Monday Morning Music Ministry

4-15-13

One of the very tantalizing aspects of Bible scholarship is when you come upon different versions of the same events. Professional skeptics pounce upon “different facts,” ready to assert that Scripture contradicts itself, and therefore cannot be true. But I said “different versions,” not “different facts.” In fact it is more than tantalizing to see how the Bible is full of nuance and shades of meaning and diverse descriptions – all bringing a richness to believers in its message.

Similarities in God’s word, His message, are pathways leading to the same goal. Besides, any seeming contradictions are not really anomalies at all, and never involve important points of doctrine. Skeptics huff and puff about unimportant matters.

Sometimes Christians do, too.

There are reasons for the existence of hundreds of denominations, sometimes very good reasons. From the days of the Apostles, heresies and false doctrines emerged. It would be a logical goal of Satan to destroy the Church. But there are bad reasons for the existence of hundreds of denominations, also; sometimes very bad reasons. Corruption, pride, jealousy, ignorance, flawed traditions, all are elements of false doctrines and tragic schisms.

Religionists can be obsessed with How many angels can dance on the head of a pin… and skeptics crowd at their elbows, debating loudly why angels cannot dance on the heads of no stinkin’ pins. Accusers and apologists, renegades and religionists, can drown out everything, and every one, around them, sometimes.

Meanwhile, humble and quiet, is the Truth of God. It really needs no army to enforce its views. And it is impervious to the attacks of those who hate it. It was bequeathed modestly, offered to God’s children for their instruction, and, along the way, their unspeakable joy and eternal security. On the other side, it savagely has been attacked by brutal governments, fanatical leaders, seductive intellectuals, and physical persecution during every moment of humankind’s existence… and it stands, pure and strong and unassailable as ever.

Some of the last words Jesus spoke to His disciples, after Resurrection, are recorded with slight nuances by the gospel writers. Again, whether we take away Jesus referring to Jews and gentiles, or Jews THEN gentiles; or “authority to teach” or “authority including healing”… are perhaps deliberately open to phantasms of opportunity. To those who seek the full import, and not those who love disputes. Listen to what has come to be known as the Great Commission:

“The… disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:16-20)

I am going to suggest that even the broader points, not just the nuances, of the Great Commission, are sometimes lost on Christians. This was the Great Commission, not the Great Suggestion; so, we can agree on its importance. The to-do list, such as it was, is little more than 1) going; 2) making disciples; 3) baptizing people; and 4) teaching them to obey.

The story of the church for two millennia has played out through point Number 2. Religion has been at its most innovative, and least consistent. It has produced its softest individuals (saintly missionaries) and harshest hordes (Crusaders and Inquisitors), all in the name of “making disciples.”

Discipling means “coming alongside,” or inviting people to come alongside you. Then, in this broad swath of establishing emotional connections, we can imitate the Christ. Therein lies the way to make disciples.

We can be so serene that troubled souls desire “what we have.” We can know the Commands of God and the Words of Christ so that people want to learn what is hidden in our hearts. We can live changed lives so that folks who are hurting want to walk our new walk. Discipleship probably is evanescent unless we exhibit these types of “witness,” as Jesus did – quiet, modest, truthful, secure.

Modern pastors bleat about the “power of story” in their preaching (forgetting that Jesus relied on parables… but let them have their fun) – and often wind up telling stories about themselves, not the Savior. Postmodern theologians prattle about meta-narratives and relational truth, hopefully impressing people with words, words, words, to quote Hamlet.

But there is wisdom for the humblest friend of a troubled friend, or the most prominent evangelist: Tell them the story of Jesus. Nothing more. And nothing less. And all things will be added to it. It has all the elements that will draw people to Him.

Tell them the story of Jesus, Write on their hearts every word;
Tell them the story most precious, Sweetest that ever was heard.
Tell how the angels in chorus, Sang as they welcomed His birth,
“Glory to God in the highest! Peace and good tidings to earth.”

Tell of the years of His labor, Tell of the sorrow He bore;
He was despised and afflicted, Homeless, rejected and poor.
Tell of the cross where they nailed Him, Writhing in anguish and pain;
Tell of the grave where they laid Him, Tell how He liveth again.

Love in that story so tender, Clearer than ever I see;
Stay, let me weep while you whisper, “Love paid the ransom for me.”
Tell them the story of Jesus, Write on their hearts every word;
Tell them the story most precious, Sweetest that ever was heard.

Your assignment for the Great, Great, Great Commission? Tell them the story of Jesus.

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That poem is by Fanny Crosby, the blind poet who started writing hymns and lyrics in her forties, and wrote more than 8000 creations like this before she died fifty years later. Another beautiful and powerful song on the same theme is one that we all should want to sing, “I Love to Tell the Story”! Two such people, in this video, are Emmylou Harris and the actor Robert Duvall. It was written by Katherine Hankey, a pioneer of sorts – a young girl of the late 1800s who evangelized on London street corners and factories. She became fatally sick and confined to bed, and voiced her biggest regret: that she could not go out in the world and “tell the story.” But she did… through this classic hymn.

Click: I Love To Tell the Story

4-8-13

One of the most significant periods of the church calendar, and least celebrated or noted, is the 40 days after Jesus rose from the dead. He walked and talked in places where His ministry had been; He was seen in His restored body by thousands; He healed many; He continued to preach, He continued to love. And then He ascended to Heaven, taken up in the sky, which also was witnessed by others.

We really should think more about these 40 days, and the significance of the Ascension. Jesus’ birth had been according to Scripture. His miracles had shown His power. His preaching had taught the world wisdom. His persecution and death had fulfilled prophecies. That He conquered death was an astonishing miracle. But His ascension to Heaven – His bodily rise to be with the Father at the Throne, the mystery of rejoining the Godhead – more than any detail of these other manifestations, confirms the Divinity of Jesus Christ.

Forty days Jesus showed the world that He lived again. The Sanhedrin had called Jesus a blasphemer, and others claimed His miracles were of the devil… but His 40 days in Jerusalem and surrounding areas, being seen by multitudes, was scarcely disputed. The contemporary Jewish historian Josephus referred to it, as did other writers. Two generations later, the writer Eusebius interviewed many people who had known people who saw Jesus during these days, told of miracles, even cited sermons and letters of the risen Jesus.

In other words, some people might not have joined the Christ-followers – although believers multiplied rapidly, even in the face of persecution soon thereafter – but very few people disputed that He rose from the dead. The number 40 appears 146 times in the Bible, a number of God’s significance. We think of Noah, of the years in the wilderness, of the days Moses was on the Mount, of Jonah and Nineveh, and, in Jesus’ case, the number of days He was tempted of the devil… and the number of days between the Resurrection and the Ascension.

Usually this number signifies testing, trials, probation, or a provision of prosperity. We must believe the last comes closest to the risen Lord’s season before He ascended. They certainly were active days. The last verse of the last gospel’s last book (John 21:25) tells us, “Jesus also did many other things. If they were all written down, I suppose the whole world could not contain the books that would be written.”

Yet as busy as He must have been, I have a picture in my mind of Jesus alone, also, maybe when darkness fell, down lonely paths, maybe through storms and cold silences, walking the dark hills, not responding to the curious crowds, but seeking out the troubled and the hurting individuals.

This is a plausible picture, because Jesus still does this today.

It was in His nature: Remember the “ninety and nine,” and the one lost sheep the shepherd sought; remember His words, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock”; remember His story of the father rejoicing over the prodigal son who repents and returns and is restored; remember His admonition to be “fishers of men”; remember Him weeping over Jerusalem; remember the promise that “Whosoever” believes should not perish but have eternal life. He walks the dark hills, looking for us – piercing the gloom with a joyful hope that may be ours.

And, continuing to reconstruct an image of what Jerusalem must have been like those 40 days, abuzz with talk of the Miracle Man, let us also remember that we don’t have to respond to a knock on the door – “Come! They say that Jesus is down by the river! Let’s see Him!” No… He will come to us. And it is especially the case, I believe, if you are one of those people who is skeptical, or has “heard enough,” or cannot crack the shell of hurt or pain or resentment or rebellion or fear, or all the other hindrances that prevent us from experiencing the love of Christ.

He is closer than a shadow, no matter what you think, or what you might prefer to believe. You might have experienced, say, the nightmare of something like a crib death; remember that Jesus offers peace that passes understanding. You might have health scares, insecure about your very life and what your place on earth is; remember that Jesus walks the dark hills to guide you and me. You might have had problems with drugs, and the law, and custody, maybe losing your home, with nowhere to turn; remember that Jesus offers you refuge. You might be a girl who has tried to shake addictions time after time after time; remember that the feeling around your shoulders is Jesus hugging you tightly. You might have lost a preemie, having prayed, believing, for a healthy child; remember that, through it all, trust is more important than understanding.

“God walks the dark hills, To guide our footsteps. He walks everywhere, By night and by day. He walks in the silence, On down the highway; God walks the dark hills, To show us the way.”

The risen Savior, Lord of Creation, walks the dark hills, to seek out… me? and you? where we are? in our hurts, in our messes? That’s the miracle of the Miracle Man, to me, still – that He loves you and me.

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Click: God Walks the Dark Hills

3-31-13

Many of the new games that absorb young people worldwide – virtually obsessing them – are role-playing games. Video games, “gaming,” computer games, hand-held games, are largely dependent upon tech innovations and New Media. (That’s me, back there, in the dust.) The designs enable players to choose identities and play roles, and engage in “what if” scenarios.

When I worked for Marvel and for Disney, and otherwise wrote fiction, the goal generally was to focus on one character, develop a personality for him/her, and define a clear narrative path, with beginning, middle, and end. Today the computer gamers deal in bifurcation of heroes’ personalities and narrative options (or quadfurcation – yes, that’s a word – or further dispersal of story elements… what if’s… alternate realities).

My son-in-law is a computer-game programmer. As I said, part of my background is in comics and superheroes. When we get together, we usually talk about… the grandkids and the weather. Ha! Superficially similar, the new, popular adventure media are worlds apart from the… “old.”

However, I got to thinking recently about the Easter story in a new way. Through the prism of “role-playing.” Can we imagine ourselves as some of the principal players? What we would have done? How we would have reacted?

For instance: Judas and Peter. Two Disciples. Close friends for more than three years, the glue of their association was the mysterious and wondrous person named Jesus. They both gave up everything to follow Him. They listened to His wisdom, even when they did not always fully comprehend. They saw incredible acts of kindness, and devotion. They witnessed astonishing miracles.

When crunch time came, however, they were traitors. All the Disciples scattered like autumn leaves on a windy street when persecution began, but Judas and Peter were different. Judas betrayed Jesus to the Sanhedrin, the sure first-step to arrest by the Romans. He did it for money, like spies who betray their country. Peter betrayed Jesus by denying he even knew him – three times, not once.

Let’s role-play. Would you have done the same things? We can say “no” quickly… but remember, even Peter said he could never do such a thing when Jesus predicted it only hours previous! Which is worse in this exercise – “fingering” Jesus, or claiming to have nothing to do with Him? Remember also that Jesus, knowing all, told Judas to go and do his dirty work, in effect. Jesus knew everybody’s roles in advance, even if they did not.

The real role-playing challenge – and the lesson that waits for us – is the next level of their games. Both men were mortified, overwhelmed with guilt. Judas threw away his bribe money, and hanged himself. Peter cried for forgiveness, and soon renewed his devotion to the Messiah. In fact, I identify with the “early” Peter because he was always the impulsive and sometimes reckless Disciple, even to the Upper Room, after Resurrection and Ascension, till the Day of Pentecost. But when he waited upon the Holy Spirit, wisdom came upon him, and Peter became one of the great and effective Apostles.

We sin every day; that is, the rules of the game don’t vary: we all fall short of the glory of God. But the next level is amazing – we can choose incredibly different paths. We can remain in sin, or be so remorseful that we cripple ourselves. And, frankly, disappoint God all over again. A constantly repeating game, unhappy ending. OR we can confess our sins, ask forgiveness, proclaim devotion to the Savior, and dedicate ourselves to Him. Not just needing, but wanting, to serve others in His name.

Judas or Peter? Whose game will you play?

And let us not forget the “2.0” version of this game – which, of course, is not a game, in that our response must be deadly earnest and has tremendous consequences.

But Jesus played a role, too. He fulfilled all the elements of myriad prophecies – chapter 53 of Isaiah, alone, reads like a news account of the crucifixion in every detail… except it was written 600 years before the events! – and played them perfectly.

He role-played on the cross, too. He took the role of you. And me. We chose separation from God by our transgressions. We deserve punishments for our sins. We do not deserve to live with God in Glory; we fall short. But Jesus played a Holy game. He said to the Father, “In this story of eternal justice, I will play the role of…” and insert your name. Or my name, or anyone you can imagine. In fact, you can name people of His day, of our day, of people yet unborn; people who are sinners, even people who despise the name of Jesus.

He came to take your place in that great game of life. When He died, the rules were adjusted. When we accept Jesus as God’s own, and that His sacrifice, the shed blood, served just the purpose He stated, God no longer sees us – that is, our imperfect hearts – when He looks at us. He sees Jesus.

Rate that Holy Game “E” for Everyone.

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Click: He’s Alive!

3-29-13

We listen to Handel’s oratorio “Messiah” at Christmastime (even though the piece is about Christ from ancient prophecy through His Passion and Ascension to Heaven, and therefore is appropriate at any time of year). Less often do we listen to Bach’s “Christmas Oratorio’; a shame, because it is stunningly grand and inspiring.

Perhaps the facility of arranging background music when the Yule Log burns, or when trees are decorated, assists the popularity of “Messiah.” I suggest that ANY excuse is appropriate to listen to the two Passions of Johann Sebastian Bach – the St Matthew and the St John.

I will suggest, and provide a link here, to the more modest (shorter) and unjustly obscure “Easter Oratorio” of Bach. But it is beautiful, moving, and masterful in its presentation of music, harmony, lush instrumentation, choral and solo movements. This version features original instruments, sometimes unfamiliar but fascinating to our ears, in the setting of a Baroque-period church.

Originally written by Bach as a cantata for Easter Sunday, it is appropriately festive, because it begins with the empty tomb – its first title was “Come, Hasten, and Run!” In other words, share the news that Christ has risen! Mary, after all, was the first evangelist of them all, spreading the good news.

He is risen! He is risen indeed!

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Click: Bach’s Easter Oratorio

3-25-13

“Life is cheap” is a saying that gets bandied about, usually referring to the horrors of war or the cruelties of peace; that is, social injustice. The term has increasing, not diminishing, application – widespread abortion; the terrible euphemism of “mercy killings” of the elderly; child and spousal abuse; human trafficking. “Life is cheaper” should be the slogan of our time.

My wife, in her last months, saw the early effects of the Affordable Care Act, and concluded that the new law, in its name, manifested neither. Already, the government is mandating that fewer conditions be addressed with less frequency, and at lower rates of compensation. “There won’t be ‘Death Panels,’” she would say, “at least they won’t call them that.” Life is cheaper and cheaper.

Perhaps in a culture that increasingly is “throw-away” it is harder to appreciate the sacrifice that believers commemorate this week. I wonder how many non-believers – even in the midst of a nominally Christian society – ask, “Jesus died. But we all have to die.” Or, “Tortured and crucified. But so were other people, criminals on each side of Him, and multiple thousands through the Roman empire.” Big deal? Life is cheap, right?

If you ever are tempted to think these things, you simply must remember the facts.

Jesus was perfect, sinless, did not deserve His earthly fate. Surely one’s sense of justice must rebel.

Jesus’ suffering and death had been foretold by many prophets, centuries previous, down to the most minute details. This was more than “a” death.

God Himself foretold the efficacy of Jesus’ sacrificial death by first establishing a plan of blood sacrifices, vows of repentance, and atonements for the sins we inevitably commit.

When humankind could be convinced that it was unable to approach God because our natures are inadequate to obey commandments and fulfill such cleansing rituals, the Father fully instituted the plan that had been prophesied.

“Life is cheap”? God did not think so; He does not think so. He could have exploded galaxies to show His power. He could have sacrificed, say, all the sheep on the planet in one moment, to take the ritual the Nth degree. Or any spectacular, supernatural display. And show His children the fully realized plan of salvation. But it was time for the Plan, and there was, or is, no Plan B. Even while we were yet sinners, He took the form of a human being. That aspect of His Being would become obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.

Life is cheap? No, life is precious.

Two thousand years later, there still is no Plan B. No other sacrifice, not our own works, no other savior. No more merciful plan… for us. God is Holy, and we cannot, in justice, approach Him. However, by just believing that Jesus is the Son of God, and confessing it, we in effect accept the blood shed on the cross’s altar. As with the sacrificial lambs of earlier times, His blood cleanses us – NOW we understand it all! As the blood on the door frames in Egyptian bondage made the Angel of Death pass over, we are free from eternal death – NOW we understand it all! As Abraham was asked by God to show himself willing to accede to the crazy request to sacrifice his son; although his hand was held back – NOW we understand it all!

We fast-forward 2000 years. In some families, babies are aborted; in some neighborhoods, children are abused; in some towns, little boys and girls are abandoned. Is life cheap? But in some families, miscarriages are grieved; in some neighborhoods, children happily are adopted; in some towns, boys and girls are rescued. Is life precious? For many people, yes. For God, always.

When God chose the Plan of Salvation, He was telling humankind that He was sending the most tender message He could imagine – the importance, the grief, the identification – that God could share with His children. He understands. And now we, too, understand it all.

Do you know what it’s like to lose a child?

God does.

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The amazing J J Heller has written a song with the line “Sometimes I don’t know what You’re doing, But I know who You are.” A song about life, and loss, and romance, and love, and hope; a seemingly secular setting, but a very spiritual message. The same thing, precisely, can be said about Good Friday upcoming. Be blessed.

Click: Who You Are

3-11-13

This is the Christian story: The Lord of the universe was pleased to create the earth and populate it with human beings. An aspect of His love was to imbue His children with free will, which no mortal has ever failed to use toward rebellion and sin. God delivered laws and commands to His Chosen People, called so because in His plan, when the Law would be recognized as insufficient for a rebellious humanity to be reconciled to Him; that from them, a Messiah would arise who would provide the means of that salvation.

These basics are widely known, even if non-Christians shrug their mental shoulders; even if Christians cease to be in awe of God’s plan, even taking for granted their astonishing inheritance. It has been calculated that the odds of all the Old Testament prophecies fulfilled in the birth, life, locations, miracles, and other circumstances surrounding Jesus (most not disputed, even by enemies of His and His disciples at the time) exceed a hundred million to one.

I sometimes wonder, given all this, why the Christian population of the world is approximately 3-billion; more than one-third of humanity. History, threads of religious traditions, logic, the personal testimonies of those who lives have been supernaturally touched – I wonder why 95 per cent of people do not claim Christ.

An answer has come to me. A very 21st-century outlook might be a matter of packaging, or “branding.” Just as, to me, the upcoming end of Lent will feature too much Bunny and not enough Easter, it might be that the church insufficiently communicates the reality of Holy Week as we look ahead.

Most of us know the stories, and the pictures, of Jesus humbly entering Jerusalem on a donkey, amidst adoring crowds. We know He was falsely accused; He was betrayed by one follower, and denied by another; He was chased down and arrested; He was tortured and abused; He was humiliated perhaps as no man ever has been; He died on a rough cross between two criminals; He was carried to a borrowed tomb; on the third day He rose, conquering sin and death.

As scripture prophesied, He was led like a lamb to slaughter.

But can it be that we place too much of our attention on His submission? Jesus could have called down ten thousand angels to lift Him from the cross, to strike His accusers dumb, to spare Himself the pain, humiliation, and (worst, in my book) the abandonment of His friends and disciples.

We must understand that Jesus was born to die. And to overcome death. He knew the Father’s plan to become the sacrificial lamb, to take the sins of the world – our sins, through history to you and me – upon Himself. From the wrath of God, everything we deserve for our rejection and rebellion, He spares us.

So in this view, I have another image. I know it is VIRTUAL, not the way the Bible describes it. Nevertheless it is true. I ask you to see Jesus, not ambling on a donkey into Jerusalem, but galloping full speed. I remind you that Jesus, at the Passover seder, did not stop Judas from ratting Him out, but hurried him on his way. I suggest to you that Jesus, silent before accusers in the temple and before Pontius Pilate, was virtually shouting, “Come on! Do your worst!” That, until He collapsed, a Man of sorrows and a man painfully bleeding, on the via Dolorosa, He carried His cross as if to say, “Let’s do this! For this I came to earth!”

… and that, instead of being stretched and nailed to a cross, it is spiritually the case that Jesus virtually scrambled up that cross. For us. “Forgive them; they know not what they do.” But Jesus knew what He was doing, and despite the portion of humanity with which we can identify (“if it be possible, let this cup pass…”) He was there for us. He was there. For us.

And then, looking forward to what we call Easter Sunday, we read the accounts of the risen Jesus appearing quietly to Mary, to pedestrians on the road, to His old disciples, to many hundreds of others – accounts recorded by the Jewish historian of the era, Josephus, and by the historians Origen and Eusebius. He quietly appeared and witnessed to people. But let us realize that Jesus metaphorically burst forth from that tomb. In that sense he ran out, shouting to everybody, “I’m Alive!!!” In words of Anthony Burger’s little son, ad libbing in a Sunday School pageant, “Here I come, ready or not!”

Then, and now, Jesus runs up to every person and says, “I live so that you may live also! Believe on me, and you shall have life for eternity!”

Let us return from the virtual and metaphorical. These truths, no matter what the details of their playing out, cannot leave us unchanged. We can make the life-changing decision to ignore Him, or the life-changing decision to accept Him. There simply is no middle ground.

If we see Jesus in this different way – that He was Savior not just willing to die for our sins, but EAGER, such is God’s love for us, and that He excitedly confronts us daily – then we might see Lent in another light. And the rest of the year. And the Lord Himself. And the condition of our souls.

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Humanity’s response to God’s plan, and the sacrifice of His Son so that we might be reconciled by the acceptance of Jesus’ substitutionary death, has taken myriad forms through the centuries. Indifference, sadly; to revelation about the availability of a personal relationship with our Savior; to expressions in art and music. The awesome mystery of this salvation plan often is met by the question, “Why Me, Lord?” We know the answer is “Because I love you,” yet our souls scarcely can comprehend the enormity of God’s love. A contemporary song is Kris Kristofferson’s classic plaint, “Why Me, Lord?” Here he explains to some friends how he came to write it, after he had a life-changing experience.

Click: Why Me, Lord?

12-22-12

An early Christmas present. If you are one of the many celebrants who finds joy or solace or peace, each season, by playing Handel’s “Messiah” or letting the TV screen show the never-ending burning Yule log, here is an alternative.

Thanks to uncountable technologies, and innumerable traditions, you can enjoy a marvelous musical and spiritual experience by watching, or just listening to, the “Christmas Oratorio” of Johann Sebastian Bach. One of the greatest pieces of music in Western culture, in or out of churches, Bach’s oratorio is a full composition, like Handel’s, in many parts. There are full orchestra and full choir movements, solos, narrations, and instrumental sections. The words are from the Bible’s story of Christ’s birth; the music is some of the most stirring you will ever hear.

The very first part, “Exult! Rejoice!” (Jauchzet, Frohlocket in German) is an astounding cascade of choir and orchestra led by the motif of tympani drums’ notes.

Like the “Messiah,” it is in several parts and lasts almost three hours. It originally was performed in Bach’s St Nicholas Church, and some nights in St Thomas Church, in Leipzig, in 1734-35, essentially through the 12 nights of Christmas, in parts, beginning on Christmas Day.

Of several excellent performances on the web, I have chosen to share a recent video recorded at that very St Nicholas Church. See the grand Baroque setting as it appeared when first performed… listen to the period instruments, simulating the actual sounds of Bach’s music… enjoy the camera’s examination of the church’s details, and the community’s reverent models and landscapes of the Christmas story.

There are no English subtitles of the German texts, but you know the old, old story! You will hear the names of Jesus and Mary, Abraham and Old Testament prophets, and references to God and angels. The order of the six constituent cantatas’ subjects are: the Birth; the Annunciation to the Shepherds; the Adoration of the Shepherds; the Circumcision and Naming of Jesus; the Journey of the Magi; the Adoration of the Magi. I thought it better to be “home” in Bach’s own church, and to see the re-creation of a Baroque celebration, than to choose a performance-only video, or one of the versions with one old painting on display over the entire performance.

I hope this brings extra joy, special comfort, and stirring inspiration to you this Christmas season. Bach has been called “the Fifth Evangelist,” and works like this illustrate why. Georg Christoph Biller leads the Thomanerchor and the Gewandhausorchester Leizig.

Click: Bach’s Christmas Oratorio

7-30-12

Does God have a sense of humor? Speaking personally, I get grouchy whenever I hear the lame responses like, “Just look in the mirror!” or “Check out the platypus!” These lines are facile and obvious – but they are also spiritually offensive. God created you; He created the mirror; and He even created the platypus, according to His will. Humor is a matter more serious than glib wisecracks.

Whether God has a sense of humor is to some people an open question, but ultimately a silly question. Existentially, God has a sense of humor since senses of humor exist in the world. How it is manifested is a bit problematic – something to add to your long list of “questions to ask the Lord on your first day in heaven.”

In fact there are few biblical instances of God laughing. When He does, it’s usually in derision: laughing contemptuously at the wicked or the condemned. Returning to the existential, it is not intellectual presumption to assume that if Jesus wept (see the shortest verse in Scripture) He surely must have laughed too.

Biblical examples of laughter are few and far between, although we don’t need a description of God actually being mirthful (the Chortling Bush? ) to know that humor has a place in His plan. Consider:

Jesus saying, “Let the dead bury the dead” – a sarcastic challenge to one’s perception.

Similarly, Jesus’s almost visual depiction of the contrast between a speck in one person’s eye and a log in another’s – exaggeration to make His point.

Jesus, again: In the middle of a scathing tirade, He resorted to a ridiculous allusion to paint a contrast, when He compared people’s hypocrisy to someone who strains a gnat out of a cup, but is willing to swallow a camel.

The Savior’s nicknames for His disciples – Peter the Rock, a pun; “Sons of Thunder” – reveal a playful use of humor.

The writer J C Lamont has speculated on the humor in the biblical account of God appearing in some human form and wrestling with Jacob… and resorting to sneakiness to win! He bested Jacob in the area of his putative strength, which is not only a just result, but a humorous ending to that significant chapter in Jacob’s life.

Cartoonist and educator Mark Dittmar sees a graphic use of “black humor” in Paul’s criticism of Judaizers in Galatians – in effect, “Why stop at circumcision? Let them castrate themselves!”

Mark’s wife Lynn can’t resist seeing humor in God speaking through Balaam’s ass – choosing a most ridiculous vessel when something less startling would have sufficed.

We cannot ignore examples of laughter in the Bible – Abraham’s barren wife laughing when she received the news that she would conceive… and her son’s very name, Isaac, meaning “laughter” in Hebrew.

As I recalled nicknames of the Disciples, my mind raced to some prominent names in the church. Is there humor here? –

The first Chief Rabbi of the modern State of Israel, a dignified Torah scholar, nevertheless was named Rabbi Kook;

The most respected Archbishop of Manila, who, after his elevation by Pope Paul VI, and (as is customary) using his last name in his new title, was Cardinal Sin;

Is there any humor in the fact that one of the most corrupt and licentious of popes – fathering two illegitimate children – was Pope Innocent VIII?

In American Evangelicalism, one the cheeriest uplifters and bearers of glad tidings in his crusades was nevertheless named Moody;

At a time when the public was skeptical of televangelists congenitally having boasted and swaggered, there was Jimmy Swaggart;

At a time when the public is skeptical of television ministries’ obsession with money, a prominent TV preacher is named Creflo Dollar;

At a time when the public is skeptical of ministries’ ethical standards – whether donors are being swindled – there is the popular (but very ethical) Chuck Swindoll;

At a time when the public is skeptical of television preachers making questionable claims and popping off on every subject, there was Pastor Peter Popoff.

As it is written, you can’t make this stuff up.

Many are the attributes of God and the names of the Christ in the Bible, and on posters sold in Christian bookstores: Alpha and Omega; The Arm of the Lord; The Author and Finisher of Our Faith; The Faithful Witness; The Good Shepherd; The King of Kings; The Lamb of God; Lord of Lords; Messiah; Prince of Peace; Bright and Morning Star; Balm of Gilead; Our Passover; Rock; Rose of Sharon; Wonderful Counselor; Son of God; Savior. And so on. But one of the most essential often is overlooked – “essential” because it reflects the Essence of Christ.

Friend.

We have become conditioned by generations of paintings and movies and Sunday-school lesson-sheets that portray Jesus as everything from grim to moon-faced mystical to well-coiffed and white-bread. But if Jesus could weep, He surely smiled. And if He loved His friends, and strangers, enough to figuratively climb up on the cross to suffer and die… certainly He cared enough to be a friend, in the best senses we can think of.

We should know the Jesus who smiled, who laughed, who connected with people by a soft word and perhaps a joke, who put His arm around someone in good humor. He was more than familiar with the first verse of Proverbs, chapter 15: “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” He was a Man of Sorrows, the Bible tells us, and therefore humor must have been a special language to those who identified with Him in sorrow.

Just as using “Abba” (in effect, “Daddy”) as another name for God that allows a greater intimacy, let us all see Jesus more often as Lord and Savior… and Pal. He IS a friend like no other.

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If Jesus is our Holy Friend, then the comforting old hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” can occasionally be a little more informal, a little more accessible to us! Here is a Dixieland-Rock-Funk (OK, you come up with a better category) version by the great Bart Millard, moonlighting from MercyMe.

Click: What a Friend We Have in Jesus

4/7/2012

RE-POSTED BY REQUESTED. From March 29, 2010, a great Easter-Sunday message.

Here is possibly the most unique, certainly a most memorable, version of the Easter story you might ever see. A little account of a kid’s Easter pageant. Father and son; death and resurrection; humor and Truth.

It is pianist Anthony Burger a few years ago talking about his five-year-old in an Easter pageant. Ironically, not long after this, Anthony himself died, suddenly, at the keyboard on a gospel-music cruise. His life was a mighty testimony… and so was his little boy’s story.

Click: We Shall Behold Him

4-2-12

“Ecce homo!” Pontius Pilate stood on his balcony and addressed the blood-lusting crowd. “Behold the man!”

Without knowing it, Pilate was being theological. “The Son of Man” was how Scripture referred to the Christ; and so did Jesus, about Himself. “Fully God and fully man.”

More than theological, Pilate was attempting to be just plain logical. “Look at this man!” Pilate said, in effect. “This sorry, battered, silent, modest, individual… THIS is whose crucifixion you demand of me?”

In the words of The Living Bible (Matthew 27:24,25), Pilate had tried logical arguments… as far as his conscience would take him. He told the crowd: “I am innocent of this man’s blood. The responsibility is yours!” And all the people yelled back, “We will take responsibility for his death—we and our children!” [The original Greek the passage reads, “His blood be on us and on our children.”]

The Romans were masters of many things. Various manners and devices of torture were among them. When someone was flogged, the Romans used not a normal whip, but one with many leather straps. The flagellum had as many as 12 thongs. More, they had sharpened pieces of metal or bone woven into their ends. The effect was not whipping but scourging: the prisoner’s back was punctured, laced, and stripped of flesh. Romans knew their torture.

Before this, however, Jesus was subjected to beating and kicking. The crown of thorns was not made from rose-bush stems; the thorns were long and piercing, like filed nails, and this was pressed upon his head. Before this, He was dragged, humiliated, mocked, and spat upon.

The crucifixion, preceded by this tortured man carrying the heavy, splintery cross through the rocky streets of Jerusalem, was another Roman invention. Nails through the ankles and wrists (not the hands, forensics studies teach us, else the body’s weight would have pulled the spikes through the fingers) permitted the body to hang at the perfect angle to prolong life until suffocation of the lungs became the cause of death.

A pertinent fact about the suffering and death of Jesus is that most Roman prisoners condemned to death usually experienced one or maybe two of these trials… seldom all of them. It is plausible that Jesus suffered as much as any human being has ever endured before dying. “Behold the man.”

And yet the worst part of Jesus’ experience, I think, was the betrayal of friends, the rejection of those He came to save, the abandonment by His disciples. Let none of us, not you or me, ever think that WE would have been different; that we would have been with Him till the end. His followers lived with Him more than three years, and saw miracles, experienced His love. But they scattered like leaves in an Autumn breeze. Those whom He raised from the dead; the crippled whom He made walk; the blind who could now see… it is not recorded that they were at the foot of the cross. What significance that the two Marys – His mother; and the woman who received forgiveness of her sins – were there. Family and forgiveness of sins: a foundational lesson to take away from that Good Friday.

To segue again from the historical and logical to the theological, besides a few grieving friends, Roman guards, and the curious, someone else was at the foot of the cross that day.

It was you and me.

We were not there physically, of course, but Jesus saw us. He looked down and looks at you and me. He looks through our eyes into our hearts. He sees our shortcomings and sins. But that look on His face said to us, “I am doing this for you. Whatever separation you have created for yourself by sinning against God does not have to condemn you any more! The old practices of blood-offerings and sacrifices for sins are over. Now. Believe in me as the Son of God, and accept this sacrifice.” Behold THAT Man.

I also believe, impossible as it would have been, that if all humankind up to that moment had been sinless – that if you or I had been the only sinners in God’s creation – that Jesus Christ still would have willingly gone to the cross. He knew what He was doing. After all, the Bible says that He was the agent of Creation, that through Him all things were made. He knew the plan… and He was willing to fulfill it. For you and me.

Behold that MAN.

The old spiritual, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” has countless verses, the traditional call-out structure that has resonated in worship songs among slaves, in bluegrass versions by singers like Wade Mainer, in folk renditions by Johnny Cash and others, touching millions.

Were you there? You were. Just as Jesus has been with us at all the times of our lives. Sometimes it causes me to tremble…

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This version of the old spiritual plaintively is sung a cappella by Russ Taff and a choir; with stark images from The Passion.

Click here: Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?

3-19-12

Over in these parts it’s been a month of pressure, joy, challenges, stress, brokenness, prayer, deadlines, surprises, anticipation, worship, assessment, re-assessment… in other words, not very different than most months; and probably not much different for you. That is, if we want to see things that way – which is a constant temptation.

Looking back on yesterday, do you remember the bad or the good? Thinking of last week, do you remember the frustrations or the joy? Go back a month: do you remember disappointments or promises?

But do we remember Jesus? He, too, was always there. We try to remember Jesus. In any one day, He’s the Jesus of the pressure; He’s the Jesus of the joy; He’s the Jesus of the challenges; He’s the Jesus of the stress; He’s the Jesus of the brokenness; He’s the Jesus of the prayer; He’s the Jesus of the deadlines; He’s the Jesus of the surprises; He’s the Jesus of the anticipation; He’s the Jesus of the worship; He’s the Jesus of the assessments; He’s the Jesus of the re-assessments. And more: of needs, and of healing, and of relationships.

I invite you — especially so that we all don’t start a typical week the typical way — to remember also that He is Fairest Lord Jesus.

Simple: just the loveliest, lovingest, lover of our souls. He’s everything to us… but how often do we just luxuriate in his love? Fall back — trust Him to catch you — and commune for a moment with the Fairest Lord Jesus.

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Enlarge the screen, turn the lights out if you can, watch this music video, and realize that the most beautiful scenes in God’s creation cannot compare to the actual beauty of our loving Savior.

Click: Beautiful Savior

3-12-12

Sixteen years ago, when my wife Nancy was waiting for her heart transplant, our family was led to start a ministry on the Heart Failure floor of Temple University Hospital. Many stories, many salvation decisions, many laughs and tears, many healings, and many mysteries — the sweet God-mysteries — came from the six years we wound up serving patients and their families.

One guy, a rough-cut, white-haired old Italian laborer from New Jersey, was gruff or friendly, depending on his whim. It was usually gruff when we invited him to makeshift services. Vinnie could often be found on the treadmill — I began to suspect that he didn’t need a heart transplant, but was on the floor in some witness-protection program. Some weeks the treadmill was in the solarium, where we held our services, so he occasionally hung around the back door or sat by the window, looking out over Philadelphia, waiting for us all to leave.

Vinnie finally did get his heart. The donor program found a perfect match… on paper. As sometimes happened with heart transplants we witnessed and lived through, “everything” was right, yet Vinnie suffered a stroke on the operating table. He made the usual return to the floor for recuperation, but burly Vinnie started wasting away. He couldn’t move most of his body; he could barely speak; he couldn’t get out of bed, much less hop on the old treadmill.

One Sunday I stopped in Vinnie’s room before our service in the solarium. I small-talked and finally said I had to leave. “Are you going to have the music?” he managed to ask — that’s what he called our services. And I took a cue from the look in his eye. I kidded him: “Hey, buddy, don’t you go anywhere. Church is coming to you this morning.” Everyone who had gathered in the solarium, Nancy and her sermon notes, my kids, even strangers and staff that morning, crowded into Vinnie’s room, spilling out into the hallway. Music and monitors somehow fit in, too, all around his bed.

We opened with prayer, and, in the quiet room, I asked Vinnie if he had a special request. He managed to whisper a gravelly: “Yeah. Can you sing that sparrow song you always sing?”

“His Eye Is On the Sparrow” is based on the sweet promise of Matthew 10:29-31. We often worry about our circumstances – but are we not worth more than sparrows? Even those small birds cannot fall to earth without Father God noticing… and caring. How much more does our Heavenly father love us?

Do YOU always sing this song, or the joy behind its meanings? Do you always remember the promise? Old Vinnie didn’t make it long after that bedside music that he reached out for. But the tears on his face showed that he was at peace with the One who, ultimately and in His loving way, watched over him.

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If big problems or “little things” loom up this week… remember the words of Jesus and, here, the voices of Selah: blessings that will bring you through.

Click: “His Eye Is On the Sparrow”

3-5-12

This week Andrew Breitbart died. Wait, he didn’t just die; it is reported that the 43-year-old “dropped dead while walking outside his house” in Los Angeles. Hyperactive to the last minute, his friends – and opponents – cannot imagine a news cycle these days without his influence.

He was a political activist. Wait, he was more than that: a provocateur, a professional blogger (having helped jump-start the Drudge Report and the Huffington Post before his array of “Big” Breitbart news aggregation sites), the guy behind the expose´ of ACORN and Congressman Anthony Weiner. Unlike most commentators who have reviewed his Roman-candle career, we would like to examine not what he was, but how he got there.

Breitbart was reared by adoptive parents in tony celebrity neighborhoods around Hollywood. He attended Tulane University because of, not despite, its reputation as the nation’s Number One party school. He was a social and political liberal, poster boy of excess. But he followed the news. When Clarence Thomas was nominated to the Supreme Court, Andrew watched the hearings and thought a decent man was the victim of what Thomas himself characterized as a “high-tech lynching” because he was Christian and conservative.

Andrew’s worldview turned on a dime. A natural contrarian, perhaps, he viewed political correctness as a putative form of censorship; he espied a cultural war on Christians (even if some Christians did not) and traditional American values; and he enlisted, often as an army of one, in the fight to redeem the culture. He got involved in politics, the media, entertainment, and business. As a human whirlwind, in a few years he inspired liberals to become conservatives, secularists to become crusaders, the indolent to become activists, defeatists to become optimists.

But our look at his life is not about his politics, but his passion. Sometimes wild-eyed and wild-haired, he was a “gonzo” journalist. He said things, and showed up places, and pushed ideas that “normal” people don’t. Thank God for “abnormal,” passion-filled, warriors who believe what they do… and do what they believe. They populate lists of martyrs, and they substitute for the timid amongst us.

They say that converts make the most rabid believers, whether in religion or the realms of addictions. Breitbart converted – a congenital self-assured type, he was open to truth, and converted without ever looking back.

Wait, it wasn’t just him. His father-in-law experienced a similar conversion. Same paradigm, different story, same family. Orson Bean is the famous polymath – actor, comedian, author, raconteur – who has been a show-biz fixture since the 1950s. Movies: Anatomy of a Murder; Being John Malkovich. Stage: Never Too Late; Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? TV: hundreds of appearances on The Tonight Show and To Tell The Truth, also The Twilight Zone; Desperate Housewives. Recordings: Charlie Brown in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Books: M@il for Mikey.

Breitbart’s father-in-law Orson Bean has recounted his own conversion, from a blacklisted actor to a familiar face; from obsessions with sex, alcohol, and drugs to being “clean”; from a trendy scoffer to a born-again Christian. His is a great story, one he recounted in the extremely engaging book, M@il for Mikey.

Wait. If a Christian-conversion story can ever be “normal,” Orson’s is not one of those. We hear many converts say that they developed an “emptiness within,” or created a “void” in their souls by their choices. Orson has a very different, and very unique variation – blue-ribbon theology from this vaunted wit: In a column he wrote called “An Emptiness Only the Holy Spirit Can Fill” (for one of the Breitbart sites!) he posited:

“[When people have used up the temporary highs of sex and drugs and booze and fame and wealth,] they’re still left with a hole in the middle of them that the Creator stuck there, knowing that eventually they’d feel the urge to fill it and do what they had to do to seek Him out.”

In other words, God PUTS this void, this longing, this emptiness in us all… so that we will seek Him. It’s like the Andre Crouch line about Without problems, we couldn’t know how to solve them. It’s like the evangelists’ plea not to be jealous of angels, because they can never know what it is like to be redeemed, to see the light, to convert, to gain a passion, to know what Amazing Grace is.

One of Orson Bean’s revelations came through reading C S Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Another astounding exegetical book of the 20th century is John Stott’s Basic Christianity, a similar book of intellectual blessing. As quoted in a recent issue of Trak Magazine, Stott once said:

“Every Christian should be both conservative and radical; conservative in preserving the faith, and radical in applying it.”

My friend Dan Kimball loves holding up the Ramones as a band, less concerned with success than the sheer joy of making music. Passion! So was the free-spirit Orson Bean in sharing Christ: conservative, radical, passionate. So was his son-in-law Andrew Breitbart, on fire in everything he did, from national issues to texting friends about movies.

So was Jesus. Conservative and radical. And passionate enough to stick it to evil and sin and death, to virtually climb up onto the dirty cross and die for us.

Wait: Jesus’ death substituted for us, but God forbid that we let His love and commitment substitute for our own passions and actions. Get out there! Have you been converted? Do it!

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Orson Bean is even careful to specify Jesus, not Father God (Who sent His Son for this reason) as the answer to the “hole in the middle of us all.”

Click: There’s Just Something About That Name

2-27-12

Coming — The Most Awful Day in Mankind’s History
This is a Lenten message, but about the end of the Lenten Season, not the beginning. So many holy days / holidays are associated with the period before Easter, that some can lose their meaning, if not their significance. We can think of how Mardi Gras and various Carnivals around the world steal from the unique spirituality of the Lenten Season that begins on Ash Wednesday. And during Holy Week itself, yes, commercialism and carnality intrude, but mostly the immense implications of Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, tend to eclipse the other days.

We sometimes can benefit from looking at days on the church calendar that are less celebrated than others; and it is good to think about Christian days “out of order.” In fact it interrupts our appreciation of the fullness of God when we compartmentalize Christmas in the winter, Easter in the Spring … whoops, Palm Sunday comes first, let’s keep things in order. Commemoration is beneficial, and I’ll be the first to admit that I need reminders about some things; but we can let the calendar rule us, sometimes.

Shouldn’t we celebrate Christ’s coming to earth, God condescending to become flesh and identify with humankind – and us better with Him – every day of the year? Not just Christmas day! And woe to us if we contemplate the fact of the Resurrection – an astonishing miracle, with its implications for all of Creation, and for each of us individually – more on Easter Sunday than every day, every minute, of our lives.

In that context I have a thought about “Holy Week,” down at the other end of the Lenten Season. Palm Sunday we know about well, from the festive welcome Jesus received, and many re-creations we see. Some traditions observe Maundy Thursday and solemnly meditate on the sorrows of Jesus’s last hours as a man. Christian churches open, and even the New York Stock Exchange closes, to observe Good Friday. Easter, of course: it is central to believers’ faith; it is when families get together; it is when “Chreasters” (people who attend church on Christmas and Easter) come out to see their shadows, thank God.

But except for ancient traditions and very liturgical and Orthodox churches, and even then never to the degrees accorded other holy days, the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday receives scant focus. “Holy Saturday” is the only name it has, and some ancient rites would hold services in stark settings, and exercise fasting, on the day.

It deserves a major portion of our attention.

Many theologians divide history in half: all of Creation and humankind before Jesus; then the Incarnation and redemption of the world after the Resurrection. Mankind was under the curse of the Law until His death on the cross; and, the Bible tells us – Jesus Himself told us – after the Resurrection, life is in Him. It is the message written on every page of scripture… numerous prophecies and prefiguring and foreshadows in the Old Testament, pointing to Christ. The Scarlet Thread of Redemption. And now we are heirs to numerous promises about Eternity.

Glorious! Yet… there was one day in history when humanity must have felt utterly alone. Multitudes had heard Jesus’s teachings. Many did not understand. Some did. But everyone in Jerusalem – haters and scholars, followers and family – all knew one thing that Saturday.

Jesus was gone. He died. There were many witnesses. It was official. He was prepared for burial in the usual way, wrapped and buried. The earth was dark, Jerusalem was silent. Those who followed His ministry faced His absence. Those who knew Him best, even His mother, confronted the void. The Bible’s accounts tell us that nobody remembered, or believed any more, the scripture’s prophecies, or His promises.

You and I know what happened the next day. But we would not have known on that Saturday: no one did.

Was that Saturday not just the most awful day in His followers’ hearts, but in mankind’s history? Literally and figuratively, Jesus was removed from our midst on that day. People whose faith had sustained them… were shaken. People who had witnessed miracles, who had experienced miracles… prayed vainly for another. He had comforted the little children, and the widows, and the orphans, and the sick, and the needy, and the outcasts, and the sinners… would they be comforted no more? “I have come that you might have life”… was His life over? “I will be with you always,” the promise that would be spoken later but surely was a message of His entire ministry… was it a lie?

The nearest I can imagine to the feelings in people’s hearts that Saturday is what I have read about “terminal” feelings of being alone, truly alone. People who have survived suicide attempts, for instance, often confess to an extreme, aching sense of “aloneness,” not normal loneliness or isolation, of being aware that there are no helpers, no friends to call upon. Sometimes people are not aware of God’s presence; they call out but cannot hear an answer in their distress. “Cold” is the word most often used with “alone.”

Surely this feeling, deeper than deep in the soul, is the most awful emotion anyone can feel. Disappointment, failure, defeat, betrayal, standard tragedies, cannot come close. They are not AS close to our core.

And this is the feeling that Jesus’s family and followers must have felt that Saturday we look forward to in a few weeks; before He revealed Himself, and all Truth, to them. Indeed, all Creation felt that feeling on that day. Thank God that humankind has never had another such day, before or since.

Is there a benefit in this morose contemplation? I don’t believe it is morose; it is all in God’s plan. How much greater does the glory of Easter seem? How much more can we appreciate the presence of a Living Savior in our lives? How sweeter is the Christian walk if we remind ourselves of the horror of being alone… but instead, having a Friend who not only overcame death, but takes our hand to lead us to places where we will never be alone!

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“There’s not a thing in this world that’s worse than being alone… Take my hand, let me stand…”

Click: Where No One Stands Alone

2-6-12

I recently posted a picture on Facebook of a tattered Bible, opened to no place in particular, but the two pages looking like a Technicolor spectacular, with notes, revelations, and reminders in its margins. Bookmarks and Post-It notes splayed forth from many spots. Many people mark verses and passages that speak – or shout – to them in their Bibles.

Accompanying this picture I found was the quotation by Charles Spurgeon, “People whose Bibles are falling apart usually lead lives that aren’t.” It reminded me of the country song whose title warned listeners against “dust on the Bible.”

There are some devout people who think that any notes or marks we make in the Holy Bible is a form of desecration, but I am of the school that thinks that scripture, the Holy Word, is also God’s User Manual for Life. I suspect it pleases Him when we are touched by a truth… want to revisit things easily… find ways we can organize the wisdom, commands, and promises… and know it all better.

In a way, margin-notes and color highlighters are not all that different from the old-fashioned versions of the Bible, those “Red Letter” editions. On the spines or title pages, sometimes, we read, “Jesus’ Words in Red.” Just so. Easy to find; quicker to, perhaps, memorize.

Certainly there is utility in highlighting Christ’s words. But even when a kid I used to wonder whether that would suggest to some people that the rest of the Bible was NOT the inspired Word of God, or not AS inspired. If God caused scripture to be written; if the Holy Spirit inspired every word, should not ALL the Bible be printed in red letters? “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the servant of God may be perfect, thoroughly provided for all good works” (II Timothy 3:16-17).

Again, just so. Jesus is Savior, but we must resist the temptation, when highlighting only His words, to think that the rest of the Bible might (as many in the world think) “merely” be the thoughts of good men, or well-meaning legends, or less than Holy.

I have been blessed enough to visit some of the world’s great cathedrals, and it was brought to my mind, despite the memorable majesty, that God does not dwell only in grand churches. In fact, we go to church to worship God, not really to meet Him. I have also been profoundly moved in some of the world’s humblest chapels; and, so, I am sure, you have been too. Plus, we are reminded that our very bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit.

Therefore, like Bibles we mark and underline, our worship-temples are not remote: they come with us, they are part of us. A fancy Bible can prompt reverence, just as a mighty cathedral can remind us of God’s grandeur. But if it stops there, we sadly are left with counterfeit experiences. The Bible is, instead, a lamp unto our feet. And when we enter the Temple of Life, so to speak – not some New Age cliché, but in the reality of God’s habitation of every aspect of our lives – then we can experience many “red-letter days” God intends for us.

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“The Temple of Life” is a place we all may enter! Like Red-Letter Bibles, we run the fear of proscribing, or categorizing, the God-portions of our lives. If we “carve out” times for God, better it would be that we spend every hour of every day with Him, and let that one hour on Sunday morning go astray! A musical celebration of that point of view is this “Christian blues” song (in chord structure, not a blue or sad theme!) – in fact an upbeat, reverent, “Thank you Jesus” song, in the words of its closing words. That the singer is Avril Levigne might surprise some people, but she grew up Christian and her early performances and recordings were Jesus songs, like “Temple of Life.”

Click: The Temple of Life

1/30/2012

A guest message this week by my daughter, Heather Shaw.

“What are your expectations for your life?” our pastor asked the congregation this past Sunday as he preached on the Book of James.

My husband and I began jotting down some of our personal and family goals and dreams. The pastor then asked, “Do you feel disappointed with God over dreams that haven’t turned out the way you wanted them?” Our answer: Yes.

We’ve had a rough few years involving having to sell our house at a loss; our son born prematurely; moving; a job layoff; and a job for my husband that is not where his ultimate passion lies, and which requires a long commute. We are strongly committed to our faith and try to please God in all we do. We are driven people who have, in the past, been able to dream something and make it happen. We have alternated between feeling peaceful and trusting God, and feeling restless and angrily questioning Him. We have prayed “Your will be done”… and we have prayed “Are you there? Are you listening?”

James 1:2-4 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” This is a hard one. It is hard to be thankful for the trials in the midst of them. It might be easier to look back, when things are (you hope) in a better place. But when the storm is raging and you feel like you’ve lost your footing, it can be hard to stay joyful.

In the Book of James, it says “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do” (1:22-25, NIV).

We always thought about “doing” the Word as assignments: God says to care for others; God says to be generous, loving; etc. But Jesus calls us to something deeper instead of merely a task-oriented faith. When we look into God’s Word, just like looking into a mirror, we discover who we are.

The picture isn’t always pretty. We are sinful creatures who fall short of God’s holy standard, incurring His punishment. But the Good News is that Jesus loves us so much that He rescued us and took our punishment for us by dying on the cross. When we “look intently” into that truth, then nothing else will matter and no trial will shake us because we will have the joy of knowing we have such a loving God who saw our real need. Sure, we feel we have other needs – for example, for a job, or food, or security. But our ultimate need was for a Savior… and Jesus already met that need. This is true love and what Jesus offers us. Not just a list of tasks to do.

The Bible can teach, pastors can preach, but sometimes this lesson can speak to us the loudest and clearest from unexpected places. In 1971 a homeless man understood this truth… and shared it in his own way.

English Filmmaker Gavin Bryars was working on a documentary about the homeless around London. One man of the many captured on film sang a quiet chorus to himself over and over:

Jesus’ blood never failed me yet, never failed me yet.
Jesus’ blood never failed me yet.
This one thing I know, For He loves me so.

This actually was not used in the film, but it haunted Bryars, who eventually added an accompaniment to the man’s simple song, extended it, and turned it into a recording. many people have since heard it – Tom Waits and Jars of Clay have made recordings too – and it has touched millions.

This is powerful! This man had nothing that we might consider worth singing about. Contemporary Christians often spend more time focused on “worldly” desires than spiritual needs. That’s not to say we shouldn’t be concerned about our life’s details or to pray about them, but what would happen to our daily lives if we were to come back to a focus on what really matters: our salvation?

Whatever other trials this anonymous, forgotten man faced, he looked in the “mirror,” recognized his true need for a Savior, and proclaimed that to others, where he was, in the way that he could.

I haven’t been able to get this song out of my head all week! This simple, quiet, musical prayer, reminds us that absolutely nothing is more important than Jesus’ gift of salvation that he gave us when He died on the cross. That’s all. The economy may have failed us, but His blood hasn’t. Employers may have failed us, but His blood hasn’t. Health may have failed us, but His blood hasn’t. Our own plans may have failed us, but His blood hasn’t. He loves us so.

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I thank Heather for sharing this message, and this song. It is impossible, I think, not to hear it once and not want to listen again, and again. Its truth becomes stronger. “Poor homeless man?” No, he was rich in the knowledge and understanding that he was a son of Jesus our King. Knowing the Truth, and rejoicing in it: a simple task, after all.

Click: Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet

1-23-12

Being in the cartoon business for most of my life, I am familiar with one of the standard clichés: someone arrives in Heaven and, bing, there are the Pearly Gates; a bearded St Peter; a giant guest register.

Easy to draw, hard to see. That is, to see in the way the Bible describes our first day in Heaven. There is no check-in procedure. No nervous waiting to hear whether the pencil we swiped in fifth grade will keep us out. And St Peter – oh, he will be there, among the multitudes we will want to meet. I burn with curiosity to, possibly, ask questions of Abraham and Moses and St Paul and Luther. And Job! Augustine! And countless martyrs who served the poor and the oppressed.

But the first thing that we will see will be Jesus, from my reading. The Bible says He is seated at the right hand of God’s throne, which might be so blinding white with glory as to obscure other things; yet we will not be able to take our eyes from it.

So, I think visually. But we all must, at least in this case. We imagine Heaven “through our minds’ eyes.”

There are some people for whom this is easier than for the rest of us. Many believers who are blind have testified that they can “see” a silver lining, so to speak, in their sightlessness. For instance, there is the factor of other senses being heightened. And there are the plausible cases for increased sensitivity to other peoples’ challenges. And a practical understanding of dependence. These things, the rest of us can imagine.

But many blind people have shared a unique and tender – but passionate – thrill of expectation that when their sight is restored, when they have their perfect bodies in Heaven, the first thing that they see will NOT be the “Pearly Gates.” That was the testimony of the blind hymn-writer (9000 hymns) Fanny Crosby; it is in the title of a song by the blind gospel singer Terri Gibbs: “The First Thing That I See Will Be Jesus.”

My good friend Anna Marie Spencer sent me a video this week of the latest such person to manifest that powerful faith. Ten-year-old Christopher Duffley was born blind and with severe autism. His mother had been on drugs; he was up for adoption. Pretty tough odds. But at the age of four he started to sing for Jesus, and has touched many people since then. Some day, in Glory, he and Fanny Crosby and Terri Gibbs will look at each other and share stories. I’d like to sketch that get-together.

In the meantime little Christopher sings. Amazingly. He teaches the rest of us onlookers how to overcome, how to triumph, how to… see. “Seeing,” after all, is most special in relation to what we look at. Those of us who sometimes are handicapped by taking good vision for granted, need to see that truth clearly.

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This brief video is of little Christopher Duffley singing “Open the Eyes of My Heart” in Manchester, New Hampshire. My guess is that most of the eyes that were upon him that evening not just saw, but wept, at this awesome performance.

Click: Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord

1-9-12

It’s all over the news now, the disparity between the “99 per cent” and the “One per cent” – or, rather, the resentment and envy that the majority is supposed to harbor against the more wealthy. It is at the core of the “Occupy” crowds’ chants and signs.

Theodore Roosevelt correctly observed that the sin of envy is no less a sin than that of greed. And years ago, a friend from France once gave me the best definition of Socialism (therefore, its most potent pushback). Francois Mitterand had been elected president in his country; the Socialists were coming to power; and among their proposals, in the name of equality, was the abolition of First-Class seats on public transportation.

“Why is it that the Socialists never want to abolish anything that is second-class?” my friend asked.

That riposte has come to mind when hearing so often lately of the Ninety-Nine versus the One per cents. “Versus” is the operative word; a campaign to raise the civic temperature. But something else has come to mind – that Jesus had a different take on the numbers of 99 and one. Nothing to do with current politics… except as those numbers provide a shout-out to our souls.

Let us remember Christ’s parable of the Lost Sheep. It is found in Luke 15:4-7. The gentle shepherd had a flock of 100, but one had gone astray. And he set out to search, high and low, far and wide, for that wayward sheep. The sheep was found, rescued, and restored to the shepherd’s flock.

Many of us have the natural reaction to think that the sensible thing would have been to play safe with the ninety-nine. A similar impulse, in the other parable of the Prodigal Son, is to observe that the other son was slighted after all of his work and obedience, while his errant brother was feted by the father upon his return.

Our problem as humans is that we tend to see ourselves as members of the flock of ninety-nine. “What is one sheep against so many?” We get proud of our accomplishments, jealous of others receiving favor. Our bigger problem is that God sees us as that Lost Sheep, and the son who departed and sinned – not as we see ourselves.

Heaven rejoices when one sinner is saved, when the Good Shepherd has restored the wayward. Our Heavenly Father arranges a lavish feast when we return. In each case we are not rewarded for straying: we are forgiven when we return.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine–
Are they not enough for Thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer, “This of Mine
Has wandered away from Me;
And although the road be rough and steep
I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

Jesus not only seeks us out; He persists. For us to be as THAT “one percenter” we should be grateful… and can take assurance. Occupy God’s flock.

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“The Ninety and Nine” was written as a children’s poem by Elizabeth Clephane in 1868. The great hymn-writer Ira D Sankey read it when on a Dwight L Moody crusade in Scotland years later; he tucked it into his vest pocket. That evening Moody preached on “The Good Shepherd,” and asked Sankey, his worship leader, to sing a hymn. Sankey remembered that poem in his pocket, took it out, and sang this song impromptu, forming the music as he went. It is now a standard of the church.

Click: The Ninety and Nine

12-26-11

The two men were good friends, “brothers” with the same sense of humor, who shared interests, and who could finish each other’s sentences. Ed was passionate about politics, but Kenneth was totally apolitical, so disagreements on that score never arose. Kenneth was also areligious – somewhere between agnostic and intellectual hipster – so the fervent Christian Ed found a challenge in his friend. Kenneth never objected to debating or receiving tracts or casual points or heavy witnessing. But he never cared much either, one way or the other.

Ed moved away from their “zone” of neighborhood contacts and frequent lunches. Several states (geographical, not psychic) separated them. Their friendship and common profession mandated continued contact, but, as these things usually go, they spoke less frequently.

After one quiet stretch, Kenneth called Ed and learned that an enormous amount of “life” had occurred since their last chat.

Ed went down a sad checklist: his work had dried up, and money was scarce. His wife was extremely sick with multiple ailments, and there was no insurance to cover the situations. Ed’s mother was dying in far-off Florida, and on the way to the train station he was rear-ended at a red light, and his only car was totaled. “Those are just the highlights,” Ed joked in their typical fashion. “It gets pretty grim after that. But we’re OK now.”

“How are you OK?” Kenneth knew that Ed was being serious here.

“Well, it was a series of amazing events, really,” Ed said. “My wife is in pretty good shape now – the doctors were good and performed terrifically, but in a couple of instances they saw healings they couldn’t explain. After the first hospitalization, a friend in church who is an insurance agent told me that my business activities, though slim, actually qualified us for a group plan. We signed up, and there was full coverage for the later surgeries, not even a ‘cap.’”

Kenneth slipped into his old mode: “So, don’t tell me, your mother rose from the dead.”

“No, she died, but I was able to be with her in time and share a beautiful Good-Bye. While I was gone, some friends in church whose house is so big they almost have their own Zip Code, took the kids in and drove them to school each morning. And the car? Yes, it was totaled, but our pastor lent us his van – an extra since his daughter went to college, for as long as we needed it.

“God seemed to provide at every turn.”

Kenneth was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it surprised Ed slightly. “You know, you’re always saying how God provides this, and Jesus answered that. Why don’t you listen to what you just said? The doctors were good, on their own. Your friend was looking for an insurance commission. It was friends who offered their house to your kids, not Jesus. And the van was a spare in the driveway. It was your FRIENDS who did these things for you, not Jesus.”

Now Ed was silent for a moment. “No… it was Jesus,” he said. “He was just working through my friends.”

Christmas is over, but the Gift remains. No, let us put it the proper way – Christmas is over, and the Gift remains! Hallelujah! A gift can be seen as neutral, by itself. Its significance derives from who gives it; the intention of the giver; the attitude of the recipient; the use to which the gift is put. Christ was God Incarnate, God with us, our means to forgiveness, salvation, eternal fellowship with God. We accept Jesus into our hearts. But what we DO with this Gift from God is the real significance.

Jesus “in our hearts” is not to hide Him, but to make Him part of our relational DNA, an aspect of our new selves. It can happen. He shines forth, He affects our natures. We show Him, we share Him. That is the real gift – the miracle of Christmas. You don’t have to hunt ancient or arcane scripture to see this happen.

Just ask Ed.

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Joy Williams has written an anthem about what it means to be a Christian. First, to accept Him. Second, to “be” Him to other people. That’s not a long list. But Joy puts it so beautifully.

Click: Do They See Jesus in Me?

9-5-11

It is my observation that when Christians feel they have let God down, it is usually not because of some grievous sin, but more often a feeling that their faith was lacking… their trust has fallen short… that we have not put into practice what we know to be the truth. And we are aware that this grieves the heart of God.

(By the way, this has been my observation, not from eagle-eye examinations of other Christians, but of my own actions and inactions.)

Those feelings about the heart of God probably are correct. We have sinful natures, but God already gifted us with provisions for sin: grace, forgiveness, justification, salvation. We can know today that our sins can be transformed from scarlet stains to pure-white. But when we get to points in our lives, which we all surely have or will, when we just don’t have enough faith in one area… or we cannot summon enough trust in God’s promises… or we know those Bible verses, and God’s will for our lives, and Jesus’s 24/7 availability… but we don’t attain the answer or victory or peace – this doesn’t mean we are bad Christians.

It just means we are… Christians.

That’s right. Normal, flawed, struggling, doubting, hurting, Christians. The only kind there is, actually. We might be saved, but we still can be confused at times. Sometimes our hearts are together, but our heads get messed up. Or vice-versa. Welcome to the human race. We are forgiven, not perfect… remember?

What grieves God, I believe, is that He does not want us to go through these things, feeling alone. He sent the Holy Spirit to comfort us, strengthen us, give us wisdom. Too many Christians, at low points, feel the need to prove to God that we can make it. Yeah, we can pull it together. Watch: I’ll remember all those promise-verses. Maybe I’ll prove to my friends that my faith is getting me through. I’ll make You proud of me again, God.

But how many Christians say, “I just can’t do this, God! Help me!” or “I surrender! I need you!!” There is nothing shameful in that. Just the opposite. Christianity is the only religion in the world – in fact, the only system of any construction – where Surrender equals Victory.

When we were born again, we did not become Gods. We became children of God. What child, feeling sad, does not run and cry “Daddy!” (the translation of “Abba”) – and what loving father does not receive that child in love?

Confess, surrender, ask for forgiveness; such, I believe, is the essence of the law and the prophets. And the gospel. It is the reason, the very reason, that God makes Himself known to us in the person of the Holy Spirit. No fight left? No problem – Jesus is our yoke, our strong arm, our strength, our fortress, our deliverer. Our Savior. Would you have Him sit on the sidelines while you struggle?

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There is no fight left on the inside now… but maybe that’s where I should be. These are words from J J Hellers’s amazing song.

Click: No Fight Left

6-27-11

Casual thoughts about random memories have brought me to a new way to see Jesus.

I was talking with a friend recently about travel memories. Many of my trips to Europe have been intertwined with music. I have made a couple trips specifically to attend music festivals, so that’s a gimme. There were a couple of examples where, travel-weary, I stumbled on concerts being offered of favorite pieces. Those performances – one in the little Alpine village of Berchtesgaden, one in an ancient cathedral in Paris – were amazing medicine at the time, and amazing memories still. Mozart in Salzburg. If you know Mozart’s music, your jealousy can officially start now.

Except as music touches our souls, these were not specifically spiritual moments. And Travel is a creature unto itself, as travel junkies know. In my conversation, memories of great meals, great wines, and great friends also were shared.

But one memory has symbolized a truth; that is, once I heard something in a new way, and it made me see things in a new way. A hotel where I stay in Rome is near the Basilica of Saint Paul “Outside the Walls,” so called because it traditionally is regarded as where St Paul was buried after martyrdom, and its location was outside what used to be the system of walled defenses. I visit that church, with its courtyard beneath a giant mosaic of Christ on His throne, brilliantly reflecting tiles of real gold on sunny days.

Inside, once, I was deep in prayer and I gradually was conscious of music – not organ music; there was no service. It was voices, young voices, and a guitar; it was language I didn’t know, but the song was a praise and worship tune from the US, I did know quite well. The soft music echoed through the huge basilica. Was I hearing angels?

I let my eyes adjust, and saw that it was a group of school children, seated in several pews, and their leader playing the guitar. I later learned they were from South America. A Christian group, felt led to break out in song, worshiping in quite an appropriate place.

This could be one more travel tale, or a music connection. But I have realized a greater lesson. I was from one continent, on another continent, encountering this group from a third continent. I spoke English; they spoke Spanish; we were in Italy. We were strangers. Yet a worship song, no matter the words or tune but because of the One being worshiped, made me feel as close as family.

A few moments earlier I had been deep in prayer in a special setting. I probably would not have thought I could possibly feel closer to Jesus. Well, I did, instantly, when those kids softly started singing… and it wasn’t just their voices, or that He suddenly showed up. He was always there. He is always there, and here. We always can try to see Him a little better.

There are a million ways to do this. When you see things in threes – traffic lights, for instance – be reminded of the Trinity and thank God for His Holy Spirit. We have already talked about Father’s Day, and the thought we should have about our Heavenly Father. And so on.

But then I thought of something that might not be accurate theology, but is a pretty good road map for my “walk.” It is also in the category of Jesus always being around us, and how we can look or listen a little better to find Him. Jesus, at the Last Supper, took the bread and wine and, speaking symbolically in my view, referred to them as His Body and Blood, “broken for us and shed for us.” He then shared the meal.

Is it possible that Jesus did not only mean, “when you gather in a religious service once a week or once a month, and consecrate the elements, do this in remembrance of Me”? But might He also have meant, “As oft as you eat something like bread or drink something, let them be reminders that I broke my body for you, and I shed my blood for you.”

I try to keep to that! And many other reminders during every day, who Jesus is; and what He has done; and how close He is. Try that yourself! Even casual thoughts and random memories will take on new meanings. Where’s Jesus? You’ll see.

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Here is another, and random, example of cross-cultural spiritual kinship. The Boy’s Choir of Sofia, Bulgaria, singing the the rousing “Gloria!” by Vivaldi.

Click: Gloria!

4-22-11

For a few days, those two thousand years ago, the scoffers – the religious leaders who conspired to have Him arrested, sentenced in a kangaroo court, and put to death – they laughed and said, “See? All those claims were false! He was not God! If He were God, He could have called down ten thousand angels to lift Him from the cross! He did not lift a finger to save Himself!”

Of course they were right… about not saving Himself. He lifted not a finger, in order to save US. And even them, the ones who condemned Him. But for a few days they seemed correct.

We know now, as they should have, that countless prophesies were fulfilled in that Man’s life. But that did not make Him God. He claimed, in that mystery of mysteries, that He and the Father were one. But that claim alone waited to be shown. He was betrayed, tortured, abandoned, crucified; yes, suffered without complaint. But that did not prove at all that He was God. He died and was buried, according to the Scriptures, and that… No, we must stop there. He died.

Jesus died. He was a dead man. He was as dead as Lazarus had been. His body was treated and prepared for burial as dead bodies were. It was wrapped, completely, in burial cloths. He was dead. The life was out of Him.

Isn’t it easy, sometimes, to forget the meaning of those few days between the Crucifixion and Easter? Those days — just as much as the prophecies and the miracles and suffering and death and words of forgiveness — those days have as much to do with pointing to Jesus as GOD, as all the familiar factors do.

Those scoffers said, “He saved (or healed) (or raised from the dead) others -– let Him save Himself!” Well, it was the God-in-Jesus who raised people from the dead… and when He left that tomb, it was proof to the local folks -– and to every inch of mighty Creation! -– that Jesus was God. Jesus IS God.

Because unless Jesus rose from the dead, He was not God. Everything else about that life is a statistic or a coincidence. Details. If there is no Resurrection, our faith is in vain.

In parts of the Old World, and in the Old Church, routine greetings between people are: “He is risen!” “He is risen indeed!” … and not just on Easter Week. A good habit.

But as you think of the audacious, outrageous miracle of a resurrected body, with the Divine promise that we, too, may one day overcome death, and know this truth now, I challenge you to put aside traditional, nice Easter thoughts. Of peace. And of what the holiday has become. Don’t reject the traditions, just put them to the side for a moment.

Because in a very essential way, Easter is not only a day of peace. When Jesus the Christ emerged from that tomb, it was not just so Thomas could touch the wounds. It was not just so Peter could have a second chance (third? fourth??) as a disciple. Jesus walked out, in a whole and glorified body, to meet each one of us, face to face. “Here I AM.” He challenges us: “I am alive. Now what?”

Now what???

What it means is that we must be changed as profoundly as He was on that day now called Easter. Shame on us if we think, “Rose from the dead. Yeah, well, that’s what gods DO.” In that sense, Easter is not just a Day of Peace. It is the most dangerous day of the church calendar; it is the most dangerous day of our lives.

Because nothing should, or can, be the same, after we meet the Resurrected Lord, the Not-Dead Jesus, the God-with-us. It must transform us, and everything we do and think or live, or we are as dead as He briefly was.

He is risen. He is risen indeed! HE’S ALIVE!

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Click: He’s Alive!

4-18-11

The Lenten Season draws to a close. Through 40 days and 40 nights, I have been trying to think of this traditional observance in non-traditional ways. We can do that – for instance by identifying with what Jesus “took up” in His sacrifice, as well as what He “gave up” by His sacrifice – and be faithful to scripture.

But on Palm Sunday, when I think of Jesus entering the gates of Jerusalem, I come, myself, to a dead end of this exercise. There are not too many fresh ways to see those events. We know that He entered in humble and even seemingly absurd ways, like riding a donkey, in fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies, verse after verse after verse.

We know that one reason Jesus was hailed by crowds was because some people hoped he would be a revolutionary leader to overthrow the Romans. Frankly, He had been preaching for three and a half years, so most people would have known that Jesus was an unlikely guerilla fighter, few of whom storm a city on a donkey. No, the exuberant reception probably was due more to buzz about this man who walked on water; created wine and lunches from nothing; healed the blind, the deaf, and the crippled; and raised people from the dead. The grumblers in the crowd knew – and resented – that He also was wiser than they about the law, and that He claimed in fact to be the fulfillment of the Law.

We know all that. And there are not many ways to bring new interpretations to the events of Palm Sunday.

…except if we try to imagine ourselves to be the people on the Jerusalem streets, waving palms and laying them before Jesus in honor. And if we can try to go BACK in time 2000 years, let us also imagine ourselves a few days later also, as this same Man we cheer is now in shackles, under sentence of death.

Palms, and an old robe or two, whatever the local traditions of honor, were the cheapest things possible to lay down before Jesus. So were shouts, even hewing to the literal meaning of “Hosanna” and references to the Messiah. “Talk is cheap.” If we really wanted to honor Jesus, if we really believed He was the promised Messiah, the proof was not showing up at a party-like parade, but acting like we believed it, later in the week. And we scattered. A few of us denied even knowing Him. Some of us even demanded that He be put to death. And enough of us joined in, laughing at Him, spitting on Him.

Palm Sunday, in those lights, seem like a cruel joke. Must it not have seemed so to Jesus? It’s not like the fans who were at the gates showed up at Pilate’s, defending their Savior, losing the Barabbas-vote by a slim margin. Those former fans were not there; or if they were there, their real beliefs finally were on display.

Are the people who were waving palms, and shouting for their Messiah – their “personal savior” – different than we are? What makes them different? What makes us different? It can’t be that WE know how the story ended: prophetic details were clear enough to those people. And Jesus claimed, and repeatedly proved, who He was, right to their faces.

No, Palm Sunday is one of the most difficult times of the year for believers. Not only for what was about to happen to Jesus, physically; but perhaps for what has NOT yet happened to our hearts, spiritually.

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Click: Hosanna

4-4-11

Another Lenten contemplation.

A recently released book is raising dust in Christian circles. Frankly, the controversy probably is bigger than the book itself, but so it goes. Love Wins by Rob Bell presents the argument that most people, or all people, will eventually be redeemed from hell, if there is a hell, because Jesus’s death was an atonement for all of creation. Eventually, in this life or sometime in Eternity, souls will be persuaded to accept Him.

I believe I have summarized the book properly. One of the author’s tenets is that God is so loving, it seems impossible that He would let people go to hell.

If I have not properly summarized the book, then I have properly summarized dozens of very similar heresies and distortions of scripture from the past 2000 years. In brief, there is a theological proposition called Universalism, generally meaning that everyone since Calvary has been or will be “saved” from punishment – from the penalty of sin and rebellion against God. And maybe even retroactively, before Calvary. Some call it Universalism. I call it Wishful Thinking.

The Lenten season is useful to believers as we contemplate the implications of our sins, our need for salvation, the concept of Jesus’ substitutionary death, the triumph of His overcoming the grave, and the meaning of His ascension to Heaven. The truth of it all.

Another new book attracts attention: Megashift. Author James Rutz presents data to claim that the fastest-growing religion on earth is… Christianity. Counterintuitive to some of us. We sense that Christianity is declining in America and Europe. It is. We are aware that Christians are being persecuted with increasing ferocity in other parts of the world. They are. (This is partly a reaction to Christianity’s growth; and it partly inspires Christianity’s spread) We observe that “mainstream” denominations are shrinking. They are. (The rising tide of believers is mostly independent, Bible-believing, First-Century types; “New Apostolics” is Rutz’s label.)

I believe I have accurately summarized that book’s documentation. These two books illustrate the irony, or at least the evolution, of Christianity today. Many people from predominantly Muslim and Buddhist and Hindu and animist lands, and even from demonic traditions… are now on-fire Christians. These new believers send more missionaries, year after year, to the “Christian West” because of perceived spiritual needs! And traditional white-bread, culturally elite, and intellectually pretentious “Christ-followers” and “communitarians” and “emergents” (they can’t seem to say “Christian” for some reason)… no longer “get it.”

“It” is the way of the cross, the plan of salvation. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Our self-inflicted unrighteousness, which denies us entry to the presence of a holy God, has a provision. We cannot earn it, but Christ offered it: believe in Him and accept His loving assumption of our sins and guilt; and we will be reconciled to God.

Is that hard? It depends upon our response. Are there details about it that we don’t understand? Of course; we are not God. Do we deserve this crazy, illogical, outrageous, unspeakable “pass” against a lifetime of spiritual shortcomings and rebellion?

Of course not. That’s called Love.

That is the love that wins. By God’s grace, He provided a way. If there is no need for repentance, the Bible lies; no element of forgiveness, then Jesus suffered foolishly; no salvation decision, the cross is ridiculed. If mankind will go to Heaven en masse just because we all have pulses, the Easter story is a joke. There would be no reason ever again to sing Amazing Grace.

I will advance a theory of my own, and I hope I properly am consistent with scripture: Jesus was a man who suffered like no other; but as God incarnate, He had the ability to focus His thoughts as He was on the cross. And with all the torments and betrayals, all the billions of people who did live and will live in history, when He was on the cross, I was on His mind. And so were you.

When He looked down, He looked – through eyes encrusted with blood, but also through the years and through many generations in many places – into the individual faces of you and me.

Why in world (literally) would the Son of God endure all this, and offer all this? So that we might accept – believe, confess, and be transformed. Salvation is free, but not cheap, as many have said. Neither should it intentionally be cheapened, not in this Lenten season, or ever.

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Click: You Were On His Mind

3-28-11

Let us think more about Lent. The 40 days are here to to prepare people — to prepare ourselves — for the meaning wrapped up in the “Easter Story.” In fact we should think on those things all year, and we do, but Lenten observances provide spiritual power-boosts.

The ancient contemplation of the Stations of the Cross, even reenacting Jesus’ walk, is something I have done, and enriches one’s faith. Deeply.

But before Christ’s betrayal and arrest… He was still Jesus, the Son of Man who walked amongst us. What I mean is this: if it is efficacious to contemplate the Cross and Resurrection outside of Lent’s parameters, so is it helpful to our belief if we remember the everyday ministry of Jesus, even during Lent.

For instance, Jesus walked on water, on the Sea of Galilee. This is recorded in Scripture, and we should know therefore that God intends a message for us. At the very least, this is one of the miracles that Jesus performed to confirm His divinity — for the sake of His disciples, and of unbelievers in the area, and for the sake of us today.

Alert: I do not pretend to any learned theology here. This is just spiritual speculation. But, to me, miracles like healing and raising from the dead and feeding multitudes were for the immediate benefit of those who were touched, as well providing as larger lessons. Miracles like walking on water and calming troubled seas might be more in the category of “Who say you that I am? Here’s a hint…”

If so, take that a step further. How often is Peter the disciple called out to trust Jesus, to act on the dare of faith? And how often does Peter — impetuous, presumptuous, boastful Peter — fail in the moment? He sinks into the water; he denies knowing Jesus at crunch time. (And how many of us identify more with Peter than with other disciples…? I do.)

Jesus did tell the disciples that many more, even “greater,” miracles would they do, that the Holy Ghost would come to be Christ-in-us. Now, I have seen miracles, I have witnessed healings, I know that Jesus’ words are true. Yet we cannot fail to confront the fact that when Peter looked down and sank into the water, Jesus did not turn to any of the other disciples and say, “Now, ye of greater faith…” after which they all strolled on the surface of the Sea. And we don’t see it today; I haven’t.

Insecure Christians are afraid that people will conclude that Jesus’ promises might not be true. But I believe the real lesson of such miracle-stories, up through the Lenten season to the greatest miracle of all, is not that Jesus was only teasing and therefore not God, but that… people are human. And all that this fact implies.

Peter sank because he looked down, when he should have kept his eyes upon Jesus. And I just have the feeling that if we could perform many of the miracles that Jesus did, we all would start trusting in ourselves, and stop looking at the Christ. I hate to admit it, but I know that I would.

When Christ lives in us, we are empowered to look to Him more than to ourselves… and that is the essence of the spiritual battle. We are better equipped, ironically, in order to be less self-reliant.

Less of us, more of Him. Walking on water… we can view it as one of the unique spiritual paths Jesus took, in effect, on the way to Jerusalem to give His life for us. Was Jesus holding out a spiritual means of taking a shortcut in the Galilean neighborhood? Hardly; of course not. Was He providing an astounding illustration that He is God, so we might more easily trust Him without any reservation in our hearts?

If that reaches our souls, during Lent or any time — if we poor sinners can understand and act on that — truly, that would be a miracle right there.

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Click: On the Sea of Galilee

This Gospel song was written by the Carter Family and is performed simply and compellingly by Emmylou Harris and the amazing harmonies of the young Peasall Sisters. The images — Jesus walking on water; Jesus reaching out to you and me; the Sea of Galilee — are from the excellent Beanscot Channel on YouTube.

3-21-11

“Giving something up for Lent” has a sacred origin, of course; and an ancient origin. Sacrifice and self-denial are old Christian traditions, as believers wanted to discipline themselves to identify with Christ’s suffering.

As we noted last week, one reason that God ordained the manner of Jesus’s death – surrender, betrayal, suffering – was to show mankind that the Deity understands the human condition. Holy irony, beautiful synergy. Old observances of the church have changed through the years; for instance, baptisms once were performed only on Easter Sunday. During the Reformation, when there was a desire to push back on sacred rites that had become empty rituals, the long and hard fasts during Lent were changed: individuals made private determinations to sacrifice something precious in order to thank, honor, and “imitate” Christ, for the sake of our souls.

Eventually that became a ritual, or a joke, or a scheme to diet or save lunch money. Not with everyone, of course, but with many people.

This idea is not new with me, but since “giving something up for Lent” is not something from the lips of Jesus, but man-made, no matter how well-intentioned… could we not also thank God, honor Christ, and, yes, “imitate” Him, if we took up something for Lent, instead of laying something aside? That is, something for Him, not for us.

Jesus took up the cross! He allowed Himself to be lifted up in painful crucifixion! He willingly added burdens to Himself in the period before Easter.

Surely we can do the same, and for motives just as pure and God-honoring. Not to gain gold stars, or make a list of good works, or… turn this concept into an empty ritual. But we can all think of adding to our moral to-do list, not temporarily erasing from it, at least for this Lenten season (and beyond!)

The world is hurting… look everywhere. Charities are starving… of staff, not just money. Your neighbor needs a ride… and maybe a word from God. That broken relationship you have somewhere… needs reconciliation. Someone who wronged you… needs forgiveness. We all need forgiveness… so there is a model for us. We received it from the Cross.

“The Old Rugged Cross, so despised by the world, its shame and disgrace we gladly bear…”
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Click: The Old Rugged Cross

The site of this performance is the neighborhood of Golgotha and the Tomb in Jerusalem. The Gaither Homecoming Friends gathered to modestly sing this dear old hymn. Great scenes, and great meaning, in this short music video…

3-14-11

The events of recent days should persuade even the most cynical and least alarmist among us that we are in fact living in a “page-turning,” if not “chapter-ending,” moment of world history. Endemic economic troubles, from budget crises to virtual national bankruptcies; street protests resulting in governments’ instability and regime changes across the world; devastating earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan, with incalculable tolls in terms of life, infrastructure, and health, there and elsewhere… we are indeed on the cusp of a new world.

The old order changeth, yielding place to the new;
And God fulfills Himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.

Many of the changes we see, such as the overthrow of dictatorships, are harbingers of hope. But many other changes clearly suggest the contrary – the unleashing of anti-Christian persecution; long-term economic downturns; serious challenges to health and recovery in Japan. Human beings often hope for change, but when it brings insecurity and misery we are constrained from embracing the New without praying for wisdom, and discerning God’s hand.

We have entered the season of Lent. Is there a temptation to avoid looking inward and commemorate an event 2000 years old, when we feel the need to watch and wait upon events that, instead, are exploding in our midst?

The opposite should be our reaction. And the coming observance of Easter is splendid timing.

As with the woman who anointed Jesus with precious oils, disasters and troubles of the world we will always have with us. But we serve God’s purposes when we honor Him by drawing closer in communion, when we enter into His suffering that He endured to identify with our suffering (o sweet mystery), when we contemplate the Passion of His sacrifice, death, and resurrection. We will make the world a better place by achieving these things ourselves… and sharing them with the world.

It is a custom to “give something up” for Lent. I am going to suggest to you something different from chocolate and sitcoms. Give up two hours of your life this week, in advance of the Easter season. Set aside the time, shut out possible distractions, and prepare for an exposition of Christ’s suffering and death that will touch your soul. You will do your understanding of Christ’s sacrifice and your devotion to the Cross a favor to watch the video you can click to, below.

Johann Sebastian Bach’s setting of the “Passion” story (Jesus’s intense emotions and sacrificial suffering) is one of the great works, not only of church music or the Baroque period, but of human creativity. Based on Matthew chapters 27 and 28, the St Matthew Passion was in the form of a once-common performance vehicle, the “musical passion.” Christian composers, as early as the eighth century, but mainly in the 16th-18th centuries, wrote Passions to be different from other church music. Passions used large ensembles, sometimes two choirs, orchestras, and organs. They were dramatic presentations, with “narrators” and singers. Sometimes they were performed outside churches, and sometimes in costumes and with dramatic action.

In Bach’s version, he declined costumes but achieved great drama. In the version you can download below you will see a spare performance stage, singers in simple suits or dresses. There are no props; it is not in a cathedral. But you will notice great meaning in the changing placement of the singers; the colors that light the performance stage; and the lighted Cross that floats above the performers – changing colors, morphing from dark to light to dark. This video – made in 1971, and conducted by the legendary Bach interpreter Karl Richter – is an immense work of art in itself.

You will be grateful that the text, translated to English, is on the screen. When subtitles do not appear, it is because singers are repeating phrases. This impactful video allows you to appreciate the myriad of subtleties Bach used to emphasize the story of the Passion, behind the lyrics and tunes. Take note of the highlighting of meaningful words, by orchestral emphasis. Notice that solo voices have keyboard accompaniment; Jesus has keyboard and strings… except for His stark, solo cry “Why hast Thou forsaken me?” Notice the music (instrumentation and style of play) reflecting singers’ hope, sorrow, or desperation. Notice the musical (and the camera’s) emphasis on words like “Barabbas!” and “kill Him!” and “crucify!” Notice Bach’s use of musical devices – pulsating rhythms for tension, short bursts by the flutes to suggest tears, upward modulation when hope is displayed. Note the repetition of musical themes (popular church tunes) by the choruses to unify the narrative themes. This is a monumental work of art.

The St Matthew Passion was considered by Bach to be his most significant work. It was first performed in Leipzig at the St-Thomas Church in 1727, and many Holy Weeks thereafter; he frequently revised it. His autograph score shows loving attention, written in red or brown inks according to the biblical and dramatic libretto sources, and employing calligraphy in careful Gothic or Latin letters. He preserved it as an heirloom.

As Baroque music and Bach’s genius temporarily was out of fashion after his death in 1750, the Passion was never performed again until 102 years after its debut. Felix Mendelssohn had discovered it, conducted a condensed version in Berlin… and the Bach Revival, which has never stopped since, commenced. Mendelssohn, a Jew converted to Christianity, found his Lutheran faith much inspired by Bach’s work.

Other famous Passions of our time include the play in Oberammergau, a small Bavarian town of two thousand inhabitants, half of whom stage and act in the seven-hour re-creation of Holy Week events. The play has been produced every 10 years since 1634 when the town, threatened by the bubonic plague, collectively prayed for mercy and vowed to share with the world this portion of the gospel story if they were spared. In Drumheller, Alberta, Canada, every July the Canadian Badlands Passion Play is presented in a thirty-acre canyon bowl that forms a natural amphitheater. And of course many people watched the recent movie The Passion of the Christ.

None can be more powerful than Bach’s version. If you are unfamiliar with, or dislike, “classical music,” this will not kill you. If the hairstyles or once-cool eyeglasses of 1971’s performers look squirrely, just imagine how we would look to them; or how a magical capture of the actual 1727 debut would look to us. Or how the original suffering and death of Jesus, nearly 2000 years ago, would have seemed if we were there…

… ah! That is the art of J S Bach. This performance of the “Passion of Jesus Christ as recorded by St Matthew,” does bring us back to the amazing, profound, and significant events of our Savior’s willing sacrifice for us. It is real.

A better understanding of what He did for our sake will make us better stewards to minister to the world – especially in these horrible times – for His sake.

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Click: The St Matthew Passion — Johann Sebastian Bach

This will be a complete performance, in many segments of various lengths; a total of about two hours. Each segment will automatically move to the next. If you desire a full-screen (and one does not automattically pop up), click only this icon, once, at the beginning: the “joint arrows” that point right and down; that, when your cursor hovers over it, is called EXPAND. Click that for a full screen of the video. It is from the amazing YouTube channel of SoliDeoGloria.

The conductor and musical director of Munich Bach ensembles, as noted, is the great Karl Richter. (The members of the instrumental and vocal ensembles are more numerous than in Bach’s more intimate times. The accessible profundity is akin to Bach’s, however, without doubt) Soloists are Peter Schreier as narrator; Walter Berry, bass; Julia Hanari, contralto; and Helen Donath, soprano. You will notice, of course, that this a Lenten subject; it will bring you right through the Crucifiction.

The quotation above is by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “The Passing of King Arthur” from Idylls of the King.

2-28-11

“Caring” is a buzzword that has become – as most buzzwords do – overused, oversold… and underappreciated, to the point of emptiness. In our society, Caring is a word that covers a multitude of sins: bureaucratic assembly-lines; government overreach; the tyranny of a minority. All in the name of Caring.

There is nothing wrong, of course, with caring. Quite the opposite. But it is a word that must be coupled with something, or else it is a disembodied emotional phantom. Abstract.

It has entered the realm of “Politalk.” A few years ago, some politicians received memos suggesting they insert the words “Caring” and “Children” every so often in speeches. We listeners were supposed to start wagging our tails like Dr Pavolv’s dogs at the words. Enough of us did. “Do anything to me, but just tell me you care.”

The inherent problems are more than emptiness of meaning. The Caring meme charts a steady course from compassion to compulsion to coercion. Next, the Compassion Police come knocking at the doors of our conscience, serving writs of Guilt.

Lest I sound like Scrooge, think of what the vulgarization of Caring has come to mean in the 21st century. In the name of Caring and Compassion, we have allowed governments to co-opt the role of individuals, and individuals’ consciences. The point of the parable of the Good Samaritan was that an individual was moved, and acted alone – in fact, out of character and social expectations. Jesus Himself healed, and empowered His followers to heal… notice that He never empowered or commissioned the government of His day. In fact it was “render unto Caesar,” not “demand from Caesar…”

Through history, the great agencies of Caring, after individuals and family, were more than governments. The authorities in ancient Greece and Rome did build public baths. But it was the church, in a thousand ways, that delivered charity and succor. Also, it was guilds and businesses. The Fuggers, bankers and merchants of Augsburg in the Middle Ages, established almshouses for the poor. In 1858, individual donors enabled a doctor to open baths and health facilities for the poor in County Cork, Ireland. By 1860, around the engine works of the Great Western Railway in New Swindon, outside London, the directors built worker’s cottages, libraries, and hospitals; they provided health care and free medicine.

The point of this history lesson is that in recent years, governments have co-opted care-giving functions from individuals and associations. To cite “efficiency” is to worship a false god, because in the process, individuals are being robbed of the option to emotionally notice; denied the challenge to intellectually consider; discouraged from the initiative to assist. In fact, when governments collect taxes in order to be the agents of Care, people eventually will feel less obliged to do charitable work themselves.

St Augustine (in his Confessions) speculated that the meaning behind the reminder “the poor you will always have with you” is that God desires to set before us circumstances to which we will be inspired to act charitably. Our broken hearts touch His heart.

Through it all (or despite it all), Americans still contribute more money and more missionaries and social workers than do most other countries to most world needs. But the relentless socialization of charity has brought us to a realization – confirmed as we watch the nightly news these very days – that regimes that ruled in the name of managing peoples’ fates, are having their true natures revealed: corruption, theft, oppression.

We give our lives over to institutions that care… but they crumble. Leaders who care… but they get turned out. Officials who care… but they play the system against us. Politicians who care… but they lie. Programs that care… but they run out of resources. Meanwhile, all the time, Jesus has been standing at the door, knocking. When Jesus cares for us, it is not because He has compassion, but because He is the essence of compassion.

And when He cares about us, and cares for us, something happens. He offers healing, provision, and the peace that passes understanding. Those things are not in the fine-print of anything the world’s “compassion” can deliver.

We should not suspect the motives of the compassionate in our midst; not at all. But we always need to remember that without the godly component, the world might care about, but truly cannot care for, its people.

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Does Jesus Care?

A powerful, simple song was written a hundred years ago around this question – and this answer: Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you (I Peter 5:7). It is sung here a capella by the Isaacs – brother and sisters Ben, Becky, and Sonya. From the excellent beanscot Channel on YouTube. It will stay in your heart all week!

Click: Does Jesus Care?

2-7-11

This weekend is the centennial of Ronald Reagan’s birth, and he has been, rightly, in the news. We surely need a dose of the Gipper’s optimism, faith, and policies these days. Even the current occupant of the White house thinks so, at the least in part. He read an autobiography of Reagan over the Christmas holidays, and publicly has been respectful to his memory.

Commentators have called the State of the Union speech Obama’s “Reagan moment,” for some reason. In a coincidence of timing, the 25th anniversary of the Challenger disaster also recently was observed; and President Reagan’s speech to the nation – “they touched the face of God” – was replayed to the benefit of us all. Lumps in the throat do not have expiration-dates.

That politicians since Reagan have cast themselves in his image, or encouraged others to do so, seems almost sacrilegious; and the Challenger speech is one affirmation of that. The recent presidential speech, a putative Balm in Tucson, is said to have been Reaganesque. The admonition allegedly inspiring a nation – “All of us… should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children’s expectations” – is one from which, I suspect, Mr Reagan would have dissented. I surely do.

I have nothing against children. I have been father to three, and recall being one myself. Some of my best friends are children. Children are wonderful and precious, gifts from God, the Bible tells us. But they are… children.

Their innocence is being stolen in a thousand ways these days, by this society (another topic for another time, but I believe this to be true, and a cultural crime). Now we’re supposed to burden them with drafting a list of expectations their parents and elders should live up to? How do kids wish we would act, and would have them to act? What would those dreams be?

If most children were honest, their lists would shock parents, elders, and teachers – at least those who forget what they were like as kids themselves:

* Abolish rules about homework and bedtime;
* Get over our hang-ups about hair, dress, hygiene, and keeping a neat room;
* Promise not to ask about e-mails, phone calls, certain friends, or that music. Et cetera.

I will jump from this new standard – that we should live up to our children’s expectations – and from speculation about what another president would not have said… to what the Bible does say, in disagreement: Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it (Proverbs 22:6).

That is not some sacred fortune-cookie saying; it is more, even, than a prediction. It is a command – TRAIN UP children. For society to operate on a contrary standard (and, of course, everything it represents, and everything that flows from such beliefs) might, some day, lead to a country that is without any standards; not just a culture that strives to “live up to children’s expectations.”

The best wish for our children is that they desire to live up to our expectations of them… and that everyone’s aspiration be to meet God’s expectations.

The beautiful irony of the Christian life is that children don’t have to follow their inclinations or rebellion, and adults don’t have to impose authority or cram some set of rules. We find victory in surrender. All Jesus wants us to do – His expectation – is to lean on His Everlasting Arms.

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The great gospel song of that title is here plaintively sung by Iris DeMent. Long an outstanding singer/songwriter, Iris’s version of this classic hymn closes out the hit movie True Grit; and is receiving deserved praise. The artwork in this video (a beautiful slideshow production of the excellent Beanscot Channel on YouTube) shows a variety of children, doing what Jesus expects of them, and all of us, leaning back in His loving arms.

Click: Leaning On the Everlasting Arms

The nation – check that: the world – has come through a tough year. Economics; conflicts; persecution including increasing prejudice in the US and deadly attacks on Christians abroad; moral and social decay… well, we survived, but it has been a rough track.

And whether we do something to make the next year better, for ourselves, our nation, and our world, depends, as always, on what we do. The solutions again still spread before us: rededication to God’s Word; working for revival in our nation; a defense and loving propagation of the Gospel to the world.

Can we do it alone? Yes, if we have to. But we don’t have to! Just like New Year’s Eve parties – whether you juggle many invitations, or have received none – we can are assured of being with our Best Friend.

“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” has always been one of my favorite hymns. It speaks not only of profound comfort and insurance against loneliness, but its worlds reminds us what our Friend Jesus OFFERS – taking burdens, being faithful, hearing our prayers, offering strength when we are weak.

Doc Watson, the iconic singer and guitar player, was born in North Carolina almost 90 years ago. He was blinded by an infection when a year old. He got caught up (my characterization) in the folk-song movement, and appeared in coffee houses and folk-music festivals. His son Merle, also a talented guitar player, tragically was killed in a tractor accident some years ago, and Doc considered giving up music. He had a vision, however – remember, he is blind – encouraging him to perform for a purpose. Doc hewed closer to his Carolina roots, including the faith of his people.

Near the end of a concert earlier this year, reported Betty Dotson-Lewis in the Daily Yonder, “Doc told the audience that he wanted to give testimony and hoped that no one would mind. He said that he was a born-again Christian. He said he had been baptized when he was 14 years old but that it was the wrong kind of religion. He had listened to the wrong preaching and was baptized out of fear. He told us that four years ago he was listening to the song Doctor Jesus sung by Randy Travis, and when the chorus came around the third time –

Doctor Jesus, Will you help me?


Make me better, make me whole.

Doctor Jesus, Lord, I need you


To mend my heart, and save my soul.

– Doc Watson said that he prayed the prayer and became a born-again Christian.” Note, at the end of this song, the wrenching emotion that overtakes the grateful child of God. Blind eyes “see,” and cry, with conviction.

In his mid-80s, Doc Watson discovered that you can know ABOUT something, or some One, but not KNOW. A lot of us, over the past year, have known about the offerings of a loving God, and solutions for our problems, but have not always taken them up unto ourselves.

Well, we have a Friend with us who will help us carry on; will lift burdens that impede us; and will share our sorrows, should they come. Just knowing this can make the coming year very different for a lot of people.

What a way to end the year and begin a new one! What a friend!

Click: What a Friend We Have in Jesus

A Music Ministry Special

Christmas week. Even the most spiritual people among us – plausibly, the MOST spiritual among us – easily can be caught up in the THINGS of this week. Touching bases, checking lists, doing this and that, going here and there… all of which is legitimate. All of which we routinely regret, to an extent. All of which we resolve, nest year, to balance with quiet time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas.

At your service, folks. Here is a 2010-style method of slowing your pace, soothing your soul, and communing quietly with, maybe, your family; with God… and with Johann Sebastian Bach.

At the end of this message is a link to a performance of Bach’s immortal CHRISTMAS ORATORIO. We are used to hearing Handel’s “Messiah,” at least several famous portions. No less beautiful, and powerful, and spiritual, is Bach’s “Christmas Oratorio.”

An oratorio is best explained as a religious opera without a stage. Drama based on biblical stories is presented employing overtures and instrumental movements, solos and choruses, and often a narrator – an orator, providing one theory of its name – in the form of a singing narrator who stands apart from the “action.” Oratorios sometimes were performed outside the settings of churches. The most famous composer of Baroque oratorios is Händel, who wrote one German, two Italian, and seventeen English-language oratorios.

The opening of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, Jauchzet, Frohlocket!, with timpani drums tuned to different notes, is among the grandest music Bach wrote. And the close of part two, Wir Singen Dir In Deinem Heer, seamlessly combining two previous beautiful melodies, is magical. The Sinfonia, a purely instrumental movement, is sublime. Does it advance the “action”? – No, except to set the mood of the peaceful night in Bethlehem, where the shepherds watched over their flocks.

May I invite the uninitiated to this glorious piece, or to Baroque music in general: Let Bach, and the biblical text, carry you on a spiritual trip. The Bible is quoted; the chorus and soloists take the part of Christmas-week players; and the ancient, beautiful music will touch your soul. Give this time… and it will be a special part of your Christmas.

In this video, Sir John Eliot Gardiner conducts the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists; the setting is the historic Herderkirche in Weimar, Germany, a city where Bach once lived and worked. The Christmas Oratorio originally was performed on six different days, from Christmas to Epiphany. Technically it is six cantatas, a form within the liturgy of which Bach was master.

The small choir… the original ancient instruments… the soloist in the box… the setting of the historic church… bring you close to the music as Bach would have conducted it himself. The first such time was Christmas of 1734.

I am linking you to full-screen downloads of this masterpiece (I daresay many of you will rush to find the DVD version of this to watch on a bigger screen next year!) Of several good versions available on the web, this is the only one with English subtitles; when they don’t appear, it is because singers are repeating passages. ALSO: this is not just “sit back and close your eyes.” Every once in a while a download will end, and a screen will appear with freeze-frame options. Click the largest box, upper right, labeled “Up Next,” or the logically numbered screens in the strip below.  (This will give you a chance to take a break if needed – this is more than two hours long, like “Messiah,” so plan some time! – or, you will see, you will want to repeat a passage whose musical beauty and spiritual power has impressed you!

Take time. Make time. Have a merry, and meaningful, and musical, Christmas!

Click this link: Christmas Oratorio — J S Bach

We tend not to think about all the aspects of Jesus’s life. We think about His ministry, His teaching and parables, His prayers, often enough: or so we should.

But when we think of His life, sometimes we are prejudiced by Sunday-school pamphlets, and greeting cards, and the holiday industries, to compartmentalize the events in His life – to view them as the settings and backgrounds for the really important stuff.

But it is not only surprising, but important to our faith, to think about all the aspects of Jesus’s life. It is very significant, for instance, that He came into the world pretty much as He left it: despised and disregarded; acknowledged for who He was by hardly anyone; a mere handful of people with Him at each event (but His mother, always there); in a borrowed stable at His birth, in a borrowed tomb at His death.

To think about these aspects confronts us with many things. One, at the Christmas season, is this: the simultaneous humility and grandeur of the incarnate God. For there was no “arc” to Jesus’s life, no “career” in the modern sense. He didn’t become flesh and dwell among us to incorporate a ministry, to establish a denomination, to build a business – even a religious, spiritual, faith-based organization as we call things today.

He came to save humanity from its sins, to offer the way to salvation, to redeem creation as the One True Way. Therefore His birth is very similar to His death… and it should cause us to think not just about what He did, but who He was.

Isaiah had prophesied: “…unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Notice that the “shalls” refer to the triumphant Jesus – still prophetic? – the “is” word referring to a child, to a son. Since Isaiah lived hundreds of years before Jesus, these logically could have been “shalls” too.

That aspect is for us to think about today. No less important than the words of Jesus or His coming reign… is the PERSON of Jesus. We all have had children, or have been children! Of course God wanted us to identify with His incarnate Self in the most powerful – and the most tender – way He could. A baby. A son.

He SHALL be called mighty; He SHALL be our counselor. But right now think of Him as a baby.

Hold Him in your arms. Love Him as He loves you.

Beautiful imagery accompanies a tender new song called “For Unto Us a Child is Born.”

Click:  For Unto Us a Child Is Born

Rick Marschall was on the editorial staff of the “1599 Geneva Bible Restoration Project” (Tolle Lege Press, 2007)

The Christmas story has become really sanitized.

I mean literally. How many depictions do we see, how often do we think, of the Christ Child in the manger, surrounded by shining angels, kindly shepherds, pretty sheep… and bugs and worms, rotted bits of feed and dung, dirt and moldy straw?

The manger was likely in a rough, dark, musty cave, not in an open-air lean-to that the greeting cards portray.

We can also wonder whether Joseph and Mary were told “no room in the inn!” not only because the city was crowded… but perhaps because innkeepers innkeepers greeted the newlyweds and asked when they were married, and reckoned she had been with child…

Homeless… a mother who was single when she conceived… rejected… forced to the humblest place in the city to be born, farm animals as attendants: the Bible accurately called it a lowly birth.

What has NOT been scrubbed clean from the story is that the Bible called it a lowly birth hundreds of years before it happened, in every particular – these details and many more. Truly this was the Son of God.

But we should not turn to the next pretty greeting card this Christmas season. Linger in that stable, and you will see more. You will see children today born in similar circumstances. Parents in distress. No place to live. Little to eat. Rejected and despised.

When God chose to humble Himself and become flesh, He emptied Himself of His royal nature, and became… middle class? A suburbanite fretting over student loans? Someone managing a household budget and hobbies? OK, those might not be profiles of average Bethlehemites of that time… but they are not profiles of millions of babies born around the world today, either.

God identified with the most basic level of humanity. He meets us at our humblest places, conditions, and realities.

When we think of this unsanitary and unsanitized picture of the Nativity, does it change our attitude toward Jesus, the Incarnate Lord, who came to live with us?

Does it change our attitude toward homeless, rejected, vulnerable, hungry children being born every day?

Does it change our attitude toward our own hearts?

Click: No Place To Lay His Head

It came upon a midnight clear… that is: the moment Thanksgiving Day ended, the Christmas Season formally began. That’s when I was a kid. Now the Christmas decorations in stores are festooned after Halloween, sometimes before that. Pretty soon, Santa Claus will be hunting for Easter eggs and marching in Fourth of July parades.

Nearly everyone decries the “commercialization of Christmas,” and so they should. But in American society it seems like the observance of Christmas itself might disappear before the culture of consumerism does. However, the commercial aspects of the holiday ultimately will harm the celebration of Christ’s birth as much as have the adoption of the pagan-originated date and the traditions of evergreen trees. Not much, unless we let it happen.

About which we say, Hallelujah!

Around us we see another seasonal tradition beginning, and this one we can embrace. In malls and shopping plazas, vocal ensembles and choral societies have been gathering, and, despite the fact that ‘tis the season to be shopping, they break out in the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. The mighty music – and the mightier words – draws the attention of everybody within earshot.

In Philadelphia, the atrium of Macy’s Department Store is home to the largest pipe organ in the United States. Recently, 650 choristers mingled with shoppers until the moment to sing this wonderful music arrived, and the blast-furnace organ notes combined with thousands of voices (for shoppers joined in) – and it was glory indeed.

This has happened elsewhere too. Local organizers can claim that these are field-trips of singing clubs, or activities of an opera society; or publicity events; or class projects; maybe even churches’ outreach. (You will see in this video clip, signs proclaiming the performance a “random act of culture” – a rather secular camouflage.) Yet when all is said and done – or seen and sung – what has happened is the proclamation of the prophecy and birth of mankind’s Savior; of the Incarnation; of the promised reign of the Christ.

To mingle this news, and Handel’s anointed music, with busy shoppers and the preoccupations of a “holiday” season, is brilliant… redeeming the Message, and restoring its place in the midst of our lives, even for a moment; forever, and ever; Hallelujah!

Click:   Hallelujah!

Thanks to Marlene Bagnull of the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference for forwarding the clip linked above ( http://tinyurl.com/26hfmt8 ) from Philly; and to Diane Obbema for sending the clip of another Flash Mob singing the Hallelujah Chorus in a food court ( http://tinyurl.com/25xpqy8 ). There have been other such outbreaks around the country… maybe next year we will all participate in our own communities!

This week, the whole world watched the rescue of the miners in Chile, and the whole world was inspired — it could not be otherwise.

I watched through the night; many of us did. Being an old guy, a portion of my amazement was the technology improvised for their rescue, but more, the fact the cameras could broadcast from half a mile under rock; and then, I could watch it in real time 6000 miles away. (Frankly, I was amazed that I could make my TV-remote work that evening, but that’s me)

We have heard a lot about the miners, and will hear a lot more as interviews, books, and movies will surely follow. But I share with you a few random impressions I had:

* 33 miners, 69 days… I am not into Bible codes and biblical numerology, but occasionally God DOES leave spiritual reminders in worldly events (three is the Biblical sign of godly perfection — the Trinity; three days before the Resurrection; etc) to remind us of His workings. That said…

* The miners were resourceful, strong, and organized… but also, it seems almost a man, spiritual. Reportedly half were Catholic and half evangelical or Pentecostal. The Vatican sent missals and Rosaries down the first shaft, when opened; and a Baptist church sent Bibles and hymn books. (Evangelicalism is sweeping the continent. There are more Pentecostals than Catholics, for instance, in neighboring Brazil.) There were frequent services and constant prayers underground.

* Through the night President Sebastian Pinera was seen praying quietly on a bench, not showing off but with head bowed, crossing himself afterward. The first rescuer who descended in the capsule said a prayer and crossed himself before the door was closed.

* Many miners used their first words above ground to thank God. Some fells to their knees immediately — were they collapsing? No, they were in prayer; some held their little Bibles high.

* Several miners donned T-shirts when they were unhooked from the capsule. Family members, too, had been wearing them. On the front they said, “Gracias Senor” — Thank you, Lord. And on the backs was a Bible verse: “To Him be the glory and honor. Because in His hands are the depths of the earth; and the heights of the mountains are His” (Psalm 95:4)

* At least one miner received Christ during the ordeal, and — regarding that number “3” — one miner said that there were really 34 in the mine, because he felt that Jesus was always with them.

* Finally, I remember that one miner said something along these lines: “We faced God down there… and we faced the devil. God won. We reached out and held His hand.”

Holding to God’s unchanging hand… do you know the simple but powerful song with that title? It seems almost written FOR this event we witnessed! Franklin L Eiland, composer of many great hymns, wrote this about 100 years ago (He was grandfather of Cindy Walker, the first female songwriters elected to the Country Music Hall of Fame).

This version is sung by Lindell Cooley, who was Worship Leader at the Brownsville Revival in Pensecola when I went there a couple times a dozen years ago. Today he is pastor of Grace Church in Nashville. Powerful performance, and relevant to the miracles of faith we just witnessed.

Click:  Hold to God’s Unchanging Hand

Have a great week holdin’ on…

Good Morning! Good Morning? Some folks these days would not jump to characterize this day, or this week, or “these times,” as “good.” Just about everybody has been affected by the awful economy or the government’s responses that seemingly work to make Bad things Worse.

Several friends have declared bankruptcy; another friend desperately is finding no buyers for her house; my daughter sold hers after three years of lowering the price, drip by drip. The government tells us that the recession ended in June, and I am reminded of a high school teacher who once told me, “statistics don’t lie… but statisticians do.”

Houses underwater — fiscally or literally — or jobs or investments or retirement accounts: things look bleak, and the horizon seems bleaker. God tells us to keep our eyes on things to come; we do count our many blessing, and we try to keep things in perspective. We do so — Christians must!

There was a time about 30 years ago I was in despair, experiencing these types of crises. I knew the Bible verse, “Be anxious for nothing…” but I was anxious about EVERYTHING.

And then God did something interesting. Another verse I knew was Jesus’s reassurance that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father’s knowledge; and that we are more precious than sparrows in His sight. But surely I was not feeling it… not really knowing it.

One day in my deepest distress, my morning devotional reading was based on that passage. Sparrows. Later that day, a preacher on Christian radio (background noise till that moment) addressed that parable. Sparrows. That evening, on the car radio, a station played the gospel song, “His Eye Is On the Sparrow.”

OK, the first point is that I got the point. And it encouraged me mightily. But the other point has never left me: God doesn’t just speak to us through His word — sometimes He repeats His message in various ways, over and over, even shouting to us, until we get it!

Oh, Lord, open our ears!

Here is a beautiful version of that comforting old hymn, sung by the wonderful singer of spirituals, Ethel Waters, from am old black-and-white movie. She asks, “Why should I be discouraged…?”

“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows!” Matt. 10: 29-31

Click:  His Eye Is On the Sparrow

Who is the person closest to you in life? Quick!

Sort of a trick question, because we should answer “Jesus,” but many of us think of family, spouses, friends; and great relationships should indeed spring to mind.

But Jesus is the answer to that question… even if people don’t feel like putting Him first on the list. Because He is always there, close to us. Closer than a shadow.

George Beverly Shea once told me a story that stuck with me (I can’t claim credit for such a great story with its deeper lesson!). An old farmer was driving his wife to town in their car. The wife looked across to her husband behind the wheel and said, “You know, when we were courting, we used to sit so close together in the front seat!” He looked over at her, and at the space between them, and asked, “Who moved?”

Of course the meaning is that sometimes we feel not as close to God as we used to. Sometimes the zeal of our young faith subsides; sometimes a crisis in our lives affects the intimacy we once had with God; sometimes doubts make God seem distant to us.

… but our cooling faith, our crises, our doubts do not place God at a distance. He will never leave us nor forsake us. Only we can make ourselves feel distant from Him.

So don’t “move” away from God, and then blame it on Him. Neither need we toss Him the wheel of the car, jump in His lap, or check off boxes on a list. Just invite Him: Abide With Me.

The simple words of this simple hymn are basically all He asks of us. Trust and rely on Jesus, feel His presence. And know what the invitation means: Abide means to dwell (the word is related to “abode”), to stay, to continue, to wait patiently, to accept, to endure, to support, to live… within you.

Who moves apart? Never the Lord!

Here is a moving performance of that simple and mighty hymn by one of the world’s most beautiful voices, Hayley Westenra of New Zealand. If you can listen with earphones, treat yourself.

Click:  Abide With Me

This week we have guest stars delivering our message… in fact, billions and billions of them.

I invite you to visit the site and photo gallery of the Hubble Space Telescope —  http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/  Prepare to be amazed, if you have never seen these color photos before… in fact, one is amazed at the thousandth time they are viewed! We are told that many of the “distant stars” we see shining are in reality whole galaxies — that is, shining collections, themselves, of millions of stars and planets.

Amazing Space, how sweet the sights…

Scroll through the photos and let them speak to you about God’s awesome power, His omnipresence. I will tell you one thought that I have:

God Almighty took six days to create the awesome, endless, perfect universe.

However, after lo these many decades… He’s still working on me.

That’s not a wisecrack: that’s good theology. We need to remind ourselves of the gift of free will, and the consciousness of our own rebellion and sinfulness before a perfect and just God. To see pictures like this, and realize our part in God’s creation, is humbling.

And the other thought I have is to be grateful to the depths of my soul for His faithfulness. After all these decades.

…All I have needed Thy hand hath provided; great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!
Summer and winter and springtime and harvest; sun, moon and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness to Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

Click a touching version of the great hymn these words are from:

Great Is They Faithfulness

I once heard a prominent preacher in the “emergent church” trash one of my favorite old gospel songs, “I’ll Fly Away.”

“If I could, I would rip that song out of every hymn-book,” he said. He considered it irresponsible and against Christ’s teachings to want to leave this world, when there is so much to do here. So much poverty and injustice to fight… and so on.

That type of analysis is one reason I wish the emergents would become the submergents. Christ admonished us to look up, and wait expectantly for that day. Bible prophecy tells us of no sweeter promise than when we shall meet Him in the air. Yes, God has tasks for us here in this world, but it can be arrogant, not just irresponsible, to suggest that God cannot do things without us. And… there is a danger in putting too must trust in doctrines of works.

The whole Gospel must hold. Comfortable suburban (faddish) teachers who cannot relate to worshipers whose lives have been hard and challenging, those who hope for the Bible’s promised release, those who find comfort — and even perseverance — in songs like “I’ll Fly Away”… pity those teachers, or ignore them. They preach to each other.

Fasten your seat belts, because I’m going to share a very unorthodox (in some neighborhoods, anyway) version of “I’ll Fly Away.” Two decades ago I was writing a three-part biography of rock ‘n’ roll pioneer Jerry Lee Lewis, televangelist Jimmy Swaggart, and country singer Mickey Gilley. They are all first cousins, and grew up in Ferriday, Louisiana, attending the same little Assembly of God church.

I learned that for a brief time, Jerry Lee had attended Bible College, in Waxahatchie, Texas. I interviewed a fellow student, Charles Wigley (later a district superintendent of the Assemblies of God) who told me that a few students used to get together and play gospel music… and got in trouble for “juking it up.” Of course Jerry also got invited to leave the school because he used to sneak out at night and go to the Deep Elm section of Houston…

Be that as it may, the jazzed-up style of rock and country and the fervent evangelistic piano playing in Pentecostal churches sometimes straddled an indistinct line. Here is a video of Jerry Lee Lewis and his cousin Mickey Gilley performing “I’ll Fly Away” in what you might consider another installment in our “Doing Church Another Way” series! (Definitely NOT Baroque music)

This is how old it is: it was recorded, I think, the day after Reagan was elected president in 1980 (Jerry Lee throws in a reference to that fact)

To close the circle, see if you think worshipers in a little country church would have felt irresponsible about their faith after joining in with this song. Would you rip this out of a songbook?

Click:  I’ll Fly Away 

Years ago, when my wife had her heart and kidney transplants, the Lord used the circumstance to give our whole family a burden for others in the Heart Failure Unit at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia. He also graced us with a boldness to pray with those patients who waited… or who received the medical miracles… or whose transplants went awry… or their families in those situations, or, sometimes, times of grief.

There were questions, always questions, and we were laymen with few answers. We often were asked by pastors, even, how we managed to deal with peoples’ confusion and fear and doubt and sorrow and terror and loneliness. Well, it was the same as we dealt with faith and hope and conversions and even healing. It wasn’t us, it was Jesus — all we could do was share Jesus. (“All”? Yes, it was everything we could do).

We frequently sang a gospel song that became many patients’ favorite: Leave It There. Its words include:

If your body suffers pain and your health you can’t regain, And your soul is almost sinking in despair,
Jesus knows the pain you feel, He can save and He can heal; Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

Leave it there, leave it there, Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.
If you trust and never doubt, He will surely bring you out. Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

After a time I learned the amazing coincidence (?) that the gospel song had been written only a few blocks from Temple University Hospital, where we met for those services! C A Tindley, the son of a slave, educated himself, moved north to Philadelphia, secured a job as janitor of a church… and eventually became its pastor. His large mixed-race flock of 10,000 enjoyed his powerful preaching and his moving hymns for years. (One of his hymns, I’ll Overcome Someday, was transformed with different words and tempo into the Civil Rights anthem We Shall Overcome.) Tindley Temple United Methodist Church was his “home,” and today there is a C A Tindley Boulevard in Philadelphia.

So every time we sang that song in the Heart Failure Unit, we did honor to a man in whose neighborhood we sang, who taught untold multitudes (and still does, through such songs) that we should “be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God”… and leave them there at the foot of the cross.

By the way, another coincidence: this Gaither Homecoming video by Lillie Knauls and Babbie Mason is my favorite version. After my father died, in Florida, my sisters and I did not know what to do with furniture, kitchen appliances, household goods, and such, a thousand miles away from where we each lived. I called my pastor, whose sister, I knew, worked in a church nearby in central Florida. Could they find a needy family, perhaps, who could use these things? A few days later I received a phone call from another lady in that church who said she could indeed direct a couple families to the goods, and took down the information. Her name had rung a bell in my head but I thought, “no, it couldn’t be…” But it was. Lillie Knauls! A professional gospel singer, but also on the staff of that church. I was indeed happy to return blessings I had received from her through this performance…

But through it all, the simple message: through all of life’s challenges: don’t fret. Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.

Click:   Leave It There

Happy Monday.. and Happy Holy Week.

“Happy”?

Sure. It was a happy week, back in Jerusalem. Jesus rode into town; if we were there, we probably would have joined the happy throng with our palm-branches. Things turned ugly, the crowd was incited, Jesus was falsely accused. He was tortured, put on the cross, and died. Chances are that we — or at least I — would have been part of that crowd too. In fact, I sort of am, every time I sin.

But it sure was a happy week, after all, because He rose from the dead. He took the sins we commit upon Himself… died the death we deserve… and conquered death so that we might live with Him. I’m happy; are you?

Even Good Friday… etymologists speculate its origin was “God’s Friday”; maybe so. That willing, sacrificial death was Good indeed. Greater love hath no man than this.

Here is possibly the most unique, certainly a most memorable, version of the Easter story you might ever see. A little account of a kid’s Easter pageant. Father and son; death and resurrection; humor and Truth.

It is pianist Anthony Burger a few years ago talking about his five-year-old in an Easter pageant. Ironically, not long after this, Anthony himself died, suddenly, at the keyboard on a gospel-music cruise. His life was a mighty testimony… and so was his little boy’s story.

Click:  We Shall Behold Him

A short message about the greatest message ever delivered.

This week’s music is the recent, but already standard, Christmas favorite, Mary Did You Know, sung by its co-writer, Mark Lowry. The lyrics are a profound statement of Christ’s incarnation, in which we are invited to see through the eyes of His mother.

At this concert in Birmingham, Bill Gaither then draws the very proper — the essential — connection between Jesus’s first coming and His second coming. Christmas and Easter should not be two separate celebrations. The same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, He was here among men, and will return for us; the vulnerable baby is also the Great “I Am.”

St Augustine, 1500 years ago, put it this way: “The nature of God is a circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.” And that is Jesus, first born of all creation.

And… He came… for us. As you listen to “Mary, Did You Know,” let me ask: “Do YOU know?”

Click:  Mary, Did You Know

Christmas week approaches, and many of try to brush off news stories that Jesus was born in April or November, according to studies; and we also try to cut through the crowded shops and the gift-sale e-mails… hoping that, by focusing on the simple truths and modest imagery of Jesus’s birth, we can connect with the profundity of the Incarnation — God living amongst us. Coming first as a helpless baby.

Two thousand years later, Hallmark has us thinking that to be born in a manger was some sort of Green bonus, the happy family surrounded by squeaky-clean animal friends and shiny angels. More the truth was that the stable was a step up from a dung-heap. Swaddling clothes were essential, else the baby would have been delivered and lain on musty straw, animal spittle, and bugs.

Think of it: Jesus came into this world rejected and despised, and that is how, as a man, He left it.

Isaiah knew it would happen this way. Eight hundred years earlier, the prophet wrote:

“Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed? For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid, as it were, our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”

The rest of Chapter 53, of course, foretells the Easter story. But I think it is significant, too (otherwise God would not have ordered its occurrence and recording) that we remember the challenges to Joseph, the abuse Mary endured, the difficulties of Jesus’s birth… and His entire life. “Despised and rejected of men.”

Yet this “undesirable” was also THE JOY OF MANKIND’S DESIRING. As sinners today, we still esteem Him not sometimes… yet we desire Him, our souls are only complete when He lives within us!

Here is a performance of that ethereally beautiful movement from Bach’s Cantata Number 147, “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” It is sung by the group Celtic Women, in an arrangement that is both touching and revealing of how adaptable Bach’s music is. Here are the words the ensemble sings:

Jesu, joy of man’s desiring,

Holy wisdom, love most bright.

Drawn by Thee, our souls? aspiring,

Soar to uncreated light.

Word of God, our flesh that fashioned

With the fire of life impassioned,

Striving still to Truth unknown,

Soaring, dying, ’round Thy throne.

Click: Jesus, Joy of Man’s Desiring

Sometime in these days before Christmas, likely this very week, you will meet or be with someone with whom you can share something special.

The Christmas season — everything we are surrounded with, and all that is missing in contemporary-style surroundings — can allow the sharing of thoughts to come easier. Or it can make it much harder. Clichés rush to our lips, and can sound like old truths, which they are; or sound like… well, empty clichés.

Here’s a thought: if you think someone has a need in his or her life that can be filled by the spiritual blessings you have experienced, DON’T tell them about your wonderful church.

DON’T tell them about the great music on Sunday mornings.

DON’T tell them about the amazing sermons, even if you have a stack of cassettes.

DON’T tell them about the wild youth group and all the activities.

DON’T tell them about the small group studies, ladies’ fellowships, men’s breakfasts.

DON’T tell them about the neighborhood Bible studies.

DON’T tell them about the outreaches, soup kitchens, and missions programs.

… not first, anyway. Not even second or third. If the person you talk to needs those things, he or she will come to know them, sure enough. If you act like those things are the Main Deal in your faith life… well, you’re revealing that you are a social animal, but sharing nothing about your faith. Or, rather, the Source of your faith.

Tell them about Jesus. That’s all. Tell them the story of Jesus.

The blind poet Frances Crosby (who never wrote a poem until her 40s and wrote 7000 poems and hymns before she died) said it best — and provided a brief script for us, if our own words come hard! — in the song Tell Me the Story of Jesus. Here it is sung at a Gaither Homecoming camp meeting on a warm summer evening in Fairmount, Indiana; followed appropriately by a verse from another beloved hymn, I Love to Tell the Story.

Click:  Tell Me the Story of Jesus

Happy Monday!

This weekend just passed covered the day we celebrate — or should celebrate and commemorate; a good time to re-dedicate — Reformation Day. October 31, anniversary of the day Dr Martin Luther nailed his 95 These to the church door at Wittenberg, Germany.

These 95 points of ”Contention” with policies of the Pope and the establishment Roman Church are regarded as the sparks that ignited the Reformation, and the Protestant movement. There were reformers before Luther – preachers, theologians and Bible translators who were persecuted, tortured, and killed. The English John Wycliffe died a century before Luther was active. Hatred against him, for daring to adapt the Bible to the language of the people, was that his bones were disinterred and burned after his death. The Bohemian reformer Jan Hus was burned at the stake for his reformist beliefs. His last words, tied to the stake, before the flames consumed him, were “in a hundred years, God will raise up a man whose calls for reform can not be suppressed.“

It was 102 year later that Luther nailed his challenges to that church door.
Luther was persecuted, chased, went into hiding, and translated the Bible into the language of his people, the Germans. He sought reform, not revolution, yet revolution occurred: half of Europe caught fire with the belief that faith alone, by God’s grace, actuated salvation; and that people needed no intercessor with God except Christ. He was excommunicated. He married. He preached and wrote lessons… and wrote hymns.
It is my belief that, as we approach the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, the church — at least the Western Church, certainly the American church in virtually all its corners — is in dire need of reformation again.

More than that, we need to look to Martin Luther as a Hero of Conscience. He said when he was called on trial to recant his beliefs and writings,
“Unless I am convinced by proofs from Scriptures or by plain and clear reasons and arguments, I can not and will not retract.
“For it is neither safe nor wise to do anything against conscience.
“Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me.“

The time is coming in this contemporary world when Christians have it demanded of them to renounce their faith. That this is already a time of anti-Christian persecution, is abundantly clear. That, daily, believers suffer indignities and are asked to compromise their principles and forced to sublimate their voices, is a reality to committed Christians.

Some days soon Christians will have to suffer no longer in silence, or have the luxury of withdrawing into small groups and communities of believers. The Bible does not merely warn… prophets did not just threaten… but God promised this holy challenge to the saints of God in the End Times.

Can we, like Luther, have the spiritual strength to say:”For it is neither safe nor wise to do anything against conscience. “Here I stand. I can do no other” ?

I have two brief clips for Reformation Day: the first is the powerful “conscience” scene from the 1953 “Luther” movie starring Niall MacGinnis (nominated for an Academy Award).

Here I stand

The second is the “battle hymn of the Reformation” sung a capella by Steve Green. Myself, I can never sing this mighty hymn without choking up. Its final lines describe Luther’s trial… and foreshadow our own:
“Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever!”

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God

Have a good week.
Rick Marschall

Merry Monday to all.

I am in the process — yes, it is a process — of writing a biography of Johann Sebastian Bach. Specifically about the role of faith in his life and work. It is a humbling privilege to deal with, and introduce a new generation of readers to, the greatest musical genius the human race has produced. I will say, somewhere in the book, that the music of Bach is hard to explain but easy to understand.

In a similar way Bach, being as intensely devoted to his faith in God and love of Jesus as to his music, used his talent to make the complicated theology of 18th-century Germany nevertheless understandable to the masses. I was struck in my studies, listening to his astonishing “Magnificat” — the prayer of Mary (Luke I) when she learns she has been visited by the Holy Ghost and is with child — how brilliantly he used his talent to explain Gospel truths. In her prayer, Mary says, “henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.” Bach used that verse for the fourth movement of “The Magnificat”… and he might have dwelt on the words, the concepts, of “henceforth” or “me” (as veneration of Mary was a theological issue), or “blessed.”
But he chose to focus on the word “generations,” the phrase “all generations,” and drive home several biblical points. The birth of Jesus became the focal point of creation’s unfolding work: the fulcrum of history. More, all generations to come would look back on Mary and call her blessed. Further, all previous generations looked forward to the birth of the Messiah. And, having isolated that phrase to imbue the Virgin Birth with its spiritual profundity, Bach capped it all by using musical composition to do more than merely quote the Bible verse.

The Latin words for “all generations” is “Omnes Generationes.” In his “Magnificat” Johann Sebastian Bach endows his five-part choir with a cascading multiplicity of that phrase — up the scale and down; women’s statements and men’s responses; from the left (as it were, in the choir loft) and from the right; in repetition and staccato fashion — “all generations,” “all generations,” “all generations,” “all generations.”
Truly, before the short but awesome chorus is finished, listeners have a mental image of the numberless hosts of heaven rejoicing: a mighty cloud of witnesses, to be sure, of the past and of the future.
The brief clip this week has two halves: one, the score of the movement, leading your eye through the multi-part composition — how Bach worked out the concept of future generations blessing Mary. But the second half is a unique piece of speculation by an internet musical-theologian. Along the lines of typology, numerical symbolism, and “Bible codes,” here is speculation that Bach composed this movement to precisely enumerate the generations of Jesus’ ancestry.

Speculation only, but as Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever, we know that saints of previous days indeed looked forward to the Incarnation (“It seemed good to me also, having had perfect understanding of all things from the very first, to write unto thee in order…” Luke I:3).
Here is Mary’s prayer (“The Magnificat”) as recorded in Luke I: 46-55:
“And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For He hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For He that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is His name. And his mercy is on them that fear Him from generation to generation. He hath showed strength with his arm; He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich He hath sent empty away. He hath helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy; As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham, and to His seed for ever.”

Join the heavenly chorus! Picture countless angels and saints praising the Incarnation:
click All Generations!

Have a great week. Come on Bach now, y’hear?
Rick Marschall

Happy Monday!

I was talking on Sunday with my daughter Emily and her husband Norman McCorkell, both students at the Irish Bible Institute in Dublin, Ireland, and they told me of the blessings they received at a concert Saturday night. The American Christian singer Jason Upton appeared locally — singing, preaching, and worshiping. Emily and Norman and the whole room were touched mightily. Norman asked me what I was planning for today’s MMMM, and I said, “your thoughts from the evening; and Jason’s music.” Here it is!

Good Morning E-mail Community!
When ‘Pop’ asked me to present this week’s mailing of MMMM (Monday Morning Music Ministry), I could not think of anything better than to share of the marvelous evening that I spent with my wife in Dublin. I pray you will be touched as we were.

Jason Upton, live in concert, was our date of choice Saturday night. And he was simply superb!
During his set, Upton talked about many profound things including freedom, child-like faith, and finding rest in God — which is the theme that I’d suggest we consider this morning.

“The most humble thing that we can do for our Lord is to let him write our future,” Jason said. Too often we try to dictate, manipulate, and control our own futures, rather than simply trust in His perfect promises and gentle directions.

When we recall the precious moments leading up to our moments of conversion, we realize that Jesus wasn’t there luring us with a glossy road map of the future or a scintillating theological plan with all the answers. He simply asked us to trust in Him. Or, in His own words, “Follow me.”
Heart first, head second.

So often we get so consumed with the head stuff. The BIG picture, planning for the day that never actually happens, and worrying about questions that ONLY God can answer. Unfortunately, all too often, we forget that we are primarily called to a life of FAITH.
Should I go on?

OK then, let me finish this by illustrating with the perfect concomitant from the book of Genesis:
When we study the creation account in Genesis 2, specifically the seventh day (the day God RESTED), we will find that God does not call the day to an end like the other previous six. Which means that God is still resting. Thus, in God’s presence today, and this morning, we are still guaranteed to find REST.

To conclude then, before our day begins, let us throw off any anxiety that comes from needing to know exactly where we are going and what the “next step” is. Living in a nervous state of worry and angst robs us from the very thing that God wants us to dwell within – HIS PRESENCE, or put another way, His sovereign, wonderful, and everlasting REST!
So WHY worry?

Lastly, no matter what your have planned for this week, stop for just a few minutes and enjoy Jason leading you into God’s rest right now.
Norman McCorkell

Click: In Your Presence

Have a great week!
Rick Marschall

Spring… a sense that all things are new. Don’t let the pagans fool you into thinking a celebration of life’s “newness” is somehow all “nature” and no God. Many things are new in the Spring – it seems like dead trees come to life; dormant earth turns green again; cloistered souls spread their wings.

“All things new.”

God grants us New Days, not just because His earth spins and the sun inevitably shows up every morning. The promise of a new life is what flows from being Born Again.

When we are born again, it’s not an “other” life; it’s not a “different” life; it’s not a “second” life; it’s a New Life. And it’s not just once that we are Born Again. Oh the mysteries of the Father! When we are born again, we experience the New Life every day.

Experience the New Life! He tells us it is ours to have! We don’t blaspheme God’s name; neither should we blaspheme His promises.

Here’s Janet Paschal with Gaither Homecoming friends, and a room full of joy-filled believers —

Click:  Born Again