Slave is a pretty strong word

But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. Matthew 2:26-28

We are not to be like the Gentiles, the godless, lording over those under their authority.  Scrabbling for their titles, their corner offices, the head of the table. Always with an eye out for who is noticing. Like the scene when Jesus simply watches the dinner guests weasel their way into the seats of prestige. Rather than wrapping a towel about their waist and kneeling down to wash feet.

And last night, around the dinner table at Jack and Mary Anne’s, we talked about this very thing, the potency of the back row.  Because the ones who truly wield greatness are the ones kneeling.  Or the ones providing thoughtful feedback . Or available for a quiet cup of coffee every Monday morning. Maybe grading literary analysis essays one more time. And of course, bouncing the child upon the knee while reading good manner books aloud.

It’s not about standing up front. 

And that back row stuff holds a lot of responsibility as well, Today Nati and I are memorizing the verse, Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ. 1 Corinthians 11:1, which doesn’t seem like much for memorizing, but the heart of it is an awareness of what is what. What matters.

Because Nati is not flashy or up front. But I imagine that on a team or in a classroom, she is whom folks look to because she lives life steadily and judiciously. With lots of grace.

And as I try one more stab at preparing her for going off into the big bad world I feel the weight of what matters. What parting shots can I add to her very full bubbling over cup passed on to her by her very intentional parents.

Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Our eyes on the ones who have gone before us, and way oh way up front, Christ, who shows us the way, giving His life as a ransom for many. 

Somehow this old truth has gripped me anew.  Every slight, every moment to bend, every moment to be silent is a moment of grace in which I have the opportunity to be like Him. For the joy set before me.

Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world.

So one of my all-time favorite English class projects to do are plays–everyone has to have a part–maybe because I will never forget doing Rasputin in sixth grade, but mostly because it pulls kids places that they have no idea they could go, as well as empowering them to speak boldly in public, which is always useful.

And a jillion years ago I did The Princess Bride. Well, now I have done it three times. And each time has been amazing. But the first time, well it came complete with random miraculous answers of prayer such as when  I pulled into the Goodwill Store between school and home: Dear God. I am totally beat and totally overwhelmed and I have to find some six-inch heeled boots sized twelve right now for The Giant who is shorter than everyone else in the play and dress rehearsal is tomorrow and I cannot, cannot go to every thrift store in Tucson tonight. Dear God, mercy, mercy, mercy. And somehow a knee high pair of size twelve boots with six-inch heels had not only come in that very afternoon but for some unusual policy was fifty percent off.  Anyways. I digress. The weakest link in the play was Westley who was clever and charming and lovely in every way, but he never bothered to memorize his lines because, well, he just sort of figured he was smart enough to pull it out of his hat at the last minute. But he didn’t.  Which sort of caused the final productions to stumble a bit, but it was ok because we had this amazing ship on wheels that some dad made and almost-out-of-control-with-giddy-delight second graders as eels and Rodents of Unusual Size and yes, I knew every word, pause by pause, and so did Inigo Montoya, who by the way, just got accepted to nursing school yesterday, so she fed the lines to Westley and not so many knew.  And eventually Westley realized that he let everyone down and said he was sorry, but it was fine. Really. 

But that was a long time ago.  And a lot has happened in ol’ Westley’s life, a lot of God things.  And God is so much bigger than I could ever imagine, and Nicole and I have been marveling at the people He brings into our life, every single one of them purposeful beyond our imagination. But once again I digress. This morning I received a daily devotion from this same Westley, as always, since he now sends me one every day, except, today’s pierced my heart with Truth. And the title, ah, the title, a Westley line from the so-long-ago Princess Bride.

True Love

You broaden the path beneath me,

so that my ankles do not turn. Psalms 18:36

Faith to me is all about the goodness of God. It's the unfair goodness that He pours out when I believe Him and act in faith. Whether my act of faith is choosing to prepare well for a lesson, or asking the guy in crutches if I could pray with him, God's contribution is so royally generous. God loves to bless people. The more I seek to bring His blessing to others, the more life feels right, true, good and satisfying.

In looking at Spiritual gifts and authority, something struck me one day as I talked to myself. I was thinking of all the things we as Christians have been given authority for. We have authority to heal the sick, cast out demons, prophesy, preach, proclaim the good news etc. We have authority to love.

Whoa. That's it, full stop. We have been given the power to love. To love as He loves. God loves perfectly. He pours out this never-ending pure love. He loves in such a gentle way. He never forces himself upon a person. He is constant, loyal, never-changing.

It's hard to explain this revelation I had. I felt such freedom in it. I have authority to love, just love. No manipulation, no hidden agenda, no secret plot to work my plan to save them. Just love others. That's a gospel I can get behind. It's not my responsibility to save or change anyone.

ahhh... that's a big burden off my shoulders. I cannot save a single soul, whew. Thank God I can't. What a weight that is! Jesus has already done the soul-saving at the cross. And God is the One who works in the hearts of men, patiently waiting for his sons to return. 

Who am I to save this whole world? Who am I to save even one person? I can't do it. What I can do is show kindness. What I can do is treat the people I interact with with dignity and honor. I can smile and look at people in the eye. There is nothing that can hold me back from loving.

I can be used by my Daddy. He is the redeemer, the healer. God is the superhero. And amazingly, He chooses to partner with me. So with His Spirit working with me, any task I am sent to do, I will do; it will be made easy, like giving the enemies into my hands. I carry no burdens. His yoke is light, and His burden easy. Walk in love, and the reconciliation of the lost children will be natural. 

Father God is actively loving every person on this earth right now. It is my honor to partner with Him and enjoy a life of love. I am free to love without shame, nor fear, nor anything extra.

I have all authority from heaven to love purely.

Daddy, thank you for the gift of true love. You are the perfect model. So gentle and pure is Your love for me. And so radically big. Jesus died for me. There is no greater love. Thank you for the gifts you pour out. I am loved. I am Your beloved.

An If Then Hypothesis statement

Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?’ So the last will be first, and the first last.” Matthew 20:15-16

I do not know how the last judgment will pull together, as The Lamb of God is revealed to all the nations of the earth, but I suspect that, “Just as a father has compassion on his children, So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust.”

And I realize that yes indeed there is the lake of hellfire where death and hell and the false prophet and the beast are cast, but I also know He who holds the keys, He who will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces. Will He forget the child that He suckled at His breast?

Dawdling Everette on my knee puts fresh umph into that verse. And I know that people that I love and admire disagree with me about when the evening comes, but this is where the Spirit, well maybe the Spirit of google led me today, because on the right side of the margin, across from a Tortured for Christ quote, biblehub.com lists these verses:

All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name. Psalm 86:9

It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” Isaiah 2:2-4

Who will not fear, O Lord, and glorify your name? For you alone are holy. All nations will come and worship you, for your righteous acts have been revealed.” Revelation 15:4

And we looked into the eyes of those nations yesterday, as the students spoke up for the destitute, the enslaved, the abused, the imprisoned, the unknown tribe in Paraguay where a New Tribes missionary couple dedicated fifteen years of their lives translating the Old Testament for a people group of about 100. And their tears reflected in our eyes as God’s great love for these His children made its tangible presence in the trailer classroom on Speedway, just south of the landfill. That He gave His only begotten Son, who came not into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. The Son who announced that when He would be lifted up He would draw all men unto Himself.  That old familiar science teacher If/Then Hypothesis.

And once again the powers of google.com invades my quiet space of meditation, and floating off to the side of this Scripture is a quote by Richard Wurmbrand, the guy who wrote Tortured for Christ, a book that gripped the third-grade Christy and who read it over and over, as it pretty much formed the foundation for her understanding of what it means to follow Christ: “God will judge us not according to how much we endured, but how much we could love.” I didn’t really remember this part, what I remembered was the pain, “but that’s ok” bits.

But really laboring in the vineyards, even in the heat of the day, is not intended as a hideous torturous thing with only the almost mirage-like reward of distant crowns and golden streets shimmering in some abstract future to keep us on the straight and narrow.

And actually, laboring in the vineyards, in the ministry of reconciliation, as His plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth, is a joy and a delight. 

Ask my family, I made them shut up and listen, over and over again last night, as I read aloud the final exam essays from my ninth grade English and Environmental Science students, as I smiled and laughed and wrote “Excellent thinking!!!” with lots of underscores in the margins.

And even though yesterday I was having technology issues out the gazzoo and for some reason the IT lady had changed the wireless system yet one more time so my Mac was offline and the PC was simply not running the PowerPoint projects on the projector dangling from the ceiling even though Mrs. Roddy who is amazing came in several times to try to figure it out and for some reason some there was a lady observing my class who I have no idea who she was and there was one of my long time ago seventh grade students who is now teaching middle school English observing and none of the presentations were exactly perfectly ready even though all the kids had stayed up all night putting them together and were shouting “Us first, us first,” that lady, whoever she was, said that she had never seen such an engaged class ever in all of her years of teaching, and not a flicker of an eyeball went off-task in the entire hour and a half.

And there is not a single one of those kiddos who will say, “Man, that was easy” as they wrote and rewrote and rewrote and rewrote their literary analysis or redid the hanging indent for the Works Cited or called for an interview and then got called back and then had to call another number and then yet another number, but the fruit is sweet.

And even more sweet is the fellowship, in the shade of the evening, as I walk with My Creator and LORD, and Abba Father, and I am His delight, and my name is written on the palms of His hands.

Selah.

Gathered around the table, round two

“What do I still lack?” 

Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.” Matthew 19:21 

So (see above) people just don’t live that "Love Jesus and read the Bible and do everything He says" so much these days.

For example Alan said that a lot of people these days explain that the early church guys who did what Jesus said, i.e. sold all they had and gave it to the poor not because they were obeying Jesus but because they were mistaken because they thought He was coming right back to get them and so then Paul had to collect offerings on their behalf and that was stupid and embarrassing so we don’t have to obey that commandment any more.

But last night I heard a story about a teaching professor at Rutger University who sold everything he had except for a backpack and an extra shirt and a chess board because he is a ranked Master, and now he sits in Nepalese villages and plays chess with people and talks to them about Jesus.

And there was another story, “the most romantic story ever” of sorts, of this couple who just as they were about to get married, the guy was arrested for being a Christian because they live in China and he got sentenced to ten years and he told her that she was free to marry someone else and she said Never, I will wait for you, even if it is ten years. But it wasn’t because he was having such a huge impact in the prison because of his hymn singing and Bible teaching that the prison official was impressed and kept reducing his sentence and reducing his sentence, and at last chopped it down to one year, but would you mind volunteering to stay one extra year just to help me in the prison? And he did and she did and the prison official became a Christian.  And just about everyone else too. 

And last night Kevin the Iranian and his sweet wife knocked on the door and wanted me to write a job recommendation for her now that she has taken English four times at Pima, and luckily there were already two extra plates at the table set up under the bright orange red purple sunset. And there was Jackson and his friend from Mexico City that he wanted us to meet and Cate with a C who has the best job ever that included toilet papering a house and dressing up like a 50s girl and hanging out at a midcentury trailer show and yesterday she wore a red wig with braids and sang “Somewhere over the rainbow” to a delighted room of Southside second graders. And Yuchang who is always ready for a good conversation. And pots of food and homemade bread and so many stories about how our God is bigger than we think, yes Cameron I am quoting you. 

By the way, Cameron thought that I didn’t love my house because I hate the cockroaches I can’t seem to get rid of, but no I don’t. It is such a wonderful gift house with all of the lights that the uncles and cousins hung and cushions that my mom made and the vine-covered arch that Marco made and even Ali learned how to tile and did the counters for us. And Alan waters the gardens faithfully.

And even though selling all that I have and going to play chess in Nepal sounds like a lovely way to follow Him, maybe I have a different hermeneutics path, and maybe my footsteps have more to do with the “Take eat” way of following, and that is my path to perfect. 

Even as He is perfect.  Which is my perfection. He living in me. Done and sealed. 

Gathered around the table, round one

“What do I still lack?” 

Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” Matthew 19:21

So yesterday, as usual, we gathered together to break bread after the Sunday service. Well, actually, divvy up cheese chicken nachos with lots of extra slices of fresh jalepeños at Bisonwiches. 

And we started talking with a great guy who is committed to bringing the gospel downtown and who is all about urban ministry. But then somehow the conversation twisted into bringing not only the gospel but orthodoxy to the foodie hipsters and drunken college students and wandering artists and musicians and sundry street people and marketed children. And what is orthodoxy, which according to him is being diluted and mingled and is the work of the church to build up. 

If you love Jesus you will read the Bible and do everything He says. 

But (see above) people just don’t do that much these days. Except for the thousands of joyous European youth gathered in Assisi this weekend to celebrate a Pope with a fresh take on an old familiar story. 

And his contention struck a nerve around the table. Is the job of the church to build up Orthodoxy? Or something else? Because I am old and not particularly hipster, my only experience with doctrine has been division and not They shall know we are Christians by our love, by our love.

Because sometimes people read the exact same Scripture and yet disagree as to what it means. Which brings us all into the world of hermeneutics, biblical interpretation. The complicated world. Because it is all well and good to set up general guidelines that our understanding must be Simple.  Consistent. Not subjective. And must fall under the big guideline of Jesus: Love God, love your neighbor. But each of us still picks and chooses wantonly until we get tangled up in all of the loose threads and fall to the ground and wonder how this Bible could possibly be God-inspired and profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.

But all the wandering around hermeneutics websites just makes me a little sad and tired, with the mixture of rather snide little digs to the not-quite-as-Orthodox, unlike swimming a hard 400 meters on Monday morning, which makes me happy and tired. And while there is a great deal of joy in envisioning a redemptive-movement hermeneutic that speaks of a God at restorative work in which we are called by Him to join, it is a different sort of joy than that which bubbles out of Nicole and her Do What Jesus Did love and the Yes, you can quote me God-is-bigger-than-you-think peaceful joy of Cameron, and the simple although a tad weary joy of Mike Birrer who was meditating on God for August, and His Word in September and here it is already October and he still hasn’t picked a theme because he has been pretty busy just loving on Tucson.

Thus I turned to Mr. Jolly G. K. Chesteron and his Orthodoxy tome for a little century-old perspective.

Somehow one must love the world without being worldly. 

And though St. John saw many strange monsters in his vision, he saw no creature so wild as one of his own commentators.

To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain. The poet only desires exaltation and expansion, a world to stretch himself in. The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits. 

As we have taken the circle as a symbol of reason and madness, we may very well take the cross as a symbol at once of mystery and health. Buddhism is centripetal, but Christianity is centrifugal: it breaks out. For the circle is perfect and infinite in its nature; but it is fixed for ever in its size; it can never be larger or smaller. But the cross, though it has at its heard a collision and a contradiction, can extend its four arms forever without altering its shape. Because is has a paradox in its center it can grow without changing. The circle returns upon itself and is bound. The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers.

Although very little of it addressed the question at hand, what does He mean when He says, “sell all you have and follow Me,” I felt cheered.    Except for this, framed in the background racket of fiddling politicians, there is one more thought to consider:

The whole case for Christianity is that a man who is dependent upon the luxuries of this life is a corrupt man, spiritually corrupt, politically corrupt, financially corrupt. There is one thing that Christ and all the Christian saints have said with a sort of savage monotony. They have said simply that to be rich is to be in peculiar danger of moral wreck.

Perspective is good. Some things never change.

But I am still mulling over what it means to be perfect.