on the eve of our great nativity

my advent season culminated along the I-45 corridor.  on the causeway between dallas and houston, i and a myriad of my fellow journeymen traveled southward toward family and friends . . . a great "getting together" for this our much anticipated holiday season.  there was pushing and shoving, honking and "waving;" all of those little things which make our journeys so memorable.  ah the yuletide spirit.  and in the midst of my lonely drive i was reminded of grace and why i was making the trek at all.  

2000 some odd years ago a tiny family traveled much the same corridor en route toward a great "getting together" of family and friends.  a census urged the man and his wife toward the tiny town of bethlehem; a counting of men, women and children.  to be sure there were scrooges in their midst . . . "bah humbugs" and the stress of the unplanned travel expenses, preparations gone bad and dad forgetting to make reservations at the hotel.  if only they could arrive at their destination . . . the rest could be had.  and nice, quiet sleep.

that's all i wanted  tonight to be sure.  and now at nearly 1am christmas morning i am typing instead of basking in dark stillness.  but my mind is a rush of emotion and thought . . . and getting it out on "paper" seemed to fit the need.

grace has a nice way of forcing itself upon me at just the right moments.  tonight it was a lesson learned regarding the incarnation of our Lord, accompanied by a song entitled "All is Well."  over and over the song repeats, "all is well" and it hit me that my mind and heart are so often smitten by the dreariness of life . . . and that all is, indeed, "not well."  as i listened to the song my mind and heart were opened by grace to one particular line of powerful poetry:

. . . tonight darkness fell into the dawn of love's light . . .

over and over again my mind tries to wrap itself around the magnitude of what happened that dark night in bethlehem.  the dark night of sin and despair, the waiting in anticipation, the hopeful expectation of deliverance was ushered into the arms of a virgin girl in a quiet stable across from an inn . . . without fanfare and without a breath of resistance.  the king was born and all was well (insert here thoughts regarding the creation of the universe and and the cumulative "it is good." do we see a pattern?).  "the dawn of love's light."  christmas is our beginning, it is our spiritual dawn.  follow the star . . . and all is well.  follow it from cradle to cross . . . and all is well.  follow it through miracles and sermons, friendships and journey . . . and all along the way all is well.  follow it from nazareth to capernaum, samaria to jerusalem and everywhere in between . . . and all is well.  and follow it to the garden, and follow judas' footsteps and his lips on Jesus cheek . . . and all is still well.  follow the fists that pounded his face, and trace each thorn as it pierced his skull . . . all is well.  walk along with him along the "way of suffering," carry his cross with Simon the man from Cyrene and eye all along the way the hill called "the Skull" . . . and find that all is well.  follow the nails, follow the spear, follow the words of the thieves and the soldiers, follow the words of your savior, follow his final breath as it falls from his cracked lips and falls at your feet . . . the light of love succumbing to darkness . . . and all is well.

what i've seen

from my viewpoint little is well with life a lot of the time . . . finances, relationships, bleak national times and an uncertain personal future, it doesn't always look good.  and it is because i do not look through the eyes of light, especially love's light and in particular the way it dispels the darkest of nights.  the grace to be where i am today and not where i should be is all of grace and too often i forget what was given that first christmas morning.  Jesus was God's "widow's mite" . . . Jesus was God's most expensive and rarest gift . . . Jesus was the one selfless act that defined grace as it would come to be known in the life of the church of God . . . God made flesh and born to die, that for all of those who are his own, all will be well.

my love for my Savior and His grace is so full of holes it's a wonder i haven't sunk.  but even in this, grace keeps it afloat.  with each gift we receive and with each gift that we give it is my resolution to paint for my children the dawn of love's light.  all of its bright colors and all of its majesty . . . painted on the canvas of simple grace.    

 

listening to Mozart

we visit and re-visit ourselves,

discovering over and over what

we would have changed

if we could then

 

counting again and again the number

of times we've convinced ourselves

that change is future

not past,

 

wondering what Mozart would

have done had he finished,

instead of dying so young,

with more ahead of him than behind

i have to read this poem to myself over and over again before i can believe why i wrote it in the first place.  long drives home are usually the worst.  reflecting on past and future, pensive thoughts on whatever "life" is, kicking myself, self-pity, you know how it goes . . . and the one thing i always come back to is Mozart.  i'm not entirely sure why.  i'm pretty sure i should always be coming back to Christ, thoughtfully praying to One who saved me from myself--but often times i don't.  it's Mozart.  

boy genius.  prodigy.  pinnacle of musical excellence.  the "it" man of his day.  yet burdened and overcome by fear. i have heard it said of him that he exited a rehearsal session for his "Requiem" in tears, gripped by sorrow and never returned.  it was his last rehearsal for the piece he never finished, ironically, because of his early death.  some have also said that although commissioned to compose it for the late wife of a wealthy man, Mozart was actually writing his requiem.  his own death march.  his own ode to the dark.  looking death in the face must be scary for some, especially when there is the unexpected coming.  and, in Mozart's case, a past of sin.  perhaps more sin than he could bear.  the piece for the rehearsal he did not make it through was reportedly the Lacrimosa or "tears" or "mourning."   the lyrics read like this:

Lacrimosa dies illa That day of tears and mourning

qua resurget ex favilla when from the ashes shall rise

judicandus homo reus. all humanity to be judged.

Huic ergo parce, Deus Spare us by your mercy, Lord,

pie Jesu Domine, gentle Lord Jesus,

dona eis requiem, Amen. grant them eternal rest, Amen.

"when from the ashes shall rise all humanity to be judged . . . Spare us by your mercy, Lord, gentle Lord Jesus"---and he ran from the room, weeping.  

what i've seen

true or not it should still hit home in our hearts.  Mozart was an unrested soul in that moment, much like i was a little over two years ago.  getting ready for bed on a thursday night, i was convinced that i wasn't going to wake up.  i had somehow convinced myself that God was going to take my life before morning light came.  i fell asleep to Mozart's requiem playing in the darkness.  i was in no way at peace, but resigned to the fact that eternal sleep was better than the pain and guilt i was living through.  obviously, i woke up.  morbid night? no doubt.  i was messed up in the head and heart a long time before that but that morning was new for me.  nothing was "all better," all the pain was still there, all the heartache . . . my entire life that had hit the fan and was now painting the world around me in shades of black and gray.  mozart didn't get another morning . . . but i did, and the difference between me and Mozart is that i had the grace of another day to seek the Giver of mercy.  i didn't, and don't, need to wait until the "rising of the ashes" to hopefully plead for mercy from the Lord.  i have been given grace enough to rest NOW in the mercy that is found at the cross.  i can see forward into the hope of eternal salvation by way of that same cross and can embrace each and every dark moment which comes my way because my Savior, too, has embraced those same dark moments, promising that God works for good with those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose.

sometimes it just takes me a while to get back there . . . but He always brings me back there.  it's the only place i'm safe.  it's the only place we have peace . . . 

father knows best pt. ii

about one week ago, my son and i were having "boys day."  my daughter was with her mommy and so benjamin and i were out to do "boy" things.  rock climbing, mcdonald's, etc.  while we were in the car we listened to all the songs he wanted to listen to and sing along with and chatted it up.  during a lull in our conversation a song came on that i liked but that he didn't know to well.  i turned it up a little bit and sang along as he sat in the back seat, staring out the window as he listened to his goofy father sing along.  at the end of the song i asked him if he liked it.  he said, "of course i do daddy...it's yours."

what i've seen

i don't know that i can say with too much confidence that i say that to my heavenly father.  how many of us take what God gives us and say, "of course i like it daddy, it's yours." what selfless motivation!!  what joy in other's joy!!  my son did not like the song because he liked the tune or the words, the story or the harmony . . . he's 6, he doesn't know of such things.  he liked it simply because it was one that i liked.  then it dawned on me . . . every song i play for my children they sing along with and laugh and scream simply because i did first!  i am so selfish!!

i have seen my life take a route of selfishness.  even in salvation i'm so quick to thank my Father when his gifts suit me . . . not often to i take the time to thank Him for the hardest of times, the difficulties and the pains of life.  not often to i say to Him, "Daddy, if our most joyful times are in the depths of the darkest valleys then rush me down to them...that i may curl up in you and sleep in peace."  not often to i thank Him for molding my character through trial.  and even rarer (if ever) do i actually ask for Him to mold it as He wills.  i would much rather have times of peace and prosperity and so very often to i covet them.  every day i covet them.

my son is my joy.  my daughter is my joy.  i am their joy.  and it is beginning to break me down . . . in a good way.  like a child i must go to my father.  with complete abandon---of finances, of stability, of peace, of happiness---i must abandon it all and with then empty arms embrace the savior of my soul and realize that He's the Savior of every other part of my life as well . . .

father knows best

on my "man bag" is a little leather bracelet with block letters which spell out "DADDY."  i don't have it there as a reminder of how i need to live in order to maintain that relationship with my children.  i don't carry it with me as a conversation starter or a feel good token because everything else in my life has gone up in proverbial flame.  i carry it with me as a "brag book."  inside those five letters is a tome of stories, anecdotes, tears, events, and various sundry moments which no other father has except me.  other fathers in other times have similar stories, but no other father has these stories.  no other father took this son to baseball games. no other father took this daughter to a father/daughter ball.  no other father taught this boy to hit a pitch, and no other father brushes this girl's hair.  but the bragging doesn't come in what i get from the amazing and unending privileges i have with my children, and it's not to brag about their amazing accomplishments as they grow by leaps and bounds each and every day.  it's not so much who they are to me as it is who i am to them.  no other father has this little blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty drop her toys and with full smile in place run to me and scream "daddy" . . . for no apparent reason other than that she simply can.  and no other father has the surprise of his breath taken away by his 6 year old boy, who has out grown this kissing and cuddles, wrap his arms around his neck, squeeze the life out of him, smile and then run away to do what boys do . . . all the while looking back so he can make sure i'm still watching him smile, and laugh, and run.  

what i've seen

children adore their parents and in most cases a parent can "do no wrong."  when in every adult's eye we have turned the world over on its axis, children are resilient and still hold us high up, adoring all that we do.  but with age reality's perception changes and we are seen as human, fallible, and full of sin.  and it's this perception, not of others but of ourselves, that we carry into our spiritual lives.  most christians i know ca remember the vigor with which their conversion took hold.  Jesus was like a new boyfriend or girlfriend who we couldn't wait to show off . . . at prayer meetings, rallies, bible studies, "commitment services."  and we loved our new found love.  we now had someone there when no one else was, a "daddy" to do good things for, to say good things about, to sing for in our loudest voices . . . and all the while looking back to make sure that he was still there, smiling.  

but then we understand the reality of sin.  we understand that we really have screwed up this life He gave us.  that we have gone off and given ourselves to other Gods . . . and in fact, if we were really honest, are giving ourselves to other Gods on a daily basis.  and how do we respond?  history tells of my own life and i have heard countless stories of others, of how we retreat from the same God who we so wantingly ran to in the beginning.  we hide ourselves amidst the trees of the garden, ashamed of our failure and crossing our fingers that father won't find us.  but with the gentility and wisdom that only fathers have, He calls to us to come to Him.  it was not God who makes us hide in shame, it is we who hide ourselves.  and we do so because we have forgotten that Father knows best.

Our Father calls to us in our brokenness and sin to come to Him because He knows that it is the only place where we can find restoration.  He does not call us to come to Him so He can lash us or yell at us.  He calls for us to come to Him so He can restore us!  He calls for the broken sinner to come and be fixed.  He calls for the lonely sinner to come and find relationship.  He calls for the dying sinner to come to Him and find life.  He calls and says, "son, daughter do not forget the cross.  do not forget the way I have made for you to come to me.  it is not a way of shame and guilt.  it is not a way of humiliation and grief.  the cross is the way to freedom and peace.  the cross is the way to restoration and joy.  in the cross I have made possible everything which you are longing for . . . come to Me, sinner, and I will make you well."

how many times do we here Jesus say this?  and how many times do we not turn to Him?  instead we play our silly little games.  we put on our church faces, say amazing prayers, give biblical insights which make others "ooo" and "awe," hold positions of ministry and charity and all the while know nothing of intimacy with our Father.  we have, for years, neglected the opportunity to crawl up in his lap . . . just because we can.

i cannot speculate into the heart and mind of God, i've been foolish enough to do that before, i can only look into my own and hope to glean morsels from it.  if my daughter or my son ever sent me an email, or a letter, or a coloring book picture and from afar said, "i cannot come to you.  i cannot run to you and wrap my arms around you.  i cannot smile at you as i run and play . . . because i do not think that you will smile back.  i must be your son, your daughter, from far away.  when i fix things . . . i'll come back . . ." i would more than likely fall into a heap and weep . . . just like i did when i thought that i could not be a father to my children because i was unfit . . . i lost it.  on the floor of their bedrooms i cried like a baby at the thought of never seeing them again.  the moment is seared into my memory.

God is bigger than that.  He is not swayed by circumstantial emotion and whimsical fancies . . . but give me the freedom to speculate that He desires those whom He gave his Son to die for to run to Him in their sin that He may restore them in all gentleness and truth.  why would i speculate such things?  because it seems to me that there is an eternal bracelet which He has that says "DADDY" on it.  not because we are awesome children . . . we've all proved that to be wrong . . . but because in one moment, when all of heaven and earth come to a standstill, every knee will bow and look up to Him and He will say "because I have loved these, my children, and I have saved them, and I have cleansed them of their sin" . . . and all of us, all who are His, will run to Him faster than we've ever run before and grab tighter than we've ever grabbed before and for all eternity never let go.

the question i keep asking myself is, "why don't i do that now?"

  

not one of the cool kids

i've adopted a phrase at work and in life wherein i declare someone "one of the cool kids."  i think it stems from my lifelong goal of actually being associated with that particular group.  all through middle school and high school i envied the status of some of my classmates.  i'm pretty sure i'm preaching to the choir on this point.  we all had that sensation as pre-adults . . . not quite "fitting in," and if we did fit in we probably wanted to fit in somewhere else.  i guess you could say there was a proverbial greener grass on the other side of the social fence.  some of us got there, some of us never did . . . but the sad reality is that many of us still find ourselves pining after status.  whether it's at work as we position ourselves for a promotion, in relationships as we prove to others that we are worthy of friendship and love, or at church as we put on our sunday best to go along with our sunday smiles, our deepest and darkest closets stay in the deepest and darkest recesses of our lives, hiding the deepest and darkest secrets we wish for no one to know.  "my church can't know those thoughts that i think, those things that i lust after, the uncontrollable anger i harbor . . ." and the list goes on and on . . . gluttony, adultery, theft.  aw heck, who am i kidding? it's not that bad right?  perhaps little-bitty sins like buying the shirt i didn't need, skimping a little on my tithe check.  we assume the best in people . . . if we're in church then we're "ok."  we're one of the cool kids.  

 

what i've seen   

 

better yet, after reading the above paragraph ask any number of the people i grew up with what they were thinking when they found out about my life.  ask them what they've seen and ask them how the truth of my life impacted their view of "the cool kids."  what they will tell you, hopefully, is that nothing is at all what it seems.  they will tell you, hopefully, that it's the itty-bitty sins that are covering up the true heart of the matter.  they will tell you, hopefully, that if chris could have understood when he was young what it meant that "Jesus hung out with sinners," then maybe he wouldn't be where he is today.  well, i am where i am.  and i'll tell you a little of why.

 

i couldn't make confession of my weakness.  every little thing; a lie, a doubt, a disbelief, began to be covered up by the next little thing.  eventually, it snowballed into an avalanche i couldn't control.  i couldn't admit that i was weak.  i couldn't admit that i doubted.  i couldn't admit that everything i was living out loud was nothing at all like what was going on inside.  i couldn't admit that i was a sinner and that i was in desperate need of saving.

 

one thing i've come to understand, and now come to see as sad, is that when we find sin in the church we are often shocked by it.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer notes:

 

He who is alone with his sins is utterly alone.  It may be that Christians, notwithstanding corporate worship, common prayer, and all their fellowship in service, may still be left to their loneliness.  The final breakthrough to fellowship does not occur because, though they have fellowship with one another as believers and as devout people, the do not have fellowship as the undevout, as sinners.  The pious fellowship permits now\one to be a sinner.  So everyone must conceal his sin from himself and from their fellowship.  We dare not be sinners.  Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous.  So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy.  The fact is that we are sinners.

 

Brennan Manning adds: 

 

At Sunday worship, as in every dimension of our existence, many of us pretend to believe  we are sinners.  Consequently, all we can do is pretend  to believe we have been forgiven.  As a result, our whole spiritual life is pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss.

 

WOW!  that was me to a "T."  [an aside:  granted, there are those in the church, (like i was)  living full-on lives of hypocrisy and fraud.  So yes, there are times when “shock” is not only acceptable but human and necessary.   my point is that too many christians are not open about their sin, their struggles, their tendencies and hang-ups.  so when it does all come tumbling down, it’s like perfection went falling into the abyss . . . why do we see each other as faultless (unless we don’t like someone then all they have are faults, but i digress]   i wonder how many people feel the way manning described it as they lie down at night.  when the darkness of night descends do our hearts ascend to peace and joy?  when the dawn rises with a new sun do our minds rise to another day of joyfully pondering the cross?  or do we hide in our daily lives, our children, and our jobs . . . our church?

 

2,000 years ago you're walking down the streets of israel and Jesus is coming the other direction inviting people to come to dinner. when you and He cross paths does He invite you over?  does he pass you by for the man on the side of the road?  what's the criterion?  and this is when i realized what joy there is in embracing my place as a sinner at the foot of a merciful and gracious God.  it was at the moment when i knew that i desperately needed to have supper with Jesus, that i needed to be at His table hanging on His every word, when i was at a cross roads--one direction a beginning, the other an end--that i reached out as He was passing by and i screamed out, "SAVE ME, FOR I AM A SINNER!"  

 

i gave up.  i quit pretending.  i stopped being who i thought i was and started living the truth.  Jesus invited prostitutes right off the street . . . not the ones doing it in secret.  he invited the hated tax collector . . . right after the took the widows last mite.  he invited the drunkards  . . . smack in the middle of a binge.  it was for these that he came . . . the losers, the vagabonds, the ragamuffins.  

 

Jesus didn't come for the cool kids.

truth and restoration

two years ago i was dismissed from the church i was attending. well, "dismissed" is putting it lightly. "ejected" is more like it. excommunicated, thrown out . . . however you choose to label it, it was legitimate. the way i was living life, the sin i was involved in, the overall deception of "who i was" ended in abruption. i call it the "advent of truth." in one moment, one punctual moment of extreme unction, all truth was brought out of me. like violent vomit, truth was pulled forth from my innermost being and was spewed all over all that knew me . . . or all who thought they did.

at the heart of it all, it was my lying heart that produced the deceit which fooled all who knew me.
my friends: best friends. friends of 15, 20 and even 30 years were completely oblivious to my life and lies.
my family: those who raised me, who taught me most of what i know . . . completely fooled.
my church: these are the ones who accepted me at their table. who dined with me, confessed with me . . . worshiped with me. deceived . . . each and every one of them.

no one ever said, "i KNEW it" or "i told you so" . . . the deception was full. complete. sin made a home in me and lived as king of my castle.

what i've seen

i can point my finger at just about any church and find a fault in it. from theology, to practice, to staff, to members . . . they've all got something wrong inside. i can point my finger at people, at each individual i know and show you weakness after weakness, sin after sin. i can virtually condemn them in my mind to the depths of hell. it's not hard . . . you do it too. and what i've seen is that there are very few who will turn their hand and point the other direction. very few men will have the (pardon the phrase) balls to lower themselves to the point of truth and confession. very few women will humble themselves to the truth of the sin in their lives. each and every one of us have, at one time or another, lied down in our beds at night with the weight of our day laying heavy on our chest. we know we have sinned. we know we have hurt those around us. we know we are slowly destroying lives. we know we are not pursuing the God of our creation. but we choose the selfish ambitions of success, love, dead ends, and fleeting happiness for "the now". i call "the now" our human born desire for immediate satisfaction. that's what it was for me. i needed to be pleased in the moment. i was not willing to work for the long term satisfaction of a faithful marriage, but instead turned to the affections of the moment . . . and lost all that i was not willing to fight for. and the fight, i have seen, is a fight within ourselves. i have seen people give up on themselves and therefore destroy not only themselves but all that they care about. i have seen people, when the decision is placed in front of them like a true/false question on a 7th grade sociology test they choose "false" at the exact moment they know that "true" is the correct answer. men and women, every day, choose to fail.

it is only when those men and women stop fighting for themselves that they actually succeed. Jesus said "I am the way, the truth, and the life." we as human sinners must give up the fight of trying to fight for our own lives. we must stop thinking of our own needs but instead the needs of others. we must stop the selfish ambition of monetary success, an adequate and acceptable love life, and winning "dad of the year." the God of the universe is concerned with only one thing . . . do you love Him? truth says i did not. no matter how much i said i did, or pretended i did . . . i didn't . . . and i was absolutely miserable. but when the truth came out that i was a fraud, a fake, a liar and an emotional extortionist . . . i was set free to a life of joy and happiness in the small things that make life worth living. just read all the stories of Jesus having prostitutes over for dinner . . . He's affectionate and pursuant of those such as me (those such as us).

by the Grace of God i am where i am today. loving Him, wanting to serve Him, restored by friends and family . . . even the church who so lovingly "dismissed" me from their presence has with open arms received me back as "brother." and it all happened with "truth."

who are you? where have you come from? what are you doing? answer truthfully. answer them with the expectation that "you shall know the truth . . . and the truth shall set you free."

hind-site

i've seen birth and i've seen death. i've seen joy and i've seen madness. i've seen humility and i've seen pride. i've seen selfishness and i've seen sacrifice.

i've seen families unified and families broken. i've seen fathers love and fathers leave, mothers hope and mothers despair, children trust and children doubt.

i've seen rich and i've seen poor, pretentious and selfless, educated and ignorant.

i've seen churches worship and i've seen churches fall. i've seen pastors preach and pastors practice, leaders lead and leaders sin. i've seen man bear God's image and i've seen man tear it down.

and at different places along the way i've seen it all, at one point or another, crawl into the back pocket of my life. taking it out and dusting it off i'd like to take the things i've seen and look for the answers to the questions that we've felt it too hard to ask.