"Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:17)
Between bursts of rain drops and gusts of wind this past week, my husband and I did some work around the house, getting ready for flowers and mulching. Pulling the incessant supply of weeds from the flowerbeds is, believe it or not, an activity I enjoy. It gets me outside in the fresh air doing something at my own pace that takes very little know-how. Mostly, however, I enjoy it because it reminds me of a glimpse of God’s kingdom I once witnessed while weeding my garden.
When my daughter was around two years old, she and I were outside on a sunny summer afternoon. While I pulled weeds, she played happily with her miniature garden set in the dirt nearby. In the midst of humming and digging with her little spade, she abruptly stopped what she was doing, turned around and looked beyond our backyard. She waved once and said, "Hi Great-Grandpa!" The words stunned me, since at the time she had one living great-grandfather in another state whom she had never met. I looked in the general direction of her gaze, expecting to see someone – our elderly neighbor, perhaps – that could cause her to say such a thing. Instead, I saw only grass and trees. I turned back to her and marveled at the wonder and intensity in her gaze – she was utterly absorbed in what she saw. She sat that way for a moment longer and then just as abruptly turned back to humming and digging in the dirt, as if nothing had happened.
Although I tried in my humanness to come up with a "logical" explanation, I already knew. Not only did I believe that my daughter had seen the spirit of one of her great-grandfathers, I instinctively knew that it was the specific spirit of her paternal great-grandfather who had died nearly twenty years before she was even born. I had never met him, but I’ve been told that he was a wonderful, godly man. My instinct was confirmed a week or so later, when my daughter pointed to a picture of my husband’s grandpa in my in-laws’ house and said, "There’s Great-Grandpa."
There is something to be said for the faith of a child, isn’t there? God understands it perfectly well. Whereas I sought a logical, understandable explanation for my daughter’s actions, she simply embraced the encounter with her loved one as normal. She was not surprised, frightened, or otherwise jarred by the experience. It was simply a part of her summer afternoon. There’s no telling the miraculous things we could experience if only we simply accept the sovereign power and presence of our Lord in our midst, rather than explaining Him away by our imperfect logic.
As the earth comes alive this spring, let us remember that the Lord has a handle on the complex. We need only concern ourselves with the simple fact that God is God. He always has been and He always will be. Accepting that simple truth makes the miraculous not only possible, but normal for a child of God.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Majoring in Christ
Our life is lived by faith. We do not live by what we see in front of us. (2 Corinthians 5:7)
Last night, someone on a TV commercial said to his infant child, "You ARE going to college when you grow up." I asked my six year-old if she wanted to go to college (as if she truly understands what college is), to which she said she did. When I asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, she shrugged at first and then said she wants to be a teacher. It made me wonder...what do I want to be when I grow up?
I've worked with literally hundreds of college-aged volunteers who faced the daunting challenge of trying to answer that question. Some had always known what they wanted to be, while others were facing graduation without a clue. Still others chose to follow in the path their parents had established for them, whether they liked it or not. I changed my major in college no less than five times. What I told many of these volunteers over the years is that if you have a specific dream that you're passionate about, work hard and go after it. But try to avoid putting all your eggs in one basket, even if it's something you think you'll want to do the rest of your life. I'm living proof that your interests change with time, you add skills with age, and you discover talents along the way that you never knew you had. In the midst of those discoveries, life often has a way of throwing us curveballs that force a change in plans.
Like most adults who've been in the working world for a while, I've discovered a handful of specific things about myself that I'm both good at and interested in. The same goes for my personal hobbies and interests. I have no doubt that my list of such things will continue to evolve. This natural flux in life used to feel like something to be feared, but in reality, it is something to embrace. Think how life would be if we were forced to live forever with a finite plan we created for ourselves at age 18, when our understanding of the world and all that's in it is so limited. It's a scary thought, isn't it?
Whatever age we are, we can continue to learn, to grow and to change who we are and what we do. It doesn't matter what our diploma or resume say, if we have those things at all. The key ingredient is a solid foundation in Christ. If we strive to live out our daily lives by walking in faith, our path will be made known to us. God will unearth the talents He gave us at just the right time, so we will blossom in His will. We are free to pursue our intellectual interests and the desires of our hearts, but true success will be realized when we allow God to be our advisor.
What do you want to be when you grow up? If you're like me and you still don't know, that's okay. If we declare our major in Christ, we can't go wrong. Our opportunities are endless.
Last night, someone on a TV commercial said to his infant child, "You ARE going to college when you grow up." I asked my six year-old if she wanted to go to college (as if she truly understands what college is), to which she said she did. When I asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, she shrugged at first and then said she wants to be a teacher. It made me wonder...what do I want to be when I grow up?
I've worked with literally hundreds of college-aged volunteers who faced the daunting challenge of trying to answer that question. Some had always known what they wanted to be, while others were facing graduation without a clue. Still others chose to follow in the path their parents had established for them, whether they liked it or not. I changed my major in college no less than five times. What I told many of these volunteers over the years is that if you have a specific dream that you're passionate about, work hard and go after it. But try to avoid putting all your eggs in one basket, even if it's something you think you'll want to do the rest of your life. I'm living proof that your interests change with time, you add skills with age, and you discover talents along the way that you never knew you had. In the midst of those discoveries, life often has a way of throwing us curveballs that force a change in plans.
Like most adults who've been in the working world for a while, I've discovered a handful of specific things about myself that I'm both good at and interested in. The same goes for my personal hobbies and interests. I have no doubt that my list of such things will continue to evolve. This natural flux in life used to feel like something to be feared, but in reality, it is something to embrace. Think how life would be if we were forced to live forever with a finite plan we created for ourselves at age 18, when our understanding of the world and all that's in it is so limited. It's a scary thought, isn't it?
Whatever age we are, we can continue to learn, to grow and to change who we are and what we do. It doesn't matter what our diploma or resume say, if we have those things at all. The key ingredient is a solid foundation in Christ. If we strive to live out our daily lives by walking in faith, our path will be made known to us. God will unearth the talents He gave us at just the right time, so we will blossom in His will. We are free to pursue our intellectual interests and the desires of our hearts, but true success will be realized when we allow God to be our advisor.
What do you want to be when you grow up? If you're like me and you still don't know, that's okay. If we declare our major in Christ, we can't go wrong. Our opportunities are endless.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Fruit of the Free
My lips will call out for joy when I sing praises to You. You have set my soul free. (Psalm 71:23)
There are many things that cause us to feel joy, including loving family relationships, a devoted spouse, children, the spendor of nature. But I have not yet found anything more joyous than the love of God through His risen Son. With each passing year, I find an indescribable thankfulness for my salvation, and a bone-deep commitment to and contentment with the love of Christ.
In August of last year, I recall reading through misty eyes the story of Ameneh Bahrami, an Iranian woman who had suffered severe burns, blindness and disfigurement as a result of a 2004 attack in which acid was thrown onto her face. The man responsible for the attack, Majid Movahedi, had reacted in anger when Bahrami had refused his proposal of marriage. Movahedi was found guilty of the offense and under Iran's "eye for an eye" justice system, he faced a terrible sentence: a doctor was to put a few drops of acid into his eye. At first, Bahrami supported the sentence, but at the last moment she pleaded for her attacker to be spared, saying "I forgave him, I forgave him!" When later asked about the basis for her change of heart, she stated, "It is best to pardon when you are in a position of power."
It is imperfect at best to compare the gift of our Lord Jesus on the cross with an act of mercy by sinful people, but I can't help but to think of it: Imagine if Jesus, the Son of the Most Powerful, had opted to exact an "eye for an eye" justice for all the sins we have committed (and will commit). Imagine if He had replaced the crucifixion with a campaign of retribution. Instead, he willingly took the "acid in the eye" so we would not have to. While we were on death row, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.
While I have no way of knowing, I like to think that Majid Movahedi is now a faithful follower of Christ, having been spared a horrific punishment for his terrible crime based purely on the principle of forgiveness. I like to think that the tearful joy he expressed at being pardoned by the very person he had maimed has translated into a life based on love, compassion and forgiveness. When I think of what Jesus did for me - which far surpasses what this one Iranian woman did for the man who hurt her - I am grateful beyond measure, tearfully humbled, and joyously inspired to live by love and mercy.
If one woman can forgive a man who maimed her, then surely I can forgive another for harming me. If one woman can show mercy despite being empowered to exact revenge, then surely I can show mercy. If the very God whom I have offended countless times through my sins can forgive me and show me undeserved mercy through the sacrifice of His Son, then surely I can strive to honor Him by showing forgiveness and mercy to others. Such things are what true joy is made of. Such things are the fruit of a soul set free.
There are many things that cause us to feel joy, including loving family relationships, a devoted spouse, children, the spendor of nature. But I have not yet found anything more joyous than the love of God through His risen Son. With each passing year, I find an indescribable thankfulness for my salvation, and a bone-deep commitment to and contentment with the love of Christ.
In August of last year, I recall reading through misty eyes the story of Ameneh Bahrami, an Iranian woman who had suffered severe burns, blindness and disfigurement as a result of a 2004 attack in which acid was thrown onto her face. The man responsible for the attack, Majid Movahedi, had reacted in anger when Bahrami had refused his proposal of marriage. Movahedi was found guilty of the offense and under Iran's "eye for an eye" justice system, he faced a terrible sentence: a doctor was to put a few drops of acid into his eye. At first, Bahrami supported the sentence, but at the last moment she pleaded for her attacker to be spared, saying "I forgave him, I forgave him!" When later asked about the basis for her change of heart, she stated, "It is best to pardon when you are in a position of power."
It is imperfect at best to compare the gift of our Lord Jesus on the cross with an act of mercy by sinful people, but I can't help but to think of it: Imagine if Jesus, the Son of the Most Powerful, had opted to exact an "eye for an eye" justice for all the sins we have committed (and will commit). Imagine if He had replaced the crucifixion with a campaign of retribution. Instead, he willingly took the "acid in the eye" so we would not have to. While we were on death row, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.
While I have no way of knowing, I like to think that Majid Movahedi is now a faithful follower of Christ, having been spared a horrific punishment for his terrible crime based purely on the principle of forgiveness. I like to think that the tearful joy he expressed at being pardoned by the very person he had maimed has translated into a life based on love, compassion and forgiveness. When I think of what Jesus did for me - which far surpasses what this one Iranian woman did for the man who hurt her - I am grateful beyond measure, tearfully humbled, and joyously inspired to live by love and mercy.
If one woman can forgive a man who maimed her, then surely I can forgive another for harming me. If one woman can show mercy despite being empowered to exact revenge, then surely I can show mercy. If the very God whom I have offended countless times through my sins can forgive me and show me undeserved mercy through the sacrifice of His Son, then surely I can strive to honor Him by showing forgiveness and mercy to others. Such things are what true joy is made of. Such things are the fruit of a soul set free.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Autobiography of a Common Criminal
It figures that I would end up here, affixed to a cross of wood in front of this self-righteous, blood-thirsty mob. I’m surprised it took this long to stare death square in the face. Truth be told, I’ve been dying a slow, painful death long before I came to this place they call "the Skull." I am a wretched man, a criminal who has wasted the bulk of my life gratifying myself by cheating and hurting others. I’ve squandered so many opportunities to do the right thing, to love and honor the people in my life instead of using them. Oh, how I wish I could go back and change things, change myself. I am exactly where I deserve to be, dying this barbaric death with my shame exposed for all to see. There is nothing for me to do but hang here and die.
But there’s this man hanging next me on His own cross. They’ve beaten Him so severely I can barely tell that He’s a man at all. The riotous crowd is directing the bulk of its hatred toward Him, mocking Him as if His physical wounds aren’t punishment enough. I heard them chanting "king of the Jews," and that’s when I realized who He is. He’s the man called Jesus, the one who claims to be the very Son of God Himself. He has said that a home in heaven awaits those who trust in Him. The crowd and another criminal on the other side of Jesus are taunting and insulting Him. My heart breaks for Him. Isn’t He the one who’s been teaching the people to love one another? What did He ever do to deserve such punishment? He never cheated, stole, or hurt anyone the way I have, and yet He’s here with me, in far worse shape than I am. What gives them the right to do this to someone like Him?
It’s getting harder to breathe. It won’t be long now. My time is running out, like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. I don’t know how Jesus survived the beating He took before they nailed Him to the wood, but He’s still alive. He’s struggling pretty badly, so if I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. But how can I? How can I, a common criminal, request anything of someone so innocent in His final, agonizing moments? On the other hand, how can I not? This is my last chance to make things right, to have a chance at something beyond this garish place. Jesus said that He wants us to put our faith in Him. Is now too late? Does He have enough love and forgiveness left for me? Does He know how sorry I am for the mess I’ve made of my life, for the suffering I’ve caused? Does He believe that I want to be with Him? Is the very hour of my death too late to ask for life?
I don’t know if I have enough breath to make my voice work. The man on the other side of Jesus doesn’t seem to be having a problem. He keeps spitting insults. Something about his cruelty gives me the strength I need to speak and I say to him, "Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." I look from the criminal to Jesus, a lifetime of regret and an eternity of hope staring at the broken body of the King of the Jews. With all the energy left in my weary body, my voice speaks the pleading of my heart, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
The Son of God turns His head toward me, the crown of thorns digging ever deeper into His scalp. He is literally bathed in blood, a sight more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen. But then our eyes meet. Through the blood and anguish of human cruelty surrounding them, I see in His eyes the hope of generations, the very light of God staring back at me with a love I’ve never allowed myself to experience. Before He even speaks, even through the agony He is enduring, I see it in His eyes and for the first time, I know: He does love me. He does forgive me. I am more than what I have been. I am His. His swollen lips part and from the mouth of the Savior comes this blessed assurance:
"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
But there’s this man hanging next me on His own cross. They’ve beaten Him so severely I can barely tell that He’s a man at all. The riotous crowd is directing the bulk of its hatred toward Him, mocking Him as if His physical wounds aren’t punishment enough. I heard them chanting "king of the Jews," and that’s when I realized who He is. He’s the man called Jesus, the one who claims to be the very Son of God Himself. He has said that a home in heaven awaits those who trust in Him. The crowd and another criminal on the other side of Jesus are taunting and insulting Him. My heart breaks for Him. Isn’t He the one who’s been teaching the people to love one another? What did He ever do to deserve such punishment? He never cheated, stole, or hurt anyone the way I have, and yet He’s here with me, in far worse shape than I am. What gives them the right to do this to someone like Him?
It’s getting harder to breathe. It won’t be long now. My time is running out, like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. I don’t know how Jesus survived the beating He took before they nailed Him to the wood, but He’s still alive. He’s struggling pretty badly, so if I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. But how can I? How can I, a common criminal, request anything of someone so innocent in His final, agonizing moments? On the other hand, how can I not? This is my last chance to make things right, to have a chance at something beyond this garish place. Jesus said that He wants us to put our faith in Him. Is now too late? Does He have enough love and forgiveness left for me? Does He know how sorry I am for the mess I’ve made of my life, for the suffering I’ve caused? Does He believe that I want to be with Him? Is the very hour of my death too late to ask for life?
I don’t know if I have enough breath to make my voice work. The man on the other side of Jesus doesn’t seem to be having a problem. He keeps spitting insults. Something about his cruelty gives me the strength I need to speak and I say to him, "Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." I look from the criminal to Jesus, a lifetime of regret and an eternity of hope staring at the broken body of the King of the Jews. With all the energy left in my weary body, my voice speaks the pleading of my heart, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
The Son of God turns His head toward me, the crown of thorns digging ever deeper into His scalp. He is literally bathed in blood, a sight more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen. But then our eyes meet. Through the blood and anguish of human cruelty surrounding them, I see in His eyes the hope of generations, the very light of God staring back at me with a love I’ve never allowed myself to experience. Before He even speaks, even through the agony He is enduring, I see it in His eyes and for the first time, I know: He does love me. He does forgive me. I am more than what I have been. I am His. His swollen lips part and from the mouth of the Savior comes this blessed assurance:
"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."
Monday, April 2, 2012
The Power of Choice
The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, "Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews." Pilate answered, "What I have written, I have written." (John 19:21-22)
It’s impossible to consider the crucifixion without considering the thoughts and actions of Pontius Pilate, the governor who sentenced Jesus to death. From our vantage point as faithful followers of Christ in the year 2012, it’s easy for us to demonize Pilate and all the others involved in the crucifixion. But can we not for a moment step into the shoes of those in positions of authority at the time?
Lest I create a firestorm of controversy during Holy Week, I am not downplaying Pilate’s responsibility in Christ’s crucifixion. He had the power to spare the life of God’s own Son, the only truly innocent man ever to exist, and he chose not to. Pilate was corrupted by power, a slave to status, swayed by the political and cultural whims of his time – not at all unlike many leaders of today. It is often argued that Pilate was simply carrying out a very integral part of God’s plan. While that is true, it’s not because God forced Pilate to sentence Jesus to death; rather, God knew that Pilate would ultimately make that choice. Just as God uses all of our choices to accomplish His will, so too did He use Pilate’s choice. But Pilate alone was responsible for the choice he made.
It is well documented in the gospels that Pilate did not want the responsibility of sentencing Jesus to death. He stated several times that he could find no legal fault in Jesus, no crime that Jesus had committed. He was troubled by the fact that Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. His wife had warned him to leave Jesus alone, based on a disturbing dream she’d had. There was no legal basis for punishing Him. All things considered, it seemed like a no-brainer for Pilate to pardon the King of the Jews. He didn’t because he was as human as you and me.
All those in positions of power at the time felt threatened by Jesus and what He had been teaching. The chief priests were not about to pass up this golden opportunity to finally get rid of Jesus. Pilate sentenced Jesus to die, literally washed his hands, and passed the buck to the riotous mob. I believe he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he was too intimidated, too mired in self-preservation to do what was right. He tried to convince himself that he had no choice but to appease the crowd and that Jesus’ blood was on their hands, not his. We can call Pilate a deluded coward, but how often have fear, peer pressure, or threats to our power or status influenced our own decisions?
I find the above passages from John fascinating. Did Pilate simply make a mistake with the wording, or was it intentional? If it was intentional, was it another way of placing blame on the crowd? Or was it a last-ditch attempt to quiet his conscience by declaring the truth about who Jesus was? When questioned about his omission of the phrase "claimed to be," Pilate could have answered by saying, "Oops – my bad!" He didn’t. Sometimes what is not said speaks volumes.
Regardless of the motivation behind them, Pilate alone was responsible for his choices. Despite logic and a nagging conscience telling him it was wrong, he nonetheless chose of his own free will to sentence Christ to death. That is certainly not something I would want to be known for, but I am far from innocent. Through my own sinful choices in life, I contributed to the suffering of Christ on the cross. A prickly point in the crown of thorns, a slash from the flogger, a slap to the face, a nail through tender flesh…these have my name on them. I deserve to bear the punishment for my sins, to spend eternity separated from God. Mercifully, Jesus took my place, sparing me from such an awful fate. Why? Because God also makes choices.
God chose to save us from ourselves through the sacrifice of His beloved Son. Let us honor His choice by choosing Him in all that we do.
It’s impossible to consider the crucifixion without considering the thoughts and actions of Pontius Pilate, the governor who sentenced Jesus to death. From our vantage point as faithful followers of Christ in the year 2012, it’s easy for us to demonize Pilate and all the others involved in the crucifixion. But can we not for a moment step into the shoes of those in positions of authority at the time?
Lest I create a firestorm of controversy during Holy Week, I am not downplaying Pilate’s responsibility in Christ’s crucifixion. He had the power to spare the life of God’s own Son, the only truly innocent man ever to exist, and he chose not to. Pilate was corrupted by power, a slave to status, swayed by the political and cultural whims of his time – not at all unlike many leaders of today. It is often argued that Pilate was simply carrying out a very integral part of God’s plan. While that is true, it’s not because God forced Pilate to sentence Jesus to death; rather, God knew that Pilate would ultimately make that choice. Just as God uses all of our choices to accomplish His will, so too did He use Pilate’s choice. But Pilate alone was responsible for the choice he made.
It is well documented in the gospels that Pilate did not want the responsibility of sentencing Jesus to death. He stated several times that he could find no legal fault in Jesus, no crime that Jesus had committed. He was troubled by the fact that Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. His wife had warned him to leave Jesus alone, based on a disturbing dream she’d had. There was no legal basis for punishing Him. All things considered, it seemed like a no-brainer for Pilate to pardon the King of the Jews. He didn’t because he was as human as you and me.
All those in positions of power at the time felt threatened by Jesus and what He had been teaching. The chief priests were not about to pass up this golden opportunity to finally get rid of Jesus. Pilate sentenced Jesus to die, literally washed his hands, and passed the buck to the riotous mob. I believe he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he was too intimidated, too mired in self-preservation to do what was right. He tried to convince himself that he had no choice but to appease the crowd and that Jesus’ blood was on their hands, not his. We can call Pilate a deluded coward, but how often have fear, peer pressure, or threats to our power or status influenced our own decisions?
I find the above passages from John fascinating. Did Pilate simply make a mistake with the wording, or was it intentional? If it was intentional, was it another way of placing blame on the crowd? Or was it a last-ditch attempt to quiet his conscience by declaring the truth about who Jesus was? When questioned about his omission of the phrase "claimed to be," Pilate could have answered by saying, "Oops – my bad!" He didn’t. Sometimes what is not said speaks volumes.
Regardless of the motivation behind them, Pilate alone was responsible for his choices. Despite logic and a nagging conscience telling him it was wrong, he nonetheless chose of his own free will to sentence Christ to death. That is certainly not something I would want to be known for, but I am far from innocent. Through my own sinful choices in life, I contributed to the suffering of Christ on the cross. A prickly point in the crown of thorns, a slash from the flogger, a slap to the face, a nail through tender flesh…these have my name on them. I deserve to bear the punishment for my sins, to spend eternity separated from God. Mercifully, Jesus took my place, sparing me from such an awful fate. Why? Because God also makes choices.
God chose to save us from ourselves through the sacrifice of His beloved Son. Let us honor His choice by choosing Him in all that we do.
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