When You Give

I was at that fragile point between wakefulness and sleep one night over two decades ago when, out of the blue, the question went through my mind, “Why ten percent?”  Now, to be clear, I wasn’t thinking about tithing, I had never had an issue with tithing, and I have absolutely no idea where the question originated from, but there it was none-the-less.  Why ten percent?  Why not five percent or twelve percent or eighteen percent?  Was God considering ease of calculation for his less than brilliant followers?  Had he done some divine bookkeeping and determined that to keep operations afloat in the universe he created from nothing was going to require ten percent from each of the people that would follow him?  Was it a good number to test his people’s commitment?  Maybe there was something cosmically symbolic about the number ten.

In full disclosure those last thoughts did not really go through my mind, just the quick, “Why ten percent?”  And as quickly as the question made its appearance, the answer followed.  I am serious.  I saw the explanation before I had time to even begin to analyze the origin of the question.  Does that make sense?  Normally, a person asks why something is the way that it is, then thinks it over, studies it, and perhaps arrives at a conclusion.  On this night I, for no apparent reason, asked why God told Moses to institute the tithe for the people of Israel, saw the reason, and then spent the time before I fell asleep contemplating the logic behind what appeared to me to be the reason.  The answer to the question I had no intention of asking is simple, practical and has altered my thoughts and habits in regard to my giving.

For over twenty years this late night revelation has been my personal guide to giving, and I have shared it with a few people, but have never taught or preached on the concept.  Then a couple of days ago, I read an article in the Christian Post concerning a well known pastor renouncing the practice of tithing. You can find the article here.  I also read the op-ed article from the Gospel Coalition referenced in the article.  The op-ed article can be found here. After reading these article I decided to share what I saw when I asked the question. "Why ten percent?" 

I need to preface this by saying that I agree with the author of the op-ed article that this is not a topic that should cause any believer to break fellowship with another believer.  Also, I do not claim to be a bible scholar or theologian and I only offer the answer that came to me when I asked, “Why ten percent?”  One of the first people I shared this with was someone who was very close to me, and he responded by saying, without trying to be condescending, “That makes a lot of sense.  We should run it past someone who knows something about it.”  True story.  It was true then, and it is true today.  So I encourage you to ask the question I asked, study what the Word of God has to say about it, and be open to what the Holy Spirit might be showing you.

Whenever I share this with people, I also preface it by saying that I believe that Christians are called to be the most giving people in the world.  We are called to feed and clothe the poor, we are responsible to support our pastors and churches, and we are called to give wherever and whenever the Holy Spirit puts it on our hearts.   

“Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”  2 Corinthians 9:7 (ESV)

So I asked the question, and here’s what I saw.  I say that I saw it because it was more of a visual concept than actual words.  The explanation of the concept required researching God’s Word for scripture to put form to the concept.  Hopefully, what follows will be that form.

Here’s what God told Moses about tithing when he was receiving the law on Mount Sinai:

Every tithe of the land, whether of the seed of the land or of the fruit of the trees, is the LORD’s; it is holy to the LORD.  If a man wishes to redeem some of his tithe, he shall add a fifth to it. And every tithe of herds and flocks, every tenth animal of all that pass under the herdsman’s staff, shall be holy to the LORD.   Leviticus 27:30-32 (ESV) 

A couple of things to note about this general tithe demanded of the people.  There were other tithes for festivals and giving to the poor, but this was the general tithe imposed in the law.  There is much debate about how the tithes fit together and the total percentage of what was produced was actually given to God.  But the principle for new testament tithing is based on this general tithe.  This tithe (literally one tenth) commanded of the nation of Israel was of all of the crops and livestock that the land produced.  If you became a fisherman in the promised land, you would not have to tithe on the fish you caught.  If you hired yourself out to herd another person's sheep, you would not have to pay a tithe on the wages you earned.  If you were a craftsman or a carpenter, you would not pay a tithe on the profit you made from plying your trade.  The tithe was on the what grew from the ground on the land, what came off the trees of the land, and the livestock that was raised on the land.  Nothing else.  This is important.  Why was the tithe on the produce of the land only?  Why wasn’t it imposed on fishermen, or sheep herders, or craftsmen, or carpenters?  I will address that question later.

You may recall that the sons of Levi, the Levites, were not to receive an inheritance of land in the promised land.

Therefore Levi has no portion or inheritance with his brothers. The LORD is his inheritance, as the LORD your God said to him.  Deuteronomy 10:9 (ESV) 
 
So, when Israel entered the promised land it was divided into twelve portions.  Ten for each of the tribes of the sons of Jacob (Israel), and two for the half tribes of Joseph (Ephraim and Manasseh) as shown in the chart below.  The tribe of Levi was not given an inheritance in the land, but the Lord himself was to be considered  their inheritance.  Of the tribe of Levi, God ordained that the sons of Aaron would be priests to minister before him while the remaining Levites would take care of the tabernacle and, later, the temple.  They would also serve as aides to the priests in the preparation of sacrifices, and were musicians, singers, and door keepers for the house of God.

Now, watch what happens.  In Numbers, God tells the people what he plans to do with the general tithe he required of them in Leviticus.
 

To the Levites I have given every tithe in Israel for an inheritance, in return for their service that they do, their service in the tent of meeting, so that the people of Israel do not come near the tent of meeting, lest they bear sin and die.   Numbers 18:21-22 (ESV)  

God says, the tithe that I am requiring of you, I am giving to the Levites for their service.  This is where the answer to, “Why ten percent?” begins to make sense, and why it is not just some arbitrary number.  God said that the tribe of Levi would not have an inheritance of land in the land he was giving them, but he set up a system by which they would have an inheritance of what the land produced.  That is why God chose ten as the percentage the land owning tribes would be required to give.

Let me show you how it works.  For convenience sake, and to accommodate my limited math skills, lets say that during the wheat harvest, each tribe produced 100 bushels of wheat on the land they inherited.  Obviously, each tribe would produce much more than 100 bushels, and the tribes would produce varying amounts of wheat, but this demonstrates the principle.  The following chart shows how the 100 bushels of wheat would be dispersed.

Tribe

Bushels of wheat raised

Bushels of wheat tithed

Bushels of wheat kept

Simeon

100

10

90

Judah

100

10

90

Issachar

100

10

90

Zebulun

100

10

90

Dan

100

10

90

Naphtali

100

10

90

Gad

100

10

90

Asher

100

10

90

Ephraim (half tribe of Joseph)

100

10

90

Manasseh (half tribe of Joseph)

100

10

90

Benjamin Reuben

100 100

10 10

90 10

Tithe      received by Levi

120

As demonstrated by this marvelous table, for every hundred bushels of wheat raised by each tribe, ten bushels would be given as tithe, and ninety bushels kept for their own use.  The tribe of Levi would receive one hundred and twenty bushels through the tithes of the land owning tribes. We are not through with our calculations yet, because the people of the tribe of Levi still had to tithe.
 

And the LORD spoke to Moses, saying, “Moreover, you shall speak and say to the Levites, ‘When you take from the people of Israel the tithe that I have given you from them for your inheritance, then you shall present a contribution from it to the LORD, a tithe of the tithe.  Numbers 18:25-26 (ESV)

So you shall also present a contribution to the LORD from all your tithes, which you receive from the people of Israel. And from it you shall give the LORD’s contribution to Aaron the priest.  Numbers 18:28 (ESV)
 

The priests (the sons of Aaron) obtained food from the sacrifices that were offered to God in the tabernacle or the temple.  (Numbers 18: 8-18)  This was also supplemented by the Levites offering their tithe of the tithe they received from the other tribes.  Once the temple was built, Levites would travel from their cities to take turns serving in the temple.  This tithe of the tithe, was brought into the storehouse in the temple to support the priests and the Levites as they served in the temple.  (Nehemiah 10:38,  Malachi 3:10)   (There is much that could be said about the common practice of using Malachi 3:8 to accuse Christians of robbing God by not tithing, but that is not for today.  I will point out that he was speaking specifically about bringing the whole tithe into the storehouse, and the only tithe that was brought into the storehouse was the Levite’s tithe of the tithe.)

So, in our simplified example, the Levites have 120 bushels of wheat, and each of the other tribes have 90 bushels of wheat.  The people of Levi still have to tithe off of their tithe to Aaron (the priests for the storehouse)  Of their 120 bushels they would have to tithe 12 bushels to Aaron, and take it to the temple storehouse.  That would leave them with 108 bushels.
 
We will come back to this, but let me tell you what I am suggesting.  What it was that I saw when I asked, “Why ten percent?”  I believe that God chose the tithe (ten percent), because that was the number which would evenly divide the produce of the land between the tribes with land and the Levites.  Anything less and the Levites would have received less than the other tribes.  Anything more, and they would of received more than the other tribes.  Just because God did not give the Levites an inheritance of land in the promised land, does not mean that he did not intend for them to share in its bounty.  Ten was the number that allowed them to equally share in everything the land of milk and honey had to offer.

Do you see why this also explains why God did not require a tithe off of fish that were harvested, or a tithe off of what a man might earn by herding sheep, or working as a carpenter or by making money by some other means?  It seems to me that if the Father’s purpose were to build up a treasury, or for each person to contribute something, it would have been quite easy to set up a simple, across the board, tithe on everyone’s income.  But he didn’t. Tithe was only required off of what came off the land.  The Levite would not have a right to that which came out of the sea, or from what a man earned from his labor.  It was not a matter of income, but an issue of what was produced on the land.   

But you will say, in our example the Levites ended up with 108 bushels of wheat and the other tribes each had 90.  I offer a couple of explanations for this.  
 
First, while God has always been concerned for the poor, the widows, the fatherless, and the aliens in the land and encouraged all tribes to care for them, the bulk of the responsibility fell to the Levites. God may have allotted extra for them to meet those needs.  Every third year a tithe was collected specifically for the Levites and the poor, but I would suggest the possibility that this was also being allowed for in the calculation of the general tithe.

As I have considered this, I have come to another conclusion as to why the numbers slightly favor the Levites.  What the other tribes received from the land was completely dependent on God.  He provided the sun and the rain to grow the crops.  He allowed the herds and flocks to increase.  There was no middle man.  God brought the increase for the land owning tribes.  The Levites, however, had a middle man.  I am referring to the individual members of the land owning tribes.  God tells us that he knows the heart of man and, I believe, he knew that greed and selfishness would make its way into this system of distributing the produce of the land.  He knew that, while many would be faithful in bringing in the full tithe, some would be inclined to fudge the numbers of what the land produced.  Some might “forget” to tithe on a couple of fields, or might take the eleventh or twelfth animal to give rather than the tenth when tithing their livestock.  I would suggest that God allowed for this when he established the tithe.
 
I do understand that there will be those who will say that Abraham tithed to Melchizedek, and that Jacob pledged a tithe to God.  All I will say is that, it seems to me, that it is much more likely that this would be a precedent for the people of Israel entering the promised land, than it would be a principle for giving under the new covenant.

It also seems to me that the apostles agreed as well.  When asked what requirements should be placed on gentile believers, certain converts who were former Pharisees were demanding that they be circumcised and required to follow the law.  Peter stood up and said, “Now, therefore, why are you putting God to the test by placing a yoke on the neck of the disciples that neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?” Acts 15:10 (ESV)   In the end, when they could have told them that they needed to tithe, they did not.  (Acts 15)

Then consider Paul.  A man who had a heart for the poor.  A man who understood the law, and explained to the church how they were no longer under the law, but under grace.  This man, who strongly encouraged believers to be generous givers, never put them under the burden of the tithe.  He encouraged them to give joyfully, generously, not under compulsion or reluctantly, in proportion to what they had, and according to what God had placed on their hearts. (2 Corinthians 9:7, 1 Corinthians 16:2)  Paul encouraged bountiful giving without putting believers under the law of the tithe. 
 
Friend, that is my goal in sharing this.  Give whatever, whenever, and wherever the Holy Spirit puts it on your heart to give.  Our Father will honor your faithfulness.  He will bless your obedience.  If the Holy Spirit has placed giving ten percent of your income to kingdom work, then joyfully offer it up as an act of worship.  If he tells you to give more than ten percent, then rejoice in the knowledge that he has blessed you to be able to give more.  We are called to be givers.  Just never allow yourself to be brought under condemnation for not tithing.  Never feel that you are robbing God if your circumstances do not allow for you to give ten percent of your income.

Give where you can, when you can, and as God leads you to give.  You are not under any part of the law, but you are particularly not bound by God’s formula that provided for the tribe of Levi to receive their portion of what the promised land yielded.

Spiritual Stones

Winding along the eastern boundary of Minnesota, in some spots with powerful rapids and in others without a ripple, is the Kettle River.  The role of this river in creation was, in my opinion, twofold.  First, it was created to drain the water that accumulates along it’s eighty-three mile course into the St. Croix river which, in turn, carries it to the Mississippi river and ultimately into the Gulf of Mexico.

God’s second purpose in creating this river was....and I say this humbly, but with a certain degree of certainty...his second purpose in creating it was to give it to me.  I do not claim the whole river as mine but, I am convinced, that a five or six mile stretch was carved by the finger of the Creator for me.  This section that I have declared as mine was claimed as one of the world’s most perfect playgrounds by countless kids who grew up along its banks.  The cliffs along the river were arranged as a massive jungle gym.  It’s as if the trees that bring beauty to the river’s banks were constructed to be climbed, created forests to be explored and provided the material for forts to be built.  The river itself was the perfect swimming pool as well as the ideal place to idle away an afternoon sitting on its banks with a Zebco rod and reel trying to catch fish.

As mentioned, generations of kids would claim the Kettle River as their own.  While I would be among  that group, my rationale for God creating this particular section of the river for me  comes from my adult years.  It is along the muddy waters of that river where I have had some of my deepest and most intimate times of fellowship with the God of creation.  It is in that place, more than any other, that God becomes Abba to me.  It is there, among the beauty and solitude, that my spirit touches the fringes of eternity and God’s Spirit touches the deepest part of my being.  I have written before of the request I have made to the Father that I be put in charge of these few miles of the Kettle River when this era ends but I leave that in His hands. (Lessons from Abby and Hunter)

It is along this river where, more than a century ago, sandstone rock was quarried and used to construct buildings locally as well as around the state.  Workers would carve the stone from cliffs surrounding the river, cut them into slabs and ship them via train to wherever they were needed.  Once at the building site, stone masons would contour and mold the stones to fit properly together, and construct extremely solid and durable structures.  Even the base of the Minnesota State capital was built from sandstone rock taken from this particular quarry.

As I walk this stretch of river, I pass rock that was cut and prepared for transport probably fifty years before I was born but, for one reason or another, never made it out of the quarry.  These stones have sat for decades waiting to be used in buildings that will never be built.

As I walked past piles of these unused slabs of sandstone rock last fall, I was reminded of the rock used to build the temple King David designed and King Solomon built.  I think of the stones that were used to build God’s house in Jerusalem, and recall the scripture which describes the treatment of those stones:

“When the house was built, it was with stone prepared at the quarry, so that neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron was heard in the house while it was being built” 1 Kings 6:7 (ESV) 

The painstaking work that must have gone into the preparation of these special stones is awe inspiring.  In the quarry, they were carefully chosen, chiseled, molded and formed to perfectly fit together.  Some would be part of the wall, some used as arches, some foundational and others would perform various functions in this temple designed by King David.

The stonecutter went to the mountain where he would cut out huge chunks of rock from the quarry.  Then, using King David’s plan, he would begin to strike the blob of stone with a hammer, crudely forming the desired shape.  Perhaps he used other iron tools and instruments to mold and form the rock into the precise shape it needed to be to fulfill its role in the construction of the temple.  When the ringing of the hammer and chisel had quieted.  When the last sounds of the final bits of molding gave way to silence, the stone was carried to the temple, and perfectly fit into the area it was designed to fill.

My mind then wandered to the Apostle Peter’s words:

 “As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.   For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”   

1 Peter 2:4-6 (ESV)

I do not know what my Father’s heavenly temple will look like, but he has had the design from eternity, and in that I find rest.  I rest, as well, in the assurance that I am one of his living stones being prepared for my Abba’s spiritual house.  I realize that as I walk through this life, I am walking through the Creator’s quarry.  And I find peace among the noise of life knowing that, like a skilled stonecutter, He is chiseling and molding me into a living stone that will fit perfectly into his eternal spiritual house.

So I trust myself to the Master Stonecutter, longing for the day when the noise of the chiseling grows dimmer, and the sound of the molding gives way to silence.  The day when my time in this quarry will end, and I will be carried to my Father’s heavenly temple, and perfectly fit into the area I was designed to fill.

Wonder In The Wandering

“For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?  But we have the mind of Christ.”  1 Corinthians 2:16

In a sense, it seems like a contradiction, doesn’t it?  In quoting from Isaiah, Paul makes the argument that no one can begin to truly understand or completely comprehend the plans, feelings, views and designs of God.  At the same time, the one who belongs to Christ, and is led by his Spirit, shares the views, feelings, and purposes of Christ.  So, while we are in the flesh, it is not possible for man to fully understand God’s nature but, through Christ, His nature can be revealed through us.

I mention this because my mind has been wandering again.  As I sit in the quietness, I have spent time dwelling on everything from the creation of all things to the crucifixion of the one who created all things.

This type of contemplation is not an attempt to understand the “hows" and the “whys” of the Father, but rather it is an exercise that draws me into the vastness of the God I serve.  It allows my soul to begin to touch the immenseness of the Father who has chosen me, with all my faults and imperfections, all my blemishes and scars, and whispered in my ear, “I am Abba.  You belong to me.”  And, it is there, in the stillness, pondering the awesome grandeur of all he has done, that I begin to see more of the glory of my Father.  I begin to see more of the perfection of his plan and his purposes.  

It is in that place, not understanding, but lost in the vastness of the glory, plan and purposes of the Father, I begin to see beauty.  I begin to experience the beauty of everything that is God.  In the end, Jonathan Edwards would argue, that is the goal of the Christian life, “To enjoy and reflect the beauty of God.” 

In these all too rare moments, when my soul is captivated by the shear immenseness of all things and the beauty of my Lord, there is complete contentment.  There is remarkable peace.  There is indescribable tranquility.  They are instants in time which provide glimpses of future glory when time will be no more.  They are occasions of prayer without words.  Praise without sound.  Worship that bows my soul in silence before my Abba. 

It is here that I relate to King David’s greatest desire and his passionate request :

One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.   Psalm 27:4 (ESV) 

God is holy, to be sure.  His love is faultless, and his plans and purposes flawless.  His glory, reflected in all things, is indescribable.  Every attribute of God is perfect in perfection.  But, in eternity, when we gaze on the infinite divine virtues that make the Father who He is, we will see beauty.  And, we will spend eternity gazing upon the sheer, continually increasing beauty that flows from our Abba.  Our delight will be in him and him alone. 

In these all to short times of silent prayer, my soul touches the outermost fringe of that beauty...that delight...and cries with deep longing, “Come, Lord Jesus!” 

But I digress.  Here’s where my mind has been wandering the past couple of weeks.  Christmas is past, but I find myself still captivated by the thought of God stepping from glory to humanity and placing himself, as a helpless little baby, in the hands of man.    
 
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.  All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made”. John 1:1-3 (ESV)

And:

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.  John 1:14 (ESV)  

My meditation has been on two thoughts from these verses.  First, this Word, who both was with God and was God, created all things.  And second, this Word somehow took on human form and dwelt with man.

Having the Spirit of God in me causes every part of my being to cry out that these words are true.  And, with my mind, I can, in a very minute way, understand what this is saying.  But I am not able to picture what this would even begin to look like.  My mind cannot come close to grasping how it is remotely possible for the Word to create everything from nothing.  In fact, I cannot begin to imagine what nothing would even look like.  It’s a God dimension thing that doesn’t translate into my three dimensional world view.

The same is true of the Word becoming flesh.  I get it.  I even celebrate Christmas every year.  But picturing how that happens in three dimensional terms is just not possible.

But the Father gives me the freedom to wonder.  He allows me to take my three dimensional view, and try to wander in God dimensional territory.  That is often where I get trapped in the vastness of God, and begin to sit transfixed, gazing on his beauty.

I wonder about the Word designing the perfect ecosystem on this blessed planet.  Everything about it had to be perfect to support the life he was going to create on it. 

But, I wonder, when he created trees to gather energy from the sun and designed them to also convert the carbon dioxide that animal life would exhale into oxygen for that same life to inhale....when he created those trees, did he picture one of them cut into beams, and formed into a cross, in order to crucify the flesh he was going to become?

When he added thorn bushes to his perfect ecosystem, did he look toward the day when one of them would be used to form a crown of mockery that would be jammed onto the head of the flesh he was going to become?

When flax became part of his creation, part of the unique biosphere, did he envision the linen that would come from it be made into the garments that would be gambled for at the foot of the cross he would suffer on, or the robe that Herod would place on him to ridicule him?  Did he see the flesh he was going to become being placed, broken, battered, beaten, and lifeless into the shroud of linen made from the seed of the flax he was creating?

When the Word placed iron ore into the ground of the favored planet, did he visualize the day it would be taken from the ground, smelted, and made into steel that would form the nails that would hold the flesh he would become to the cross made from the tree he created?  Did he imagine the same steel being formed into the hammer that would pound the nails through his hands and feet into the cold beams?  Did he think of the steel that would form the spearhead of the spear that would pierce the side of the flesh that he would become?

There are so many things.

When the Word created man from the dust, and sent life giving blood pumping through his body, did he think of the future day when he would become flesh, and the life giving blood would drip from his body?  When he gave him nerves to feel, and sense pain, did he imagine the pain that would be inflicted on him when he became flesh?  When he gave man a body of flesh, did he anticipate the day the nails would be driven into his hands and feet?  Or the moment the spear would pierce the flesh of his side?

There are, obviously, no answers to these questions, for they belong to God’s dimension alone.  But, I consider them, not for answers, but because they take me to that place of the vastness of God.  And from there, it is a short trip to beholding his beauty.  And then just a small step to delighting in that beauty.  And, for now, that is more than enough.  For in that place, I become keenly aware that, while I may not know everything the Word was thinking when he spun things into existence, His Spirit bears witness to my spirit, that he was thinking of me.  And, in that there is rest.      


  

 

Good Friday

One hill.  Three crosses.  Three men, caught in the Roman justice system, hanging on them.

And the Roman empire knew how to conduct a crucifixion: a lingering death, designed not only to maximize suffering, but to completely humiliate at the same time.  Once on the cross, nails through the wrists and feet would have pierced major nerves causing immediate, severe, radiating pain through the arms and legs. More than likely, the weight of the body on the arms would have caused dislocation of the shoulders or elbows.   And that's merely the beginning.

From the start, any movement would cause pain.  Fresh wounds from the scourging would rub against the rough wood of the cross causing torment with each slight shift of the body.  Through most of the ordeal, the victim's weight would be on his feet with the chest leaning forward placing maximum strain on the arms and dislocated shoulders.  As the arms began to fatigue, the cramps would begin.  Muscles would begin to knot causing relentlessly deep, throbbing pain.

But it gets worse.  Whether by design or accident, the pain of crucifixion was maximized with every breath.  As mentioned, the victim would lean forward with his weight centered on his feet.  From this position, he would be able to inhale, but he was not able to exhale.  Even to get one little breath, the victim would have to struggle to raise himself on nail pierced feet just to expel the air in his lungs.  He would then slump forward again until the body demanded oxygen.  Every breath would be an exercise in excruciating pain reverberating through the whole body.

One hill.  Three crosses.  And three men hanging on them.

The men on the end crosses were convicted thief's.  The one hanging on the middle cross was slightly more controversial.  Jewish leaders considered him a blasphemer, a threat to their religion.  Roman leaders considered him an inconvenience.  The man himself claimed to be not only the long awaited Messiah, but the very Son of God.

Just a little side note.  The same choices are before us two thousand years later, for any who will consider him.  He either was a blasphemer, a man who will threaten the religious.  Or he's merely an inconvenience, something to explain away whenever we hear his name.  Or he was the Messiah, the Son of God.

The man on the middle cross, this Jesus, pushed himself up and exhaled.  He slumped forward, drew a breath and spoke.  He spoke to his Father on behalf of the Jewish and Roman leaders who had sentenced him to hang on that cross.  He spoke on behalf of the centurion's who had pounded in the spikes, and were now gambling for his clothes.  "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."

Through a fog of pain, one of the thief's listened in amazement.  Why isn't this man screaming his innocence? 

Why isn't he demanding justice or vengeance? 

Why, of all things, does he ask that God forgive those who have done these horrendous things to him? 

The thief, more than anyone on that hill, knew the agony the man on the middle cross is enduring.  And yet he sees the peace. 

He sees the acceptance. 

He sees the determination.

The thief considers the options that have faced every person since that horrendous Friday afternoon....that day when man destroyed the most beautiful and perfect thing to ever walk this earth.  He considers the options, and turns to Jesus with one humble request.  "Please remember me." 

He doesn't ask to be delivered from pain. 

He doesn't plead to live. 

He's not after wealth or prosperity or glory. 

He asks for one thing....only to be remembered.

One simple request.  And one marvelous response.  The Messiah turns to the man and, I believe, with compassion in his eyes speaks the words, "This day you will be with me in Paradise." 

A beautiful promise of forgiveness.
 
A promise of hope and peace. 

A man who, by his own admission, was thoroughly guilty. A man with no redeeming quality in him, dares to utter one humble request.  But he utters it to the one with every redeeming quality.  With his final breaths he trusted the man on the middle cross, and that made all the difference.

That is the gospel in its most gruesome and beautiful form.  A horrendous death paving the way for a life of hope and purpose for those who consider the options and, like the thief on the cross, trust the crucified redeemer.

And, as we pause to remember the brutal death of the Messiah, we remember the fact that, "It's only Friday...Sunday's coming." 

Random Christmas Thoughts

With deafening silence, the snow covered the dregs of a long summer and a short fall. The strong breath of winter fought the determination of the few remaining leaves, as they fiercely battled their inevitable plunge into the deepening whiteness. Indeed, it was a losing struggle, as the green, lush, life of summer gave way to the cold, white, death of winter. The earth tilted on its axis, slowly spinning its way to the dark side of the sun, and as it has for as long as the generations of man can recall, changed the scene for the inhabitants of this lonely planet.

Indeed, the motion of these heavenly bodies alter the scenes, and each passing year opens a new act, but for a mere wisp of time, the players and the actors remain the same. With each trip around the sun, the stage we call earth loses a few of the actors, but they are soon replaced, and the new performers play the role as well, or better than the ones who have left, and thus, the play continues.

Huddled around the fire in the ancient log house, I watched the man stoke his fire, then his pipe, before he poured a measure of whiskey into his coffee cup. His age was unknown, perhaps even to himself, but the grizzled growth on his face and the shoulder length white hair, spoke of many years past eighty. The eyes revealed the wisdom of those years, while the mind was as agile as the most prominent physician.

He offered me coffee and I accepted, but as he lifted the bottle, I shook my head with the explanation, “I'm a Christian, you see.”

“Ah, I am sorry, I did not understand, “ he said with a smile, as he replaced the stopper and set the bottle on the floor between us. The smile brought out the wrinkle lines of laughter around his eyes and at the corners of his lips. Lines from years of laughing at the joys as well as mourning the sorrows and pain only this life can bring.

The white-haired old man was considered strange by the village actors. For as long as the people of the community could remember, he had lived in his tiny log cabin on the side of the mountain, with nature and solitude as his sole companions. He often came to the village and watched the activity with his distinctive smile, and always returned to the mountain shaking his head in amused bewilderment. While the consensus of the village was that he was truly a bizarre sort of person, I was intrigued with his unique personality. He was in church quite often, and always sat quietly in the back row listening intently, although he seldom spoke. When there was a need in the community he was among the first to respond, and yet, the thespians of our small region spent large amounts of time ridiculing this aged man who shared his fire with me.

Logs crackled on the grate, the storm blew at the shutters, and the snow continued to fall. The old man and I sat in the warmth of the comfortable silence, me sipping my coffee, while he enjoyed the mixture in his cup. It was the Christmas Eve of my sixtieth year, and I had determined to find the meaning behind the acting and the reason for the performance.

In the village, the players were preparing to act their parts. Some were walking through bar doors, others through church doors, and still others were sitting quietly at home. Most of them, truth be told, were using the joy of the season to cover the quiet desperation of the life that dwelt beneath the veil of the actor. Granted, I probably should have been seeking answers from inside the doors of my church rather than from this eccentric recluse, but something had drawn me to him on this, my sixtieth Christmas Eve. For the whole of my fifth decade, I had evaluated the people of the village one by one, and had reached the conclusion that the man from the mountain was the most satisfied and content person in our little world. He was also the most real....the most alive....and I was determined to find his secret before another year had passed.

Minutes in the cabin became an hour before I was able to begin my inquiry. With our feet stretched toward the hungry flame, we talked the small talk of strangers as the wind brought us the chords of many voices singing, “Come Let Us Adore Him,” from the church below. “Joy to the World,” and, “What Child is This,” followed before I was able to form the question. During the final verse of, “Silent Night,” I quietly whispered, “My friend, what is your secret?”

His smile grew wider and the laugh lines clearer as he stared at the leaping flames before us. “My secret for what?” he asked, without turning his eyes from the blaze.

“For the peace you have, for the quiet joy, for the contentment the rest of us pretend to have. You are most satisfied person I have ever known, and I need to know the reason for it. I need to know the secret!” The words poured from me with a power of their own as I laid my desire before him.

“Tomorrow is Christmas, and we celebrate God coming to our planet in the form of a helpless little baby,” he began. “Contentment begins and ends with that child. It begins and ends with the Messiah, Jesus Christ....but you already know that. You're a leader in the church down there. You have heard it preached and taught for so many years that this is not a great revelation to you.”

“It's not! I am a Christian!” I nearly shouted at him in my frustration. “Many of the people down there are Christians, but the joy and contentment seems, so often, to be a show. They are merely actors playing the role of people at peace with themselves and their God. Don't you see! The masks change with every new audience, and what is authentic is slowly covered by layers of make up. With you, it's real....it's never a performance. You must have something we don't have. I need to know the secret.”

“Actually,” came the reply. “You have an ability I have never acquired. You learned to color within the lines.” The blank look on my face and my silence brought another smile to the ancient face as he tried to explain. “When you are very young and you color a picture it is acceptable to go outside of the lines. If you want a man with a purple face, you color the face purple. If you have a fancy for pink leaves, you make the leaves pink. If you want some of the color to go outside of the lines, you color outside of the lines. It's the pure joy and privilege of a child to color his picture any way he pleases. Is this not true?”

“It most certainly is true, “ I answered, trying to understand what a child coloring outside the lines of a picture had to do with tranquility. He saw my bewilderment, smiled again, and continued.

“When you reach a certain age, someone, perhaps a parent or teacher, explains to you that faces really are not purple, and it would be better to use flesh tones when doing a face. So, you begin using flesh colors on all your faces, and some of the joy of coloring is lost. Then someone else laughs at you for making your leaves pink, so you start coloring them green, while a little more of the delight of creating slips away from you. Finally, the day comes when you are told that in order for your work to be acceptable, you really need to color within the lines. Then, as you take pains to stay within the lines, all the pleasure is gone from the creation. I just never learned to color within the lines.”

My friend slowly rose from the chair and added another log to the fire, while I considered the words he had spoken. How could the coloring lessons of a child account for the contentment and joy that flowed through this man's life? I hesitated to ask, lest he think me slow, but I needed to understand, and when determination overcame my pride, I voiced the question.

Again, the patient smile and the gentle voice, “ I discovered at a young age that people, whether they be friends, relatives, or merely acquaintances, will usually desire that we color within the lines of their accepted behavior. Anything outside of their narrowly drawn lines constitutes a threat, and people do not deal well with anything that threatens them. They react with ridicule, contempt, scorn, and often times, violence toward anyone or anything that dares paint outside of the lines they have drawn. Early in life, I determined to accept the negative, rather than color within the lines of other people's prejudices and, for me, it has proven a good choice.”

“I have often seen you in church. The church provides us with lines we must stay within,” I reminded him.

“Correction.” came the reply. “This Baby, whose birth we are preparing to celebrate, provides us with the various colors and shades we have to work with; the bible you often carry with you, helps us define the lines and the shapes; And finally, God's Holy Spirit in our hearts shows us how the lines and colors of our picture are to fit together. Religion and theology often times limit us to the boundaries of that particular religion and its set of beliefs. It is, indeed, easier for us to stay within the confines of doctrine rather than seeking the boundaries God has set for the picture that is our life. Yes, it truly is easier. The danger of coloring within those lines, however, is becoming something less than what God has intended for us to be. Because of this, I refuse to be forced to color within any lines other that the lines given me by God through Jesus Christ and his Word as revealed to me by his Holy Spirit. To live any other way buries the person the Father created you to be underneath layers of colors and shapes thrust on you by the world. Most people go through life with their true identity, the person they were created to be, buried under expectations placed on them by friends, family, religion and life in general. Over the years, they become performers, playing a role placed on them by others that should never have been theirs.

“You realize, of course,” I couldn't help pointing out, “That the actors in the village consider you to be a rather strange and peculiar person,”

“I understand that and wholeheartedly expect it,” he said with a laugh that lit up his entire face. “I have always understood that there is a cost to coloring faces purple in a world that expects flesh tones, and there is a price to pay when you have a fondness for pink leaves in a green-leafed world. And, most definitely, you will be ridiculed when you color outside of the lines of the defined behavior of any society. I am of the opinion that this Child of Mary's never learned to color within the lines. He grew to an adult coloring outside of the conventional lines of religion, theology, and society. He used colors they never would have dreamed of using along with shapes they had never imagined, and because of that, He was nailed to a tree. Being judged strange and peculiar by a few petty people is rather mild by comparison, wouldn't you agree?”

With the fire slowly turning to embers, and the storm beginning to die, I sat in the warmth of the cabin, finishing my coffee, and contemplating his words. The midnight chimes of the village church stirred me from my meditation. My white-haired companion was asleep in his chair, the same peaceful smile on his face.

I drew a blanket to his chin and whispered, “Merry Christmas and thank you, old one.” Pulling on my coat, I stepped into the cold winter air and began my descent to the village below. I silently prayed that the layers of expectations I had allowed to be placed on me by others would be stripped away so that I might live out my years as the person the Creator made me to be. Sometime during that walk, I determined that in the year to come, I would definitely color a couple of faces purple, and a few leaves pink.....and, if I liked what I saw, I might even start coloring outside of the lines.

Creation and the Cross

“For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?  But we have the mind of Christ." 1 Corinthians 2:16

In a sense, it seems like a contradiction, doesn't it?  In quoting from Isaiah, Paul makes the argument that no one can begin to truly understand or completely comprehend the plans, feelings, views and designs of God.  At the same time, the one who belongs to Christ, and is led by his Spirit, shares the views, feelings, and purposes of Christ.  So, while we are in the flesh, it is not possible for man to fully understand God's nature but, through Christ, His nature can be revealed through us.

I mention this because my mind has been wandering again.  As I sit in the quietness, I have spent time dwelling on everything from the creation of all things to the crucifixion of the one who created all things.

This type of contemplation is not an attempt to understand the, "hows' and the "whys," of the the Father, but rather it is an exercise that draws me into the vastness of the God I serve.  It allows my soul to begin to touch the immenseness of the Father who has chosen me, with all my faults and imperfections, all my blemishes and scars, and whispered in my ear, "I am Abba.  You belong to me."  And, it is there, in the stillness, pondering the awesome grandeur of all he has done, that I begin to see more of the glory of my Father.  I begin to see more of the perfection of his plan and his purposes.  

It is in that place, not understanding, but lost in the vastness of the glory, plan and purposes of the Father, I begin to see beauty.  I begin to experience the beauty of everything that is God.  In the end, Jonathan Edwards would argue, that is the goal of the Christian life, "To enjoy and reflect the beauty of God." 

In these moments, when my soul is captivated by the shear immenseness of all things and the beauty of my Lord, there is complete contentment.  There is remarkable peace.  There is indescribable tranquility.  They are instants in time which provide glimpses of future glory when time will be no more.  They are occasions of prayer without words.  Praise without sound.  Worship that bows my soul in silence before my Abba. 

It is here that I relate to King David's greatest desire and his passionate request :

One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.   Psalm 27:4 (ESV) 

God is holy, to be sure.  His love is faultless, his plans and purposes flawless.  His glory, reflected in all things, is indescribable.  Every attribute of God is perfect in perfection.  But, in eternity, when we gaze on all the divine virtues that make the Father who he is, we will see beauty.  And, we will spend eternity gazing upon the sheer, continually increasing, beauty that flows from our Abba.

In these all to short times of silent prayer, my soul touches the outermost fringe of that beauty, and cries with deep longing, "Come, Lord Jesus!" 

But I digress.  Here's where my mind has been wandering this past week.  The week in which we remember Christ's passion and resurrection.
 
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.  All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made". John 1:1-3 (ESV) 
 
And:

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.  John 1:14 (ESV)  

My meditation has been on two thoughts from these verses.  First, this Word, who both was with God and was God, created all things.  And second, this Word somehow took on human form and dwelt with man.

Having the Spirit of God in me causes every part of my being to cry out that these words are true.  And, with my mind, I can partially understand what this is saying.  But I am not able to picture what this would even begin to look like.  My mind cannot come close to grasping how it is remotely possible for the Word to create everything from nothing.  In fact, I cannot begin to imagine what nothing would even look like.  It's a God dimension thing that doesn't translate into my three dimensional world view.

The same is true of the Word becoming flesh.  I get it.  I even celebrate Christmas every year.  But picturing how that happens in three dimensional terms is just not possible.

But the Father gives me the freedom to wonder.  He allows me to take my three dimensional view, and try to wander in God dimensional territory.  That is often where I get trapped in the vastness of God, and begin to sit transfixed, gazing on his beauty.

I wonder about the Word designing the perfect ecosystem on this blessed planet.  Everything about it had to be ideal to support the life he was going to create on it.  But, I wonder, when he created trees to gather energy from the sun he spoke into existence, and to convert the carbon dioxide that animal life would exhale into oxygen for that same life to inhale, what thoughts crossed his mind?  When he created those trees, did he picture one of them cut into beams, and formed into a cross, in order to crucify the flesh he was going to become?

When he added thorn bushes to his perfect ecosystem, did he look toward the day when one of them would be used to form a crown of mockery that would be jammed onto the head of the flesh he was going to become?

When flax became part of his creation, part of the unique biosphere, did he envision the linen that would come from it being made into the garments that would be gambled for at the foot of the cross, or the robe that Herod would place on him to ridicule him?  Did he see the flesh he was going to become being placed, broken, battered, beaten, and lifeless into the shroud of linen made from the seed of the flax he was creating?

When the Word placed iron ore into the ground of the favored planet, did he visualize the day it would be taken from the ground, smelted, and made into steel?  Particularly, did he picture the day that steel would form the nails that would hold his flesh to the cross made from the tree he created?  Did he imagine the same steel being formed into the hammer that would pound the nails through his hands and feet into the cold beams?  Did he think of the steel that would form the spearhead of the spear that would pierce the side of the flesh that he would become?

There are so many things.

When the Word created man from the dust, and sent life giving blood pumping through his body, did he think of the future day when he would become flesh, and the life giving blood would drip from his body?  When the Word gave man nerves to feel, and sense pain, did he imagine the pain that would be inflicted on him when he became flesh?  When he gave man a body of flesh, did he anticipate the day the nails would be driven into the flesh of his hands and feet?  Or the moment the spear would pierce the flesh of his side?

There are, obviously, no answers to these questions, for they belong to God's dimension alone.  But, I consider them when I sit in stillness, not for answers, but because they take me to that place of the vastness of God.  And from there, it is a short trip to beholding his beauty.  And, for now, that is more than enough.  For in that place, I become keenly aware that, while I may not know everything the Word was thinking when he spun things into existence, His Spirit bears witness to my spirit, that he was thinking of me.  And, in that, there is rest.