Tag Archives: Jesus

Honk If You Love Christmas

For many, the Christmas season means spending a great deal of time traveling: a dozen trips in the car battling the traffic to the mall, the annual airline flight to visit the grandparents, or the 10-hour bus ride home from college.  Time on the road or waiting in a terminal is synonymous with celebrating Christmas.  It makes sense, since travelling has always been a part of Jesus’ birth.   I am thinking about a young couple named Mary and Joseph, who were required to travel roughly ninety miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem.  To put it in perspective, it would be like walking from Dorchester to Hartford.

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.  (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)  And everyone went to their own town to register.  Luke 2:1-3

Sometimes, we might think that the demands upon us to travel are beyond our control and we chafe at the expectation.  That may have been how Mary and Joseph felt.  Caesar Augustus thought he had a good idea in counting everyone in his realm and raise taxes to increase his kingdom.  Because he was the dictator of the entire Rome world, he could do anything he wanted.  So they went, on foot, despite the fact that Mary was ‘heavy laden with child’.  God had a plan for them, and God often has a plan for us.   

Sometimes, we might think that the destination of our travel plans are outside our comfort zone.  That could have been how Joseph and Mary felt as they awkwardly advanced toward Bethlehem together.  It was an uncomfortable situation: they were pledged to be married but had yet to have the ceremony when it was obvious that they were expecting.  Mary was in an uncomfortable condition:  can you imagine walking 15 miles a day for 6 days while 9 months pregnant?  God was guiding their every step, and God is also guiding ours.

God may be leading us to places out of our control and beyond our comfort because there are people in those places that need the hope, the joy and the love that appeared in its fulness for the first time in Bethlehem.  There are people in parking lots and registers who need a smile and a warm greeting.  There are people frustrated by missed connections or missing luggage that could benefit from an act of kindness and a candy cane.  The roads and airways are filled with inconsiderate and self-centered travelers; perhaps God could use you to offer those around you common courtesy and Christmas cheer.

Wherever God has you travelling this month, whether it be across the room, across the street or across the country, know that God has a purpose in your journey – to bring forth a witness to God’s grace, mercy and love to those who may not experience it otherwise.  We could choose to follow Mary and Joseph’s example and remain faithful to God wherever He may lead us.  We could choose to share the delight of knowing the light that shines in the darkness, the hope of nations, the King of Kings and the prince of peace.

May we go wherever we go with gladness and may the gifts arrive unbroken.

 

Photo by Chris Sowder on Unsplash

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Wait. What?

Last Sunday, I spent part of my vacation visiting a church not far from home.  The fact that I went to church on vacation is not my point in this posting.  Where we went is also not my point, nor is my point the fact that it was a wonderful service.  What I felt as I sat there, on the other side of the pulpit, can be summed up in one word: distracted.  I was distracted by the worship leader’s broken guitar string (and how he was going to handle the set-back).  I was distracted by the graphics on the screen (and the exceptional quality of said images that the church projected through two large television screens).  I was distracted by those sitting next to me (my boys have nothing softer than a stage whisper) and those sitting a few rows in front of me (who were shifting in their seats randomly and consistently). 

My point is this: we all, even when we have the best of intentions, get distracted by the things that bombard our senses every Sunday.  Perhaps, like me, you hear the radiator hiss or the bench squeak.  Perhaps, like me, you see the head three rows ahead bob back and forth or the lamp on the platform flicker off and on.  Perhaps, like me, you smell the lip balm of your wife or the phantom aromas of pot-lucks past.  Perhaps, like me, you feel an odd breeze or sense your leg falling asleep.  Before you know it, like me, you are missing what the Spirit is saying.

A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume.  Luke 7:37

As I think about my distracted mind last Sunday, I think about the Pharisee who invited Jesus to his house for dinner.  In those days, eating a meal with someone was a big deal: it represented the importance of the relationship.  As Jesus and the Pharisee were discussing any number of pressing matters, a woman comes in and proceeds to wash Jesus’ feet with her tears.  The Pharisee (and apparently Luke) are fascinated by this woman, wetting His feet with her weeping, wiping them away with her hair and anointing them with perfume and kisses.  Quite the spectacle.

At some point Jesus, knowing the Pharisee’s thoughts and his distracted condition, breaks through and tells the Pharisee a parable about forgiveness.   This serves as a good reminder to all of us: Jesus knows our thoughts and how we are easily distracted, and He is willing and able to capture (and recapture) our attention to show us what we need to see.  Jesus is faithful to His adopted siblings, pulling us away from our daydreams and off our rabbit trails and redirecting our thoughts toward His counsel.  That is what I needed last Sunday, a nudge to ignore the behavior of that woman in front of me and focus (if only for a moment) on the Lord before me.

We all get distracted at times (even on Sunday mornings at 11:40 in Dorchester).  It is good to know that God not only understands, but assists us in catching what we need to hear even when we are not listening.

Photo by Sarah Noltner on Unsplash

Seeing What Is Not There

The other morning, my mother-in-law underwent a procedure to treat her cataracts.  At ninety-one, she was hesitant to have it done (she was unwilling to endure the pain, to be anesthetized, or to have a doctor mess with her eyes).  After weeks of prayer and encouragement by a multitude of sources, she went to the surgical clinic and allowed the procedure to be done.  The surgery was a success.  Twenty-four hours later, at the follow-up appointment, two surprising developments took place: 1) she told the nurse that the experience was better than she expected, and 2) her vision test showed that her eyesight was greatly improved.

Worry is, by all appearances, a mighty adversary.  It will tell us that the costs are not worth the gains.  It will remind us of that one time, long ago, when we were mistreated and assure us it will happen again.  It will highlight the adverse effects that professionals must legally disclose and tell us that we will be the ‘one-in-a-million’ to suffer.  It will keep us up at night, make us lose our appetites and force us to pace the floor.  Few know the truth, however, that worry is a paper tiger.  Worry is only a shadow on the wall.

“Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”  Matthew 6:27 (NIV)

As I read these words of Jesus, I think to myself, “Maybe I can; I am pretty good at it.”  Despite my conviction that God’s word is true and that God grants perfect peace – complete contentment and wondrous well-being – to all who trust in Him, worry is a constant travelling companion of mine.  Its relentless whisper rings in my ears, causing me to fret about everything from car accidents to broken bones, from power outages to excessive costs.  I readily admit that this level of worry is not rational; it is nothing more than exhausting – of energy, of hope and or peace.

“So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”  Matthew 6:31-33 (NIV)

The remedy for worry is worship: to trust in the promises of our loving Heavenly Father for what we eat, what we drink and what we wear (as well as what we endure, what we await and what we hope to avoid).   Worry is silenced when we rely upon God to provide whatever we need, whether it be peace or patience or perseverance.  Worry is unmasked when we rest in God’s presence.  Worry is defeated when we occupy our thought with the goodness, kindness and love of our creator.  The paper tiger of worry is tamed by the authority of His name.

I hope that my quickly recovering mother-in-law (and I) will be able to see this truth.

That Hits the (Blind)Spot

Driving in Boston can be an adventure: the streets are narrow, turn signals are for ‘the other car’ and the solid yellow lines are ignored.  I am typically the driver on family trips to the grocery store or school, with my loving wife in the front passenger seat.  As we navigate the roads around our residence, she gently reminds me on occasion of people and vehicles that are dangerously close to our car.  “Watch out for that car pulling out of the driveway,” she implores.  “Do you see that woman with the baby carriage?” she asks.  “There’s a truck on your left,” she says.

What my wife is pointing out are my blind spots.  When she says these things and asks these questions, I am quick to tell her that I am fine and that I see everything she mentions.  I am confident that I know where my blind spots are and what is contained within them.  As I write these words, I realize just how dumb they sound: am I really proposing that I can see and process the things that, by definition, I cannot see, the things to which I am blind?  What makes them blind spots is the fact that they are not seen.

We all need an extra pair of eyes, someone watching our backs, if we hope to avoid disaster.  We all need someone outside ourselves, someone with a slightly different perspective, who will tell us the hard facts that we are unable to recognize.  We all need someone who will see the trouble before it strikes and warn us (or, at least, enable us to brace for impact).  We need other people in our lives in order to avoid becoming a wreck: physically, emotionally, spiritually or relationally.   “Watch out for increased sodium levels,” they will implore.  “Do you see those red flags that your new companion is raising?”  they will ask.  “There’s a flaw in your logic,” they will say.

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.  Proverbs 27:17 (NIV)

In order for iron to sharpen iron, in order for the hammer and anvil to shape the blade and in order for the file to hone the edge two things are needed: fire and friction.  Solomon, in all his wisdom, understood that we need the same thing, especially in the blind spots.  We need fire; the healthiest relationships include elements of passion and purification.  We need friction; the healthiest relationships include the qualities of proximity and pressure.  In order to make it from one point in life to another without damage, we need a friend who is close enough to care and strong enough to say what needs saying.

It is my firm belief that this type of friendship is a gift from God.  He blesses us with people who will point out what is in our blind spots because they love us and want the best for us.  It is in our best interest to foster those who will bring fire and friction into our life, so that we can avoid the flames.  I thank God for my wife, my second set of eyes.  I pray you have someone similar to her with whom you can ride along.

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

Do You Follow?

I would say that I am an avid follower of the Boston Red Sox.  I watch the games (typically on television) and listen to all levels of commentary from sports radio.  I worry when the bases are loaded with Yankee base runners and cheer when the team pulls it out in the ninth.  I offer suggestions for lineups and complain about roster moves.  I use “we” and “us”, not “they” and “them”; I have been known to say such things as “we are going to the playoffs” and “the bullpen lost us the game”.   I may call myself an avid follower of the Red Sox, but I am not.  I am simply a fan.

Merriam-Webster defines a fan (actually, a fanatic) as ‘a person who is extremely enthusiastic about and devoted to some interest or activity’.  That is what I am as relates to the Red Sox.  Whatever the outcome might be of a single game or the entire season, my life and livelihood are never disrupted.  I will never get a million-dollar contract after a great year or cut after a poor one.  I need not save the date for the day I ride through Boston at a Duck Boat parade.  Alex Cora, the field manager, and Dave Dombrowski, the general manager, are never going to ask my opinion or consider my suggestions for the team.  I am not part of the “we”; I am not one of “us”.

Some of us have a similar sense of ‘following’ Christ as we do ‘following’ a sports team:  we can attend the game, or not; we can have strong opinions about how things ought to go, but they amount to nothing more than talk show fodder;  I can say that I am a part of the team, but never put on a uniform or play my position.  I do not attend the team meetings or do the conditioning work in the off-season.  Sometimes we act as if all we want is the glory based upon the sacrifice of another without having to do anything more than watch when I feel like it.  We mistake following Christ as nothing more than being a fan of God’s only begotten.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”   Matthew 16:24

So, are you a fan of Jesus or an actual follower?  Jesus had a completely different conception of “following”.  When we follow Jesus, it means a denial of self.  We must be willing and able to refuse ourselves: our opinions, preferences, schedules and feelings.  Then we are free to accept the Lord’s best for us.  When we follow Jesus, it means taking up our cross.  We must be willing to humble ourselves; certainly the cross of Jesus’ day was an instrument of death, but it was more than that – it was an instrument of dehumanization and disgrace (after all, Jesus could have simply said that we need to lay down our lives, but taking up our cross frames our acceptance of shame for His glory).  Following Jesus will cost us everything.

But we cannot simply leave things there.  Yes, there are costs to following Jesus, and they are dire and deep.  But, as Paul proclaims, the gains of following Jesus are so much greater.  We are shown forgiveness.  We are blessed with adoption.  We are given purpose and hope.  We are equipped to live abundantly.

Follow Jesus, not as a casual fan but as a member of His team.

Highly Favored

Being an introvert by nature, I tend to think out (in greater detail than may be healthy) scenarios that may of may not ever be founded in reality.  After this week’s Sunday School lesson on James 2, I have been fixated on what I might do if a celebrity came to Calvary to worship.  My mind conjured questions: What person of influence, wealth or status might grace us with their presence?  How would they be greeted?  What engagement might be biblically appropriate?  I follow the rabbit-trails of thought that make me reason that a new member of a local sports franchise might come to Calvary; Patriots players are out (they play on Sundays), as are Red Sox players (playoffs and all), so I think about Gordon Hayward, the Celtic star who once said in an interview that “[going to church has] always been a staple; something I try to do.”

So, what would I do if Gordon Hayward came to church on Sunday?  Would I do more than I would for a neighbor?  Would I offer him a special seat?  Would I ask him to offer a few words during the ‘announcements’ in the service of worship?  Would I ask for a photo or an autograph?  Would I post a quick update to social media, stating, ‘Guess who came to church this morning’?  Would I ask for tickets to the next game, purely for ministry purposes?  What would the Bible tell me is right and proper?

My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism.  James 2:1 (NIV)

The Scriptures tell us that we must not show favoritism, the practice of giving unfair preferential treatment to one person or group at the expense of another.  We must not give something better to some at the expense of others.  The words of James’ letter to the churches tells us that we give special attention to the rich by offering a good seat while demanding that the poor stand in a back corner.  So, if Gordon Hayward comes to Calvary this Sunday, I will treat him like anyone else: I will shake his hand and ask what brought him to church; I will seek his prayer requests and opportunities for praise as I extend the opportunity to everyone in attendance; and I will share with him the good news of Jesus Christ.

Instead of favoritism, we ought to show favor, the practice of showing kindness beyond what is due or usual.  We are expected to show favor to all those who come in the doors of the church.  So that if a visitor, whether wealthy and powerful or weak and poor, joins in worship at Calvary I will treat them all with kindness – I will speak with dignity, offer inclusion, express equity and advance grace.  If we offer preferential treatment to everyone, we are not showing favoritism but favor.  On that day, we will give the best seat to anyone who opens the door – saint or sinner – with the hope that grace will abound.

Do me a favor: visit us some Sunday morning and we will show you favor in return.

Twenty One and Wonderful

One hundred sixty-one weeks ago, my firstborn, my son, turned twenty-one.  At the time, a full three years and 30 days ago, I wrote a blog urging his responsible alcohol use.  Earlier this week a similar thing happened again: my daughter, my only daughter, turned twenty-one.  This time, however, her alcohol consumption was not my primary concern.  I am worried and afraid of so much more.  Perhaps these fears are attributable to their differing temperaments or their differing experiences.  Whatever the reason, I am more concerned, more melancholic, about Rebekah becoming a full-fledged adult than I did about Jonathan.

As I write this, I am left wondering why.  It is not as if I have ever ascribed to a double-standard; I would never say apologetically that ‘boys will be boys’, nor that ‘a woman’s place is in the home’.  Yet, in light of all that is swirling around in the world (not the least of which is the #metoo movement), I am worried about the world we have created and the environment we have fostered for the women we love.  I want my adult daughter – no, all our adult daughters – to be valued for her character and nothing else.

Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.”  Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life.  And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain.  Philippians 2:14-16

My hope for my adult daughter, who, with every passing birthday, moves further away from the little girl I remember, is that she will shine like a star in this warped generation.  I pray that she will be light in the darkness.  As she steps ever closer into the spheres of grown-upness, I trust that she will not let anyone but God alone define her, let no one on earth demean her and allow no man to destroy her by refusing to take no for an answer.

You have been made in the very image of God.  You are His workmanship, created to accomplish the work He wants you to do.  You are, therefore, perfectly quirky, perfectly suited to do what you do.  If anyone tells you otherwise, they are a liar.

You are a child of God.  You have a royal inheritance.  You are somebody.  Again, if anyone tells you otherwise, they are a liar.

You are precious in His sight.  You, just being you, have an inestimable value to God.  You need not do anything to prove you are worthy of love or to prove you are capable of loving.  And again, if anyone tells you otherwise…you know…liar.

I wish the world were a different place, but then again, I wish I had the riches to buy you a pony when you were eight.  The world is full of broken hurting people, some of whom are happiest making more broken hurting people: do not become one of them.  Run from those who seek you harm.  Refuse to entertain ungodly advances.  Remember that you are here to shine.  Remain as wonderful as we all know you are.

 

Photo by Aubrey Fernandez on Unsplash

Common Courtesy

I am tired of it all.  I am done with being cut off in traffic when the other car entering the flow refuses to ‘zipper’ in,  with being interrupted before I can complete a sentence, with reaching the buffet table and finding empty dishes because the guy in front of me took more than appropriate, with running out of the public park because dog owners de-leash their pets – a cannot tell by its gait that she’s friendly – and with neglecting to bag her poop, with having a door close in my face because the person in front of me sneaks passed the coffee shop door as it closes (as if they are auditioning for “Mission Impossible”) and with the general absence of please and thank you by society.  Call me a curmudgeon if you’d like, but I am desperate for some common courtesy.

In today’s vernacular ‘courtesy’ is synonymous ‘free’ or ‘extra’ – courtesy calls from a service provider, courtesy vans from the auto body shop or courtesy phones found in hotel lobbies.  But its original meaning had more to do with characteristics of politeness and manners.  It is this latter definition that I miss in today’s interactions; I miss males acting as gentlemen and females acting as ladies.  At some point in my lifetime, our culture shifted and began valuing entitlement and individual rights over mutual respect and civility.  Many of the lessons I learned in elementary school – the practices of sharing, waiting one’s turn and refraining from unkind comments – are summarily ignored by a large segment of our population.

We need to be reminded of the words of Jesus:

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.  Matthew 7:12

This sentence, commonly called “The Golden Rule”, is perhaps the second most familiar statement of Christ (the first being John 3:16).  God Incarnate told His followers nearly 2,000 years ago that we are to treat other people the way we want to be treated.  With a greater or lesser degree of success, we all have been wrestling with our obedience to this command since it was first uttered.  We attempt to work the angles, balancing our needs with the needs of others, often failing because we resolve the tension with faulty math: if I hold the door for one or two people, those two turn into an untold number; I then end up at the end of the line and face delays that no one should be required to face; therefore, I cannot hold the door for you.  My needs are paramount.

But when everyone makes similar computations, and I fear that this is our present reality, Jesus’ words are ignored and no one is treated they way they want to be treated.  Everyone does what they want and common courtesy is but a relic of the past, like hand-written letters and house calls.  All is not lost, however, and God’s word will never return empty: if a few of us choose courtesy and champion kindness, the culture can change over time.   Join me in following the golden rule; it might encourage other to do the same toward you.

Photo by Matt Collamer on Unsplash  

 

Jingle Jangle Jingle

As part of a discussion with my family over Sunday’s sermon, my eldest stated that he was humored by the possibility of God’s bestowal of the spiritual gift of provocation.  His comment was based on the phrase “spur one another on” in Hebrews 10:24, a peculiar Greek word (παροξυσμός) which literally means “with a point”; the only other time the word is used in the New Testament (Acts 15:39) it is translated as “a sharp disagreement”.  The writer of the book of Hebrews was inspired to tell the church to look for ways to sharply provoke our fellow believers.

The term ‘spur on’ is a wonderful word picture of this process of provocation.  It conjures images of a race horse and jockey, working together as a team, to reach the optimal outcome.  The jockey is kicking his mount in the hind quarters and the horse is increasing its efforts.  At the end of the race, the horse, which endured the sting of provocation, is the champion and the jockey, the source of the provocation is the one who drapes the victor in flowers (quick question: horseracing’s Triple Crown was won this past June: what was the horse’s name?  And who was his jockey?  More of us can remember Justify, but few would come up with jockey Mike Smith).  ‘Spurring on’ may not be pleasant for the horse in the moment, but the resulting rewards cannot be underestimated.

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds….  Hebrews 10:24

The writer of Hebrews tells us to consider (literally, to look upon) one another for the spurring on toward love and good deeds.  The Holy Spirit inspired a first century author to urge the church to look for ways to provoke one another.  This provocation, this calling forth with sharpness, propels the believer toward acts and attitudes that convey love and compassion.  It appears that these virtues – love and compassion – are not always instinctual, logical or natural.  We all have times when we revert to pettiness, anger and selfishness and need a good kick in the pants to motivate us to pursue the goal set before us.

So, perhaps there is a spiritual gift of provocation, a God-given ability to call one another forth with sharpness so that we all may glorify God to the fullest.  Perhaps there is also a need among God’s people to accept that ‘spurring’ with grace and gratitude, knowing the intent of our ‘jockey’ is the attaining of our very best effort.  No one wants to hear that they need to love the heartless or hurt for the homeless; most of us are comfortable loving who we love and helping who we help.  Then we wrestle with the truth that God’s love and mercy is greater than our expressions of them, and that we need someone to remind us that we are able to do more than we think we are capable of doing.

So, appreciate those whom God uses to spur you on.  Appreciate those whom God uses to agitate you to love deeper and provoke you to act kinder.  Appreciate those with sharp words intended to soften your heart.

I Will Be Candid

Yesterday was my son David’s last 1st day of school.  I was hoping to post on social media a pair of pictures: one of his 1st day in kindergarten and one on his 1st day of 12th grade.  I thought we had digital images from 2006, but, alas, our digital camera was purchased just prior to the birth of our youngest in December of 2007.  I am sure that I have a physical photo in a presently unavailable box somewhere, but it would not be found on my laptop.  However, in the midst of the search, Jeanine and I laughed and cried over ten years of captured moments.

We began with the 1st day of school pictures of the last ten years, then moved on to birthdays and Christmas.  We saw pictures of vacations and awards ceremonies.  We clicked through church events and graduations.  Some of the images were posed and prepared, but many were candid and spontaneous.   It is the candid shots that are the most delightful.  They are the ones that represent what is real.

There were images of that holiday when everyone cried at dinner, of the birthday where the kids were fighting over cake and ice cream, and of the random day where one of the children played with the camera.  It is these stolen moments, when raw emotions like love, joy or rage are on full display.  They are genuine: small faces with squinting or swollen eyes, mouths agape or lips pursed; they are goofy and gawky, slightly blurred by motion or misfocus.  They are life.  That is what elicited our titters and tears.  The beauty of those candid photos on my computer is that they enable us to gain a glimpse of the inner self – my (and my family’s) true fragile, flawed, fool-hearty, frail and fabulous nature.

Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.  1 Peter 3:4 (NIV)

While the above-mentioned verse relates primarily to women, the truth it contains, in context is that there is a difference between the outward appearance and the inner self.  The world celebrates the outward appearance but the Lord values to inner person.  The selfies and pictures of perfect foods and vacations on social media are a charade; they are staged and stylized.  They capture the ideal of outward appearance.  I would rather hold onto the unfading beauty of my family’s inner selves.  I want to value their gentle and quiet spirit, warts and all.

A few weeks ago, I posted about my family portrait experience.  These portraits are essential to capture a moment.  But I will hold onto those fuzzy candids of my precious children, even though the images make my children cringe, because that is how I capture and hold onto what we are.  I love those little beauties standing on porches for the past 20 years and I appreciate the technology that allows me to remember how blessed I am through all the realities of life.