Archive - January, 2010

More reflections on getting lost

January 27, 2010 in Jesus with 6 Comments

Getting lost in Jesus helps us to see people and situations as he saw them and continues to see them. In my pursuit of “getting lost,” God has brought before me situations and people who demand I approach them from his posture. Getting lost in Jesus is what makes it possible!

Personal conflict, sexual addiction, disease and death, all demand the sight of One who doesn’t ignore, but instead pastors. He is the “chief Shepherd” (1 Peter 5:4), and while his pattern for pastoring is to guide “the elders” among the church (1 Peter 5:1), who among God’s people, as His disciples, shouldn’t possess the heart that feels and moves like a shepherd? Do we get passes from operating with the heart of Jesus because we aren’t a certain age? I don’t think so. His heart, eyes, hands, and words served to mitigate the suffering of those who’s lives were, for whatever reason, turned upside down.

Last week I saw a woman console another that, too me, resembled Jesus. It was almost as if I saw Jesus as the one doing the consoling. It was a powerful moment. I think Colossians 3:3-4 is coming together in ways I’d before never recognized. Could this be an indication that I’m getting lost?

Yoke

January 21, 2010 in Uncategorized with 0 Comments

Getting lost in Jesus, I’m learning, means I’ve got to let go of some things. One of the things I have had to let go of is the sense that I need to write about things so regularly. I want to but just can’t. I would love to chronicle this whole thing as it develops, and I plan on doing some of that, but now isn’t the time. The rigors are too much.

I will say this…Jesus has an incredible way of working with us. I think I now understand why Malachi projected the Messiah as a “refiner” (Malachi 3:1-3). I’m no blacksmith, but I know a little bit about metals. I know the refining process requires heat, time and patience. It’s a messy process. I don’t know why I thought the transformation from one image of glory to another (2 Cor. 3:18) or losing my life in his (Colossians 3:3) would be easy. Just goes to show how out of touch some of us can be.

I think the hardest thing to accept is that Jesus meant what he said when he declared, “My yoke is easy, my burden is light (Matthew 11:30). The struggles of getting lost in Jesus are experienced in the pains of accepting his ways over man’s. It doesn’t feel right, and I’m fighting it hardcore. But then why did he say it if he didn’t mean it?

A while back, a friend of mine sent me an email that has stuck with me since. It was something penned by the late Henry Drummond. It’s about the word yoke. Take it in.

Did you ever stop to ask what a yoke is really for? Is it to be a burden to the animal which wears it? It is just the opposite: it is to make its burden light. Attached to the oxen in any other way than by a yoke, the plow would be intolerable; worked by means of a yoke, it is light. A yoke is not an instrument of torture; it is an instrument of mercy. It is not a malicious contrivance for making work hard; it is a gentle device to make hard labor light.

[Christ] knew the difference between a smooth yoke and a rough one, a bad fit and a good one… The rough yoke galled, and the burden was heavy; the smooth yoke caused no pain, and the load was lightly drawn. The badly fitted harness was a misery; the well-fitted collar was “easy”. And what was the “burden”? It was not some special burden laid upon the Christian, some unique infliction that they alone must bear. It was what all men bear: it was simply life, human life itself, the general burden of life which all must carry with them from the cradle to the grave.

Christ saw that men took life painfully. To some it was a weariness, to others failure, to many a tragedy, to all a struggle and a pain. How to carry this burden of life had been the whole world’s problem. And here is Christ’s solution: “Carry it as I do. Take life as I take it. Look at it from my point of view. Interpret it upon my principles. Take my yoke and learn of me, and you will find it easy. For my yoke is easy, sits right upon the shoulders, and therefore my burden is light.”

… Henry Drummond (1851-1897), Pax Vobiscum

Tears in God’s Bottle

January 15, 2010 in Journal with 1 Comment

It is not always easy to believe that God cares about us, especially, on an individual level. I’m one of over 6 billion on this planet. It is natural to think as the psalmist, “what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4, NIV).

I know. I know. Jesus taught that the very hairs of our heads are all numbered (Luke 12:7), and that does tell me something. But that often doesn’t change the need for more validation. We still tend to feel lost in the crowd. Fortunately, there is a text that reveals the same principle but in a way that better reaches our heartstrings.

It’s an old text. At one time it was sung. And it can still be sung, in more ways than one.

“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Psalm 56:8, ESV). This has become one of my favorite texts of Scripture. It sends a strong message that God is attuned to the pain in our lives. God is taking note of my moments of despair. God is collecting my tears in a bottle. These things are in his book!

God is amassing a ton of tears in a devastated Haiti. He is responding to cries with aid and assistance. God is in note-taking mode. He is doing this for you, me, and many others!

Thank you God for your concern for each one of us. When tragedy strikes, thank you for showing us your love and consolation. Thank you for giving us hope in the middle of life’s storms. Thank you for riding those storms out with us.

Sidetracked

January 11, 2010 in Journal, Uncategorized with 1 Comment

To say, “It’s easy to get sidetracked.” is a major understatement. My ability to get sidetracked is probably one of my worst flaws. I know it has hindered me from improving my blogging. Journaling is tough when there is little continuity to a schedule. Today, my next module in my Conflict Resolution & Reconciliation program begins. That is going to add another measure of difficulty to my project of getting lost in Jesus. Which reminds me, there is a comical section in Ed Dobson’s, The Year of Living Like Jesus, where he tells of getting together with a youth minister with whom he was friends who had committed to living like Jesus as Ed was. Ed writes,

In January he started growing his beard, eating kosher, and reading through the Gospels too. But he only lasted a few weeks. He told me, “I can’t keep this up. I work at a church full-time– so I can’t live like Jesus.”

When I first read this, I was sitting on an airplane in flight to Houston’s Hobby airport for the holidays. I laughed out loud so loudly that I drew significant attention to myself. I just smiled and said, “Funny story.”

You can probably understand why it was so funny. How could it be that a guy in full-time ministry would struggle to live like Jesus. You have to be familiar with The Year of Living Like Jesus to understand the degree to which Dobson sought to live like Jesus. He went all out. He ate kosher. He kept the Sabbath. He studied Torah. He sought to live out the very teachings of Jesus as Jesus did himself. Understandably, it was no easy task. Dobson’s a retired minister, but he suffers from ALS. His challenges were unique nonetheless.

So when the young man said, “I can’t keep this up. I work at a church full-time– I can’t live like Jesus,” he was suggesting one thing, but I read it to imply something he didn’t intend to convey. It sure sounded funny as I read it though. But was he really off the mark?

Full-time ministry, as it is played out in 2010, does make it difficult to live like Jesus. The pace moves too quickly. The calendar has so many things listed on it. Then, throw in a wife and three kids. Maybe this is why men like Jesus and Paul weren’t married? There just seems to be an enormous gap between the life Jesus lived, even if  you look at it solely in principle, and the lives that those who profess to follow him today live. Am I off the mark?

Suffice to say, it feels as if I’ve watered down what it means to live like Jesus. This bothers me. Sure, I know that over 2000 years of history and changing cultures that we aren’t expected to do everything as Jesus did it. But the barriers to living out the way of Christ are obvious: fame, fortune, status, and etc. All of these are hindrances that we all know affect our era. But I shall continue to pursue Him in the way.

01.06.2010

January 6, 2010 in Journal with 6 Comments

For some reason, I cannot envision myself rushing to the feet of Jesus, washing them with my tears, and then kissing them. And this bothers me greatly. Jesus means a lot to me, but I don’t know if he means that much. This bothers me even more.

I’m not appalled, like the Pharisee was, by what Jesus allowed the “sinner” of a woman to do (Luke 7:36-50). But I am, somewhat, appalled by my own reluctance to think I could do the same. I suppose this could be reflective of the Pharisaic spirit that might reside in me. This bothers me, maybe, the most.

A bible class I taught this morning has really unsettled my soul about the quality of homage I have for the One who redeemed me. This, I believe, is good. I’m being shown the power of the Word at work. The living Word is at work, drawing me to Himself, which is where I want to be. Moreover, it’s where I need to be.
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