Heros

When I was a kid I always looked up to the heros of the Bible and thought how great it would be to be just like them. I heard stories of David killing Goliath with a slingshot and so I went out and made my own slingshots and tried to hit trees with them.

Because I was just that cool.

I heard about Shamgar and his ox-goad. I didn’t really know what an ox-goad is, but I had this really cool-looking-grim-reaper-grass-cutter-thingy that I took out and swung as hard as I could at the grass and pretended to be saving God’s people from their oppressors.

Yes, I really did.

And then there was Samson. So strong, so muscular, so good with the ladies... What pre-pubescent boy wouldn’t want to be like Samson? I imagined flexing my bicep and 30 men fell down in front of me. Ropes and chains couldn’t hold me. I actually had the boy next door tie me to a tree so I could break free. And so noble, too. Even when he was blind He was able to take out all the leaders of the Philistines. His only desire was to do God’s will. What a guy.

You can imagine my surprise when I went back as an adult and read the story how it really is. It was a bit rattling, actually. I could not believe that Samson’s only desire was a woman, not God’s will. It was disconcerting that Samson went out of his way to break every vow of a Levite except cutting his hair. It shook my faith to discover that the story of Samson is an example of how low the people of Israel had fallen, that even their deliverer didn’t really care all that much about what God wanted him to do.

The story of Samson comes at the end of the book of Judges, a downward spiral of disobedience and judgment that ends with the sentiment, “Every man did what was right in their own eyes.” As an adult, I read that story and I see myself. I know that I have every thing I need in Christ to accomplish His will. I know that I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. But I still reach out for that honey, even though it’s wrapped in the carcass of a lion. I still pursue my own pleasure at the expense of pretty much everything else, especially my relationship with Christ. I still depend on my own strength to overcome temptation, and I fail repeatedly.

So now I play out the story in a completely different way. We all do. We all pursue things that distract us from God’s will. We all have things in our lives that keep us from fulfilling our purpose. We all selfishly use our time and our resources to build up our own kingdoms for our own glory. That’s what humans do. And the more we do this, the blinder we become to what God wants us to do.

Consider in contrast these words from David:

How blessed is the man who does not walk in the way of the wicked

Nor stand in the way of sinners,

Nor sit in the seat of scoffers

But his delight is in the law of the Lord

And on this law he meditates both day and night

He shall be like a tree planted by streams of water

That brings forth its fruit in its season

His leaf never withers, and everything he does prospers.

Old Trucks and City Codes

I remember my brother telling me about how mad he was that he couldn’t work on his truck in front of his house in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was his first house in the big city. We grew up in small town Arkansas, and he’d previously lived with his wife and daughter out in the middle of the desert near Flagstaff, Arizona, so he didn’t really have much experience with city codes and neighborhood organizations. It all sounded silly to me, and I even thought he was being a bit silly, too. I subconsciously thought that I wouldn’t find myself in that situation.

For one thing, I don’t really work on 30 year-old trucks, spewing their guts across my front lawn.

But last month, I faced the code enforcement guy on my porch. And I felt the white hot flames of rebellion creep up from the center of my chest and burn my cheeks. I had been reported. I had brush on my curb. Someone didn’t like it. Several people didn’t like it. And where I live, the people who pass my house every day just happen to be some of the right people to get quick action.

How dare they?

Don’t they know who I am? Don’t they know how hard I work on that house? Don’t they think I’m intelligent enough to call the brush people myself? I should put a snarky sign in my yard! I should do something even more annoying that doesn’t break any codes! I should go down the street and report any little violation I can find!

The longer I thought about it, the more a still, quiet thought crept in: “As much as it depends on you, live at peace with all men.”

The truth is, my rebellion and all of my subsequent thoughts were all about myself, how I’d been wronged, how hard I work, what a good person I am, how my rights had been violated. The entire time there was something I needed to do--adhere to the city code that I was violating.

But that brings me to an uncomfortable topic. I still don’t think those people were right to complain. And if I knew who it was that reported me, if it affected my relationship with them, the right thing for me to do would be to approach them and clear the air. After I cleaned up my curb.

It’s the Matthew 18 principle. If someone has sinned, or sinned against you, if forgiveness and over-looking the sin isn’t possible, the best thing for your relationship is to go to the person by yourself and try to clear the air. If that doesn’t work, go back with a friend or two. If that doesn’t work, rest easy knowing that you did what needed to be done and give the relationship over to the Lord. I find that usually it doesn’t get that far.

Because people usually like giving and receiving forgiveness. And because those who have received Christ’s forgiveness understand what it is to be forgiven of more than they could ever pay back.

Gore and Horror

You can call me a bad Christian if you want, or somewhat less of a disciple if you choose to use that language, but I have to admit something to everyone today. This is a difficult thing for me, and I would hope to have everyone’s understanding and discretion in this matter.

I didn’t see Passion of the Christ until just a few weeks ago. In fact, until then, I don’t remember ever watching any of the great passion movies that have been made.

I know. I’m supposed to be this example for our children. I’m supposed to be the guy on the cutting edge of culture and how media interacts with the gospel and spiritual things. And I demonstrate such an epic fail in this area. How can I call myself a student minister? How can I assume any place of leadership in our church?

The fact is, I don’t enjoy gory movies. Especially when I feel an emotional connection with one of the characters. When Mel Gibson made The Passion of the Christ, I knew what was in store. I knew that the graphic violence of crucifixion would be displayed for all to see. And given the connection I feel with Christ, I knew that by the end of the movie I would be a basket-case. And I was right.

Maybe I was a coward. The movie was released in 2004, and it took 6 years to bring myself to watch it. I have friends who sat in the theatre parking lot for an hour after they saw it, just weeping.

To be honest, I didn’t want to see it. I was comfortable with the imagery I’d built in my mind of what Jesus experienced when He died for my sin. In many ways, my imagination was cleaner and more pleasant than the movie portrayed, and the movie couldn’t even capture the fullness of terror and gore that surrounded the crucifixion.

I don’t like violence.

I would be totally comfortable with a non-violent atonement. Some have built theologies on this idea that Christ either didn’t really die in such a violent manner, or that God accomplished our reconciliation by some other means. Unfortunately, sin=death. In any circumstance, believer or not, where there is sin, there is death. Enter the violence of God’s redemption.

Christ died a violent death, unbelievably violent, so that I could taste this redemption. Christ experienced separation from God so that I could be reconciled to Him. So, while I still don’t prefer gore and horror, I recognize that it was these things that enable me to have eternal life with my Creator.

And there’s always the happy ending, when Christ shattered death by His resurrection. Well, that was just awesome.

Affections & Motivations

I remember a commercial from years ago, I don’t even remember what it was for, in which a director is attempting to get a moody actor to cooperate with the script. Instead of cooperation, however, the actor storms off to his trailer after saying, “What’s my motivation?” It was funny at the time.

One school of thought in acting is that if an actor is to truly capture the essence of a character, he should discover the motivations of the character he is playing. He does research into the life of the character, finding out everything he can so that he can match as closely as is possible the reactions, expressions, and movements of the person he is playing.

A different approach is to depend on the writers to take care of the expressions and movements, and allow the natural talents of the actor to interpret the character. These actors play the script well, but don’t always know much about the character they are playing. They feel if the writers have done their job well, it’s not necessary to know anything beyond the script. They may even play off their own life experience or make up some similar emotional motivation to act the character well.

I think if we are honest with ourselves, we would admit that there are times when we disguise our true motivations, or we even deceive ourselves to make our motivations seem more noble than they really are. This was often the case with the Scribes and Pharisees in their seemingly well-meaning questions. On the outside they appeared to be searching for truth and learning from a great teacher, when they were really seeking to trap Jesus in His words. Like when the Sadducees asked about marriage in the after-life, when they were really convinced there was no resurrection.

I think it’s a valuable thing for us to evaluate our motivations for the things we do. Is this move really because it’s best for my family, or is it for my ego? Is this activity really for the kids and their good, or is it for my pride? Am I really not feeling well, or do I just not want to go? Is this purchase a need or a status symbol? I don’t mean to imply that any of these motivations are inherently wrong or sinful, but that we should be honest with ourselves when we make choices. Why am I doing this? Why did I just say those words? Am I being honest with myself about what is driving my words and actions?

Jesus had harsh words for the Pharisees as pertaining to their worship:

Hypocrites! Isaiah prophesied correctly about you when he said,

‘This people honors me with their lips,

but their heart is far from me,

and they worship me in vain,

teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’”

Matthew 15:8-9

When it comes down to it, the Bible, while it holds out rewards as a strong form of motivation, seeks to draw our motivations to love for God. It’s our hearts He wants. When David was confronted with his sin with Bathsheba, he said this:

Certainly you do not want a sacrifice, or else I would offer it; you do not desire a burnt sacrifice. The sacrifices God desires are a humble spirit O God, a humble and repentant heart you will not reject.

Psalm 51:16-17

There is no greater motivation than love for God. Join me as I seek to set my affections on God and, hopefully, my motivations will follow.

Why yes, it IS love, actually.

I once heard love defined as giving someone what they need the most when they deserve it the least. Have you ever had to work really hard at loving someone? Have you ever known someone who was difficult to love, but you loved them anyway? It may have been a challenge, but wasn’t it worth it? They may have never returned your sentiments, but the love you showed them not only increased your own capacity for love, it gave you a picture of God’s love for us.

You see, our culture has adjusted our thinking about love. We have made love into a sentiment, a fuzzy feeling deep inside. So when the ooey gooey feelings go away or when difficulties come, we chalk it up to a love lost or irreconcilable differences and walk away. Or we choose to exist in a community of fractured relationships, friendships lost to disagreements and hard feelings.

Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy ooey gooey feelings. I hope this doesn’t diminish my manliness in your eyes, but I really enjoy a good Romantic Comedy. Jane Austen and Lucy Maude Montgomery were two of my favorite authors before I was told they couldn’t be. For all you manly men, they were the authors of Pride and Prejudice and Anne of Green Gables, respectively.

I have these kinds of feelings toward my church. I’ve written before about how grateful I am to be here, how well you take care of me, and the way you love me and my family often overwhelms me.

I don’t mind telling you that I often have ooey gooey feelings toward my wife. Why shouldn’t I? She is a terrific and talented woman. And funny. I’ll stop there.

But what about when I’m tired? What about when the demands of work and family intersect and I feel like I have nowhere to turn? What about those times of conflict that make those positive feelings seem like distant memories? Is the love gone?

It is in these moments that love shines the brightest. It shines when we choose to love. It shines when we are patient when we don’t feel like it. It shines when we show kindness to someone who has just made us feel like dirt. It shines when we hold our tongue when we feel we have that zinger that will destroy someone and make us look better in other people’s eyes. It shines when we choose someone else’s interests over our own, when we build someone up who doesn’t deserve it. When we choose to let go of our offenses and refuse to exact revenge, but instead search for the truth and rejoice in it, that is when our love is tested and proven.

For more on love, see I Corinthians 13