we realize, and just maybe, perhaps, our work in this world is more than just acting as a mere puppet, but rather a child, watching his or her ma or pa, picking up bit by bit the trade they passed onto them.
Back to typing. I like that here. Easy-going, patient, agendas and calenders are suggestion or emphasised suggestion, but never a solid, concrete barrier or restriction. It's Christ-like. After all, Jesus NEVER emphasised that his schedule was too busy to love, to full to heal, to complicated and exhausting to teach. Though he was always on His way to Jerusalem, He always watched the side of the road, searching for those who needed His love for no other reason than He loved them first. What if we, as Christians, put away our agenda and conceptions of our lives for just a few seconds and allowed ourselves to envision to roadsides, the leper colonies, the empty and distraught places and the driest of deserts. Is it too much to ask that Christianity be a religion based on relationship-spontaneity? That we, as Christians, throw aside our schedules and pick up our hearts out of our bags as we pull off our bluetooth headsets and turn our phones to vibrate. Is it possible that we have been sucked into the world and in the midst of worrying about adapting to a sick and depraved culture, worrying about music with naughty words and bad movies, political images and all that such, that we have become like the world in the sense that we are little more than consumers consuming rather than reformers always reforming? That we are, in the midst of the morning commute, the afternoon business meetings, and our social conformity, that we have become exactly what Christ warned us not to become, even as we, with near-unnecessary fervor, protest abortion, perverted sexuality, and other 'hot topics'?
I spilled melted butter on my pants this morning; slid right off my bagel. Drat. I tried warm water and no difference. The Lemon Pledge looked promising...and it was. The stains are gone. How simple it is to wash stains away when you use the right tools.
Is Christianity washing away the stains of Christ? Do we go through life not noticing that the very stains that set us free from bondage to sin are now the very stains we are trying to wash away? Humanity is wounded, imperfect, fallen. It is there, in those empty rotting wounds that Christ fits the best, He fills such space and will further when we close our eyes the final time. Why then are we trying to cover these wounds up with bandage and attempt limping through life screaming out in our pain "I'm fine, I swear!" Can it be true that to be most Christ-like is to be most-broken and ravaged with sin? Can being in conformity with Christ mean such freedom? We all want to be free; free from discrimination, free from laws and decrees, and often we say we want freedom from sin. We want freedom, or so we think...yet, when Christ offers such deep freedom we deny it. We never truly want such freedom, we do not care to be open with our deepest wounds and sin, and in that quick moment of isolation and individuality we instantly hide ourselves from His light, and we shackle ourselves.
Christians want freedom. Any Christian who asks for such freedom needs to know that this freedom is the hardest freedom you will ever have. It will force you to admit your stumbles, it will push you towards choices you would never care to make, it kick you to be open even in the most uncomfortable situations. This freedom will force you to share your home with the inhospitable, to hug those you could care less to hug, to forgive over and over for the same mistakes, and to admit the gaping holes within our cavities and hidden places to complete strangers. Did not Jesus, in his freedom, seek not a political kingdom, nor a society of monks, or even an army of hardened soldiers and dry and cracking hearts. No, in His freedom he marched towards a cross and the scorn of humanity. He disappointed men! He took dreams and visions of a political and religious Messiah and dashed them and did what a rebel and revolutionary should never do; he let himself be killed a sinner's death. In His freedom he allowed himself to be chained to the sufferings of the world and in that act he most freely loved us. Our freedom in Christ is only fulfilled when we chain ourselves to such acts of love, giving ourselves and our wounds in order to assist His lost children, wandering and searching for a place to call home.
Ok, time for lunch. Hopefully a run later on. Thanks for stopping by"
God is love.
Therefore, we must be so too.
Pray.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Sunday Morning...
Finished my first big-people church sermon 35 minutes ago.
Round 2 coming in about 11 minutes.
God's grace is good.
Powerpoint and headset microphones not so much : )
But God's grace is still king...hands down.
God is good. Life is good. I am SO lucky to be me. My prayer is this;
May God continue to make me more a person
less an individual.
May I preach with conviction
speak with hope
and radiate with love.
May His plan be set first
and may my shortcomings pale in comparison to His greatness.
May my successes lift His kingdom up
and may even my failures draw His kingdom closer.
Amen
Round 2 coming in about 11 minutes.
God's grace is good.
Powerpoint and headset microphones not so much : )
But God's grace is still king...hands down.
God is good. Life is good. I am SO lucky to be me. My prayer is this;
May God continue to make me more a person
less an individual.
May I preach with conviction
speak with hope
and radiate with love.
May His plan be set first
and may my shortcomings pale in comparison to His greatness.
May my successes lift His kingdom up
and may even my failures draw His kingdom closer.
Amen
Friday, August 7, 2009
Stirrups
Little things matter, a lot.
I think it was C.S. Lewis who said that minute and miniature actions of grace are not merely added together, rather they multiply exponentially.
So often we're worrying about the big things. We wish so dearly to do the big things well, to the very edge of perfection. Yet, when it comes to the tiny things, the behind-the-scenes moments, the dirty jobs, the non-recognized acts of service, we often seem to...well...drag our feet. It's been really easy to take care of the big things here at Grace. Really easy. Sure, there's a lot of work involved in planning and teaching a small group leadership class, organizing and leading worship for Sunday morning, or carefully exegeting and artfully crafting the words of a sermon. They're work, don't get me wrong, but it's illustrious work, important work.
Big people work.
But what about the little things? What about changing the rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom stalls? How about changing church banners or moving a shed? What about taking 10 minutes from a semi-busy afternoon to talk to a group of pre-teen boys?
Our economy of actions is of this kingdom. However, our currency and credit of action is severely distorted when it comes to the truest picture of the near-infinite universe of possibility and action. Have you ever thought about how even the smallest change in history could have dire consequences today? Take this for example; what is the greatest and most influential invention in the history of man...the light bulb?...the telephone?...how about anesthetic?
Try stirrups.
In the 11th century William the Conqueror had invaded England, fighting in a war that seemed a lost cause at best. After all, his troops were outnumbered almost 3 to 1, the terrain was vast and left his men exhausted from travel, and to make it worse they were on an island with no easy access to new supplies. Watching the fighting from a distance, he noticed that his men were often falling off their horses from the sheer jarring of hurled rocks and banging swords. That night in the camp, he called together some of his military strategists and had them construct a harness place across the horse with some sort of attachment device in order to anchor one's feet into their horse. And so, the stirrup was created.
Big deal.
Well, it was this new ability to stay on their horses that changed the tides of war. William's forces were victorious and subdued the native people. From there, they began inhabiting the island soon to be called England. It was there that William began the building of an empire which soon grew to prevalent force in the centuries to follow. It was this nation that eventually went to colonize a new world across the ocean. A land we call America. What does this mean?
The narrative known as world history was changed by stirrups.
Little things matter. How will it change us someday to look around heaven and see the janitors and carpenters, the bus drivers and fishermen, the stay-at-home moms and garbage men, who will be wearing the brightest of crowns. Their work may have seemed small, insignificant, pointless...but how little actions have changed the world!!! Even the simplist of bathroom cleaners may be the vessel of grace who has brought thousands to Christ.
And we call preaching and worship leading ministry!!!
You're important. What you do matters.
Especially if it is not you, but Christ within you.
Home in 11 days. : ) hope to see you soon!
I think it was C.S. Lewis who said that minute and miniature actions of grace are not merely added together, rather they multiply exponentially.
So often we're worrying about the big things. We wish so dearly to do the big things well, to the very edge of perfection. Yet, when it comes to the tiny things, the behind-the-scenes moments, the dirty jobs, the non-recognized acts of service, we often seem to...well...drag our feet. It's been really easy to take care of the big things here at Grace. Really easy. Sure, there's a lot of work involved in planning and teaching a small group leadership class, organizing and leading worship for Sunday morning, or carefully exegeting and artfully crafting the words of a sermon. They're work, don't get me wrong, but it's illustrious work, important work.
Big people work.
But what about the little things? What about changing the rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom stalls? How about changing church banners or moving a shed? What about taking 10 minutes from a semi-busy afternoon to talk to a group of pre-teen boys?
Our economy of actions is of this kingdom. However, our currency and credit of action is severely distorted when it comes to the truest picture of the near-infinite universe of possibility and action. Have you ever thought about how even the smallest change in history could have dire consequences today? Take this for example; what is the greatest and most influential invention in the history of man...the light bulb?...the telephone?...how about anesthetic?
Try stirrups.
In the 11th century William the Conqueror had invaded England, fighting in a war that seemed a lost cause at best. After all, his troops were outnumbered almost 3 to 1, the terrain was vast and left his men exhausted from travel, and to make it worse they were on an island with no easy access to new supplies. Watching the fighting from a distance, he noticed that his men were often falling off their horses from the sheer jarring of hurled rocks and banging swords. That night in the camp, he called together some of his military strategists and had them construct a harness place across the horse with some sort of attachment device in order to anchor one's feet into their horse. And so, the stirrup was created.
Big deal.
Well, it was this new ability to stay on their horses that changed the tides of war. William's forces were victorious and subdued the native people. From there, they began inhabiting the island soon to be called England. It was there that William began the building of an empire which soon grew to prevalent force in the centuries to follow. It was this nation that eventually went to colonize a new world across the ocean. A land we call America. What does this mean?
The narrative known as world history was changed by stirrups.
Little things matter. How will it change us someday to look around heaven and see the janitors and carpenters, the bus drivers and fishermen, the stay-at-home moms and garbage men, who will be wearing the brightest of crowns. Their work may have seemed small, insignificant, pointless...but how little actions have changed the world!!! Even the simplist of bathroom cleaners may be the vessel of grace who has brought thousands to Christ.
And we call preaching and worship leading ministry!!!
You're important. What you do matters.
Especially if it is not you, but Christ within you.
Home in 11 days. : ) hope to see you soon!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Touching
Last night I was at a young adult Bible study, talking about Jesus and his interaction with a leper. Here's a man; an outcast, ostracized from society due to his wretched condition, a man who had little contact with his loved ones, in fact, the only people lepers talked with were really other lepers. So what does Jesus do. He doesn't just heal him, no, he goes beyond that, way beyond that.
He loves him.
He extends his hands and touches him (Mark 1:41) and feels compassion for the man. The Greek word is splagchnizomai literally means 'to have one's intestine's wrung / twisted'. You see, ancient anatomy concluded that the center of one's empathetic feelings was in their intestines and lower organs. It makes sense, after all, whenever we feel utter sorrow or sympathy for someone a heavy weight seems to press upon our chest, jerking our insides around (a broken heart, so to say.)
Jesus didn't just heal as a publicity stunt. He didn't visit the sick, the lame, the depressed and the isolated merely to satisfy some superiority complex or to prove something to anyone. If anything, Christ did not come to make himself something exquisite or admirable; He came to make himself nothing, taking on not simply the appearance but the form of a slave (Philippians 2:6-9). Not only that, he touches the man. Jesus touches him. Have you ever just needed to be touched? To be hugged, to have your back scratched or your hand held? To have your arm squeezed or your cheek kissed? For years this leper had been avoided, isolated, and pushed to the very outskirts of society. To be touched and to desire to be touched is to be human. Anyone doctor or nurse can prescribe pills, treatments, or surgeries for aches, pains, and illnesses. But in the midst of the medical miracles of our current age, we've ignored what it really means to heal, to cleanse, to care with genuine sincerity.
We need to touch people. We need to be wrung with compassion. We need to love them.
I've been here in Hilton Head eight weeks and it's been an amazing 8 weeks. To summarize it all with a list of pragmatic and concrete activities I've participated would be looking past what I was supposed to be learning; how to touch, how to love. What is love?
-Love is a 48 year old man driving 9 hours to labor his entire weekend around a run down house fixing toilets and sinks and other odds and ends, and then driving 9 hours back...for his ex-wife.
-Love is a woman known for her quick-temper and indignant attitude who, in the midst of caring for her 94 year old bed-ridden mother for the last two years, has discovered a patience and Christ-like heart that she had been searching for the last 30 years.
-Love is a college graduate who, instead of teaching in a cushy public or Christian high school here, takes a drastic pay cut in order to spend the year in Jordan teaching missionary kids, spending 8 months away from her family, friends, and loved ones...and she leaves again Monday for another year!
-Love is a community who, in the death of one of their patriarchs, comes together to love a family grieving.
-Love is man who teaches financial security to people in a hurting economy...and not only that practices what he preaches; trading utter wealth in order to better offer what has been given to him back to his Lord and Savior.
What does our society need? It needs touchers. It needs lovers. We can always find another doctor, another chef, another airline pilot, novelist, or musical stand-out (much less another pastor!). It needs professional, full-time lovers who go the extra mile through thick and thin, storm and sleet, tragedy and lack of comfort, in order to be Jesus to those who need him.
The truth is this; Our hearts are dried-up yards covered in crab grass and dandelions well past decay. We are soiled in filth and decorated in the rusted toys and cracked ornaments of our yesteryears. We are dry, decrepit, lifeless. We have histories, we have wretched pasts, we have unkempt bushes and overgrown trees. We are in a terrible state and in no way are the gardens of paradise our Creator has intended us to be. But rain comes and the sun rises as the clouds roll away; our Heavenly Father nourishes us to be fertile and green, lush and crisp, the smell of violets and orchids floating across our multitude of dark green blades. The question is this; have we opened our newly cleansed and redeemed hearts for the lonesome children of this world to have sanctuary for play or have we locked the gate and placed our "Do Not Walk On The Grass" signs across the perimeter to protect our precious resource? Are we keeping up our gardens for mere appearance or will we, dare I say it, allow our lawns to be ravaged by any heavy soul who dares to come in? Do we dare allow our gates to be open? Do we dare risk loving only to watch our gardens becomes battlefields of utter suffering and distruction? Is not a garden meant to be enjoyed, a flower to be smelled, and patches of cool grass to be lain upon?
Let others in. Let others rest in your love, regardless of the danger they may bring with them.
A garden is meant to be enjoyed. A heart is meant to be used and used frequently.
Touch someone unlovable today, for we may be the ones who are hard to love.
God loves us. How can we not be joyful?
He loves him.
He extends his hands and touches him (Mark 1:41) and feels compassion for the man. The Greek word is splagchnizomai literally means 'to have one's intestine's wrung / twisted'. You see, ancient anatomy concluded that the center of one's empathetic feelings was in their intestines and lower organs. It makes sense, after all, whenever we feel utter sorrow or sympathy for someone a heavy weight seems to press upon our chest, jerking our insides around (a broken heart, so to say.)
Jesus didn't just heal as a publicity stunt. He didn't visit the sick, the lame, the depressed and the isolated merely to satisfy some superiority complex or to prove something to anyone. If anything, Christ did not come to make himself something exquisite or admirable; He came to make himself nothing, taking on not simply the appearance but the form of a slave (Philippians 2:6-9). Not only that, he touches the man. Jesus touches him. Have you ever just needed to be touched? To be hugged, to have your back scratched or your hand held? To have your arm squeezed or your cheek kissed? For years this leper had been avoided, isolated, and pushed to the very outskirts of society. To be touched and to desire to be touched is to be human. Anyone doctor or nurse can prescribe pills, treatments, or surgeries for aches, pains, and illnesses. But in the midst of the medical miracles of our current age, we've ignored what it really means to heal, to cleanse, to care with genuine sincerity.
We need to touch people. We need to be wrung with compassion. We need to love them.
I've been here in Hilton Head eight weeks and it's been an amazing 8 weeks. To summarize it all with a list of pragmatic and concrete activities I've participated would be looking past what I was supposed to be learning; how to touch, how to love. What is love?
-Love is a 48 year old man driving 9 hours to labor his entire weekend around a run down house fixing toilets and sinks and other odds and ends, and then driving 9 hours back...for his ex-wife.
-Love is a woman known for her quick-temper and indignant attitude who, in the midst of caring for her 94 year old bed-ridden mother for the last two years, has discovered a patience and Christ-like heart that she had been searching for the last 30 years.
-Love is a college graduate who, instead of teaching in a cushy public or Christian high school here, takes a drastic pay cut in order to spend the year in Jordan teaching missionary kids, spending 8 months away from her family, friends, and loved ones...and she leaves again Monday for another year!
-Love is a community who, in the death of one of their patriarchs, comes together to love a family grieving.
-Love is man who teaches financial security to people in a hurting economy...and not only that practices what he preaches; trading utter wealth in order to better offer what has been given to him back to his Lord and Savior.
What does our society need? It needs touchers. It needs lovers. We can always find another doctor, another chef, another airline pilot, novelist, or musical stand-out (much less another pastor!). It needs professional, full-time lovers who go the extra mile through thick and thin, storm and sleet, tragedy and lack of comfort, in order to be Jesus to those who need him.
The truth is this; Our hearts are dried-up yards covered in crab grass and dandelions well past decay. We are soiled in filth and decorated in the rusted toys and cracked ornaments of our yesteryears. We are dry, decrepit, lifeless. We have histories, we have wretched pasts, we have unkempt bushes and overgrown trees. We are in a terrible state and in no way are the gardens of paradise our Creator has intended us to be. But rain comes and the sun rises as the clouds roll away; our Heavenly Father nourishes us to be fertile and green, lush and crisp, the smell of violets and orchids floating across our multitude of dark green blades. The question is this; have we opened our newly cleansed and redeemed hearts for the lonesome children of this world to have sanctuary for play or have we locked the gate and placed our "Do Not Walk On The Grass" signs across the perimeter to protect our precious resource? Are we keeping up our gardens for mere appearance or will we, dare I say it, allow our lawns to be ravaged by any heavy soul who dares to come in? Do we dare allow our gates to be open? Do we dare risk loving only to watch our gardens becomes battlefields of utter suffering and distruction? Is not a garden meant to be enjoyed, a flower to be smelled, and patches of cool grass to be lain upon?
Let others in. Let others rest in your love, regardless of the danger they may bring with them.
A garden is meant to be enjoyed. A heart is meant to be used and used frequently.
Touch someone unlovable today, for we may be the ones who are hard to love.
God loves us. How can we not be joyful?
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