In one sense of the word, we can measure the cost of freedom by counting our dead, which total nearly 650,000 since our War of Independence. 2/3 of a million people have died to preserve our freedoms, and millions more paid dearly as well. Some of our warriors were gung-ho, some were reluctant; some did what they had to do, some went beyond the call of duty.... but they all died for a cause greater than themselves. Some of them had great faith, some of them struggled with it, and some of them didn't have any faith at all... but they all believed that freedom was something worth fighting for, suffering for, and dying for. We've buried a lot of heroes, but the cost of freedom also includes millions of children who grew up without a dad... or with dads who were never quite the same. My father fought in WWII. He flew a transport plane to the battle lines and he carried men back to England. He helped liberate those enslaved in concentration camps, and he lost a Co-Pilot, named Kenny. He was not "wounded" in battle, but some part of him died in Europe... and the same thing can be said for all of the others! Praise God for every hero who was willing to die so that we could live free! Decorate their graves, give them honor flights, wave your flags, sing your songs, salute them when the march by, and thank them when you can.
Indeed, we are free from those who would've taken our way of life away. We're free to vote for whomever we please, or to not vote at all. We're free to worship in any church that will let us in, or to not worship at all. We can go whenever we want, live anywhere we choose, and even write a blog if the thought crosses our mind... but we will never be truly free... until we entrust our lives to God. We will never be really free until we "let go" and "let God," because until we take this leap of faith... we will forever be slaves to self! As the poet said, "you gotta serve somebody." It may be the Lord, it may be the Devil, it may be the trinkets that we've accumulated... but we've gotta' serve somebody... and for most of us, that somebody is SELF, who is number one from the get-go... to our dying day.
We worship the "Omnipotent Baby" within. We do his or her bidding throughout our lives, and we never quite outgrow our need to be at the center of our world. We're prone to worship the child within us... and to fit everything else into that child's agenda. Whether we're religious or not, our own will outweighs God's will for us, and even those of us who worship God or gold... do so on our own terms. We can come and go and vote and protest... but we are imprisoned by our fears, our sins, our secrets, and our self interests. We are slaves to self, and until we get free, we will never know the joy of being loved unconditionally... or the unbridled freedom that comes from being forgiven entirely! We're imprisoned to self and no matter how hard we try, we cannot set ourselves free... because we can never start entirely anew... or save ourselves!
Only a God can do that! Only a powerful and loving God can do that... and here's the good news: HE HAS! He's already set us free from self and sin, and he's already forgiven our sins- the big ones, the little ones, the accidental ones, the intentional ones. Come, he said, if you're heavy laden, if you're tired of pretending, if you're tired of blustering, bluffing, and dodging, if you're fed up with your empty search to find purpose and fulfillment... come to me, and I will set you free! Deep down, we are not free. We're enslaved by our own desires, fears, expectations, and sin, and these demons, more than any outside dictator, will be the death of us. This is the truth of it... but there is a much greater truth, and it is this: that God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to live with beauty and grace in our midst... and to hang on Calvary's Cross for our sins- and that he rose on the 3rd day in victory over both death and sin. He is the Savior of the world. He is the truth, and the truth will set us free. Take a step now, then a leap. of faith, and experience complete freedom! Turn to Jesus! After all, as he bled and died, he understood that freedom is the costliest thing on earth... and in heaven! Amen.
PK IN SWEDEN
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Saturday, June 17, 2017
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY... DAD!
He would be nearly 100 now, and I wish he was here so that I could say, "Happy Father's Day," or "I love you," or simply, "goodbye."
He died suddenly, with a massive heart attack, on July 11, 1977, and I wasn't there. My not being there was not surprising... because I was busy trying to make a name for myself (just as he had done). Besides, the unpredictability of either one of my parent's moods kept me on edge, and dad and I never talked much anyway. It never seemed as if we had much to talk about. He loved hunting, but I loved golf. He worked with steel, but I pushed a pencil. He was a combat veteran, and I had not served at all. He loved to make things work, whereas I loved to think about them. He was a Tea Party member before its time, and I was a child of the 60's. I didn't know what to say to him and when we were growing up, he was seldom around the house anyway. He always seemed to be at "the plant," and when he did come home, he would often be very difficult to live with. When he entered the house, my brothers and I made ourselves scarce, and between his work schedule and his moods, I never felt entirely comfortable when I was around him. I often wished that I would've had a dad to play catch with, or one who would've listened to my worries and my dreams, but things just never turned out that way.
Therefore, we didn't talk much, and as the years passed, and we went our separate ways after Sherry and I moved to Omaha. Yet, I wish we would have spent more time with him and the rest of my family. I wish that things could have been different because I loved my father dearly... and I admired him in many ways. Like many of his peers, he only had an 8th grade education... but he was very bright. He had a quick wit, a wonderful sense of humor (he absolutely loved Red Skelton), a legendary work ethic, and a well-earned reputation of being a man people could trust. He also had an immense amount of courage...and almost frightening perseverance. In short, he was a man's man. He filled a room... and the record shows that he accomplished a lot, rising to the rank of VP and Co-Owner in the field that he chose.
He lived, it seems to me, in three worlds at the same time. At home, he seemed unhappy and at odds with my mother much of the time. At work, he was somebody important, who played a big role and cast a big shadow, and within himself, he carried the memories of the depression, the War, and any number of regrets, hopes, and wishes. Of course dad was somebody's child himself. He grew up in what seems to have been a stern and volatile household, and he was definitely affected by what he experienced in WWII (which he seldom mentioned at all.) He had seen too much death, experienced too much pain, and pushed himself to be more than he was able to handle at times. He played the cards that had been dealt to him with strength and courage, and he never complained about not being dealt the very best hand. This is the same thing I've tried to do in my life and in many ways, I am much like my dad... except that, when I hit bottom... I was blessed with a transforming grace... and he never had that experience. Grace. A second-chance. That's the only difference between us. Otherwise, I am pretty much a chip off the old block. Indeed, in many ways I wish I was even more like my dad. With a better hand and a moment of grace, dad could've done great things. There is not a doubt in my mind, but (like me) he needed an "unconditional hug." He needed to be known... and loved anyway.
This man... who once put his fist through a picture window, wrapped his own arm with his shirt, and then drove himself to the doctor... who lost a co-pilot and many of his buddies in the war... who loved to fill his house with laughter and friends- who had lost siblings and parents- who loved to play with his grandchildren and grill food for the whole family- who prayed to God when he picked up enemy fire during the War- who gave us everything he had to give... was my father... and I love him. His body is now resting next to my mother's, in the Masonic section of Highland Memory Gardens, grace 4, lot 170... which is not far from either one of the plants he used to run. I won't get there in person this year, so I will say it now: "Hello, dad. I hope you are at peace. I know you did the best you could. Happy Father's Day."
Your son,
Ken
He died suddenly, with a massive heart attack, on July 11, 1977, and I wasn't there. My not being there was not surprising... because I was busy trying to make a name for myself (just as he had done). Besides, the unpredictability of either one of my parent's moods kept me on edge, and dad and I never talked much anyway. It never seemed as if we had much to talk about. He loved hunting, but I loved golf. He worked with steel, but I pushed a pencil. He was a combat veteran, and I had not served at all. He loved to make things work, whereas I loved to think about them. He was a Tea Party member before its time, and I was a child of the 60's. I didn't know what to say to him and when we were growing up, he was seldom around the house anyway. He always seemed to be at "the plant," and when he did come home, he would often be very difficult to live with. When he entered the house, my brothers and I made ourselves scarce, and between his work schedule and his moods, I never felt entirely comfortable when I was around him. I often wished that I would've had a dad to play catch with, or one who would've listened to my worries and my dreams, but things just never turned out that way.
Therefore, we didn't talk much, and as the years passed, and we went our separate ways after Sherry and I moved to Omaha. Yet, I wish we would have spent more time with him and the rest of my family. I wish that things could have been different because I loved my father dearly... and I admired him in many ways. Like many of his peers, he only had an 8th grade education... but he was very bright. He had a quick wit, a wonderful sense of humor (he absolutely loved Red Skelton), a legendary work ethic, and a well-earned reputation of being a man people could trust. He also had an immense amount of courage...and almost frightening perseverance. In short, he was a man's man. He filled a room... and the record shows that he accomplished a lot, rising to the rank of VP and Co-Owner in the field that he chose.
He lived, it seems to me, in three worlds at the same time. At home, he seemed unhappy and at odds with my mother much of the time. At work, he was somebody important, who played a big role and cast a big shadow, and within himself, he carried the memories of the depression, the War, and any number of regrets, hopes, and wishes. Of course dad was somebody's child himself. He grew up in what seems to have been a stern and volatile household, and he was definitely affected by what he experienced in WWII (which he seldom mentioned at all.) He had seen too much death, experienced too much pain, and pushed himself to be more than he was able to handle at times. He played the cards that had been dealt to him with strength and courage, and he never complained about not being dealt the very best hand. This is the same thing I've tried to do in my life and in many ways, I am much like my dad... except that, when I hit bottom... I was blessed with a transforming grace... and he never had that experience. Grace. A second-chance. That's the only difference between us. Otherwise, I am pretty much a chip off the old block. Indeed, in many ways I wish I was even more like my dad. With a better hand and a moment of grace, dad could've done great things. There is not a doubt in my mind, but (like me) he needed an "unconditional hug." He needed to be known... and loved anyway.
This man... who once put his fist through a picture window, wrapped his own arm with his shirt, and then drove himself to the doctor... who lost a co-pilot and many of his buddies in the war... who loved to fill his house with laughter and friends- who had lost siblings and parents- who loved to play with his grandchildren and grill food for the whole family- who prayed to God when he picked up enemy fire during the War- who gave us everything he had to give... was my father... and I love him. His body is now resting next to my mother's, in the Masonic section of Highland Memory Gardens, grace 4, lot 170... which is not far from either one of the plants he used to run. I won't get there in person this year, so I will say it now: "Hello, dad. I hope you are at peace. I know you did the best you could. Happy Father's Day."
Your son,
Ken
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
EL ROI- THE GOD WHO SEES
When I was a young man, I traveled for a living. Sometimes for weeks on end, and it was not a good thing- not for a man who drank the way I did. Over the course of time, I lost interest in being with people and began to drink alone. Straight whiskey usually... and before I went bed, I would add water to my mostly empty bottle... so that it would look like I hadn't drunk as much come morning. It was a pathetic thing to see... and there were times when I would cry out, "O God, if you are there, please, please see me and save me. Hosannah." Earlier in life, when I was a kid, I would lay in my bed... and cover my ears with pillows when I began to hear my parents' voices raise, I would cover my ears... and pray that things would not get to be as bad as they sometimes did. Sometimes my little brother, Randy, would join me... but still, I felt alone... and wished that someone could see all that was going on... and do something about it. As Wille Nelson sang, "I've got a long list of real good reasons for all the things I've done," but my reasons were never convincing, and I could never feel entirely good about the face I saw in the mirror. What I needed was somebody who would see me- the real me- even the worst of me- and love me any way!
I think we all do from time to time... because we get lost... in all the ways that people get lost. We get hurt... in all the ways that people get hurt. We take the wrong turns, hang out with the wrong crowd, get confused by the thoughts that clutter our minds. We fall in love with some idol, we chase one shining object after another. We get rejected. People whom we've trusted... betray us. With a pink slip in our pocket, we clean out our desk... and no one says a word as we leave the building. We get a devastating prognosis from our oncologist and we find ourselves alone in the elevator. We suffer injustice. We stumble, fall, grumble, curse, laugh, praise, lie, sob, win, lose, fight, run... and we wonder if anyone sees or cares.
What we need is a God who sees us when we're in misery and hiding. What we need is a God who sees us when we're lost in the wilderness. What we need is a God who sees into our hearts. And into our deepest darkness. What we need is a God who sees that we're about to give up, or lose control. What we need is a God who sees our deepest hunger and our deepest thirst... and that is the kind of God that we have! Praise God- this is exactly the God who we have! Some people believe that God is "at a distance," disinterested and uninvolved... but this is NOT the God of the Bible. Not at all... because the God of the Bible is aware of our journeys. He see us. He talks with us, and He walks with us... which brings me to EL-ROI- the God who sees. God sees us when we run from him, like Jonah did; God sees us when we're hiding in fear, like Gideon was; God sees us when were blinded and chained and ridiculed, like Samson was; God see us when we are walking along the road of disappointment with Cleopas- the road to Emmaus; and God sees us, when like Hagar, we're walking in some desert without any hope at all.
Indeed, it was the Egyptian maidservant, Hagar, who first recognized God as El-Roi. You know the story. After they had reached old age, Abram and Sarai came to believe that they would not have a baby together. So, they decided to help God keep his promise by giving Sarai's servant, Hagar, to Abram, as his wife. The plan seemed to work because Hagar became pregnant, but Sarai became jealous and angry when she saw her plan unfold. She blamed Abram for embarrassing her, and in return, Abram gave her permission to abuse and mistreat Hagar, which she did. In fact, Hagar was abused to the point where she couldn't stand it anymore... and even though she was pregnant, she ran into the desert. She didn't have a friend in the world and there wasn't a safe haven to be found... BUT the Lord saw her- the Bible says it clearly- He saw her at the spring on the road to Shur (Gen. 16:7)... and he assured her that she would be blessed if she returned to Sarai.
It was almost a miracle- to be seen and saved in the middle of the desert- and in a time when names defined a person's character and essence, Hagar cried, "You are El-Roi." El Roi saw Hagar on the road to Shur... and He saw me when I watered down my whiskey. But what is more: He sees you! El Roi sees you and you will never be alone, no matter how dark or bleak things may be... because our great God- the great I AM- is also El Roi! In this we can trust and believe. Amen.
I think we all do from time to time... because we get lost... in all the ways that people get lost. We get hurt... in all the ways that people get hurt. We take the wrong turns, hang out with the wrong crowd, get confused by the thoughts that clutter our minds. We fall in love with some idol, we chase one shining object after another. We get rejected. People whom we've trusted... betray us. With a pink slip in our pocket, we clean out our desk... and no one says a word as we leave the building. We get a devastating prognosis from our oncologist and we find ourselves alone in the elevator. We suffer injustice. We stumble, fall, grumble, curse, laugh, praise, lie, sob, win, lose, fight, run... and we wonder if anyone sees or cares.
What we need is a God who sees us when we're in misery and hiding. What we need is a God who sees us when we're lost in the wilderness. What we need is a God who sees into our hearts. And into our deepest darkness. What we need is a God who sees that we're about to give up, or lose control. What we need is a God who sees our deepest hunger and our deepest thirst... and that is the kind of God that we have! Praise God- this is exactly the God who we have! Some people believe that God is "at a distance," disinterested and uninvolved... but this is NOT the God of the Bible. Not at all... because the God of the Bible is aware of our journeys. He see us. He talks with us, and He walks with us... which brings me to EL-ROI- the God who sees. God sees us when we run from him, like Jonah did; God sees us when we're hiding in fear, like Gideon was; God sees us when were blinded and chained and ridiculed, like Samson was; God see us when we are walking along the road of disappointment with Cleopas- the road to Emmaus; and God sees us, when like Hagar, we're walking in some desert without any hope at all.
Indeed, it was the Egyptian maidservant, Hagar, who first recognized God as El-Roi. You know the story. After they had reached old age, Abram and Sarai came to believe that they would not have a baby together. So, they decided to help God keep his promise by giving Sarai's servant, Hagar, to Abram, as his wife. The plan seemed to work because Hagar became pregnant, but Sarai became jealous and angry when she saw her plan unfold. She blamed Abram for embarrassing her, and in return, Abram gave her permission to abuse and mistreat Hagar, which she did. In fact, Hagar was abused to the point where she couldn't stand it anymore... and even though she was pregnant, she ran into the desert. She didn't have a friend in the world and there wasn't a safe haven to be found... BUT the Lord saw her- the Bible says it clearly- He saw her at the spring on the road to Shur (Gen. 16:7)... and he assured her that she would be blessed if she returned to Sarai.
It was almost a miracle- to be seen and saved in the middle of the desert- and in a time when names defined a person's character and essence, Hagar cried, "You are El-Roi." El Roi saw Hagar on the road to Shur... and He saw me when I watered down my whiskey. But what is more: He sees you! El Roi sees you and you will never be alone, no matter how dark or bleak things may be... because our great God- the great I AM- is also El Roi! In this we can trust and believe. Amen.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
I BELIEVE
Many years ago, as I was riding along I-80 with a friend, we passed a billboard that pleaded with us to "know Jesus"... and my friend said, "I don't think it matters what you believe, just as long as you believe something." His aim, I think, was to be tolerant and understanding of people who held differing beliefs. I agree with this entirely... but his words didn't make any sense to me (and they still don't). Indeed, it seems to me that what we believe should guide and shape our lives. For instance, if I didn't believe that I had a Creator who has given me a purpose, and a Savior who has promised full and eternal life in His hands... then I would be forced to "come up" with a purpose that made life worth the living... and I would have to deal with the fact that life on this earth is all that there is. Likewise, if I didn't believe that the meek inherit the world, I would continue to elbow my way to the front of the line... and if I didn't believe that God loved me (with my pride and my secrets) so much that He died for me, I would never know the joy and freedom of being known and loved anyway.
In short, I believe that what I believe governs how I live. It is critically important. With this in mind, I encourage all of those who read these words to do business with the living God and come to grips with what it is that you really do believe. As for me, I have come to believe the following things, among a hundred more.
1 I believe that our hearts will never rest until they come to rest in God;
2 I believe that, without God, we are "empty" and "lost" in all the ways that we get lost;
3 I believe that we are chained by our own will, our pride, and our fears;
4 I believe that we all have a desperate need to be forgiven;
5 I believe that it's more Christian to forgive someone... than it is to attend church;
6 I believe that being known and loved anyway is the highest and deepest love of all;
7 I believe that, in Christ, there really is NO b/w, m/f, straight/gay, worthy/unworthy. Period.
8 I believe that the word "Christian" is much more of a noun than an adjective;
9 I believe that there is no higher calling than to love others in God's name, where love is an action word;
10 I believe that we are prone to worship ourselves in a "loud voice" as we pretend to worship God;
11 I believe that God meets us where we are... and empowers us to be more than we ever dreamed;
12 I believe that yesterday I was at the foot of his cross... and tomorrow I will see him face-to-face.
Christians interpret the Bible in different ways. They worship in different ways too, and they attend different churches. They see things differently. They vote differently and they cheer on different teams. But every Christian tries his or her best to live out their belief... that they are in the hands of a God... who has SAVED them and CALLED them to a life of loving service in His name. Christians, in their most genuine and powerful form, know what they believe and they live it out everyday! What we believe matters. Amen.
In short, I believe that what I believe governs how I live. It is critically important. With this in mind, I encourage all of those who read these words to do business with the living God and come to grips with what it is that you really do believe. As for me, I have come to believe the following things, among a hundred more.
1 I believe that our hearts will never rest until they come to rest in God;
2 I believe that, without God, we are "empty" and "lost" in all the ways that we get lost;
3 I believe that we are chained by our own will, our pride, and our fears;
4 I believe that we all have a desperate need to be forgiven;
5 I believe that it's more Christian to forgive someone... than it is to attend church;
6 I believe that being known and loved anyway is the highest and deepest love of all;
7 I believe that, in Christ, there really is NO b/w, m/f, straight/gay, worthy/unworthy. Period.
8 I believe that the word "Christian" is much more of a noun than an adjective;
9 I believe that there is no higher calling than to love others in God's name, where love is an action word;
10 I believe that we are prone to worship ourselves in a "loud voice" as we pretend to worship God;
11 I believe that God meets us where we are... and empowers us to be more than we ever dreamed;
12 I believe that yesterday I was at the foot of his cross... and tomorrow I will see him face-to-face.
Christians interpret the Bible in different ways. They worship in different ways too, and they attend different churches. They see things differently. They vote differently and they cheer on different teams. But every Christian tries his or her best to live out their belief... that they are in the hands of a God... who has SAVED them and CALLED them to a life of loving service in His name. Christians, in their most genuine and powerful form, know what they believe and they live it out everyday! What we believe matters. Amen.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
REVEALING THE "UNKNOWN" GOD
Life was a struggle in the ancient world, especially for those who were powerless and unwelcome. There were slaves who lived without freedom... and widows and orphans with no social or financial support at all. People died young, from causes that no one understood, and human rights weren't even considered. Droughts, floods, pestilence, invading armies, and even the changing of the guard within a country... dramatically altered and shattered peoples' lives. Life was difficult and happiness was elusive. Thus, the people turned to a number of gods and philosophies to make sense of things and to bring order, perhaps even love and prosperity, to themselves and their families.
In the apostle's day, Greece was the center of culture and enlightenment. It was the home of Plato, Socrates and scores of other famous philosophers. It was a place of deep thought, where men actually tried to figure out how to be happy. The Epicureans held that, since life was fleeting, people ought to make...enjoying it... their number one goal. Eat, drink, and be merry, they said, but the Stoics maintained that life was more to be endured than enjoyed. The average person had to do some of both, of course. They had to find a little joy in a life that they mostly endured, but they could turn to their gods... and visit them in any number of shrines, statues., and altars. Zeus (the king god) was represented and so was Ares (aka Mars, the god of war)... and Hera (who specialized in women and marriage). Dionysos (who oversaw wine and festivity), Aphrodite, Poseidon and scores of others. In fact, someone noted that it was easier to find a god than a man in Athens... and it was in Athens where the prophet spoke to them of an "unknown god."
According to Scripture, Paul first went to the synagogue in Athens with his message about Christ crucified and risen, but he soon found himself in conflict with certain Epicureans and Stoics, who accused him of being a "babbler," or of advocating "foreign gods." They considered him to be a fool, but given their commitment to ideas and dialogue, they brought him to Mars Hill... so that he could make his case. And he did... but instead of demeaning them, the apostle met them "where they were at," as we might say. "I can see that you're a very religious people," he noted in my words, "because I've read the monuments and statues that dot your community. I know of your commitment to explain the things you cannot understand, and I can see that you've made a effort to honor the gods whom you cannot see... in marble and gold. I see that you're a people given to worship, and with that in mind, I want to talk about the altar you have inscribed to an "unknown God"... because I know who this God is. In fact, I've experienced his grace and his power. Look," the apostle seemed to say, "there is a God who created us in His own image and who desires that we live joyful and obedient lives. There is a God who listens to us, intercedes for us, and loves us so much that he gave his life for us. What is more, this same God, who is Christ Jesus, rose from his grave and gave us victory over both death and sin. This God- my God, your unknown God- lives today, and in him, we live... but he cannot be depicted in marble and stone! This unknown God, to whom you have built an altar, is the source of all good things and the author of all knowledge and all love. He is my Savior and he invites you to worship and trust in him today."
It's a wonderful story. You can read it in the Bible, but I wonder what it means for us, as people of faith. What will I do with it? How will we respond when we find ourselves on Mars Hill? Will we be able to tell others that the unknown God whom they seek is Jesus Christ... in ways that don't demean them or turn them off? I'm no Paul, but if I should have the chance, I pray that I'll have the grace and the courage to say something like this: As I walk along the streets of my world, I know that life is difficult, fleeting, and unfair. I know that there are more things that happen that I can't explain than there are things that I can explain. I know that we're all insecure and frightened... and I see that you are a religious people. I see the altars that you have dedicated to money. I see that some of them are merely mirrors... and I see that many of them are dedicated to beauty and pleasure. I see monuments to wealth all around and altars dedicated to power too. I can see that the god of independence is worshiped, and I know that many people worship their church. I see the monuments you've built to your gods, but I also know that you are seeking a God who will know you, and love you anyway. I know that you're seeking a God who really has forgiven you... for being born into a world that is beyond your control... and I know that, at times when you are completely alone, that your hearts will be lifted by a God who has promised that he will never leave you orphaned. In short, in a world filled with statues to lesser gods, I know- because I've been there- that most of you really, really pray... that in the face of your doubts and your wanderings... there really is a God who can save you!
Friends, if we're given a chance to speak on Mars Hill, will we be able to tell the people that Jesus Christ is Lord... in ways that neither diminish him or turn them away? Since we can't give what we don't have, we have to get right with God ourselves... but if you've found peace and purpose in Christ, pray that you'll be able to let others know that Jesus is the God whom they have yet to know. Amen.
In the apostle's day, Greece was the center of culture and enlightenment. It was the home of Plato, Socrates and scores of other famous philosophers. It was a place of deep thought, where men actually tried to figure out how to be happy. The Epicureans held that, since life was fleeting, people ought to make...enjoying it... their number one goal. Eat, drink, and be merry, they said, but the Stoics maintained that life was more to be endured than enjoyed. The average person had to do some of both, of course. They had to find a little joy in a life that they mostly endured, but they could turn to their gods... and visit them in any number of shrines, statues., and altars. Zeus (the king god) was represented and so was Ares (aka Mars, the god of war)... and Hera (who specialized in women and marriage). Dionysos (who oversaw wine and festivity), Aphrodite, Poseidon and scores of others. In fact, someone noted that it was easier to find a god than a man in Athens... and it was in Athens where the prophet spoke to them of an "unknown god."
According to Scripture, Paul first went to the synagogue in Athens with his message about Christ crucified and risen, but he soon found himself in conflict with certain Epicureans and Stoics, who accused him of being a "babbler," or of advocating "foreign gods." They considered him to be a fool, but given their commitment to ideas and dialogue, they brought him to Mars Hill... so that he could make his case. And he did... but instead of demeaning them, the apostle met them "where they were at," as we might say. "I can see that you're a very religious people," he noted in my words, "because I've read the monuments and statues that dot your community. I know of your commitment to explain the things you cannot understand, and I can see that you've made a effort to honor the gods whom you cannot see... in marble and gold. I see that you're a people given to worship, and with that in mind, I want to talk about the altar you have inscribed to an "unknown God"... because I know who this God is. In fact, I've experienced his grace and his power. Look," the apostle seemed to say, "there is a God who created us in His own image and who desires that we live joyful and obedient lives. There is a God who listens to us, intercedes for us, and loves us so much that he gave his life for us. What is more, this same God, who is Christ Jesus, rose from his grave and gave us victory over both death and sin. This God- my God, your unknown God- lives today, and in him, we live... but he cannot be depicted in marble and stone! This unknown God, to whom you have built an altar, is the source of all good things and the author of all knowledge and all love. He is my Savior and he invites you to worship and trust in him today."
It's a wonderful story. You can read it in the Bible, but I wonder what it means for us, as people of faith. What will I do with it? How will we respond when we find ourselves on Mars Hill? Will we be able to tell others that the unknown God whom they seek is Jesus Christ... in ways that don't demean them or turn them off? I'm no Paul, but if I should have the chance, I pray that I'll have the grace and the courage to say something like this: As I walk along the streets of my world, I know that life is difficult, fleeting, and unfair. I know that there are more things that happen that I can't explain than there are things that I can explain. I know that we're all insecure and frightened... and I see that you are a religious people. I see the altars that you have dedicated to money. I see that some of them are merely mirrors... and I see that many of them are dedicated to beauty and pleasure. I see monuments to wealth all around and altars dedicated to power too. I can see that the god of independence is worshiped, and I know that many people worship their church. I see the monuments you've built to your gods, but I also know that you are seeking a God who will know you, and love you anyway. I know that you're seeking a God who really has forgiven you... for being born into a world that is beyond your control... and I know that, at times when you are completely alone, that your hearts will be lifted by a God who has promised that he will never leave you orphaned. In short, in a world filled with statues to lesser gods, I know- because I've been there- that most of you really, really pray... that in the face of your doubts and your wanderings... there really is a God who can save you!
Friends, if we're given a chance to speak on Mars Hill, will we be able to tell the people that Jesus Christ is Lord... in ways that neither diminish him or turn them away? Since we can't give what we don't have, we have to get right with God ourselves... but if you've found peace and purpose in Christ, pray that you'll be able to let others know that Jesus is the God whom they have yet to know. Amen.
Monday, May 15, 2017
SEEING WITH COLOR-BLIND HEARTS
Recently, as I was walking our white poodle (with a touch of apricot) down the street, I encountered a black couple who were waiting for their child's school bus to arrive. The father asked, "What kind of a dog is that?"... and I told him that it was a poodle. Since he appeared to be surprised by my answer, I went on to explain that she definitely is a poodle, but we don't get her trimmed "like a poodle." "Just wondering," the man noted, "because my sister has a terrier who looks something like your dog." Nice couple, I thought, as Buffy and I walked along.
It's nice to live in a diverse neighborhood, I thought, and then for reasons that only God would know, I thought about the diversity of dogs I had owned. London was grey/blue and Rocky was brown and black. I loved them both, but not nearly as much as I loved Nikki. Nikki was a medium/large dog whom we rescued from a woman who kept her caged in her garage. She was strong, bold, energetic, and coal-black. Even her tongue was black. She had never been socialized to other dogs and she was suspicious of new people too... but she became my very best friend when we lived in Michigan. Day after day, we would walk in the woods that were everywhere around, and we formed a deep bond. Early on, she would run away...if she had a chance, and I would chase her for blocks, sometimes through knee-deep snow. Once, when I was walking her without a leash, she began to run in circles that seemed a half-mile wide, and she would not respond to my calls. So, I went home without her, exhausted... and hoped that she knew where she lived. Fortunately, she did and it wasn't long before we heard her scratching at our back door.
Nikki went to Peoria with us... and then to Rock Island. Every day, we would walk through our neighborhoods and bond with each other... until the day came when she had trouble walking because her hips were giving out. In the end, they did give out... and the three of us- Nikki, Sherry, and me- gathered at the vet's office to "put her down." Oh, how I wanted to just go back home, but we didn't and when the vet gave her her last shot... I looked into her eyes... and cried like a baby (even as I am about to do now). I loved our black dog with a love that was deep and unconditional... and I never once thought of her as a BLACK dog. Now, I am giving my love to our white poodle... without ever thinking of her as a WHITE dog. My eyes see that one was black and the other was white. I was not color-blind in that sense... but my heart was color-blind... and it would've been absurd to think of color as anything more than part of the dog whom I loved.
No one whom I know personally... gives the color of their dogs much thought and it would be absurd if they did. Why then is it so difficult to love other people with color-blind hearts? Why do we let something that is so unimportant keep us apart? Some people are black and some are white, some are tall and some are short, some are straight and some are gay. They come in many shapes and colors, but each one of them is a treasure... who should be loved for the joy that they give and seek. Why can't we see that?
It's nice to live in a diverse neighborhood, I thought, and then for reasons that only God would know, I thought about the diversity of dogs I had owned. London was grey/blue and Rocky was brown and black. I loved them both, but not nearly as much as I loved Nikki. Nikki was a medium/large dog whom we rescued from a woman who kept her caged in her garage. She was strong, bold, energetic, and coal-black. Even her tongue was black. She had never been socialized to other dogs and she was suspicious of new people too... but she became my very best friend when we lived in Michigan. Day after day, we would walk in the woods that were everywhere around, and we formed a deep bond. Early on, she would run away...if she had a chance, and I would chase her for blocks, sometimes through knee-deep snow. Once, when I was walking her without a leash, she began to run in circles that seemed a half-mile wide, and she would not respond to my calls. So, I went home without her, exhausted... and hoped that she knew where she lived. Fortunately, she did and it wasn't long before we heard her scratching at our back door.
Nikki went to Peoria with us... and then to Rock Island. Every day, we would walk through our neighborhoods and bond with each other... until the day came when she had trouble walking because her hips were giving out. In the end, they did give out... and the three of us- Nikki, Sherry, and me- gathered at the vet's office to "put her down." Oh, how I wanted to just go back home, but we didn't and when the vet gave her her last shot... I looked into her eyes... and cried like a baby (even as I am about to do now). I loved our black dog with a love that was deep and unconditional... and I never once thought of her as a BLACK dog. Now, I am giving my love to our white poodle... without ever thinking of her as a WHITE dog. My eyes see that one was black and the other was white. I was not color-blind in that sense... but my heart was color-blind... and it would've been absurd to think of color as anything more than part of the dog whom I loved.
No one whom I know personally... gives the color of their dogs much thought and it would be absurd if they did. Why then is it so difficult to love other people with color-blind hearts? Why do we let something that is so unimportant keep us apart? Some people are black and some are white, some are tall and some are short, some are straight and some are gay. They come in many shapes and colors, but each one of them is a treasure... who should be loved for the joy that they give and seek. Why can't we see that?
Saturday, May 6, 2017
(Church) Growth Is a Consequence Word
Advertising is big in the world... and it's big in the church... because it's a growth strategy. If we tell our story in creative and entertaining ways, to our target audience, we will reach some of them, and they will try us out. They will visit us and buy what we're selling. If we can just get through their unawareness, or skepticism, people will give us a try, and when they do, we must be prepared to seize the moment... and make them ours. Entertainment is big in the world, and it's often big in the church too... because the church wants to compete and "be relevant." Thus, we invest in electronic signs that glow in the dark and giant screens that we erect in our sanctuaries... so that we can tell our stories and pitch our products to members and non-members alike. Social media has taken the world by storm and every savvy retailer offers apps... and specials to social media consumers only. Websites are a must in today's world and they are also a must in the church world, although most churches do a lesser job of designing them and keeping them updated. Things are changing. There's no doubt about it, and in an effort to be relevant, many churches are searching for ways in which they can tell their stories to a generation of people who are less patience and more skeptical than those who preceded them. I know this because growth has been a priority for me and every church I served. In Joliet, we transformed an established church by investing in families and their young children. We remodeled our gym, built a climbing wall, and swapped a tradition at a quiet retreat center for a weekend of family fun in a community noted for its shopping and water activities. In Peoria, we contracted with a nationally known consultant, who advised us to set up satellite locations... and we united with another established church, and built a beautiful, new sanctuary together. In Rock Island, we updated the interior of our building with contemporary colors, added an electronic sign, and established several new Bible study and fellowship opportunities... so that we would be bonded as one in God's word.
I'm all for these things. Churches need to meet people where they're at, just as Christ did... BUT the church is NOT in the entertainment business. Indeed, throughout its first centuries, the church grew because it was blessed, and it was blessed because it was faithful. The members DEVOTED themselves (they were committed) to the apostles' teaching, to koinonia fellowship (where people know one another, spend time with one another, and meet one another's needs), to the breaking of the bread (which includes both communion and the more typical, but still sacred, meals that we share with one another), to prayers (they prayed for one another, for their church, for the leaders, for all leaders, and for peace), and to being present to one another. The early church took Christ's ministry and his teaching seriously... and they were serious about imitating his love and generosity in the world. Jesus told them that they should proclaim good news to those who were poor, blind, or imprisoned, and that they must love one another as he loved them... and his church worked to do these things. Jesus told them that they would be blessed... if they hungered for righteousness, showed mercy, and made peace. He called them to be the light of the world by serving and by forgiving others... and this is what they did. This is what they were told to do, this is what they believed, and this is what every church MUST do.
In Christ's name, they responded to people and met their needs, just as he had done. This is also what we must do because people need love (in the form of prayer and bread), real community, sustainable hope, and new beginnings... much more than they need entertainment and committees to attend. In the apostolic age, the church was known for its love. One man, who despised the church, said that "the godless Galileans feed not only their own poor children, but ours as well," and a church leader added, "We used to hate and destroy one another and refused to associate with people of another race or country, but now we live together with these people and pray for our enemies." Tertullian noted that, "We are knit together by a bond of common hope" (and) when we gather, we read our sacred writings, which nourish our faith and enhance our confidence. Another church leader said, "Every day our church here feeds 3000 people, besides providing for prisoners, hospitalized, crippled, and Christians imprisoned because of their faith. When epidemics broke out in Carthage and Alexandria, Christians rushed aid to all in need." Amen.
They were loving one another as Christ loved them and they were serving all of God's children in His name. They embraced the good news and they lived it out in their own lives. They were, indeed, the light of the world, and no power on earth could ever put it out. Friends, may we never forget that we are in the ministry business. Christ crucified and risen- this is our message. And carrying our cross for him- this is our life. Growth is a consequence word. It will come to us... as we are faithful to our mission and our calling. It will come as a blessing. In fact, it must come as a blessing because it cannot be chased down, manipulated, or owned on our own terms. If you want to be a growing church, be a faithful church!
I'm all for these things. Churches need to meet people where they're at, just as Christ did... BUT the church is NOT in the entertainment business. Indeed, throughout its first centuries, the church grew because it was blessed, and it was blessed because it was faithful. The members DEVOTED themselves (they were committed) to the apostles' teaching, to koinonia fellowship (where people know one another, spend time with one another, and meet one another's needs), to the breaking of the bread (which includes both communion and the more typical, but still sacred, meals that we share with one another), to prayers (they prayed for one another, for their church, for the leaders, for all leaders, and for peace), and to being present to one another. The early church took Christ's ministry and his teaching seriously... and they were serious about imitating his love and generosity in the world. Jesus told them that they should proclaim good news to those who were poor, blind, or imprisoned, and that they must love one another as he loved them... and his church worked to do these things. Jesus told them that they would be blessed... if they hungered for righteousness, showed mercy, and made peace. He called them to be the light of the world by serving and by forgiving others... and this is what they did. This is what they were told to do, this is what they believed, and this is what every church MUST do.
In Christ's name, they responded to people and met their needs, just as he had done. This is also what we must do because people need love (in the form of prayer and bread), real community, sustainable hope, and new beginnings... much more than they need entertainment and committees to attend. In the apostolic age, the church was known for its love. One man, who despised the church, said that "the godless Galileans feed not only their own poor children, but ours as well," and a church leader added, "We used to hate and destroy one another and refused to associate with people of another race or country, but now we live together with these people and pray for our enemies." Tertullian noted that, "We are knit together by a bond of common hope" (and) when we gather, we read our sacred writings, which nourish our faith and enhance our confidence. Another church leader said, "Every day our church here feeds 3000 people, besides providing for prisoners, hospitalized, crippled, and Christians imprisoned because of their faith. When epidemics broke out in Carthage and Alexandria, Christians rushed aid to all in need." Amen.
They were loving one another as Christ loved them and they were serving all of God's children in His name. They embraced the good news and they lived it out in their own lives. They were, indeed, the light of the world, and no power on earth could ever put it out. Friends, may we never forget that we are in the ministry business. Christ crucified and risen- this is our message. And carrying our cross for him- this is our life. Growth is a consequence word. It will come to us... as we are faithful to our mission and our calling. It will come as a blessing. In fact, it must come as a blessing because it cannot be chased down, manipulated, or owned on our own terms. If you want to be a growing church, be a faithful church!
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