"Stuff"

Once upon a time there was a "retired" pastor who became a ponytailed loner who was often seen pedaling his bike around the streets of his former parish.  He picked up cardboard boxes and bags full of "stuff." 

One day, when neighbors hadn’t seen "Pastor" emerge from his home for several days, they called the police. Officers broke in, only to find a house so full of trash that the only way to get around was through an elaborate series of tunnels running through the filth. The stench was so bad that a police dive team using a breathing apparatus was called in to search for "Pastor." He was found deep inside the unholy labyrinth. Police believed Pastor's problem started when he became disoriented in a Benevolence, Finance, or Budget Church  meeting and began collecting "stuff" to help meet the overwhelming needs facing the church.  “Human Mole Nearly Dies of Thirst … Lost in his own Tunnels of Trash,” read the headline in the Local Times.

Sadly "stuff" most of us would call “junk” - old newspapers, magazines, old clothing, bags, books, mail, notes and lists, as well as other accumulated items (even garbage) was hoarded because he believed the church might somehow need those items in the future. His home became a dumping ground, where piles and piles of "stuff" choked out living space to a dangerous point.  (It didn't take long for the clutter to start spreading onto the floors, countertops, hallways, stairwells, garage and cars. Beds become so cluttered there was no room to sleep.) Chairs become so buried there was nowhere to sit. Kitchen counters become so cluttered that food couldn't  be prepared. Eventually the living space could only be accessed only by a series of narrow pathways or tunnels through the clutter. 


The therapists diagnosed Pastor with "Chronic Wealth Syndrome" - a high-end "stuff" disease symptomatic of a larger and more pervasive human disease.  He told the therapist that "he had been keeping all this 'stuff' since his youth - since his first pastorate."  He now attends therapy twice a week while living in a white padded cell with periodic visits from his family and former parishoners.  He is not living happily ever after.

NOW - the truth?  In this midst of my current move & I am fearful that I may be a hoarder.  I have always been able to get two cars in my garage.  But where in the world did all of this "stuff" come from?  It is like an endless bowl of spaghetti.  I mean -  I am putting "stuff" in boxes & have no answer as to how to label the box.  What is it?  Not sure - "stuff."  I've read that people hoard things that they don't need because they are afraid of throwing away something that they might use later.  I've heard that the difference between a collector and a hoarder is that collectors keep things because they give them pleasure, not because they are afraid to throw them away. Also, they are somewhat organized with their collectibles.  Mmm - makes me nervous. Am I a hoarder? Will they find five hundred empty mayonnaise jars in my attic when I die even though I don't like mayo?


More alarming for me?  In our Staff meeting we listened to Mark Batterson talk about "The Rich Young Ruler" (in Mark 10:22 he had "lots of stuff.") - a case study in "stuff" preventing a person from inheriting eternal life!  Whoa!  The larger question for me is "do I find my identity in "stuff?"  All be it - "ministerial stuff."   What must I do to inherit life?  Get rid of your "stuff" and follow Me.  Wow!

  
Jesus gives him a Facebook quiz on the Ten Commandments (well, at least five commandments, plus another that deals with human relationships; not the first four that deal with humans’ relationship with God), and the rich man checks all the boxes.  So far, the man is perfect. “I have kept all these since my youth,” he tells Jesus. He has managed to maintain a perfect standard, at least in his own eyes, while also managing to accumulate a good deal of "stuff." ( In Hebrew thought, prosperity was associated with God’s blessing, which was the result of faithful living.) To the casual observer, this guy had it all.

If I had everything where would I put it?  "Stuff" can become more of a life-choking burden than a blessing.  (That's why we move every so often - to get rid of some "stuff.") 


Have I become trapped in a maze of my own making?  Isn't it ironic then, that Jesus uses the illustration of a camel going through the eye of a needle to talk about how hard it is for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God? Will the "stuff" that I have accumulated create an ever-narrowing pathway until, eventually, it may be impossible to squeeze my way out? 

While compulsive hoarders need some serious psychological intervention, most people with "Chronic Wealth Syndrome" really need only one prescription. Jesus offers a therapeutic solution. He spells it out for the rich man: “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." Usually that verse elicits a couple of standard responses from my soul.  

On the one hand, I read it and say, “Well, thank goodness I’m not rich!” It must be someone else’s problem. Like the neighbors who walked past "Pastor's" home day after day, I might observe my own wealthy neighbors and think they’re the ones with a possession problem. 



The second approach has to do with the force of Jesus’ prescription. Jesus isn’t really asking me to give up everything I have - is He? ; He’s using a "hyperbolic" metaphor. All disciples of Jesus shouldn’t really get rid of everything we own, right? Surely, this man’s problem with possessions required a much more radical intervention than I need.

Well, maybe. But Jesus’ words here seem to have a more universal application. Even the disciples caught the force of it. “Look, we have left everything and followed you,” they said to Jesus. Jesus’ advice/command to the rich man wasn’t lost on only those who had indeed done exactly what Jesus was recommending. Somehow, I expect that discipleship shouldn’t cost me that much; I think I can somehow maintain my consumerist lifestyle and still call myself a follower of Jesus. As Tom Sine writes, Western Christians seem to want “the American dream with a little Jesus overlay.” 

Jesus challenges that assumption directly, and his words are convicting for me - a person who claims to be his follower. He calls me to think about how I continue to collect "stuff" and hold on to things in my own life. The question is whether I will  seek health and wholeness by learning to give up my stuff when I'm asked, or whether I'll continue to cram my house and body full of the junk that our culture says I need. Only when I'm willing to let go, to see all my stuff as belonging to God, will I begin to see the light of the kingdom break through all the clutter.

The rich man was missing those first four commandments — the ones about honoring God, about making everything in my life subject to God. When I take those commandments seriously, I begin to see that my own idea of perfection is nothing compared to God’s perfection. For God, perfection and prosperity aren’t about full houses and mountains of material goods. Rather, they’re all about emptying, about giving away, about clearing the clutter and letting go of anything and everything that keeps me from finding the door to God’s kingdom.

I don't want to die in a squalid pile of junk in an ignominious end. But die I eventually will do. The question is whether I'll be found trying desperately to hold on to stuff I can’t take with me, or whether I'll be found having given the best of myself and my material blessings to the service of God, who ultimately owns it all anyway. 

The Generation Lap

I once was a long distance runner.  Never was that good - at least at my high school.  I ran the 2 mile by default - I wasn't fast enough (in the top 3 on the team) to run the mile.  Our best miler ran a 4:11, number two ran a 4:13, and number three ran a 4:15.  My measly 4:23 did not hack it.  And in the 2 mile I was the # 3 on the food chain.  Our fastest ran a 9:25, second 9:30, and I brought up the rear with a 9:35 (my all time best).  I will never forget the day I was lapped - that day a dude ran a 9:0something and I ran a 10:0something...later I found out his 9:0something was one of his "bad days" - great - I could have been lapped twice!  I got lapped & got a standing ovation when I finished - how embarrassing- to boot - the girls National leader in the two mile ran in our heat for "some competition" and was on my heels...I have spent the last 35 years trying to convince myself that suppose the standing O was for me. 


This past week I realized I had been lapped - again.  Let's just say I'm technologically challenged. 

Vintage Coleco Mini Arcade Games Frogger & Pac-Man

The generation gap. Old news.  It means that the Builder or GI generation doesn't understand their self-absorbed Boomer children.  It means that Boomers wonder what's up with their Gen-Xer kids.  And older Gen-Xers who have children secretly worry about the Millennial Kids' fascination with   cyberspace.  Preschoolers today can wire anything, view VCR's as museum relics, but struggle to tie their shoelaces.  About the best their Gen-Xer parents, when they were their age, could do, well -- was play a mean game of Pac-Man...and Frogger!   Middle-schoolers can help their parents navigate Windows, but don't know what to do when asked to wash windows.  High-schoolers spend hours on the Internet, sending e-mail, texting, tweeting....Their online world is one where it is easier to learn how to build bombs than to build relationships.  While the hackers of our country are peeking into the Norad, the army, or the FBI, their Boomer or X'er parents are often trying to hack into their own computer.

It's more than a gap -- it's a lap. A Generation Lap.  Like I said - I have been lapped - again!  While I was sitting at the computer, slowly punching in passwords, trying to go online and check my e-mail, my Millennial Munchkins were racing around the cyber-track -- chatting with friends, researching a school paper, and downloading songs -- all at the same time!  As my daughters grew through this phase I - often - noticed them "downloading" during a church prayer.  Now Dad - "we are made in God's image & if He can multi-task so can we."

I've been lapped.

Here's what's happened:  A Generation Lap occurred when I was overtaken by my more technologically savvy offspring.  I sometimes believe my "Net generation" kids have an innate, magical relationship with information technologies, one that is completely alien to all who have come before them.   I did not grow up with computers in the classroom and will never catch up with those who did.  

Old School Computer Lab

My freshman year in college I dropped a stack of COBOL cards in the Old School computer lab right before the card feeder - some of you know what I am saying here.

As a parent of "Millennials" I got depressed until I considered this:  Getting lapped could be good.  I am not too physically fit these days - could use some work in that area.  The Bible calls for me to be spiritually savvy, and to maintain a fitness for faith (remember 1 Timothy 4:8?  - bodily exercise profits little but spiritual exercise lots) - not only for me, but future generations.   I think it should be the goal of every generation to see its children sprint to new levels of health, happiness, wisdom, and spirituality.  But lapping is never a sure thing.   


I think that is why the Apostle Paul devotes so much time in his letters to spiritual growth, often invoking a racing metaphor.   Some would argue that Baby Boomers (that's me) not only failed to lap their parents in terms of spiritual faith and maturity, but actually fell far behind. Instead of racing ahead to new positions of faithful service, they stumbled and fell in a false start of "me-centered" spirituality.  But with each new generation there is hope - my hope and prayer is that the younger folks will return to God - some are already out front of their Boomer & X'er parents.   I know mine lapped me a long time ago - and that makes me feel good.   FYI - they get their spiritual fitness & ability to multi-task (even in church) from their Mom.   As for me - well.... I gave up pursuing the spiritually contemplative lifestyle a few years ago.

Family Holiday Gatherings

This past week we had a "Holiday Family Gathering." My own family's hypocrisy helped me understand what I read in Twain's Huckleberry Finn.  Dysfunctional family life has been around long before pop psychology defined it for me.  Now - I really do "enjoy" to (occasionally) get together with our end of the gene pool. These can be dangerous gatherings for me. (Growing up I was taught that - "If you are smart, once you've  grown up and escaped, you would be wise to never go near "these people" again- our family & logic is akin to Ma & Pa Kettle.)

"The Speech"

But many of us are drawn to cousinly confabs like moths to dysfunctional family flames.  I have attempted half-hearted excuses to get out of these gatherings - but I am convinced that my own death would not be enough for me to escape - it would be just another reason for folks to gather.  When our kids were younger I would give them "the speech" before we went - well, several times on the way to "the holiday gathering." It was a drive of anticipation to a destination where people probably shared my same feelings and blood.  


Aunt Muggie, Uncle Fuzz, and Aunt Pete were ALWAYS there.  You know - cheek pinching, warnings on the dangers of drugs and alcohol.  If I remember correctly, some of our meetings were actually held in the AA building - I suppose, for a reason. Then there was what my girls call "the old people food" - yep - casseroles and "jello-type-whipped cream - salads...of all kinds (and colors).  Again - according to my girls this was food from "questionable origin" that someone had tossed together from a home-cooking experiment gone terribly wrong.  THEN there was the poor dog or cat who just happens to inhabit the area getting poked, prodded, and otherwise tortured by the "children of the corn."

These days my girls (and my wife) have to give ME "the speech." - When I show up the conversation always seems to polarize to church-state squabbling. True to form, the family begins discussing religion and politics.  Presidential candidates are hurled around as weapons -- and then someone always brings the "Good Lord" into it and I'm supposed to know the election mindedness of God.... “I’ll pray for you,” mutters Aunt muggy (on the right side of the political spectrum) to Aunt Pete  - the one on the left. “You need all the help you can get.”  Thermometers rising... on to something more important - like sports or dissecting the failings of the opposite sex.  Looking for me? - I'm sitting with a glazed expression for the rest of the gathering... next to the sleeping old man, attempting to get my phone to work - no service - my only entertainment is watching the slow progress of drool sliding slowly down this distant relative's  face while he snores with whistles and snorts "three stooges style."

I suppose that is why I "got it" when Mrs. Huckabee gave us a "pop quiz" theme on the feuding family of Shepherdson (& the Grangerfords) - a murdering family who stop from feuding and attend church on Sunday, but still carry their guns.  My take as a High School Freshman was that Twain lampoons the foolishness of so-called educated people.   Families destroying themselves because of foolish pride and absolutely ridiculous behavior since no one in the Shepherdsons "can recall why the family is at war."

This brings me to the shocking command that God gives to Abram is to leave his family behind. It is similar to one of the "hard sayings" of Jesus (Luke 14:26) - one that we like either to ignore or to soften to a more palatable texture. But the command is unambiguous. In Abram's case, leaving the family meant leaving behind all the structures that organized clan life: a known code of legal and moral behavior, an established place in the hierarchical pecking order and the personal cults, gods and idols that were worshiped by the family. But what is interesting is that he never can seem to really get far enough away from them and their influence. What  I am attempting to say is that Abram's family had an "Aunt Pete, Uncle Fuzz, and Aunt Muggie" - just read Genesis  sometime - the dysfunctionality will either alarm or encourage you that you are not alone.  Funny how things haven't changed much in the last 4000 years.

 "Family" is now such a buzzword that in the name of "the family" we will do almost anything. For the sake of "the family," we claw our way up - working longer hours, seeking more pay, taking on huge mortgages for better homes in better neighborhoods with better schools. We may be too exhausted or stressed out to enjoy the big "family vacation," but it is more important and more expensive than ever. The tourism industry knows that the surest way to attract more people is to offer special rates, programs and services for "families." Even Las Vegas casinos are styling themselves as "family casinos" and "family vacation" centers.  Heaven forbid that Muggie, Pete, and Fuzz find that out before Memorial Day weekend.  

Watch Out Las Vegas! Aunt Pete is headed that way!

Speedy Checkout

I was standing in a seemingly endless "Speedy Checkout" line.  Looking around - the majority of cash registers are not open.  This situation screams, "We want your money, but we don't care about your time."  Experiences like this frustrate me, but, as a minister, cause me to ponder.

If a day is as 1000 years to God (e.g. Psalms 90:4 & 2 Peter 3:8)...then how long in "God-years" have I been standing in this "speedy" line?  Simple proportion (I think - although I can no longer do this math in my head - so I used my calculator app.) - let's see...for every hour that passes by in Heaven...let a=24 hrs & b=1000 yrs.   b/a = 41.66 yrs. (41 years, 7 months, 27 days, 14 hours, 24 minutes...that's it  - I'm done...this could confuse God.  My wife is better at math I'll ask her.

I often hear that "the world is going to hell in a hand basket."  It's closer to the truth to say that "the world is going to hell in a shopping cart." Your soul -- not to mention your budget -- is in mortal danger as you approach the grocery store checkout lane. 

You say, "How?" I have carefully filled my cart with the needed items outlined on my list. I patiently wait in line, always seeming to pick the one that's slowest - you guessed it the "Speedy Checkout"(10 items or less). Yet somehow, by the time the checker begins tallying up the items in my cart, it has suddenly filled up with a pack of gum, a box of Tic-Tacs, a four-pack of AA batteries, three candy bars and a magazine for enquiring minds. (In reality - I ran into the store this week to pick up a few items - less than 10.  I am standing in line with windshield wiper blades, grape juice, paper towels, and a bag of M&M's -Easter Bunny Mix. Although I did not really purchase the magazine for inquiring minds I did look at it and discovered that "Hitler, JFK, John Lennon, & Elvis" were ruling the world from Argentina- go figure!)  Bet you've never purchased that combination of products in one shopping trip). 

The couple standing in the line next to me had their 5-year-old along, they had accumulated a new Pez dispenser, a mylar (you know? One of those foil ones that looks like tin that is really a polyester film?) balloon with Mini-Mouse & Happy Birthday in Spanish on it - and a plastic "cellular" telephone filled with tiny bubble-gum pieces. (Stores purposefully pack this kind of junky, funky, consumer gunk into the narrow gauntlet we must run to get to the checkout counter.) Things we would never intentionally have gone in search of are now languish under our fingertips -- inviting, no insisting, that we (or our teenager, grandchild or spouse) grab them.


Although impulsively buying a pack of gum or a candy bar hardly seems earth-shattering or soul-threatening, the truth is that the increasingly voracious appetites of this consumer culture are being methodically nurtured and stimulated by a crass and crushing consumerism. The ramifications of such little things as a checkout gauntlet are ominous. (Especially the "Speedy" kind.)

For an increasing number of people, self-identity and life-purpose are summed up by the mantra "I shop, therefore I am." Raging consumerism has left Descartes' "I think, therefore I am" far behind. Consumer culture has never even heard of, much less considered, God's revelation to Moses, "I am who I am; therefore, you are."

There are many problems facing our world today: poverty, pollution, famines, plagues, terrorism, economic crashes, energy shortages- not to mention as I am often reminded by the media of simultaneous global cooling and warming (how does that work?) But the most vicious and voracious of all these problems is overconsumption.  Of whom I am, as the Apostle Paul would say, "The Chief of Sinners."


Isn't it amazing how much time I had to think while standing in the "Speedy" Checkout aisle?  If you think that is amazing,then you may want to know what goes through the minds of the people who are listening to my sermon.  Not sure I like the idea of a 'speedy' church checkout.... but then no short winded preacher has ever been fired that I know of.... I wonder how many years I preach on "God-time?"   Not sure I want to ask. 

Talk Like a Pirate?

Ahoy, Avast, Aye, Arrr...

So - I have been praying, reading the Bible, and reflecting on the calendar of special events and holidays left in 2012 - sermon planning. 


International Talk Like a Pirate Day is on Wednesday, September 19, 2012.  Ahoy, avast, aye and arrr — Shiver me timbers! (Now won't this make an interesting prayer meeting?) Did not find this holiday on the religious calendar - go figure.

If you’re not familiar with this international holiday, you’ve obviously been spending too much time doing good and important things. But if you are in the habit of wasting time surfing the Internet, looking for odd and amusing items, then maybe you have stumbled across this silly excuse for a holiday. It’s a day devoted to talking like a pirate. Why?  I suppose...because it’s funny?  Because you can. Just be careful not to go too far and call a close friend a “scurvy bilge rat.”  Might not be amused.

Talk Like a Pirate Day was invented by a couple of guys — no surprise there. They picked September 19 because it was not cluttered up with Christmas or the Super Bowl or any other important event. For years, the two of them celebrated the day in private, just talking like pirates to each other, but then humorist Dave Barry caught word of the holiday and wrote a column about it.  Dave Barry ended up inviting all of his readers to join the movement and celebrate the holiday. 

What do you think? On September 19, we'll not answer the church phone with “Hello." Instead, “Ahoy, me hearty!”  If the congregant protests, we will reply that they are not  "hearty," and  call them a scurvy dog who will soon be walking the plank and ending up in Davy Jones’ locker. (That's pirate talk for the 'bad place' - He_ _ - well, you know.)  See what fun you can have?

Talk Like a Pirate Day has now moved around the world, being picked up by radio stations from Cleveland, Ohio, to Sydney, Australia. According to the official Web site (www.talklikeapirate.com), it has become popular on college campuses, and a set of guidelines has been created for celebrating the day in the workplace. (Nice!)  For instance, when you dress for the office, pick outfits with a lot of red and black, and don’t be afraid to accessorize with shiny metallic accents — maybe even a good skull and crossbones. (This could be risky for me - really - of course I would probably go as a Christian Pirate and leave off the skull and bones but leave the cross.)

If you are tired of your boring first name, put an adjective or descriptive phrase in front of it. If you have always been say "B" or "M", for example, on September 19 you can be Bloody Red "B" or Mad Dog "M." Try this at job interviews. You’ll get results!

Given that Talk Like a Pirate Day is just a few months away and the Bible book of  James talks about taming the tongue.  I am leaning toward a sermon on that - maybe even a whole series.  

 “Look at ships,” says James, sounding like a salty sea dog; “though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits” (James 3:4-5). Makes me want to say “Aye!”

The tongue is a small but powerful instrument, able to have an effect that is every bit as influential as the rudder on a pirate ship. Think of the power of words you have heard, or that you have spoken, over the course of your life.

Example of a 'Bilge Rat"

James knows the devastating power of words, which is why he says, “How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire” (3:5-6). He knows that the tongue can be used to discourage, derail, dismay, deceive and destroy the precious children of God, and he describes it as “a restless evil, full of deadly poison” (3:8).

The challenge for me is to "Talk Like a Christian", not "Talk Like a Pirate." This means that I do not use my big mouth  to “bless the Lord and Father” one minute, and then “curse those who are made in the likeness of God” the next (3:9).  It is not appropriate to offer up enthusiastic praise to God on Sunday, and then call my neighbor a stinking bilge rat on Monday.

So what does it mean for us to Talk Like a Christian — not just on one day in September, but throughout the year? It’s really very easy to talk like a pirate, since all you need to do is pepper your speech with “Ahoy!” “Avast!” “Aye!” and “Arrr!” But faithful Christian speech requires more than the proper vocabulary, more than a specialized knowledge of grog, hornpipes, timbers and yardarms.

To talk like a Christian, we need to speak to other people with a full awareness that they are created in God’s image. This means that we see them not as scurvy bilge rats, but as men and women who are created in the image and likeness of God, breathed into being with the very breath of God himself (Genesis 1:26; 2:7). There is a holiness built into each human being, a sacredness that comes straight from their Creator, and we miss an important aspect of their existence when we overlook this quality.

“From the same mouth come blessing and cursing,” he says, with deep regret. “My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so” (3:10). Better for us to keep our mouths shut than to pollute the creative word of God with a destructive word of gossip or unfair criticism. (Just went from blogger to preacher.)

When we talk like a Christian, we speak in a way that is in line with the teachings of Jesus, the One who is the Word of God in human form. This is an enormous challenge for us, because Jesus takes speech seriously, and he issues numerous warnings about the consequences of our language. For Jesus, words are never cheap — and they always pack a punch.

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder.’” No surprise there. But then Jesus says, “But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment … and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire” (Matthew 5:21-22). (OUCH!) 

He warns us against using empty phrases in our prayers (6:7), tells us not to judge others (7:1), and wraps everything up in the command to “do to others as you would have them do to you” (7:12). For Jesus, words are every bit as important as actions, because he knows that they have the power to build up or break down.

Talking is more than chit-chat, according to Jesus. It’s a matter of life and death, with words of love and forgiveness having a radically different impact than words of hate and condemnation. 

We have a few months to decide if  we are going to celebrate Talk Like A Pirate Day.  You can make your own decision about whether to Talk Like a Pirate.  Maybe I'll preach like a pirate.  Now there's a plan.  It’s all in good fun, it’s a way to feel bold and daring, and it really won’t affect you — unless you slip up and call your wife or deacon chair a scalawag.

But if you Talk Like a Christian, you’ll be setting sail with Jesus on a most amazing adventure.  And - be pretty salty - that's another blog for another week. Will you join me?  

Hornswaggle, Belay, Parley, Shiver me timbers! I can't wait!

Tide, Tidilick, and Tundra

Would you drive through this?  By faith I mean.

"Stupid is as stupid does" - wisdom from Forest Gump's mom.  Stupidity is demonstrated by our actions.  This past week I used all of my advanced education and decided to make the plunge.  Yep - taking Molly's Tundra for a swim.  The water looked shallow enough.  Besides, it was a Tundra - a big truck - all of the other vehicles turning around to find another way were sissies.  No faith.  When the tide from the swollen creek engulfed the Tundra and began sweeping me into the trees I had a weird flashback. (My mind often does this - so don't worry too much or maybe you should.)

Noah you know but Tidilick the Giant Frog? Both got wet, according to ancient stories of cataclysmic floods.  A few years ago I had the opportunity to be "on mission" in Australia. In aboriginal mythology, Tidilick the Giant Frog is said to have drained every drop of water in the Outback. His friends, the kangaroos, grew thirsty, as you might expect they would, but they didn't know what to do.  Finally, one smart kangaroo thought to tickle Tidilick. When the frog laughed, his water broke, as it were, creating an enormous flood that washed everyone out of their homes. It was a wet, wild day.  It's just a story. It never really happened. A giant frog? Naah. But a giant flood? Absolutely.


They are people whose minds are as large as the floods they seek to understand. They are the ones who see what others don't see. They look where others don't look. They think thoughts others don't dare to ponder. They are people who take risks, who think, and plan, then act. They are persistent, counterintuitive, revolutionary people. Their successful work speaks for itself.  (Risk Takers! I am reaching here - attempting to justify and rationalize my stupidity - grant me grace.)  So what sort of ancient man builds a boat at the command of a God he cannot see? And what sort of God asks him to do it? The words "eccentric" and "patient" come to mind. The man's building a boat, the first of its kind, on dry land, in anticipation of a natural phenomenon that had never occurred before; moreover, he's cooped up in cramped quarters with his wife and family, not to speak of a boat load of animals, for 40 days and 40 nights.

That aside, the Scripture records that he was a faithful man, so much so that he's listed in the Bible's Who's Who of Faith Heroes in Hebrews 11, because he trusted God, pouring his time, efforts and resources into a project that even to Bob Vila would've looked crazy and stupid. Did Noah have doubts? Probably. Did he sometimes question himself? Likely. Wouldn't you? But faith, a lamp in the darkness of unbelief, gave him enough light to carry on.

Noah was a risk-taker, a man who wagered his reputation, his wealth and all that he had on an idea - the idea that it is healthier to listen to what God says, than not to listen. Noah's character was strong enough to endure ridicule, tongue-clucking, name-calling and derision. He must have had high tolerance for public embarrassment. (I can relate - can you? If you are a married man you can.)

Noah was a righteous man, living in an unrighteous time, yet he was able to make good choices, instead of succumbing to the wicked ideas of his day. It is always hard to be righteous and countercultural. It is as difficult now as it was then to choose God, and to stick with God, no matter what.

Noah was a persistent man. Mrs. Noah might have called him stubborn. How much work does it take to build a huge ark without power tools or a lumber mill when you are 600 years young? How many years, how much effort, how much wealth, did it take to build that thing in his back yard? It is obvious Noah was persistent. He didn't give up. He stuck to it. He never quit. Finally, he was a man who "walked with God," 6:9. He knew the companionship and fellowship of God, and when you have that in your life, you can put up with just about anything else.

When it was all over and when the sky had cleared, and the seas calmed, then came God's promise to us - that there'll be no Tidilick regurgitating flood waters to drown the earth ever again.  Instead, God put his promise in the sky for all to see, for all to remember that promise, and to remember Noah and what character traits it takes to be a woman or man of faith.  

Tundra survives the tide in spite of my stupidity
and - so did I

When my life flashed before my eyes in last week's deluge - God gave me a "rainbow" and I hit land before I hit the tree line near the creek.  Giant faith?  Probably not.  Grace?  Mercy?  Luck?  Maybe.  But this I do know - never again will I risk being one that would need rescue by helicopter, grappling hook (or body bag). When all was said and done I reaffirmed: Giant Faith matters.  Not Giant Frogs.  And that I need to love God with all my MIND and beware of the tide.  And, yes, I am still married. :)

"Christy"

Today I will have the honor of speaking to a group of people I sense are hungry for a word from God.  I will stand before them in the words of Fred Craddock "as one without much authority."  A "mantra" of mine is that I always attempt to allow the scripture to interpret me more than I interpret it.  My subject?  Nothing other than a donkey.

The animal in the passion story can teach us a lot, because she is the creature who carries Christ.  And that's what it's all about.  Carrying Christ into the world.  The donkey was a "Christ-bearer," or a Christopher (derived from the Greek Christos combined with pherein "to bear or carry").  Everyday is an opportunity to take the name Christopher (Christophera, feminine - as the Bible calls "her a 'her'") as our own.  Or "Christy" as I call her.  By doing so, we commit to bearing Christ to the world.

What does that mean to me?  Being "Christy" means: being a servant, carrying a burden, humbly serving without caring who gets the glory, following Christ's direction; being willing to go where He wants to go, not where I want to go; not getting spooked by crowds, the noise, the attention.  It means taking Christ into enemy territory, never asking Christ to "get off my back," being willing to shed the "hero" image people wanted to pin to Jesus.  It means being obedient to the will of the One who holds the reins.  As I carry Christ into the world, I am challenged to do a particular kind of work and show a distinctively Christian lifestyle.  This means letting love be genuine and holding fast to what is good.  It involves rejoicing in hope, being patient in suffering, and persevering in prayer.  To live this way means I am going to contribute to the needs of God's people, extend hospitality to strangers, and even bless those who persecute me.

I am not sure I can pull this off.  But if I can -  I have a hunch that I will discover the joy that comes from carrying Christ.  I will know the glory of hearing hosannas, the thrill of close contact with Jesus, the excitement of accepting a challenge and deep satisfaction of knowing that I am walking in the way of God.  There is no better role I could be asked to perform.

Please note that this role and journey is against the flow of the world.  Little girls don't dream of riding across summer fields on a donkey.  The Kentucky Derby doesn't blow the herald horn for a herd of dinky donkeys to race around a track.  And everyone from Shakespeare to Pinocchio knows that fools and dolts are depicted as donkeys.  Of course the donkey's other common name says it all: the donkey is just an....well, you know what that word is.  And remember - donkey's feel safest and most secure when they can clearly see where the edge is, where the danger lies.  What unnerves this donkey is knowing an edge is near, but not being able to see it and so gauge the best path to take.  This as I nimbly traipse down the canyon along the very edge of the precipice...knowing my Passenger holds the reigns.