Church Return (this is not about gun control)

Church Return

(“You then, my child, be strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus.” 2 Timothy 2:1)

“They are taking our guns,”
“They will confiscate our defenses,”
“We cannot wait,” “no time to sit on fences.”

And we arm our hearers with every alarm bell, call presidents poison,
government brazen and the rest of humanity, (the ones unaffiliated with
you and me)
will be frozen by ray-guns spraying icebergs on the deserts and churches.
It’s no wonder no one listens to us anymore.

“They only want to revel in sin,”
“They are redefining all our favorite definitions,”
“We must fire first,” “pound our admonitions.”

And we, who needed an arm on our shoulder, now arm much bolder
the askers with worlds of questions. We flinch, or disdain the
honest refrains of image-bearers who can’t understand our fatal divisions
of sin. We legislate some, ignore our own, inflame hell for others and
excuse our favorites. 

But grace. but Grace. One syllable. It should linger an entire stanza
upon the final “s” that sounds like the breeze erasing our burned out
efforts to please. And, having missed the mark so entirely, missing the
target completely, we minimize it for all others (the ones unaffiliated with
you and me)
making them miss by far what we missed by nature.

Church return. Church, lay down every earned privilege, every pillaged soul
who hears our famous word (whispers “g r a c e”) and waits to see the
love-of-enemy preachers and blessing-for-cursing teachers and 
second-mile business who ask no questions about the sins of its customers.

Church return, armed with grace. Church, lay down your fire and arms,
last and first, invite the scarred and scary into a new way, patient family;
Church return with the fires of love and, Church arise with the waters of mercy, and
Church sing out the songs of joy and, Church receive the bathing of the Spirit

And walk, and run, delightly undisguised; forgiveness the frontgaurd;
grace disallowing any retreat.

The Weight is Gone

“The Weight is Gone”

“Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.” Hebrews 9:28

I was a paperboy. If you have a mental picture of the archetype 12 year-old boy carefully balancing two bags of newspapers on his ten year-old bicycle, your imagination would come close to my youth from sixth grade through the first half of high school. I delivered the Oakland Herald Examiner for three years and the Contra Costa Times through a good part of high school.

Still Rumored

Still Rumored

(“Some of them began to spit on him. They covered his face and hit him with their fists. They said to him, 'Prophesy!' Even the guards took him and slapped him.” Mark 14:65)

It is still rumored across the prevailing winds that
my sins
were included when they put that sack over Your face;
your nose scratched by the pinny burlap, your mouth closed by
the tight squeeze around Your head. One fist, then two, another,
then three, four or five, seven or ten, we lose count when the blows
come, one and then again, one after the other; knuckles below the nose
and palms straight up the cheekbones.

I do not remember that shadowy place, lit only by oily torches
leaving soot shadows in the air; ghosts crawling on the palace walls.

But the wind still whistles that I lack an alibi. There was no where else
such as I to be. (Though I had often discussed Messianic possibilities,
setting seniors upon their heels with my well-rounded arguments.) I
knew none of that mattered
now. For I did not recognize the very face I had theorized
God might have if He were to visit, satisfied to portion His
grace to the rightly studied few. I knew I stood head of my class.

I have an inkling I attended the mock court and its proceedings,
though I would swear I never meant to be there when God was
knocked down in the preliminary rounds. As the fists flew fewer,
You were left in the middle, a dizzied man pummeled by courageous
bragarts with a blindfold just in case the odds were not even. Turning
like a tree ready to topple, we screamed at your circling room,
“Tell Us! Speak Up! Tell Us, mighty son of god. Prophesy! Speak up!
Prophesy, who hit you, You Wretch of a Blasphemer and Pretender
to the Throne. Tell Us! Speak up! Prophecy! Tell Us! and we will leave you
alone.

But the breeze broke about the darkness of midnight; the whistles of wind
and the prevailing opinions were stopped when the prisoner did not speak,
did not moan, did not mumble, did not accuse. He stood, bloody; his
skin raked like a garden ready for seed. His face was shredded, flesh
torn between lips and cheekbones. His knees were buckled, though he
refused to kneel; and He swayed like the most majestic of trees
when the storms do their best to topple the wooden wonders with
roots spread over acres, and live among us still. He swayed,

But He stood. And for a moment brief as lightning I knew,
though my mind retreated to darkness quickly again:
though beaten and torn, bruised and aching,
before me stood, more than I'd seen stand before
was, no doubt, the Creator, the King.

Love Covers

“Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions.” Proverbs 10:12

If I had the physique I dream of, I might change my wardrobe. Barrel chest, six-pack abs, high caliber guns for biceps, calves and thighs well defined; yes, I would not be afraid to wear a t-shirt that actually fit well. It would accentuate all the hard work I put into achieving my incredible frame.

Soul is Face, Black is Red

Soul is Face, Black is Red

(“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9)

Sometimes the wind turns offshore and insists
on another whiff of trails I have left behind me.
Another note I played half flat, another name I forgot,
and more than that, could not remember the connection
we certainly once had.

Sometimes the circuits are crowded and
emails are never answered. I wished for days,
hoped for weeks, waited for months, now despair
over the years that my misspoken and slippery tongue
cannot be forgiven by the one who misheard my intention.
(I do not blame your hearing; it is my speak that
shorted out like a light switch with the wiring worn away.)

I have heard the words from men over the phone,
no tears, no cracks in the armor of their voice,
only the admission they couldn’t break the sickness
until they sent apologies. (Never mind my wounds
and splinter bed, or tears spread everywhere I thought
about the next blast of angry flame. I forgave,
nevertheless, though, as I’ve said, I wished you hadn’t
continued to blame me for days, weeks and months after
you called so you could recover from your cold.)

My old soul is black from its youth,
my thoughts are intractable,
my actions driven and drunk from
the impulses that only serve to break my boredom.

My face is red from effort and embarrassment,
and my feet slide upon the incline littered with
lava’s gravel; my pace is unknown.

I am open, having stolen words from poets;
I am guilty, having spoken lies to prophets;
I am filthy, having broken vows to comrades:
I am captive, having pursued praise from patrons.

I am free, completely above the inactive plains
of stone-cold lava flow. I am clean, entirely within
the passion and pains of momentary composition.

The river is sweeter than the peak I pretended to conquer,
and the pretence that nearly conquered me.

When the Helper Comes

“When the Helper (the Holy Spirit) comes, He will show the world the truth about sin. He will show the world about being right with God. And He will show the world what it is to be guilty.” John 16:8

We live in a time when the existence of truth is questioned. We may even hear phrases such as “my truth” or “your truth”, as if some things change depending on the person or circumstance. And clearly, there are many things that are influenced and informed by the situation. That is why a person can be convicted of Manslaughter, Second Degree Murder or First Degree Murder. Depending on the circumstances of the case, one charge would apply more than another.

Completely Clean

“The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, ‘Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!’” John 1:29

Some of the television commercials that caught my eye as a child were those amazing detergent ads. They still follow much the same pattern. You see a pair of white pants smeared with green and brown stains; the kind every kid has after a hard day at play outside. Of course, it never occurred to me back then, “Why did Mom and Dad allow their kid to wear his nice white pants to romp around outside in?” Nonetheless, we see the before; messy, and stained, and then the after; nicely laundered without a trace of the previous stain.

The Strong Silent Type

“But when the accusations rained down hot and heavy from the high priests and religious leaders, he said nothing.” Matthew 27:12 (The Message)

Good Friday is a week away as I write this. One of the scenes from those fateful last hours that is tattooed in my mind is this moment, Jesus standing absolutely silent in response to the High Priests’ questions.

"Going to Hades"

 “And you, Capernaum, will you be lifted to the heavens? No, you will go down to Hades. For if the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Sodom, it would have remained to this day.” Matthew 11:23

Capernaum was Jesus’ center of operations, being called “his own city” often in the gospels. This makes his denunciation of Capernaum and comparison with Sodom even more striking. Sodom’s infamy, of course, is because of the wicked and violent attempt to rape the angels who resided with Lot. God destroyed Sodom, along with Gomorrah because “the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is so great and their sin so grievous.” (Genesis 18:20)

No Fooling

“If we say that we have not sinned, we are fooling ourselves, and the truth isn’t in our hearts.” 1 John 1:8

Have you ever struggled with a loved one who had a medical condition and wouldn’t admit it? Perhaps they had constant, sever pain and hid it. Finally, after seeing them grimace time and time again when doing some simple task like leaning over to pick up the newspaper, you realize something is wrong. They admit to you that, not only is their pain severe, but they have actually battled it for more than a year.

Ponderings on Knowing God

“You deserved to be punished. But I will treat you in a way that will bring honor to my name, and you will know that I am the Lord God.” Ezekiel 20:44

We Christians refer to “knowing the Lord” quite often. It is sometimes used to discover is someone truly belongs to the club. “When did you come to know the Lord?” Sometimes it is a defense when someone threatens our faith. “I think I know the Lord too.” Other times it is a place saver for “keeping the rules”, “going to heaven”, or “and I’m not sure about you.”

Do You See Her?

“Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, ‘Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair.’” Luke 7:44 (The Message)

Simon was a Pharisee who had invited Jesus to dine with him. During the meal a woman who was a known sinner entered the house with a jar of perfume. She knelt next to Jesus’ feet. As her tears fell on His feet she dried them with her hair, kissed his feet and anointed them with the perfume she had brought.

Simon was aghast! The woman’s reputation was well-known and he couldn’t believe that Jesus would let such a woman touch him. Especially if he was truly someone who spoke with God. The holy and sinful simply do not mix! Or so Simon thought.

Jesus’ response to Simon’s thoughts is telling. Looking at the woman he says to Simon, “Do you see her?” Of course Simon saw her. Isn’t he the one who was horrified at the way she wantonly approached Jesus.

“What do you mean, ‘Do you see this woman?’”, he must have thought. “I’m the one who pointed her out to you! I’m the one who cringed when she barely had entered the room. “Do I see her?” I’m the one that had to point her out to you, Jesus! You’re the one with poor eyesight, or perhaps you just haven’t heard what type of woman she is. I know you would never allow anyone with such a immorality even come near you. Well, unless you are not who you say you are, Jesus!”

But Jesus meant it. He meant for Simon to take another look at her. He meant for Simon to notice how she had indeed touched him. He wanted Simon to take a good long look at her. He wanted him to lay aside his presumptive nearsighted view of the woman and see her as a fellow human being.

Of course, that would be hard for Simon to do. She was well-known for her sin, and Simon was well-known for his devotion to religion and morality. Now Jesus wants him to look at the woman, and to notice something peculiar. She, so unholy and sinful could not stop washing Jesus’ feet and drying them with her own hair. Meanwhile Simon had not even supplied so much as a towel!

It is so unfortunate that we can be just as misguided as Simon. We look at people and we think we have them pegged. “There’s that liberal democrat over there. I’m sure he’s godless, has no morals and supports aborting every baby in sight.” “Did you see that conservative? I bet she hates gays! He’d probably rather see people burn in hell than love someone different that him.” We peg the poor as lazy, the hard-working as gruff or the well-educated as smug.

Jesus says, “Simon, do you see that person?” No, we are much like Simon. We do not see the person, we see our assumptions, our prejudices, our boxes all categorized so we know exactly what to do with each sort of person we come in contact with. “Do you see that woman?” Do we really?

Human eyes tend to see surface groups and classes, the eyes of faith see the individual made in the unique image of God. Jesus eats with a religious big-wig, but it is the lowly sinner lady who can’t keep herself from gushing love and devotion for Him. What happened to our presumptions now? What box should we put her in? Or Simon?

Jesus takes the opportunity to let Simon in on a secret: serving God isn’t about being the best, it’s about being the most forgiven! Simon, like many of us, assumed he wasn’t quite as bad as the worst of human miscreants. He might admit a handful of common missteps along the way, but his need for forgiveness was tiny compared to someone like this woman!

Or so he thinks. Or so we think. I had someone recently; in admitting they had done something they shouldn’t have, say, “I guess I sorta made a mistake.” That’s our problem! We only think we have “sorta” sinned. So, for those who sorta sin, they sorta get forgiven!

I’m starting to see now, why it is important to take long looks at people. It isn’t so I can see how dirty they are; but it is to remind me that I’m as far from God’s best as “they” are. Or, at least, as I sort of think they are.

Simons are people who have only “sort of” sinned. They are glad they are forgiven, but it’s not really such a big deal. People like the woman have sinned with all their vigor. They don’t care, everyone knows. And, grateful at such overwhelming forgiveness, they love unreservedly.

“Sort of” addicts never get help. “Sort of” sicknesses never get fully healed. People “Sort of” out of tune never get adjusted.

I don’t care anymore, I need forgiveness. I need it now, I need it full, I need it right out in front where everyone can see. And, I need to take a new, long look at people I’ve boxed away. Maybe some of them are just now drying the feet of Jesus while I sit merely writing about Him.

When to Avoid Discomfort

“After all, if I had made you uncomfortable, how could you have cheered me up when you were uncomfortable?” 2 Corinthians 2:2

There was a lot about which the Corinthians should have been uncomfortable, and especially in regards to the Apostle Paul. He had to call them out on a number of issues in his previous letter. They had been misusing spiritual gifts, arguing over who was the greatest, wisest or most knowledgeable about spiritual things. They snubbed the poor, made a mockery of times they celebrated communion, and did nothing about a man who was regularly having sex with his step mother.