How does that old saying go? “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Seems that my family is entering another season of transition: Joshua is entering his Middle School years, David is off to college, Rebekah is finishing college, and we are moving (again). As we navigate these changes over the next few months, we are seeking God’s wisdom and provision. We are asking questions that will only be answered by some sort of divine intervention. I write all this not to solicit advice, but rather to seek prayer for His provision and direction in the days ahead from those who are so inclined.
Transitions come in all shapes and sizes. Everyone goes through times of relocation, recalibration and recuperation. We cannot eliminate transitions, but we can anticipate them and appreciate them. Transitions offer us all the opportunity to eliminate the clutter that accumulates in life and acknowledge the course corrections that every life must experience. Transitions provide us with times to cleanse ourselves from the toxins that sap us of life and place us in environments for growth. Transitions, like every form of change, are truly challenging, but when navigated properly they can be a blessing.
The author of Hebrews has wisdom from God for all those entering into a season change:
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. Hebrews 12:1-2
We need heed God’s advice to run the race of our life with perseverance. According to Merriam-Webster, perseverance is the continued effort to do or achieve something despite difficulties, failure, or opposition. Life is fraught with difficulties, failure, or opposition that can either frustrate us or fuel us. God’s encouragement to all of us is to continue exerting the effort necessary to accomplish our goals.
We need to contemplate that there is a course marked out for us by the creator of the universe. We each have a unique path, filled with peaks and valleys, that we are called to complete. We could, I suppose, choose to run someone else’s race and reach a place that will not fully satisfy, but it would be better to remain on the road that God has established to bring us where we ought to go.
We need to fix our eyes on Jesus: He has run this race before and now waits for us at the finish line. He is the pioneer (or author or source) of our faith – He is the one who is trustworthy and reliable. He is the perfecter of our faith – He is the one who teaches us how to finish strong and avoid the distractions that drown our dreams. He will lead us to the right and proper places when we trust in Him.
Would it be easier if life was absent of adversity, where we all were following the same formula and where it all works out in the end? Sure. But life is not like that. Our lives are continually in flux and difficulties and detours must be expected. Thankfully, we have a focal point, our Savior, who waits for us at our ‘forever’ home. All we need to do is stay on course until we reach the finish line.
Recently, I have been watching a captivating show on Netflix called “Nail’d It!” According to the streaming service’s website, the program is described in this way: “Home bakers with a terrible track record take a crack at re-creating edible masterpieces for a $10,000 prize. It’s part reality contest, part hot mess.” Here is what happens during each 30-minute episode: three amateur home cooks, with limited time, resources and experience try to copy baked goods worthy of Pinterest created by professional bakers with unlimited time, resources and experience. The facsimiles never quite match the originals, but that is what makes the show so delightful. The home bakers work so hard and fail so often, incurring the good-natured ribbing of the diverse panel of judges. Yes, the end-products are woefully awful in comparison, but they are also delightfully ambitious.
This show appeals to be because it turns a particular cultural fascination on its head – capturing perfection through a post on social media. There are millions of selfies that go unposted because of some imperceptible flaw that the sole picture posted does not contain. There are hours devoted to staging furniture and furnishings so that uploaded photos of real estate are displayed in the best light. We rarely expose our sub-par efforts, let alone our failures, to the scrutiny of public opinion. Unless it is perfect, we are left to assume it is without value. Social media has created a cultural expectation of quality where ‘good’ is rarely good enough.
Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth. 2 Timothy 2:15
I think Paul would have a tough time adapting to our culture, replete with social media’s expectations of perfection. When he wrote to Timothy, he encourages him to give his best effort and, therefore, never feel needless shame. He did not say that Timothy should cover the façade of life’s messiness with a veneer of superficial perfection, pretending that he could master every aspect of life and ministry. Perhaps there is a blessing in knowing that we cannot do everything perfectly, but that we can always do our best. Life is not expected to look like a magazine photo-shoot. Life is often troubling to look at and imprecise, and that should be okay.
One of the more redemptive aspects of “Nail’d It!” is that the judges place a value on presentation, but they also value taste. If it doesn’t look pretty but is delicious, the judges may still declare that entry the winner. Mastering the fundamentals of baking counts for something. Mastering the fundamentals of life and living counts, too. This is true when it comes to relationships, service, ministry, faith, communication, compassion and about a million other things. There is something deeply biblical in that. Life does not always look pretty but treating the ingredients of life and living properly will, at worst, make it palatable. Handled properly, it may even be delicious.
The cake with the elevated teapot is not the norm. The photo of the beachside sunset is not typical. The brochure with all the smiling faces is probably not real. But the simple cake, the salt air and the full spectrum of human emotions are what life is composed of…and often times it is delicious.
Last Thursday night, I was captivated by a contest televised on ESPN: the 92nd Annual Scripps National Spelling Bee. Let me say that I am not an advocate for the cultural predilection toward presenting “participation awards” (the ubiquitous practice of giving everyone on the team a trophy, regardless of the score); both winning and losing has the ability to build character and excellence ought to be recognized. So, as I began watching the ‘evening finals’, beginning with round nine where sixteen children were still competing, I was very-much looking forward to seeing a champion crowned and the other 15 children cheered as they walked off the stage, defeated but undaunted.
The ninth round of words was perfectly executed – all 16 mastered the words they were given. Then, over the next 5 rounds, eight participants misspelled their word and exited the competition. At that point, the remaining eight spellers broke the system, correctly spelling the next 47 words. It was announced at one point that they were running out of words and, after a few more rounds, all those still spelling would win. After a total of 20 rounds, the directors of the bee declared all the remaining contestants the winner of the competition. Rishik Gandhasri, age 13 (who spelled ‘auslaut’), Erin Howard, 14 (‘erysipelas’), Saketh Sundar, 13 (‘bougainvillea’), Shruthika Padhy, 13 (‘aiguillette’), Sohum Sukhatankar, 13 (‘pendeloque’), Abhijay Kodali, 12 (‘palama’) Christopher Serrao, 13 (‘cernuous’) and Rohan Raja, 13 (‘odylic’) all walked away with the $50,000 and the trophy as champions of the National Spelling Bee.
This was not, in any way, a participation award. It was a pronouncement of excellence, as each one perfectly executed the task before them. These eight great spellers finished the competition without error and were declared the winner. The unfolding of this competition reminded me of the words of Paul to the church in Corinth:
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 1 Corinthians 9:24
These young competitors all expected that there would be only one winner and they prepared accordingly. They competed to win the prize and they finished the competition in first place. They won – they all won – together, giving one another High-fives and cheering on one another’s correct (always correct) efforts. The rules of the competition did not change, only the fact that many finished perfectly, together.
In many ways, I saw a glimpse of the heavenly in the very early moments of May 31st. The conclusion of the spelling bee reminded me of the concluding moments of life: we are diligently competing for the prize, surrounded by our fellow competitors, when the director of the race, the Lord Almighty, states that all who cross the finish line first will be declared winner. At that moment, we interlock elbows and all step across the finish line together, all securing the prize. We celebrate one another, realizing that we are not competing against the other runners, but the course itself. All those still standing at the end will receive the prize.
One last word to spell: H-A-L-L-E-L-U-J-A-H!
“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Abraham Lincoln
Sunday is Mother’s Day, when three out of four of us will purchase a greeting card and over two-thirds of us will buy flowers for our mom (or our children’s mom). It is the least we can do for those who have given us so much of themselves. There is something in our mother’s kisses that are more therapeutic than the best medicine and something in her voice that is more comforting than the best psychotherapy. Mom was likely the first to read to us, pray for us and cry with us. She made sure, for most of us, that we had a birthday cake on our special day and a new outfit for the first day of school. It is right and good to honor and remember the ones who endured painful labor and sleepless nights for her children: God bless Mom!
As I think about Mother’s Day, my thoughts come back to a commercial I recently saw for the Portal from Facebook. In the commercial, actor Neil Patrick Harris decides to call and celebrate his mother on Mother’s Day using the Portal from Facebook. He sees that she’s not alone; she has company: the mothers of Serena and Venus Williams, Odell Beckham Jr., Snoop Dogg and Dwayne Johnson among others. While Neil knows who they are, most people watching the commercial are unfamiliar with the women on the video-chat screen and are given only a clue by Neil’s references – Odell’s mom, Jonah’s mom and the like. These women, no doubt, have done great things in their own right but are willingly recognized as someone’s mom. We ourselves may not actually know some women’s names, only that they are so-and-so’s mom. God bless you, Neil’s mom.
I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. 2 Timothy 1:5 (NIV)
One of the moms of the Bible who lived a life of seemingly quiet obscurity is Lois – the mom of Eunice, who was the mom of Timothy. All we know about this woman is what we read in the verse I have quoted. All we have as a historical record is that a sincere faith lived in her. There are so many unanswered questions: Did she have hobbies or a favorite story? Where did she grow up? How long was she married? Was she like the Proverbs 31 woman and worked outside (as well as inside) the home? Was she tall, attractive and wealthy or petite, plain and poor? All we know is her name, her heart and her grandson. But, in God’s economy, that is enough. God has blessed us with moms like Lois.
Happy Mother’s Day to all those who are known by the world only as someone’s mom. God knows you are much more than that: you are leaders of industry, educators, medical experts, investors, inventors and artists – and then you go out the front doors of your home and do even more. Happy Mother’s Day!
The other day, an article in Relevant Magazine came to my attention. It reported on a new Instagram© account, PreachersNSneakers, that shows influential Christian leaders wearing high priced fashion. According to the article, the internet poster shows, among many examples, one pastor wearing SBB Jordan 1 sneakers, which cost $965, and another pastor wearing $1,045 Adam & Yves Saint Laurent boots. With all fairness, it is unclear who paid for or provided the pictured church leaders with their footwear or clothing, whether it was a personal purchase, an unsolicited gift or a promotional perk. Whatever the source, the pictures are shocking the sensibilities of many in the Christian community.
The article made me think about my choices, especially a few weeks ago on Easter Sunday, of dress. I wore a new suit (purchased at a ‘Buy 1, Get 2 Free’ sale), a new shirt and tie (both acquired while on sale at Kohl’s), a pair of old, but polished shoes, and new socks. It is these socks that give me pause: they were a gift from my daughter, who purchased them in Rome at the Vatican’s gift shop; they were produced by the tailor of the Pope. They may be the most luxurious item I have worn in a great while.
I remember commenting on the socks throughout the morning, glowingly reflecting that my “Pope socks” were a gift. I have no idea how much they cost my daughter – perhaps as little as $10 or as much as $50 (to which my thoughts scream, “Heavens, no!”) I gave no thought to the challenges some in the congregation may be facing: was there a participant in worship that wondered if I had paid for socks that would have filled their car with gas or bought them a weekend’s worth of groceries? This train of thought has subsequently been derailed as I think of the luxuries I enjoy that may come at the expense of ministry – thoughts relating to how much I spend on coffee or dining out or fashion accessories.
Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil. Proverbs 15:16
It is easy to judge people we only read about because their sneakers are more valuable than our cars. It is harder to correctly assess these things as they relate to our own personal spending habits. The line between necessities and luxuries can be difficult to locate. Most of us do not need personally tailored suits or dresses, brand name sneakers or stilettos, or homes with ten bedrooms. But we do need shirts, shoes and shelters. The optics of excess lie in the details, both in what we spend and the cultural surrounding in which we spend. Manhattan has a different standard than Montgomery of what is a necessity versus a luxury .
I am choosing to continue wearing my “Pope socks” but I will graciously refuse to accept any gift which includes a pair of Yeezy Boost 350 V2s. I will continue to try to give more to others than I luxuriously spend on myself. Hopefully, that we keep me from appearing on Instagram in a Tesla®.
The other night, I was watching a political town meeting on one of the all-news channels. One of the candidates stated proudly that he was a soccer player, and my ears immediately perked up. I was a soccer player, too. I thought to myself that perhaps I should support this candidate, with our mutual enjoyment of all things relating to the pentagon-patched ball. With the diversity of the field, it would be nice if I shared a common interest with one of them. But, before I followed him on social media, I did a little research about his sports-related profession.
It is true that, as a child, this candidate was enrolled in an organized league and regularly participated in formal games, and it is said that he was quite the striker when he was ten. He went to all the practices – some might say religiously – and was proficient at all the drills. However, during High School and college, those formal games and organized leagues were abandoned for more informal forms of the game. He still participated in pick-up games and occasionally kicked the ball around, but it was always on his schedule and the rules were loosely observed. But he was still, by definition, a soccer player.
After college, this candidate would take his soccer ball to a local park when he schedule allowed and began changing the rules of play (subtly at first but later more egregiously), so that before long, when he did play with his soccer ball, he allowed the use of hands and he tallied seven points for each goal. In essence, he was playing a hybrid of football and soccer, if ‘foot-ccer’ was played on a boundless field. The purist among us might argue that he was no longer playing soccer, but he was still, truth be told, kicking around a soccer ball.
At present, the candidate has not touched a soccer ball in many years, and some wonder if he even owns one any longer. His schedule no longer permits him to go to the park, and even if it did, the ways that other soccer players play the game at the parks that he once frequented is displeasing to his sense of the game. But he lives in a region of the country where people view soccer players more favorably than players of other sports, so he continues to profess that he still participates in the game. But he is no longer, by definition, a soccer player.
Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. James 1:22
I appreciate that some people play soccer and other people do not. I appreciate that some people once played soccer but play the game no longer. But I have trouble with the conception of our culture that playing soccer is anything that the player thinks that means, regardless of the rules or the history of the game. If you are happy just kicking a ball around in the backyard, please do not call yourself a soccer player.
“But it was love, after all, that made the cross salvific, not the sheer torture of it.” – Gregory Boyle, Tattoos on the Heart
This year at Calvary, as we remember Holy Week, we are reflecting on the words of Mark’s gospel. It was Mark who recorded that the crucifixion of Jesus began at the third hour (Mark 15:25) and, as a side note, we also know from Matthew’s account that it lasted until the ninth hour (Matthew 27:46). Six hours is a long time to do anything: imagine being invited to attend the screening of a six-hour movie or enjoy a six-hour buffet; think about babysitting a three-year old for six hours or waiting for news from the ER staff for six hours. These feats of endurance are nothing compared to what Jesus endured on the cross.
Crucifixion was a particularly ghastly method of capital punishment. As was the case with Jesus, the victim was tied or nailed to a large wooden beam and left to hang until eventual death from exhaustion and asphyxiation. Eventually the victim would slump due to muscular fatigue and the diaphragm would compress the lungs, depriving the vital organs of oxygen. This macabre ‘dance’ – lifting the body with the arms and legs to breathe until they could no longer support the weight and collapse again – went on for hours, and sometimes, to speed up the process, the ones responsible for guarding the condemned would break their legs.
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8
To paraphrase the words of apostle Paul: God, in Christ, showed us the extent of his love through his death. The fact is that thousands of people were humiliated and horribly executed by means of a cross, and none of those deaths, in and of themselves, save us from our sin. The cross is what we call the instrument of death, but it is not its cause. The cause of Jesus’ death was love, willful, active and limitless love. He chose to endure the dehumanization and shameful humiliation of crucifixion (after all, he could have been executed at any time and in any age of human history) to fulfill the will of the Father, to serve as a sacrificial substitute for our sin, and in so doing expressed his love.
I would like to say that there are a few things lasting six hours that I would do for a loved one. I would like to say that I would wait in the wind and rain, dig a mile-long trench or drive through a blizzard. I would like to say that, but I am not sure I would do that. I cannot imagine the great love required to endure the cross for six hours, let alone six minutes. I cannot fully comprehend how much Jesus loves a sinner like me. But I can appreciate it. In my mind, I can picture myself at the foot of the cross, staring up at my suffering savior; I ask him, “How much do you love me?” and with arms outstretched, he replies, “This much!”
Remember to remember Him this Good Friday.
Logan Airport’s Terminal E may be the happiest place in Boston. It is where passengers of international flights arrive and where hundreds of people each hour walk through sliding glass doors to greet awaiting friends and family. We were there on Monday night, standing behind the half-wall separating the weary world-travelers from the waiting masses. My wife and I were hoping to gain our first glimpse of our daughter in the last three months, who had spent that time in Europe studying abroad. We saw impeccably clad flight attendants and uniformed flights crews, as well as men and women with heavily laden baggage carts. Then, finally, we saw the familiar face that we had come see. Our little girl was home.
While she was away, we spoke with our daughter via FaceTime, a marvelous app that allows Apple© users to video chat. Those weekly conversations were wonderful, and I praise God that she studied abroad in such a technologically advanced time in human history, but they were not the real thing. There is a vast difference between seeing someone on a 2½” x 4” screen and seeing them face-to-face, just as there was a difference for those of previous generations between reading someone’s words in a letter and hearing that same person’s voice. There is nothing quite like the real thing.
I can only imagine that this same sentiment was felt by Mary, the sister of Lazarus. Jesus was passing through the town of Bethany on his way toward Jerusalem – it was the day before what we now call Palm Sunday – and a dinner was held in his honor. Martha was cooking, Lazarus was sitting with friends and Mary suddenly appears in the midst of the group and pours perfume on Jesus’ feet. It was an act of extravagant devotion. After a moment of uproar over the resources wasted by Mary, Jesus silences the party guests with the words, “You will not always have me (among you).” Mary appreciated that Jesus had come ‘home’, and the only suitable means of expressing that joy was to perform some lavish gesture. For us, it was getting our younger boys out of the house and enduring rush hour traffic to greet our princess; for others, it was balloons or handmade signs or flowers.
That week that began with an expression of joy for sharing in His presence would end the following Sunday with an expression of love that now and forever serves as a guarantee that all those who trust in Christ will see Him again. Some great and glorious day there will be a reunion, a parting of the skies that will reunite the risen Lord with those He came to redeem, that will rival even the embraces experienced at Terminal E. The greatest of blessings afforded us through Easter is that, though Jesus has gone away, he will come back. We will see Him again. Hallelujah!
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:3
Last weekend the Red Sox began their new season, exactly five months after winning the World Series, concluding their best statistical season in franchise history. Throughout the season, they led the league in wins (108), RBIs (829) and team batting average (.286). To top it all off, their star player, Mookie Betts, was named the AL MVP. By all means of measuring success, the Red Sox had a historic season. The city was blessed to enjoy a rolling rally throughout the streets and the sporting goods stores in the area sold a bunch of merchandise celebrating the team’s victory over every foe.
Last weekend the Red Sox began their new season and, as of this posting, proceeded to lose more games than they had won. The good news in anticipating the current season is that most of the key elements in prior success is still in place for the present campaign. The bad news in anticipating the current season is that past performance is no guarantee of success in the present. The slate has been wiped clean and the wins of the past season no longer matter. Every team, both winners like the Red Sox and non-winners like the Baltimore Orioles (who amassed a mere 47 wins last season), starts on Opening Day in the same place.
As I think about the Red Sox, I also think about myself. I remember all the victories I won last season: I battled temptation and won more times than I lost. I faced discouragement, home and away, and won the season series; I went into the stadium of sexual purity and came away with a win; I stood in ‘the box’ against the enemy’s strongest arms (hurlers with names like lying, cheating and stealing) and bested them with base hits and deep bombs. There were days that I did not have my best stuff, but over the course of the entire season I ended up with many more wins than losses.
No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it. 1 Corinthians 10:13
But, like baseball, that was last season and while I have many of the same tools and much of the same training, I still must engage the enemy. And, like baseball, past performance is no guarantee of success in the present. This season, along with the regular adversaries, the measure of victory I have enjoyed has made me vulnerable to other forms of attack from things like personal pride and common complacency. I am going to take it one day at a time, one ‘at-bat’ at a time: I will have to enjoy the success of victory only for a moment, accept the sting of loss only for an instant, and fight the good fight each and every day.
There is no spiritual World Series and the faithfully obedient will not receive a trophy at end of each season. Still, the one who resists and remains after going nine innings with temptation is not without reward. There is, for that one, a crown – of life, of righteousness, of glory – that will never be taken away.
Have a great season!
During Sunday School last Sunday, we looked at the parable of the prodigal son. It may be the most well-known story in the scriptures: a young man asks his father for his share of his estate, which the father grants; upon receiving this windfall, the young man travels to a distant country and wastes the money on wine, women and song; after finding himself broke and alone, a famine struck the place where he was; in order to survive, the young man takes an awful, despicable job feeding pigs; after a while, the young man realizes how much better life was at home and determines to return hope, even if it is only as a servant; while he is travelling the road home, his father sees him far off in the distance and runs to him; the young man is fully restored and his return is celebrated. It is a wonderful story, a reminder that every one of us (the young man) can be welcomed back by God (the father) if we come to our senses and turn back to him.
But what if that is not really the point of the parable? What if the story is not about the young man? In context, this story is the third part of a trilogy of stories: the first part is about the extreme measures a shepherd will take to find one lost sheep and the second part is about the extreme measures a widow will take to find a lost coin; in context, the story is about the extreme measures a father will take to find a lost son. The actions of the sheep are unspectacular, the actions of the coin are immaterial, and (by extension) the actions of the young man are incidental. What if the parable of the prodigal son is really about the loving father?
What if the parable is not really about coming to your senses so that you can be restored? One of the details of the story that is often overlooked relates to a conversation between the father and the older son who remained with him:
‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.’ Luke 15:31
In the story, the father doesn’t forgive and forget; the young man doesn’t get a second chance or another share of the father’s estate. His birth-right was gone and it was not being given back – it was all remaining with the older son. One thing we could learn from this parable is that there are consequences to bad behavior: sin has ripple effects that could capsize relationships, ship-wreck careers and jettison treasures. What if the parable of the prodigal son is really about the gracious reconciliation afforded by the father?
What if the most well-known story Jesus ever told was not about us, not about me? What if it was about God, who lovingly allows us to make choices, lovingly allows us to go where we want, and watches the road so that He can be the first to welcome us home? What if it about a father wanting to celebrate finding what was truly lost and truly found? What if it was simply about the depths of a father’s love?
Now that would be some story, indeed!