Advent Is a Season of Gratitude

Gratitude. Yeah, I know. Thanksgiving is over; we've all moved on. Time for giving. Or getting. I can't much tell anymore. I don't believe gratitude ever goes out of season.

I'm gonna shift gears on you pretty quickly, so buckle up and try to hang on: parables are a great way to teach and reveal truth. God and godly people used them throughout history. For instance, when David committed adultery with Bathsheba, Nathan the Prophet told David a story in order to reveal a difficult truth to him: the truth of the king's own sin. It worked. David was incensed by the "main character's" evil, and even imposed punishment on this villain. When Nathan exposed David as the evildoer, David repented and accepted his punishment from God as just and merciful.

Ok. Now to tie this all together, my parable:

A man was dealing with the mania of an adult daughter caught in addiction. He begged her, pleaded with her, even held her hand as he prayed with her; she very reluctantly indulged him. She was, at the time, working in an industry which fed her addiction and encouraged her sinful behavior. He often would cry out, "God, if only You will change her." But more often he would cry, "I can't keep this up. I can't keep looking at her like this. I can't keep having this craziness in my life. I can no longer deal with the shame of this child I have. She has no consideration for me." His was preoccupied with the impact her actions had on him. He sought comfort and prayer in a local prayer group. They understood the difficulty of his situation, but based on his "self" centered complaints would occasionally suggest he begin praying for God to work in this situation, as well as specifically for his daughter's deliverance. They prayed that God would change this man's heart toward his daughter -- no matter how wrong she was -- that she might be moved by his love for her.

Months later, while attending prayer meeting, this man stood up. His daughter had quit her job weeks before, had been seeking help for her addiction, and had moved in with him in an attempt to get her life together; she was currently working part-time, for minimum wage at a bodega. By all indications, she was on the right track. Before his listeners were able to shout "Hallelujah!" at what they presumed was a praise update, he added, "Please pray she will be able to find a better paying job -- maybe in another pub; I can't go on supporting her this way." The prayer partners were stunned. 

Had they not just been praying his daughter would be cured of her addiction? Did God not provide her a way out? Had this man ever trusted God to handle the situation for his good, his daughter's good, and God's own glory? or had he simply rubbed a lamp and summoned some magic minion to work at his behest? Had he ever at all been grateful that God handled the situation with his daughter's health? or had he just gone straight to hating the way it imposed on him?

Gratitude. For every good thing. Even the ones that challenge us to change or to change the way we do things. For every pregnancy that makes our backs ache, or every child that wakes to be fed in the middle of the night. For every job that requires we venture out at 2 AM in below freezing temperatures, or takes our parents away from our Christmas recitals. For every spouse that hogs the remote, and the ones that hide it! For friends who do not believe as we do, and "foes" that do. For bills, and long lines, and delays at the airport. For every inconvenience and every trial, a blessing is revealed, if only we see things with eyes of gratitude.

Advent

"God,  You are my God."

The audacity to say that! The God of all the Universe! El Shaddai -- the Almighty God; the All-Sufficient God! El Elyon -- the Most High God! YHWH -- I AM! And I would dare to call Him "mine"? to call Him "Abba"? He is a paradox to me. He loves me deeply; as His beloved child. He desires to be all to me -- to me! But why? Why would the God of All, this Eternal One, the King of Kings care for me? Because that is who He is.

Dare I  attempt to wrap my head around this?

The nun who courageously risks her life for the prostitute on the filthy streets of a city. A rich -- incredibly rich couple who, for no apparent reason, take in a homeless drunk. A pastor who faithfully spends hours visiting the most hardened criminals -- and serves them, as they serve out life sentences. A young man who moves his equally young wife and their baby to the dark life in a land ruled by Communism, or the dangers of life under Sharia law. Why would these people care about whores, or drunks, or rapists, or enemies?

Because just a small part of God's being, of who God is, has gotten inside them; now lives within these jars of clay, and is weakening their walls in order to burst forth! It is such a powerful and magnificent goodness and love, it cannot be contained within them!

The same love that would have the God of All coming down to love and redeem me.

In the Face of Fear, There Is No Debate

A couple of months ago I got into a pretty heated discussion with a friend of mine about a "hot-button" topic in the Presidential race. Truthfully, it was more like a Subway Panini -- only heated on one side. I'd say ten words, and she'd fire back with eighty; I'd express one point, and she'd start warming up the rocket launchers -- the kitchen sink was coming. As I began to realize this had gone far beyond a legitimate debate, I backed down. Because I'm a Christian, and that's what we're supposed to do. Because if I ever had a shot at showing Jesus to her, pressing on would end that. Because...yeah, no other reason. Let's face it, I didn't want to. She was being unreasonable. She was being inflammatory. And she was arguing like a four year old. No kidding! She was using racial and ethnic slurs -- no intelligent debate there. And that's what I wanted! A good debater wants to see both sides of the coin, wants to be challenged. And I wanted her to know I expected better of her than schoolyard name-calling. I thought she was capable of better.

But in my silence, it dawned on me -- and by "dawned" I mean, a thought straight from the Holy Spirit: She has not seen God do the things you have seen Him do. She cannot trust God because they barely have a relationship. I think she goes to church. She quotes Bible verses when she wants to point out everyone else's need for Jesus. But I don't think there's a genuine relationship. She doesn't walk with Him; I'm not sure she even talks with Him; and she doesn't allow Him to work. She is afraid. Fear is like throwing a stick in your bicycle spokes: My eyes are opened to what God can do, therefore I trust God, therefore I obey God, therefore my eyes are opened to what God can do, therefore I trust God, therefore I obe-- FEAR!! And it all comes to a screeching halt.

In 1 Samuel 7:12, Samuel sets forth a memorial -- he calls it Ebeneezer -- to remind the people what God had done for them. Remembering how far God has brought us, enables us to trust. Remembering the miracles we've witnessed, enables us to obey. This blog is my Ebeneezer. I look back from time to time and see what God has done for me and those I love. The good, the bad, the ugly -- but through it all, He has worked for my good.

I just celebrated my fiftieth birthday: the outpouring of love I received left me verklempt. In only ten years, God has widened my circle of friends -- true friends -- to ridiculous dimensions. My relationships criss-cross states and countries, occupations and lifestyles, beliefs and ethnicities, personalities and incomes. God has taken this cynical, anti-social-and-proud Queen of Darkness from depression, and legalism, and suicidal/ homicidal thoughts to a place of hugs and laughter, music and joy, love for humanity other than those within my four walls. Even in sickness. Even in betrayal. Even in poverty.

I have seen cancer cured, "fatal" injuries healed, former crack addicts celebrated for their philanthropy, homes rebuilt -- families and structures, the hungry fed, the hardened brought to tears, the aging serving youth, youth serving the aging, the poor serving the rich, the rich serving the poor, the spiritually and emotionally dead brought to life. I have seen God do amazing things! And that's just in my little world. The accounts my friends bring from overseas are nothing short of miraculous!

So, debate as you like, and close your mind as your fear directs. But my God is an awesome God, and He is working mightily in this world today. If you would open your eyes, if you would trust, you might just find He wants to use you.

You, Sir, Are an Imposter!

When my son was about fifteen he got a job at a local auto repair shop. I would drop him off for work, and he would give me the usual peck on my cheek -- yes, I did say "usual." Steven never had a problem showing me affection or declaring his love for me; I admired his boldness no matter who was around. But things were about to change. In only a matter of weeks, my son had his license, had his own wheels, and was nothing more than a memory in the lives of his family. He returned, briefly, but he was like a caged animal; he wanted to be somewhere else, and would keep running off until he was. I understood some of the things that were going on in his life, but when did we lose our relationship? How long had he been planning this? When had he become an imposter? It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

So often I have contemplated the pain Jesus felt when Judas placed that kiss on Him; I wonder what was going through His mind. But more so, I wonder what was going through Judas' mind. Judas was part of Jesus' inner circle; he walked with Him, talked with Him, ate with Him. And don't forget this guy had been given the "authority to cast out all demons and heal all diseases." How did this happen?

Selling out the King of Kings is definitely one of the "biggies," but Judas' deception was merely a reflection of his heart. Judas was a lover of money. Who of us hasn't gotten a little "unbiblical" when we've gotten ripped off, or coveted the lifestyles of the rich and famous? cheated on income taxes? fudged a time sheet? handed our kid a coupon and a five spot to go stand in the other line? Being a money lover was a chink in Judas' armor, he would never allow Jesus to buff out.

Judas was disappointed. Three years with Jesus, and there'd been no revolution -- at least, not the kind Judas expected. They were penniless, itinerant, reviled by the religious elite; this is not what Judas had signed on for. Anyone ever disappointed you? It can be pretty tough to get over; especially when you've invested time, reputation, money, hope. You might find yourself consumed by disappointment at the price of your testimony, or your prayer life, or your attendance at church. Disappointment had become Judas' justification for the action he was about to take.

Judas was mired in the belief he was alone. "No one will understand." "No one else seems to be questioning their decision." "No one could ever forgive what I've done." Judas was never alone; we know Peter stood with him that night: only a short time later, distancing himself from his Savior for the sake of his reputation and physical well-being. Jesus went to the cross for the very purpose of forgiveness. Have you ever fallen into a snare called "shame?" Shame leaves us feeling alone and unworthy: of forgiveness; of our destiny in Christ. It can be a tough place to move past, and can turn lies into truth.

Judas, I'm certain, knew what he was doing was wrong; I am not saying, "Hey, that Judas -- he wasn't such a bad guy." What I'm saying is that we should never distance ourselves from him. We have all been imposters: smiling through pain; complimenting someone on their leathery pot roast; going through the motions on a Sunday morning. But being less than authentic -- even for a moment -- can cause us to harm others and ourselves. 

How much better off would we be if we were all just honest with each other? What kind of pressure might be eliminated in our lives if we never felt the need to be imposters? What kind of good could be done if we stopped pretending and just admitted we've been there, too?