The Return

Without a doubt, it was a surprise to see Josiah standing in our living room. He certainly wasn't supposed to be there. In fact, he wasn't supposed to be anywhere in the United States. Truth be told, I figured he was jogging along some beach in Mexico, or perfecting the surfing skills he's learning. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Josiah is my son, the eldest son in fact, and he works as a student counselor in a school in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Several months before Christmas, he had told me that he couldn't afford to fly home for the holiday. I was disappointed, but understood and, more importantly, believed him. In retrospect, the latter was a mistake on my part. He lied. All of my boys had lied. They had actually planned it when he left. The thought process must have gone something like this, "Let's surprise the old man at Christmas. We'll tell him Josiah's not coming home, but then he will come home. It'll be a nice little shock for the ancient one." Well, they lied, it did surprise me, and it was a wonderful Christmas.

But now, Christmas is over, and I just put Josiah on a plane bound for Mexico. In the coming days, people all across the world will be taking down Christmas trees, packing away decorations, and nativity sets will be carefully wrapped and stored. Everything, including the porcelain baby, will be carried to some safe spot where it will lay quietly until Christmas rolls around again.

It occurs to me that, for many, this yearly interaction with the baby Jesus is as close as they want to come to the eternal. It's as close as they want to come to the divine and holy. Yearly, they will bring the child out of storage, and neatly place him in his proper position on the mantle with Mary and Joseph. They will surround him with shepherds, wise men and an assortment of animals. A nonthreatening, inoffensive , unobjectionable porcelain baby Jesus.

It seems as if most people want to remember him as that harmless little baby born on Christmas. But it's certainly not the end of the story. Jesus grew to manhood. He grew into a man who became offensive to the religious leaders of the day. He grew to become a man who was a threat to the seemingly pious and self righteous leaders of his time. He grew to be a man to whom religion showed nothing but objection. He would be mocked, ridiculed, spit upon and finally lashed, nearly to the point of death, before he was nailed to a tree. It wasn't neat and tidy. He wasn't nonthreatening, inoffensive or unobjectionable. But human kind is more comfortable with an innocuous porcelain Jesus.

It is why, I think, so many people celebrate the birth of the baby, and so few truly adore the life he would live, the death he would die, or the life he now lives. You see, it's hard to be offended by a baby. It's hard to be threatened by the porcelain little child surrounded by his parents, and shepherds, and cute little animals. But the man he grew into will stagger you. He will threaten your sense of self-sufficiency, and the kingdom your ego has built for itself. He will offend your pride, tear apart your arrogance, and confront your sinfulness. The person of Christ will tear down everything you are so that he can build you into everything he needs you to be in him. The man will compel you to truly, "Take up your cross and follow him." It is done in love. It is done to give you peace and joy. The helpless little baby grew into a man who will astonish you in the thoroughness of his sifting.

This man, Jesus, offended people in his time. He offends people in our time. But, truth be told, the biggest offense is yet to come. And that's my purpose in mentioning Josiah's Christmas surprise. You see, this same Jesus is coming again. Only this time, it won't be as a helpless little baby. This time it won't be revealed only to a few. But, to be sure, this time it will be a surprise to the world. It is true, Josiah's surprise return is miniscule compared to the surprise that is coming when the Father turns to the Son and says, "It's time."

And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse,

and He who sat on it is called Faithful and True,

And in righteousness He judges and wages war.

His eyes are a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems; and

He has a name written on Him which no one knows except Himself.

He is clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God.

And the armies which are in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, were following Him on white horses.

From His mouth comes a sharp sword, so that with it He may strike down the nations, and He will rule them with a rod of iron;

and He treads the wine press of the fierce wrath of God, the Almighty.

And on His robe and on His thigh He has a name written,

"KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS."

Revelation 19:11-16 (NASB)

I think it's his eyes that will offend most people. People, perhaps, who year after year have religiously placed that porcelain little baby neatly on the mantle in the midst of Mary and Joseph. People, perhaps, who have religiously occupied a spot on a church pew every Sunday for decades. Many such people will look into those eyes that are a flame of fire and hear the words, "I do not know you." For Christ is not returning for the religious, he is returning for those who are his. And people will be offended. People will be threatened as they look into those eyes, and I am sure that if they could speak, they would object. But the eyes will keep them silent, and in their hearts they will know the truth. They really do not know this King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

My advice, for what it's worth, is to get to know the man the baby became. Receive the life he lived, the death he died, and the life he now lives. Don't be content with a porcelain baby Jesus, but press on to know the salvation and life offered by the man he became.

As the new year begins, my goal is the same as it has been for the past three decades. To know that man better. To know him deeper. To anticipate the day he returns, and to be confident that I will be able to look into those eyes that are a flame of fire and see recognition.

Have a blessed 2011!

The Incarnation

Christmas 2010

Dear Family and Friends,

I have taken several readings and, by every indicator, I am a man in need of grace. More to the point, even by the lowest standard.....(And, sadly, a God who is perfect in His perfection, never uses the lowest standard)....I have come to understand that I am in desperate need of God's unfathomable sustaining grace.

Perhaps that is why, in a life checkered with limited success and tremendous failure, I find myself irresistibly drawn to the attribute of God for which I feel the greatest need. His glorious, sacrificial, unimaginable, incomprehensible grace. It is, I believe, the reason for my deep appreciation of the love and grace poured out at the Incarnation.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."

There has never been, in my opinion, a sentence ever written or uttered more pregnant in richness and depth than this one penned by a rugged, old fisherman who could boast of no formal education. Never have eight words described the eternal being drawn into time, or perfection placed in the midst of imperfection, or the explosive power of creation silently placed into the hands of powerless man, than these eight words.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."

Creation adored Him, a star shadowed Him, shepherds worshiped Him, wise men sought Him, the angels bowed in holy wonder, and the Father was pleased. In that instant, God had not only pitched his tent among men, but the tent was flesh and bone, with a face and arms and legs. The tent was a baby, and the all-sustaining God was in the tent. All of God's love, all of His grace, and His majesty, and His holiness, wrapped in a helpless little baby.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."

To be clear, it wasn't an act of desperation to save His fallen creation, but an outflow of the very nature of a loving Father. It wasn't a change of plan on the part of the Creator, but a moment destined in eternity, welling up from the core of everything that is divine. It bridged the beginning and end of time with all that is eternal. It touched creation, for the furthest star felt it's impact, and the tiniest atom shook at it's significance. It submerged humanity in love and grace. Even with it's unfathomable scope and magnitude, and despite it encompassing every possible dimension, it was extremely personal.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."

It was extremely personal. It did not happen for those who are without sin, for they have no need of grace. It did not happen for those who need to be touched by grace on the rare occasion, for they do not comprehend the extent of their sinfulness. But it happened for those of who realize the need for rivers of grace. Not just a sprinkling of grace. Not just a spattering of grace. But extravagant, exorbitant, enormously overflowing rivers of grace.

And that would be me, and it's why I love the Incarnation.

So, celebrate Christmas....but take some time to bow in worshipful adoration at the wonder of the Incarnation.

Have a wonderful, fruitful and blessed 2011.

By Grace Alone with Love,

Jim and Jacquie

P.S. Nearly six years ago, Jacquie and I incorporated an organization we called Rivers of Grace Ministries. We didn't know the purpose at that time, nor do we completely understand it now. We filed the papers and set them aside while the Father worked His grace in us. In the past months, we have been sensing that God is telling us that it is time to do something with our corporation. Please pray for direction for us as we seek our Lord for His vision.

Notes

I seem to have lost access to my old blog account.  I have started a new one and taken a few of my favorite old blogs on here.  There are three old ones that follow.

Rivers of Grace

I need to tell you that it's been quite a winter. Some really wonderful days, and some that were less than I had hoped. What I continue to learn is that God's grace sustains me in them all.

The past few years have been a time in which God, in His grace, continues to reveal to me the depths of His grace. When that old, uneducated, fisherman sat down under the influence of the Holy Spirit and began to describe his friend, Master and Savior, he penned some of the most beautiful words ever written. Among them were these:

For of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace. For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth were realized through Jesus Christ. John 1: 16-17

Now, I'm not saying that I understand completely what John meant by the words "grace upon grace," and I'm equally sure that I can't begin to explain them. But I do know that I've experienced them. And, I do know that the grace I understood when I first came to Christ has exploded from a miniscule little tidbit, to a mountain of His undeserved favor toward me. When I peal back the grace that saved me, I find another layer of grace that went before that. When I peal a little more away I find…..you guessed it….more grace. It is truly layer after layer of grace. Grace upon grace.

It has led me to study the lives and theology of the reformers, and I have become a firm believer in Reformation Theology. It's a theology that turned the world upside down in Luther's time, and it's a theology that will turn the Christian world upside down again. The church needs it, and God will bring the revelation, once again, in his time.

Pray for Jacquie and me. We're hoping to develop a ministry we have incorporated…."Rivers of Grace Ministries." We're not completely sure what the Lord would have us do with it, but we're ready to go.

Plan to write more later. Praise the Lord for His mercy. Praise the Lord for His grace.

If Jacquie and I can ever pray for you….whether we know you or not….let me know.

Messy Spirituality

Although it's been several years since I read it, one of my favorite books is Mike Yaconelli's book "Messy Spirituality." Along with R.C. Sproul's books on Reformation Theology, it has changed my thinking in so many areas of my spiritual life. The writings of these men have freed me to experience this wonderful spiritual journey God has placed me on to its fullest.

That's not to say the journey has always been painless. During the journey, there have been times of great victory, and times of great defeat. There have been times when, like Peter, I felt that no matter what happened I would never forsake my Savior. And, quite the opposite, there have been times when I have hung my head, completely crushed, at my betrayal of him. Again, much like Peter.

I cannot describe my spiritual journey as one of complete victory, nor can I characterize it as one of complete defeat. I can, however, think of one word that describes my journey quite well. Actually there is only one word that I can use. "Messy" describes it perfectly. There may be others like muddled, or cluttered, or confused….but I'm sticking with messy.

That's where I appreciate Yaconelli and his wonderful little book. In it I find that my journey is not the only journey that's been a little on the "messy" side. Abraham's was. Sampson's was. David's was. Peter's was. Paul's was. Actually, when you look at the list of spiritual leaders in the bible, you find that many of their journeys were not as tidy as many of us pretend or wish ours could be.

One of my favorite quotes from Yaconelli's book is his confession that he "is a Christian with a high tolerance for beer." I'm not sure if that's an exact quote or my paraphrase but, either way, I can relate to it. When was the last time you heard that at testimony time at the old church.

I'm back to grace again. Downright radical, incomprehensible, unimaginable, glorious grace. It's the grace that Luther, Melanchthon, and Calvin grabbed a hold of and turned Christianity upside down.

So here's my testimony. God has, through His marvelous grace, allowed me to minister to many people. He has also, through His marvelous grace, held me when my walk became "messy." In the times when my walk was like Abraham's or David's or Yaconelli's at their lowest points…..God's grace was there. It was there as powerfully during the low points as it was during the high points of my journey.

There is so much more, but these were some of my thoughts during my quiet walk along the peaceful Kettle River this morning. My dog didn't seem to appreciate them so much, so I thought I'd throw them on here.

Grace Lessons From a Cat

We almost lost the cat. Not that I'm particularly fond of cats and, normally, the loss of one would be nothing less than a small speed bump in my day. However, this cat belonged to my son's girlfriend, and since we're fond of her, the cat becomes part of the deal. Besides, my son Chris felt terrible, as I guess he should have, and a parent never wants to see his son set up to live a life filled with guilt. Perhaps I should back up.

Chris, that would be one of my sons, was heading back to St. Cloud. Jessica, his girlfriend, was taking him. They stopped by the house to pick up Chris' stuff, and happened to have her two cats with them. Chris, the ever polite host, decided to introduce the cats to Buddy. Buddy would be our dog. He's part Black Lab and part Pit Bull, but more important to this story, he's not a big fan of cats. As it turns out, the cats weren't big fans of dogs either. At least, they weren't fans of dogs that are part Black Lab, and part Pit Bull.

As I was trying to find some bandages for Chris' scratches, he explained to me what had happened. It was a short introduction, really. Apparently, Buddy stared at the cats for a few seconds, and the cats stared at Buddy. It was somewhere during this stare-down, that the cats simultaneously decided that they did not truly, in their hearts, want to meet Buddy.

Since Buddy is a special creature, in the end, it was a loss for the cats. Unfortunately, Chris suffered some real consequences for the last minute decision on the part of the cats. They were in a hurry to get away but Chris, determined lad that he is, tried holding them with everything he had in him. After a short but fierce battle, one did get away, and the other may have suffered some damage from Chris' hands around his neck. Chris suffered from numerous scratches, but fortunately, Buddy came away from the incident unharmed.

In the end, however, it was the lost cat that became the focus of our attention. Jessica and Chris walked around looking for it. Acting the part of the concerned parent, I got in the car and drove around to take a look. Actually, I was thinking about how ironic it would be if a scared cat ran in front of my car and…..well… never mind.

The bottom line is, the cat was missing. The owner, along with several friends, was looking for it. Chris felt certain that he would be in the dog house….no pun intended…for the foreseeable future, and I was trying to decide what I should have for supper.

Chris must really care for this young woman, because he was devastated. And, I'm fairly certain that it wasn't because of his attachment to the cat. Chris and I decided to take a slow walk around the neighbor's house, and guess what? O.K. you guessed it. Not that difficult really. We found the cat huddled, kind of paralyzed with fear, under an old piece of plywood.

That's pretty much the end of the story. Chris was more relieved than I've ever seen him. Jessica was happy. Neither cat will ever be the same, but Buddy's pretty much his same old self.

As I reflected on it, though, it occurred to me that many Christians spend much of their life huddled fearfully in what they think is a safe hiding place. They've been scared. Maybe because of some terrible sin. Or, perhaps, they've been frightened by the "religious" community. It could be that, like Buddy and the cat, Satan has growled at them, and they looked for a safe place to hide.

That cat could have spent the rest of her life fearfully huddled under that piece of wood. But she would have missed the love, affection and attention of her master. The fear would have caused her to exchange all the great things her master had for her for a life of loneliness and emptiness.

Thank God for grace. Thank God that, even in those times when we might hide from him in fear, He's out looking for us. Just like he called to Adam when he tried to hide…..in grace, the Father calls to those of us who belong to Him. And when we leave our hiding place, he picks us up, holds us and carries us to a place of safety.

He's a marvelous God. I praise Him for His mercy and grace. I praise Him for His love. And I praise Him that He never gives up on His chosen, even when we've given up on ourselves. Even those times when we run away, and hide in fear.