On Friday, Mourning…

Some 1980 years ago, a humble man knelt in a garden known as Gethsemane that sat at the base of the Mount of Olives. 

Most of the world didn’t know he existed. If they had gazed upon him at this moment they would have told you he was just a man praying in a garden. To those who had felt his touch, heard his voice, or saw him in action, he was a teacher, a rabbi, a prophet, and a miracle worker. Some of them would tell you they had seen him heal the lame and the sick. Some would tell you they were the lame and the sick he had healed. Others would have told you they watched as he had called forth life where death had left its sting just days before. The denizens of Hell knew him on sight. He’d walked on water and turned water into wine.

Not your average dude.

Despite all this, tonight he was troubled and his heart filled with sorrow. He had one more thing to do; one more act of love to perform. If the fear in him that night had won, the world you and I live in would be a very different and darker place.  He knew the road to his next destination would be bumpy, excruciatingly painful and ultimately, the hardest and loneliest steps he had ever walked. In anguish so great that blood dripped from his pores, he prayed only for the will of his Father to be done.

What took place over the next several hours was a travesty of religion and justice. Betrayed by one friend, disowned by another, and abandoned by nearly everyone else, Jesus stood amid a sea of accusations, lies and threats. His accusers were men who could quote the entire book that had spoken about him since Moses scribbled, “In the beginning…” These were the men who supposedly knew God better and served more closely to Him than anyone alive. They were men, who after years of sacrificing animals as the price of sin, completely missed the irony of what they were going to do to this man standing before them. 

His crimes were healing on the Sabbath and claiming to be the Son of God. The sentence was death.

Given to the Roman leader Pilate to be put to death, Jesus was found to be innocent of wrong doing twice; once by Pilate himself and the second by Herod and Pilate. When offered a choice to spare an innocent man or a murderer, the people Jesus had come to serve chose to allow the taker of life to go free, while the giver of life was sent to be crucified.  The mob had won a victory.

For the moment...

First, this innocent and humble man was taken and scourged. While the scholarly judging priests wore garments that gave them power and prestige, the man they hated had his clothes ripped from him, his flesh torn away in chunks, and his blood spilled on the ground. In jest, the Roman guards twisted a garland from bushes that had long, sharp thorns. They forced the thorny crown down on the bleeding man’s head, laughing as they watched the thorns bite into his flesh and blood flow down his swollen, bruised face to mingle with the blood pooling around his feet. The guards taunted him further, covering him in a scarlet robe and beating him in the head with a staff they had put in his hands as a joke.l

Beaten severely and most certainly suffering from loss of blood, this man was forced to carry his cross through the streets to Golgotha – the place of the skull. When Jesus could not carry the cross any further, a man named Simon was pulled from the crowd and forced to carry it the rest of the way. Once there, he was placed on the cross with nails pounded through his hands and feet into the wood beneath them. The cross was then raised into place beside the two criminals that were sentenced to die with him. While one of the men taunted Jesus, the other asked Jesus to remember him when he came into his kingdom. In a moment when most would focus on their own misery, Jesus blessed a new traveling companion.

As the day reached noon, the sun stopped shining and supernatural darkness covered the land. At three in the afternoon, Jesus cried out his last words and breathed his last breath. In the temple, the thick curtain that had separated the people from the Holy of Holies was torn in two, from top to bottom. The ground shook and the rocks split apart, causing the tombs to break open. Then, silence. It was finished.

Jesus’ body was taken from the cross and placed in a tomb carved from solid rock. Then, fearing the friends of this humble man might steal the body in order to fool the people into believe he had risen from the dead, the religious leaders requested Pilate to put a guard outside the tomb.

Inside the stone tomb, nothing moved. The scent of expensive spices and herbs filled the air. 

Outside, the tomb's guard checked the seal and watched intently for anything out of the ordinary.

The disciples were in shock. The Mary's were in tears.

Meanwhile, Heaven counted to three…

Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble...

In my neverending desire to own more books than I can ever read, I acquired a copy of Kyle Idleman's "The End of Me: Where Real Life in the Upside-Down Ways of Jesus Begins".

It's a great read and it is exactly the book I needed right now. I highly recommend it. Kyle is transparent and his dialog is great.

One thing I came across as I was reading it is a slang term that has arisen over the past few years called a "humbrag".

Yes, that's humbrag not humbug.

A humbrag is defined in the urban dictionary as a "person that wants to be humble, however, takes time to brag about something." Interestingly enough, a humbug is defined as "language or behavior that is false or meant to deceive people".

If you'd like to see some interesting examples of the humbrag phenomena, you can look here. You might have seen some of these hoastings (humble boastings) already if you've seen posts or tweets sporting a #humbrag keyword.

So, let me see if I have this right: there is a thriving aspect of public posting wherein the attempt of illustrating humility is overshadowed by the glaring success of bragging about oneself.

Why am I only hearing about this term now? I must assume it is due in part to my own staggering humility. Delivering Meals-on-Wheels to 50 beautiful, wonderful people from the backseat of a stretch limo would be the most humbling part of my day. and I would most likely do that before breakfast, cuz that is just how I Roll(s Royce). Caught up in such attempts to save my little corner of the world, it is no wonder I miss out on such high-handed manners of conveying one's thoughts to a world that can appreciate all that I am doing for it.

And of course, I do it all without any concern for the safety of my bodyguards.

You're welcome everyone. I assure you, it's the least I could do.

Seriously (sort of), hearing about this has made me look at everything I do, say or write in order to see if I am sprinkling myself in glitter and stage lights while simultaneously depicting a moment of supposed humility.

The beginning of Matthew 6 sounds dangerously close to suggesting that once upon a time, the keyword #humbrag might have been dancing across the bottoms of documents signed by politicians and of course held ever so humbraggartly by the Pharisees.

"So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full." Matthew 6:2 NIV

Seems many people might have been giving to others in order to look pious when, according to what Jesus said here, if God didn't give you a comb and a beak, maybe you ought to leave the crowing to those who were given the job.

That's a rooster reference for you city dwellers.

I wonder if any of the disciples might have some similar examples...

"JC dropped the bomb and washed our feet. Feeling the weight of my 30 silver pcs!" #newlandowner #humbrag

"So tough to get warm on the beach after walking on water." #JesusMyLifeSavior #humbrag

"I got to see thousands of people get saved by Jesus when I preached and cast out demons." #HisPowerMyPrayer #humbug

While I'm sure not every example of humbragging is someone intentionally bragging, I would be interested to know how many specifically tailor their messages to be the trite examples they are. Where Twitter is concerned, a misplaced or omitted word expelled to meet the word count could easily cause the tone of one's thought to go from idling humility to revved self-reverence.

Maybe the best way to determine if we're following Jesus' teachings as written in Matthew would be simply to assume that anyone who is truly humble wouldn't be caught in a position to have their sincerity called into question. At the very least, the number of "I"s in your post should be less than the number of "them"s or "Him"s.

Then again, if you find it necessary to crow about what you've done, then I say crow away my friend. The reward is immediate and the gratification as sweet as fresh water to a man in the desert. Just bear in mind, those who seek their honor in this life by their peers may find no one left to hold a candle to when the day is finally done and the One who made it bright returns.

And that's no humbug.

Take Nothing

He glanced at the road ahead of him. The sun was high in the sky and the air was hot and dry. He’d been walking for hours and what little bit of water he had left in his skin when he walked out of the town gates was gone, save for a few drops that were bound to be as hot as the wind washing over him. Holding his hand above his eyes to shade them from the burning sun overhead, he followed the gravel-and-dirt road that stretched out in front of him to a faint outline on the horizon. Then he looked down at the thick layer of dust covering his feet and sandals, at the tattered cloth that covered him from shoulder to ankle, and finally, at his empty hands.

"Take nothing for the journey--no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt."

As Teacher had commanded, he was indeed traveling light. Glancing up at the sun and then back to the horizon he estimated he could make the next town by nightfall.

Hours ticked away as thought after thought and prayer after prayer drifted through his mind and across his lips, giving thanks with each step, each crunch of the rock and dirt shifting beneath his weight. Sweat trickled from his forehead and down his cheek, be he seemed not to care. His focus directed at reaching the next town before night, he ignored the heat of the day and thought of cooler breezes and shade filled with the sounds of victorious singing and celebration.

The short walls of the next town began to rise ahead of him and the road became less empty as those going to and from the small village went about their business. Most paid him little attention, though some eyed him cautiously. Perhaps it was the smile on his face, or maybe his appearance was a little more road-ragged than expected. To those who looked his way he smiled and wished many blessings upon them. Some smiled. Some sneered. Some merely stared. When he asked if any had heard of the Messiah, most simply laughed or looked at him as if he were mad.

Reaching the town gate, his progress became hindered by two guardsmen who quickly rose from their paltry seats in the shade to bar the way past the gate. “State your business.”

            “I’ve come to tell the Good News! I’ve come to bring healing to those in need!” He said.

“What good news? One of the guardsmen asked.

“What healing?” The other queried.

“The Messiah has come and has given me the power to heal in his name! I must tell everyone who will listen!”

The two guardsmen glanced at each other and smiled. Without a word, they nodded to one another and took a step closer.

The guard to his left asked, “Why don’t you tell us all about your messiah, and we will spread the word for ya? That way, you can move on to the next town and won’t have to waste your time here. Okay?”

Frowning slightly, he closed his eyes for a brief moment then opened them again. “Will you allow me in if I am in the company of someone who lives here?”

Rolling his eyes, the guard standing to his right said, “Listen. If you can get anyone in this town to invite you into their home, we will not only let you in, but we will walk behind you proclaiming your good news all the way. Deal?”

His frown shifted up into a broad smile. “Deal.”

(To be continued…)

I Fall the Farthest

I fall the farthest from His grace,
when I am standing still;
It's not the idleness of my hands that lead me away,
but the idleness of my will.

In the quiet moments when peace should reign,
my thoughts drain my resolve,
its wandering lonely in my memories,
that my hope begins to dissolve.

And when I am at my weakest
and I believe I am nothing at all,
that I look down from the edge into nothingness,
and see no bottom to my fall.

"Look up, not down" I hear Him whisper,
and I feel his love soothing my fears,
as He lifts me into His arms,
His comforting voice is the only sound I hear.

He shields me from me,
for as long as I am in need,
and he waits patiently for me to stop trying to control it all,
and just lay it at His feet.

A little bit of fiction, part deux...

           

 (Continued…) A shadow passed over the open refrigerator, startling Margo. She dropped down into a crouching position and turned to face the open kitchen window with wide, panicked eyes. Holding her breath for several long moments, Margo looked intently around the room at all the windows and doors for signs of movement. Slowly she closed her eyes and exhaled, letting the tension drop from her face and shoulders.

                Margo stood and walked timidly toward the window above the kitchen sink. Intently, she looked out in every direction, leaning as far into the screen as she could go in order to see as far as the angle would allow. Finally, she stepped away from the window with a confused look on her face, then shrugged as she walked back to the refrigerator. As she reached out to grab the door and open it, the sound of a door shutting somewhere in the house caused Margo to freeze. Her eyes grew wide as footsteps echoed into the kitchen from beyond the closed door that blocked her view of the hallway beyond. Slowly, Margo crept over to the back door of the kitchen and unlocked it, wincing as the bolt slid back with a loud click. She paused only for a second then yanked open the door and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her as quickly as she could. Her back against the wall beside the kitchen door, Margo could hear the door open into the kitchen from the hallway followed by slow, steady footsteps on the floor, getting louder with each passing moment. Margo looked quickly around for any place she could hide, then headed for the corner of the house away from the kitchen. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she heard the sound of the deadbolt on the kitchen locking back into place. She stopped and peered around the corner of the house quickly then yanked her head back.

Slowly, Margo peeked back around the corner at the two cars sitting in front of the house and the people sitting in them. One of the vehicles, a shiny, red sports car, sat idling with a low rumble that Margo could almost feel vibrating in her teeth. The car looked brand new, as did the woman sitting on the passenger side of the car with thick, black hair and sunglasses.  Margo studied the woman’s face but nothing about her seemed familiar.

Margo then turned her attention to the other car. It was an older model car with four doors and old faded blue paint. The front bumper was missing. She could only make out the thin shadowed face of the driver as he kept nervously turning his back to face the front of the house and then back toward the front of the car. Every few seconds or so he would rev the engine slightly, then peer eagerly at the front of the house. After a few moments of watching the cars, Margo heard the creak of the screen door opening and she turned to see a tall, thin man stroll out of the house and walk quickly toward the red sports car. The dark-haired woman waved eagerly as the man walked around the front of the car to the driver side. He pulled the door open quickly and then waved his hand at the faded blue car. The driver stuck his hand out the window and waved, then stomped on the gas leaving the sound of spinning wheels behind him as he pulled away.

(To Be Continued…)

Words

    

I recently had the distinct pleasure of taking Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University. It was a very informative course and we’re working through the process of implementing much of what we learned while taking the course. I highly recommend taking it, or, at the very least, check out his book The Total Money Makeover.

One thing in particular that Dave said that has stuck with us is the idea that since cash weighs more than a credit card, we will notice the difference in paying with cash more than we would by swiping the card. And man, was he right. Going to the bank to take out the money that we would normally have spent via our debit card was such a weird feeling. Later, when we needed to hand over several bills to pay for something we would normally just swipe and go, it felt much more difficult to spend that money. Even going out to dinner felt different when we paid with cash over using the card. On the one hand, handing over half our entertainment money for the month hurt a little, but on the other hand, I found myself giving more of a tip than I normally would have, as if I wanted someone else to enjoy the weight I was letting go of.

I know – totally weird, right?

I wish I could say my $1.18 a day Diet Dew habit weighed me down enough to stop. Alas, when I try, I still go on and Dew it…

You saw that joke coming, right?

The main point of this post, however, isn’t about Financial Peace University or Dave Ramsey. What I really want to discuss is something else that has weight but I believe is taken for granted much of the time.

This particular thing technically has no weight and could be said to be lighter than air. However, this particular object has the power of life and death, healing and wounding, and in certain situations, the key to immortality.

Neil Kennedy told a story at a Men’s get together wherein his daughter had said to him that she 
needed a new phone. He in return corrected her, by telling her that she wanted a new phone, but didn’t need one.

And there is the crux of my discussion. Words.

They can slice, dice and even make Julian cry.

Who is Julian, you ask? I don’t know – I thought he came with you.

While there’s plenty in our global bowl of dialect-o’s to decipher as awesome or dangerous, it is the words we piece together that are in truth deceptions that are tolerated, even ignored, although their implication and intention are often heavier than our response suggests.

Phrases like “I can’t…”, “I need…”, or “I have to…” can imply that the speaker has no choice in the matter and their desire to do or not do something is restricted by a force or situation that has  held them against their will or they could die if they don’t receive or get something right now.

Right. This. Second.

I’m not saying that any time these words are put together that someone is being misleading. Not at all. We all have moments when we truly need something or can’t do something. However, I do think that there are plenty of times these little beauties are dropped not to imply the lack of anything but patience or desire.

For example:  Can’t

“I can’t help you…” Enter whatever you’re being asked to do and the excuse you want to support the reason why you can’t here. Here are some doozies I’ve heard (and sadly, possibly may have even used at one point in time).

“I can’t help you move. I have to mow the lawn.” Ok, I can admit my lawn gets pretty gnarly when the weather’s been wet and when I start to hear jungle sounds outside the windows, I begin to develop a sense of urgency. Still, I think most people needing help to move would agree this is a bad excuse, and at most, it’s a lie. A truer statement might be, “I’m sorry. I would rather cut my lawn than help you move.”

But that’s not very nice thing to say, D? True enough, and while honest, it isn’t exactly a very loving thing to tell someone. So maybe the lie is meant to spare someone the awful feeling of being told that they are a lower priority than the always-gonna-be-there-Bermuda grass?

Mmhmm. Yeah. Not exactly better in my book…

“I can’t finish that now. I have to get a haircut.” While your scalp may not grow grass as long as your yard will, I’m betting the old pompadour grease and swirl will wait another day.

“I can’t help you shampoo the carpet. I have a date.” Seriously? If it takes you all day to prepare for a date, you are already starting too late and should consider calling it off because she might be too good for you.

Unless it’s a date with your wife. Then this is obviously a true life-or-death situation AND she IS too good for you. As you were.

However, ask yourself – if you stated these situations another, possibly more honest way like “I could but I don’t want to” or “I could but I have other things I have set as a higher priority”, would that make you feel a little different about the situation? About yourself?

Next on the hit parade: Need

Finish this sentence: “I Need…”

If the next word isn’t Jesus, God, or a prayer, stop. The fact that you’re reading this implies you have the capability to survive not having whatever it is you are putting as the subject of your desire and death may only be imminent because you’re reading this while you’re driving or walking.

Yes, there are sincere needs. I just listed 3 of them. Yes, there are times when we truly feel we need something that we don’t actually need, but the desire for it is enough to ball up in the gut. Rent, gas money and food are enough to trigger the need response for sure.

But even those, as precious as they may seem, are not akin to dying if you don’t have them. Yes, there are plenty of people who need those things or they’re going to be in serious trouble. Many times this happens because people don’t want to ask for help or may not know how or who to ask. I know I don’t. No matter how bad I might need it, I hate to ask for anything. Thankfully, I’ve gotten over some of that pride stuff thanks to the Big Man upstairs. If you truly are in need of something, ask. Ask a local church, food bank, or social services. That’s what they’re there for – to help you in times of need.

If however what you need is to be patient and wait until that thing you want so bad comes your way, you might notice a change in your tone when you state “I want”. Saying “I want” all the time instead of “I need” creates a sense of recognition in perhaps how selfish we might be.

“I have to…”

Breathe air? Drink water? Eat food? Beyond these and a few that involve shelter, your family and maybe your job, saying I have to is very similar to I need – I have to do this thing, with my will or against it, else I shall perish from existence. Oh woe is me!

I had a point here – I swear!

The best way I can say this is straight out. If you say “I can’t” when you don’t want to, “I need” when you just want something really bad, or “I have to” when you’re simply choosing to make something a higher priority in your decision making process, own up to it.

No, I am not suggesting you be honest in the sense that you hurt others in the process, although maybe you should so they at least know where they really stand with you.

Be honest with yourself first. Is there truly a reason why you can’t do something, or is it because you don’t want to be inconvenienced? If it’s the latter, then you should go ahead and do it. You’ll probably find that when all is said and done, you’ll feel better than you did before you agreed, especially if that something is helping someone else. Even if it’s something you shouldn’t do, saying “I can’t” implies you’re powerless when in truth, you’re not. Exclaim your weakness to the world and ask someone to join up with you and can help you through it.

Psalm 34:13 says, “keep your tongue from evil and your lips from telling lies.”

Recognize the weight of your words. Examine your words and judge for yourself what the truth is in comparison to what is being said and demand, even if it is only from yourself, that the truth and only the truth be spoken.

In time, you might find yourself with more people to hang out with that have to have nothing more from you than your company, and you don’t need anything more urgently than the One who brought you this far and the One who always provides exactly what you need.

What do you think?

The Gift of Desperation

For our date night tonight, Carol and I had dinner at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, Los Cabos, and enjoyed a free concert put on by KXOJ that starred David Dunn and Among the Thirsty. All are incredible musicians with a desire to serve God and the music that God makes through them is amazing. If you're unfamiliar with their work, I recommend "Completely" by Among the Thirsty and "Today is Beautiful" by David Dunn. 

In between songs, each talked a bit about their life experiences and the ways that God teaches us wisdom. Mr. Dunn spoke of an analogy in which his nephew, who was 3-years old at the time of the story, had a meltdown at Disneyland because he wasn't able to push his younger brother's stroller. It is from witnessing this event that taught him how much kids are a real example of our sin self. Kids have no masks to hide their desires, their anger or their frustrations with life. They lay it out for everyone to see and experience and regardless of the reality of the situation, all they can see is the immediate source of their problem. David pointed out how, if his nephew would have just looked up and away from the source of his problem, he would have realized where he was, that the problem really wasn't that serious, and that his father already had the matter well in hand.

An interesting point, and a very truthful one at that.

The more direct point made during the concert and the focus of the remainder of this post is when Among the Thirsty's front man, Ryan Daniel, discussed how desperation is a gift, because it isn't until we reach the point of desperation, the end of ourselves, that we are able to truly see how much we need God. He likened his point to the book of James, chapter 1, when James instructs that we should take Joy in our trials, because it is those things that will take us to the point in which we recognize just how much, how desperately we truly need God. It is also at that point, that we begin to understand the power of the gift that we have been given in Jesus.

One part of his illustration that was very clear and powerful is this, "If you put your identity in something that can be taken away, it will destroy you."

If you see yourself defined by anything worldly - your social status, your job, your possessions, even by your role in your family or church - all of these are things that can easily disappear without notice. When they're gone, all that you valued in yourself, all that you believed about who you are, is gone. 

Period. End of story. 

And to help drive that point home even more, there is nothing - NOTHING - that is of this world that is not temporary. Carve your name on any mountain you want, or as many as you want, and all it takes is a little earthquake to shake you up. Bury your name at the bottom of the sea, and one day when the seas boil, the only thing your identity will be is all wet. as it says in Matthew 24:35, "Heaven and Earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."

Anything you can think of in heaven or earth won't last. Every building laid low, mountains ground to dust. The world will be a level playing field, because everything that you used to build you up will be gone, nothing more than dust, and probably much less.

God, however, is the only perpetual provider that lives outside of our short-term universe and only He can be the immortal presenter of our principled presence, the keeper of our incorruptible character, and the irreversible vigilant preserver of our vindicated value.

Whatever your struggle is right now, I would make two recommendation. First - As hard as the struggle is, as big as the problem seems to be right this minute, stop. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Then, turn around and open your eyes. Tilt your head back and look up, down or to the side, any direction other than the one that points right back to the issue at hand. 

The second thing, which immediately follows the first, is to pray. Don't pray for the problem to be resolved or the issue to go away. Pray instead, either for the wisdom to use the situation for good or for help reaching your point of desperation. Either one is a much better direction than focusing solely on the problem and wishing for it to be taken away. 

We wouldn't grow if things were just taken away. Better to humble ourselves, to accept with pure joy whatever trial we are facing and give thanks to God for every moment of it, than to ask God to take away something that He is going to use to make us stronger and wiser.

Instead, turn your face into the storm and pray on. 

Pray for the end of you. 

Pray for the gift of desperation.