Easter Thoughts

"I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast.  And when I run I feel His pleasure."  

                                          Eric Liddell (Chariots of Fire)

That quote has stuck in my mind since I first saw the movie in 1981, particularly the last sentence, "And when I run I feel his pleasure."  To be clear, I am not built for running.  I am especially not built for running fast.  Truth be told, I am built much more like an old work horse than anything resembling a thoroughbred.  But I do like to run, and I have for most of my life.  It is true that I feel closest to God when I am out running with my dogs.  Or, short of that, when I am walking them along the Kettle River.  I can feel close to God when I'm in church to be sure.  I can feel close to him when I'm studying at my desk as well.  But truly, nothing compares to the closeness I feel when I am jogging down some dirt road, or walking in the woods.  For some reason, in those times I do feel his pleasure.

Well, I was walking my dogs, Abby and Hunter, along the river the other day.  Enjoying the beauty.  Talking to the Father.  Thinking about life.  About half way through the walk, I noticed that Abby was in the river, and she was struggling.  When I got down to where she was, I could tell that something was preventing her from getting out of the water, but I couldn't tell what it was.  As I grabbed her and tried pulling her out, she yelped and retreated to deeper water.  Since I am a tad slow mentally as well as physically, it took me a minute or two to realize that she had stepped on a beaver trap.  The weight attached to the trap wouldn't allow her to move, and since any movement caused pain, Abby was content not to move.  I did what I had to do.  I grabbed the wire attaching the trap to the shore, and began to pull the trap and Abby to me.  It hurt her, to be sure, but it was the only way to set her free.  Once I had her and the trap on the shore, I opened the jaws and pulled her out.  Fortunately, she had only caught her paw in the trap, and after running on three legs for awhile decided that there really wasn't enough damage not to run on all four.

On the walk back to the car, I reflected on Abby's little accident.  It occurred to me that way back in the Garden of Eden, a similar thing happened to Eve.  The enemy set a trap by saying, "You surely will not die!  For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."  We all know the story from Sunday School.  Eve stepped into the trap, and ate the fruit that God had forbidden them from eating.  When Eve brought the fruit to Adam, the first man could tell his wife had changed.  Adam had a choice.  He could refuse to eat the fruit, and keep the close fellowship he had with the Creator, or he could eat the fruit and become like his wife.  He looked at his wife, ate the fruit and walked into the trap.

That really is what Easter is all about.  The Creator's creation was trapped.  And the Creator came to set his creation free.  Ever since the first trap in the special garden, men and women have been stepping into traps set by the enemy, and ever since that time the Father has been working to set them free.

To be completely honest, I have stepped into a few traps myself.  Some of them I have seen, and some of them I haven't.  But regardless, just like I saw Abby's struggle, the Father sees mine.  He comes to where I'm at, draws me to himself and sets me free.  And just like with Abby, sometimes the extraction process can be painful, but the Father remains determined....and faithful.... and trustworthy.  And in the end, He sets me free.  Free to walk with him, and to fellowship with him.  And free to feel his pleasure when I run.   

The Armor

The nondescript village sat deep in the foothills of a lesser known mountain range seldom mentioned in history.  Records of the twelfth century seem to have neglected and, some would say, even ignored any contribution this little hamlet may have had on the advancement of the kingdom surrounding it.  To be sure, it was an isolated place on the banks of a beautiful river which wandered rather aimlessly from a towering neighboring mountain.  Any casual observer, strolling through this village, would have been impressed with the tidiness of the dwellings as well as the orderliness in which they were arranged.  Modest huts, some made of wood and others made of stone, neatly lined the trail that led through the center the town.  Had the observer spent any amount of time with the residents, he would have found them to be kind to one another, leery of strangers and persistent as they went about their daily activities.

A word must be said regarding the average day in this village.  There were, without a doubt, a variety of things that needed to be done every day just to provide for the survival of the community.  Of course, there were also daily rituals required to keep the area neat and orderly and the population well fed..  Over the years the villagers had become adept at quickly doing the mundane things of life so that they could concentrate on their passion.  Yes, everyone in the village shared an obsession. They would rise early to complete the required demands of they day so that they could spend any remaining time doing what they loved most.  Making armor.  And could these people make armor.  Helmets, breastplates, gauntlets and everything else necessary to clothe a knight.  They would also make shields, axes and swords as well as a variety of other forms of weaponry.

It's what these people did, don't you see.  For generation after generation, the people of this village spent their days designing and molding some truly beautiful armor and, if they would admit it, they were proud of the wonderful pieces neatly displayed outside of their tiny wooden and stone houses.  When they weren't making the armor or polishing it, for each piece would be polished daily, they spent their time discussing how the armor might be used.  They would imagine battles that would be fought, and victories that would be won with their truly splendid armor.

There was, indeed, a question that the villagers would not allow to come into focus in their minds.  While the armor did look magnificent, and while it was unquestionably beautiful and always well polished, it really had never been tested in battle.  Without a doubt, there had been opportunity, for the kingdom was constantly under attack.  But, sadly, the village was wary of allowing any of its people or armor to leave and do battle for the kingdom.  The possibility of the swords becoming dented or scratched was a concern as was the thought of the well maintained helmets and breastplates losing the sheen that can only come from decades of dedicated furbishing.  Since the village was inconsequential in kingdom warfare, the enemy never attacked and the warriors of the kingdom had little reason to pass through.  And so, the people of the village passed their time buffing their armament and discussing battle logistics.

One day, a form appeared on the horizon opposite the mountain.  A lone man slowly walking toward the isolated village.  His image was indistinct in the distance as the inhabitants of the village cautiously peered from the doorways of the small wood and stone huts.  Visitors to the area were practically nonexistent, and so the townspeople watched the approaching figure guardedly.

As the figure drew closer, it became clear that the man was a knight just recent from battle.  He approached the edge of the village with his helmet cradled in his left arm as his sword swung from his belt beneath his right.  His path took him down the trail through the middle of the town as he made his way toward the river at the foot of the mountain.  From behind closed doors, the villagers stared at the figure with the grey, grizzled hair, and several weeks worth of beard on his face.  Although weak, he carried himself with determination as he made his way between the houses.  The warrior's mind was filled with memories of substantial kingdom victories as well as remembrances of crushing defeats.  He saw the doors of the houses move ever so slightly, and knew his movements were being studied.  He saw the magnificently shining armor outside of the houses, but their beauty did not seem to move him.  So he walked toward the river, aware of staring eyes, mindful of subdued whispers, but indifferent to any of it.  The warrior was wise enough to know what was being said, but old enough not to care.

Once he had reached the river side of the town, the villagers slowly made their way outside and filled the trail behind him.  He was some distance away, but still they spoke in low tones.  They spoke despairingly of the huge gouges in his breastplate, and the dents in his helmet.  As they spoke, they could be seen pointing to the armor proudly displayed outside of their wooden and stone houses.  They compared the brightness of their armor to the dingy, soot covered and grungy armor worn by the stranger.  Smiles and snickers were common as they contrasted his beat up sword and pitted shield with the masterpieces in their yards.  And for the villagers, it was a glorious night.  They spoke late into the night about the neglected armor the stranger wore, and they laughed at his tattered weaponry.  They speculated at the battles he must of lost, and shook their heads in disdain at the defeats he must have so foolishly suffered.  At long last they slept.  They slept knowing that their armor would never be as dingy as that of the stranger who passed through that day.  And they slept reassured in their minds that they would have been victorious in the battles in which the passing warrior had suffered defeat.

The warrior slept too.  He slept next to the river with his breastplate as a pillow, and his sword at his side.  He slept dreaming of the battles to come, and victories won for the kingdom.  And the warrior slept well.         

     

“Isn't it weird that the mighty army of the children of God – shod with faith, shielded by righteousness, and armed with the Word of God – spends the vast majority of its time either polishing its armor or fighting with one another?” - Mike Warnke

Wilderness Wanderings

When the hour had come, He reclined at the table, and the apostles with Him.
And He said to them, 

"I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer;
 for I say to you, I shall never again eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God."
And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, He said, 

"Take this and share it among yourselves;
for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on 

until the kingdom of God comes."
 And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, 

He broke it and gave it to them, saying,
"This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me."
And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.
Luke 22:14-20 (NASB)

God has always related to man through covenants.  It's true.  Throughout the history of mankind, any relationship any individual has had with the Creator, has been through a covenant.  For the believer, that covenant is the new covenant Christ purchased when he submitted to the plan of the Father, and allowed himself to be crucified on Golgotha.  

During his last Passover and, indeed, the final meal he would share with his disciples prior to the culmination of his earthly mission, Christ celebrated the end of one covenant while looking forward to a new one.  He paid tribute to the way God had related to his people while, at the same time, promising a sacrifice through which the Father could have not only a deeper but, ultimately, a perfect relationship with those who would become his children.  While this new covenant is spoken of throughout the whole new testament, particularly through the writings of Paul, the old testament prophet Jeremiah outlined it this way:

Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah,
not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD.

But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. 

And I will be their God, 

and they shall be my people.

And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, 

and I will remember their sin no more.  Jeremiah 31:31-34 (ESV)

Although the disciples did not understand it at the time, Christ was saying that his blood was going to be poured out, and that he was going to die.  As a result of that death, man's relationship to God was going to change. Jesus was saying to his disciples that the new covenant predicted by Jeremiah was now being instituted.  Rather than trying to relate to the Father through the keeping of an external set of rules, this new relationship would be characterized by an inner transformation of his children.  It would no longer be a set of rules trying to make their way in, it would be a change on the inside that works its way out. 

That is marvelous, indeed, but it doesn't stop there.  Through this new covenant, God's children would not only know about him, they would know him personally.  The creature would relate to the Creator on an intimate level.  That intimacy is possible because iniquity would be forgiven, and sin no longer remembered.  I don't know about you, but that is certainly good news for me.  And, to top it off,  Yahweh guarantees the success of the new covenant.  He took the initiative to establish the covenant, and in stark contrast to the "thou shalt not," and "thou shalt" of the old covenant are the words, "I will put," "I will write," "I will forgive" of the new covenant.   It's God's work, done in God's people, for God's glory.

So, Christ sits with his disciples remembering God's deliverance of his people from Egypt.  He is remembering their deliverance from bondage and slavery and, in the middle of that remembrance, he makes them a promise.  He promises that there is another day coming.  A day when his followers will dine with him in the Kingdom of God.  For the believer, that is the promised land.  That is glory.  That is the goal and the prize.  That is what we long for above all things.

God does nothing by accident.  There are no coincidences with God.  The parallels between the journey of the people old covenant, and the journey of the people of the new covenant are there because of design, not merely chance.  It is, indeed, difficult not to compare Israel's delivery from slavery and bondage in Egypt to the believer's deliverance from slavery and bondage to sin at salvation.  It is equally as difficult not to compare the land God promised his people under the old covenant with the eternal glory he has promised his people under the new covenant.  But, for both, there was a journey in between.  For the people of Israel that journey was the wilderness.  For the people of Christ that journey is life.  And there are similarities.

For the believer to say that this wilderness wandering we call life becomes a walk in the park once we submit our lives to Christ would, at the least, be misleading.  It is actually closer to delusional or self deceiving or even out right lying.  The realities of wilderness living are continually before us.  There is sickness and disease.  There are wonderful days as well as terrible days.  There are time of marvelous victory, and there are days of devastating defeat. There are times of fantastic enthusiasm scattered among times of utter nothingness.  The list goes on and on.  Times of great vision and times of going through the motions.  Times when we take great strides in our walk, and times when the walk becomes a crawl.  Times of gain, and times of loss.

The good news is, through all of the highs and lows, the covenant still remains in place.  We are heading toward the promised land.  We do have this wilderness journey ahead of us, but glory is just on the other side of the spiritual Jordan.  And our Father does promise to guide, strengthen and preserve us through the journey. While we have not entered the Kingdom of God, he allows us to bring portions of the kingdom to our wilderness trials.  While we have not received all of the grace we will receive in eternity, he gives us enough to sustain us as we travel.  We certainly have not experienced all of the love that awaits us, but we receive enough to encourage us on the journey.  The same is true of peace, joy, wisdom and knowledge as well as any number of the kingdom's treasure.

It has been my experience, that the Father does not give sparingly.  He gives more grace than I need so that I might have some to share with fellow sojourners.  His love is more than is needed so that the overflow might strengthen those who have fallen.  The abundance of joy and peace is meant to encourage those who may have lost their way.  And wisdom and knowledge are given to light the way for those who follow. 

    And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, 

He broke it and gave it to them, saying,
"This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me."
And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.

Grace Visualized

A true story.  One day a son asks his father: "Daddy, will you run the marathon with me?" The father answers yes, and both run their first marathon together. One day, the son asks his father if he wants to run the marathon with him again and the father answers yes. They both run the marathon together again. Then one day the son asks his father, "Daddy, will you run the Ironman with me?" (the Ironman is the toughest...it requires a 4km swim, 180km biking and 42km running). The father says yes again. This all sounds easy...but check this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qn3cDe-5A2Q

I have watched this video so many times, and each time it brings tears to my eyes.  Certainly, I am touched by the love this man has for his son, and I wish I could be that kind of a father.  I am touched by the dedication, and I am amazed at the commitment.  And, I am sure, that explains a few of the tears.

As I watched it just a moment ago, however, I realized that there is another reason for the tears.  This video captures the idea of grace completely.  There are times when I feel as if I'm running this race of life pretty well.  There are other times, when I realize that I'm not running it very well.  Either way, however, when I describe it, I describe it as me running.

When I look back at the race somewhere in eternity, I am convinced it will look more like this video than any description I give it now.  A loving father running for a son who cannot run.  That is grace, and that also brings tears.


For more on Team Hoyt check out the following link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64A_AJjj8M4&feature=related

Bono, Christ, and Grace

I listened to a wonderful John Piper sermon this week.  Actually, I listened to several of them, and I would highly recommend him to anyone who has tired of the self-help, ego-boosting sermons that make scripture more about the creature than the glorification of the Creator.  The man certainly has eternity and the exaltation of the Father stamped on his heart.  But I did not come here to praise Piper, I came here to steal a quote. 

Piper quoted Paul David Hewson, who is better known as U2's lead vocalist Bono.  The quote came from the book, Bono: In Converstation with Michka Assavas, and in it one can certainly see the classic notion of C.S. Lewis that Jesus must be either “Liar, Lunatic or Lord” (from Mere Christianity). Here the quote from page 227 of the book:

"Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: he was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to say along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammad, Buddha, or Confucius.   But actually Christ doesn't allow you that. He doesn't let you off that hook. Christ says:."

 "No.  I'm not saying I'm a teacher, don't call me teacher.

I'm not saying I'm a prophet.  .I'm saying: "I'm the Messiah."

I'm saying: "I am God incarnate."   And people say: No, no, please, just be a prophet.  A prophet, we can take.  You're a bit eccentric.

We've had John the Baptist eating locusts and wild honey, we can handle that. But don't mention the "M" word!   Because, you know, we're gonna have to crucify you."

" And he goes:  No, no.  I know you're expecting me to come back with an army, and set you free from these creeps, but actually I am the Messiah. At this point, everyone starts staring at their shoes, and says:  Oh, my God, he's gonna keep saying this.  So what you're left with is: either Christ was who He said He was, the Messiah, or a complete nutcase.  I mean, we're talking nutcase on the level of Charles Manson. . . . I'm not joking here. The idea that the entire course of civilization for over half of the globe could have its fate changed and turned upside-down by a nutcase...for me, that's farfetched."

I thought that was an interesting quote from an unexpected source, and so I checked out more of the interview.  I must say that I found another quote that I found equally as interesting.  Bono tells the interviewer:

(The concept of grace) is a "mind blowing concept...that keeps me on my knees.   At the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics-in physical laws....every action is met by an equal or an opposite one."

"And yet,  along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that.... I'd be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge...It doesn't excuse my mistakes....but I'm holding out for Grace.  I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don't have to depend on my own religiosity.".

"The point of the death of Christ is that Christ took on the sins of the world, so that what we put out did not come back to us, and that our sinful nature does not reap the obvious death.  It's not our own good works that get us through the gates of Heaven."

Now, I'm not here to praise Bono either...don't know much about him or U2....and I'm certainly not here to judge him.  I will say that the dude has a wonderful grasp of grace of Christ, and I thought it was worth sharing.

The Joy of Coloring

I have been mulling over a Mike Yaconelli quote for the past few days.  It's from his book, "Dangerous Wonder," and it reminded me of a letter I wrote years ago to a close friend, who later became my wife.  Thought I would rewrite parts of it and post it on here.

“Christianity is not about learning how to live within the lines; Christianity is about the joy of coloring. The grace of God is preposterous enough to accept as beautiful a coloring that anyone else would reject as ugly. The grace of God sees beyond the scribbling to the heart of the scribbler...a scribbler who is similar to two thieves who hung on crosses on either side of Jesus. One of the two asked Jesus to please accept his scribbled and sloppy life into the kingdom of God...
And He did.  Preposterous.

And very good news for the rest of us scribblers.”
Mike Yaconelli, (Dangerous Wonder)

Whether we are satisfied with it or not, we have all painted something on the landscape that is our life.  To be sure, if I could pick up a brush and repaint my canvas, there would be things that I would paint over.  There would be things I would cover with white, and repaint with rich and full colors.  I would use shades seldom seen, and combinations of texture never used.  I might use oil, or I might use watercolor, but there would be some changes on a very average work of art.

But we can't repaint, and what's been painted has been painted.  All that really remains is to finish the mural.  And so I stand, brush in hand, before the canvas.  Every color is available to me.  Every texture is right before me.  My mind is alive to the array of possibilities that can be woven in.

My fingers are poised for strokes that will not come. The colors run together in my mind, and the textures don't seem quite right.  And the possibilities.  The possibilities stagger and confuse an overwhelmed soul.  What I want to be sunrise and sunset can seemingly only be shades of yellow and orange running through the plain back round.

Voices from the past scream for shades of gray, and lines that have been drawn before.  Well meaning friends encourage me to use their colors, and designs that have seemingly worked for them. The enemy whispers that there really is no need to put color to canvas, but the urge deep within will not be quieted.  

Behind me stands the Master artist.  Years ago, ultimate control of the brush was yielded to him.  At times I have carelessly splashed the paint, and he has patiently restored it with a color only he can create.  Amazingly, he turns carelessness into beauty, and disaster into a work of grace.   To the delight of the Master, there have been times I have covered the canvas with bold, colorful strokes that slipped outside the lines of tradition.  I remember the feeling of his pleasure more than the ridicule of my fellow artists. 

The time has come to apply the finishing strokes, and I am uncertain as to what should be painted.  I grip the brush tighter as the Master patiently waits.  He sees the finished Masterpiece, for it has been his painting it all along.  He has covered the flaws.  He has directed my hand when I was certain of the stroke, and he has directed it when I was completely uncertain.  He has turned scribbles into grandeur.  He has chosen the colors and the textures.  He has allowed me to paint, for there is joy in painting, but he has made certain the Masterpiece for that is what he desires and it is what he does.

He is the Master and, ultimately, the work is his.  When the work is complete, he will hang it with his other works of art.  Like all of the pieces, it will be uniquely beautiful, it will reflect his glory, and it's value will be in the touch of the Master.  

You see, for while in kindness he allowed me to paint, his hand continually worked to perfect it for his glory.  And, in the end, I am convinced that both the scribbling student and the Master will be satisfied.    

But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, 

and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption,
 So that, just as it is written, "LET HIM WHO BOASTS, BOAST IN THE LORD." 

(1 Corinthians 1:30-31 NAS)

--

Tiger Blood and Adonis DNA

This past week I have been forced to take an honestly brutal look at myself, evaluate the available data, and confess the results of the assessment. It is certainly not my goal to disappoint or hurt anyone, but rather to merely state what I have discovered. My wife will be shocked, and my children disappointed, but it needs to be done.

Are you ready for this?

Well, the truth is, I do not have, "Tiger blood and Adonis DNA." There it is. It's out there. I knew you would be disquieted, and I can sense the aghast in the stunned silence. I was surprised at the conclusion myself. Quite frankly, now that I have said it out loud, it feels as if a load has been lifted.

Fortunately, with that truth came another. What I lack in tiger blood and Adonis DNA is more than made up for by what I do possess.

You see, Charlie may fantasize about being endowed with tiger blood, but in complete reality I have the blood of Jesus Christ to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Charlie's tiger blood may make him fierce as he battles life, but Christ's blood claims me, and makes me righteous before a perfectly holy God. It gives me life.

Charlie may envision a world in which he can trace his lineage to the Greek god Adonis, while I know with a certainty that my lineage is traced through Christ to Adonai....Yahweh...Elohim....the only true God. The creator and ruler of all things is my Father.

I am made righteous through the blood of Christ, and the sustainer of the cosmos is my Father. I'll take that over tiger blood and Adonis DNA any day. And, in the end, I pray that Charlie comes to that realization as well.