Greetings Everyone,
I know this is really late for me. I’ve been out of town and even though I’ve tried to write this about three times, well, the words just haven’t come. We’ll see how this goes.
One of the things that I love about the house that I live in (the bank owns it; I just pay them to live there) are the hardwood floors. They are not modern hardwood or laminate. They do not float. They are strips of maple wood one and a quarter inches wide and three quarters of an inch thick. They are stained a dark orangish brown that some people would call cherry. And they are 70 years old (since the trees were at least 50 years old be fore they were harvested maybe the wood is closer to 120 years old). They are floors that are meant to be used and therefore they are full of stains and nail holes and other various nicks and knocks. There are even a couple of purple stains left by my father when he was helping us settle in almost 10 years ago.
I started thinking about my floors as I was knocking down the ceiling plaster in the back section of the house the last couple of days. If you remember, I said we lost a part of our ceiling when the rains of 2010 came through bringing the flood of 2010. I took that mess to be an opportunity to rip it all out and have spray on insulation put in.
Anyway, in the midst of the deconstruction of my ceiling; I lost my floors. Not literally, but they were covered with several inches of plaster, drywall and insulation. Dust was thick in the air and I had to dig out my hi tech respirator to keep from inhaling 40 year old insulation and plaster.
The damage was done in about 30 minutes and then the clean up began. I sat on the floor with a hammer, a dust pan, and a box of garbage bags breaking up plaster into bite size pieces and filling garbage bags (82 for plaster, 12 extra large for the insulation). Without out the minimal insulation and plaster the back two rooms became a sauna; so, it didn’t take long for me to become soaked with perspiration.
Perhaps it was a heat delirium, I can’t say, but somewhere in the midst of dust and perspiration, I swept some dirt way and got a glimpse of the beauty of the wood. And it hit me that I was looking at my life. Almost from the time I was born these things have come crashing down upon the floor of my life covering that which is underneath. I let it pile up for thirty years before I caught a glimpse of the wood that was there and I have spent the last 20 years taking out the trash, cleaning up the debris that was hiding the floor of my house.
Now the debris covering the floor was the result of water damage, mold, and bad construction choices so it had to come down if the house was going to be all that it was intended to be. But just because it needed to be done doesn’t mean that taking the debris out was easy. Yet, the more trash that goes out the more of the beauty of the floors can be seen. Not only that, but the value of the house goes up, too.
I’ve been thinking lately just how much garbage I have taken out of my heart the last twenty years. It blows me away because as the trash has been removed good things have taken its place. Good things that I didn’t know could live there. Character that I didn’t think could exist inside my heart began to grow. Gifts I didn’t think I had began to blossom forth.
I still don’t know where these things come from. I’m still amazed that they can grow in the barrenness of my heart but they do – in spite of me. I find myself growing more and more grateful with each passing day.
And yet, I also realize that there is a ton more crap left to be thrown out. It will keep getting thrown out for the rest of my life and that’s ok. It’s ok because I know that it is going out at the appropriate time, to reveal the glory of Christ that has gone into the construction of my house in the way and the time that God the father sees fit.
I will admit that I do not always like sitting on the floor picking up debris. It’s dirty nasty work but it has to be done. For so long I just wanted to die or get raptured so that I could be changed to be like Christ. I wanted to be changed in the twinkling of an eye. I think a lot of people want that. It beats the heck out of growing up. I find myself wondering: if you refuse to grow up in this life will you get to in the next? Why should we be able to refuse the hand of God growing us up to maturity in this life and expect it to be given to us in the next? If God has truly saved us should he be saving us now? And if he is not saving us now are we really in his hand?
I’m just asking. I realize that just because God doesn’t appear to be doing any work doesn’t mean he’s not. I certainly showed no external signs of being delivered from bondage the first thirty years of my life. It took that long for me to even recognize the brokenness that surrounded me was just like water surrounds a fish.
It wasn’t until the ceiling fell in around me that I was able to see. I understand now that if that hadn’t happened I would have gone to my grave in bondage. Thankfully, gratefully, at the age of almost 50 I find myself sitting on the floor cleaning up debris and catching a glimpse here and there of the glory of precious wood underneath.
Hope you can find yourself going below the surface to the good things underneath. I will leave you with some Dan Fogelberg lyrics even though they deal with water and not debris and possibly don't apply at all.
Some people tell you they're trapped by the distance And can't get what they want most They throw up a wall and then call for assistance And make no attempt to get close
You're running so fast that you can't find the past And your future is wearing thin Come from behind it's a matter of time 'Til you see where you've always been
Oh, I think you should know You've better go slow below the surface And easy through the waves You better go slow below the surface And easy through the waves You know that your life must have a purpose You better make a stand while you still can.
Grace and Peace,
Brad
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Can't get there from here
Greetings,
I must be cawfull, vewy, vewy,cawful whenever I know that I know that I’m right. I’m not talking about theologically necessarily, but rather with the dreaded R word – relationships. When I put on those stretch pants and step into the ring of relationships like I am King of the world, watch out, because more times than not, like real wrestling, it’s fake.
I’ve been doing it since I was a kid- if you don’t know what you’re talking about then: say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud (even if your not black just say it with authority and passion and people will think you are). Now, maybe that’s ok if your dealing with acquaintances, but when your in the ring of relationships all the hubris is easily seen as fluff because while you may be able to spew it in front of the camera with the announcer before the match your relationship partner has seen you in the locker room. They know there’s more padding than muscle.
You know, I’ve been in the ring so long you’d figure by now I have it figured out, but no such luck. Something always sneaks up behind me that I’m not expecting, like a wrestler with a metal chair. In my teens, I thought life was going to be easy, marriage would be a piece of cake, and making money would be the icing on top. But that all turned south a long time ago and the sound of that metal chair against my head keeps bouncing around inside my skull.
Just when I think I’m starting to get things figured out again here comes a flying drop kick, or the claw or the Mysterio 619 that I just wasn’t prepared to defend against. I haven’t tapped out yet, but there are still a whole lot of rounds to go.
And every time that happens, regardless of who I am with in the ring, with I have a choice to make: Am I going to make a stand as the king of the world upon my rightness or am I going to humble myself before my opponent and my God?
See, I used to think that stepping into the ring was all about winning - at any cost- A good Christian proves his rightness by tearing his opponents to shreds, if not intellectually, then at least emotionally. But I have been changing in my later years, maybe it’s just age, the pile drivers don’t get any softer with age, you know, yet I am thinking that I may be uhh…maturing.
I still remember one of my first matches like it was yesterday and it was over thirty years ago. I walked nonchalantly into the ring like the rookie I was and baam there was a metal chair to the back of the head. Total shock, totally unexpected. And out of my mouth came a one word string of profanity that I have regretted the rest of my life. Then I huffed my way to my corner stool and read my bible. I was right- nothing else mattered.
Ecclesiastes chapter 9 verse 11 is one of my favorite, perhaps my favorite verse in all of scripture at this point in my life: I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the warriors, and neither is bread to the wise nor wealth to the discerning nor favor to men of ability; for time and chance overtake them all.
I wasn’t expecting the metal chair in my first match. It came out of nowhere. But my response to the chair upside my head revealed the condition of my own heart even though I couldn’t see it back then. It took a lot of time and chance overtaking me for a lot of years for me to begin to see my own heart for what it was (and is). I get overtaken all the time by that tag team of manager and buxom beauty who wander around the outside of the ropes. I don’t think they play fair either. Just when you’re fighting the good fight in the relationship ring the buxom beauty distracts the ref and the manger whacks you on the back of the head or pulls you to the mat by your spandex.
But that is just what I need to open my eyes to the truth because how I react to their presence in the midst of a match tells me how I’m doing overall. I must be a slow learner because I am only now beginning to understand these things.
I’m learning that when I am pulled to the mat or hit with a metal chair and I respond by gouging the eyes and pulling the hair of my opponent then I’ve already been disqualified from the match, and so even if I “win” the match, I lose.
I stepped into the ring this week as usual, unexpectedly, and to my chagrin the word irreconcilable slipped from my lips. More than once actually. Maybe in the same minute. I meant it when I said it –arrogant sob that I am. Old fears had resurrected. Old pain came too close to the surface and to be honest I attempted to tap out. I was standing in the ring looking at where I wanted to be but I couldn’t get there. It was one of those “can’t get there from here” situations that REM sings about. I saw it. I knew it to be true from where I was and so I said it was impossible. Then I Then I huffed my way to my corner stool and read Van Til.
Another verse that has come to my attention recently, which is becoming precious to me, is 1 Corinthians 2:12-13 Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may know the things freely given to us by God, 13which things we also speak, not in words taught by human wisdom, but in those taught by the Spirit, joining Spiritual with Spiritual. I’m grateful for that last verse. I’m grateful that I am not being taught to wrestle by Brad but by the Spirit of God. I’m glad that it isn’t by my education that I learn but by the grace and power of the third Person of the Trinity joining himself with my Spirit.
I really can’t explain it much better than that. I gave up and went to bed.
I’m not sure what happened because I went to sleep in a huff but some time around 3 I woke up and in my heart I realized I wasn’t ‘here’ any more. By that I mean that I wasn’t in the “can’t get there from here” place any more. I was in a new ‘here’ and from this ‘here’ you could get ‘there’. I was reconciled.
Please understand that the facts did not change. Physically I can’t tell I’m at a different 'here' but inside I know it. I feel it. This was not mental gymnastics to try and manipulate my emotions. The facts remain the same but I have been – for lack of a better word – humbled. I remember thinking (whether in a dream or out I cannot say, God knows) about the phrase love does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
And somehow beyond my understanding I was in a new place. The huff fell off. Now there was still some residual huff on my high top wrestling shoes that I had to scrap off throughout the day. But something was and is truly different and I cannot explain it (though obviously I am trying).
As the day wore on I was made aware that being right doesn’t win matches. It doesn’t bring ‘there’ to’here’. Only God can bring repentance. I am not nor shall I ever be the repentance police. I can’t even make myself repent because repentance is a gift. It is a gift that I hope I continue to receive for the rest of my life on a minute by minute basis. But from our perspective repentance isn’t to be our goal. Our goal is to wrestle according to the rules with all our might. It is only when we do that that we win.
One of these days I will learn that I am not Vince McMahon (the owner of the WWE). I don’t determine the winner of the match before it begins. I don’t make the rules. I just wrestle.
May God give me the grace to wrestle to his glory every time I enter the ring.
Are you ready to Rummmble?
Grace and Peace,
Brad
I must be cawfull, vewy, vewy,cawful whenever I know that I know that I’m right. I’m not talking about theologically necessarily, but rather with the dreaded R word – relationships. When I put on those stretch pants and step into the ring of relationships like I am King of the world, watch out, because more times than not, like real wrestling, it’s fake.
I’ve been doing it since I was a kid- if you don’t know what you’re talking about then: say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud (even if your not black just say it with authority and passion and people will think you are). Now, maybe that’s ok if your dealing with acquaintances, but when your in the ring of relationships all the hubris is easily seen as fluff because while you may be able to spew it in front of the camera with the announcer before the match your relationship partner has seen you in the locker room. They know there’s more padding than muscle.
You know, I’ve been in the ring so long you’d figure by now I have it figured out, but no such luck. Something always sneaks up behind me that I’m not expecting, like a wrestler with a metal chair. In my teens, I thought life was going to be easy, marriage would be a piece of cake, and making money would be the icing on top. But that all turned south a long time ago and the sound of that metal chair against my head keeps bouncing around inside my skull.
Just when I think I’m starting to get things figured out again here comes a flying drop kick, or the claw or the Mysterio 619 that I just wasn’t prepared to defend against. I haven’t tapped out yet, but there are still a whole lot of rounds to go.
And every time that happens, regardless of who I am with in the ring, with I have a choice to make: Am I going to make a stand as the king of the world upon my rightness or am I going to humble myself before my opponent and my God?
See, I used to think that stepping into the ring was all about winning - at any cost- A good Christian proves his rightness by tearing his opponents to shreds, if not intellectually, then at least emotionally. But I have been changing in my later years, maybe it’s just age, the pile drivers don’t get any softer with age, you know, yet I am thinking that I may be uhh…maturing.
I still remember one of my first matches like it was yesterday and it was over thirty years ago. I walked nonchalantly into the ring like the rookie I was and baam there was a metal chair to the back of the head. Total shock, totally unexpected. And out of my mouth came a one word string of profanity that I have regretted the rest of my life. Then I huffed my way to my corner stool and read my bible. I was right- nothing else mattered.
Ecclesiastes chapter 9 verse 11 is one of my favorite, perhaps my favorite verse in all of scripture at this point in my life: I again saw under the sun that the race is not to the swift and the battle is not to the warriors, and neither is bread to the wise nor wealth to the discerning nor favor to men of ability; for time and chance overtake them all.
I wasn’t expecting the metal chair in my first match. It came out of nowhere. But my response to the chair upside my head revealed the condition of my own heart even though I couldn’t see it back then. It took a lot of time and chance overtaking me for a lot of years for me to begin to see my own heart for what it was (and is). I get overtaken all the time by that tag team of manager and buxom beauty who wander around the outside of the ropes. I don’t think they play fair either. Just when you’re fighting the good fight in the relationship ring the buxom beauty distracts the ref and the manger whacks you on the back of the head or pulls you to the mat by your spandex.
But that is just what I need to open my eyes to the truth because how I react to their presence in the midst of a match tells me how I’m doing overall. I must be a slow learner because I am only now beginning to understand these things.
I’m learning that when I am pulled to the mat or hit with a metal chair and I respond by gouging the eyes and pulling the hair of my opponent then I’ve already been disqualified from the match, and so even if I “win” the match, I lose.
I stepped into the ring this week as usual, unexpectedly, and to my chagrin the word irreconcilable slipped from my lips. More than once actually. Maybe in the same minute. I meant it when I said it –arrogant sob that I am. Old fears had resurrected. Old pain came too close to the surface and to be honest I attempted to tap out. I was standing in the ring looking at where I wanted to be but I couldn’t get there. It was one of those “can’t get there from here” situations that REM sings about. I saw it. I knew it to be true from where I was and so I said it was impossible. Then I Then I huffed my way to my corner stool and read Van Til.
Another verse that has come to my attention recently, which is becoming precious to me, is 1 Corinthians 2:12-13 Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may know the things freely given to us by God, 13which things we also speak, not in words taught by human wisdom, but in those taught by the Spirit, joining Spiritual with Spiritual. I’m grateful for that last verse. I’m grateful that I am not being taught to wrestle by Brad but by the Spirit of God. I’m glad that it isn’t by my education that I learn but by the grace and power of the third Person of the Trinity joining himself with my Spirit.
I really can’t explain it much better than that. I gave up and went to bed.
I’m not sure what happened because I went to sleep in a huff but some time around 3 I woke up and in my heart I realized I wasn’t ‘here’ any more. By that I mean that I wasn’t in the “can’t get there from here” place any more. I was in a new ‘here’ and from this ‘here’ you could get ‘there’. I was reconciled.
Please understand that the facts did not change. Physically I can’t tell I’m at a different 'here' but inside I know it. I feel it. This was not mental gymnastics to try and manipulate my emotions. The facts remain the same but I have been – for lack of a better word – humbled. I remember thinking (whether in a dream or out I cannot say, God knows) about the phrase love does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
And somehow beyond my understanding I was in a new place. The huff fell off. Now there was still some residual huff on my high top wrestling shoes that I had to scrap off throughout the day. But something was and is truly different and I cannot explain it (though obviously I am trying).
As the day wore on I was made aware that being right doesn’t win matches. It doesn’t bring ‘there’ to’here’. Only God can bring repentance. I am not nor shall I ever be the repentance police. I can’t even make myself repent because repentance is a gift. It is a gift that I hope I continue to receive for the rest of my life on a minute by minute basis. But from our perspective repentance isn’t to be our goal. Our goal is to wrestle according to the rules with all our might. It is only when we do that that we win.
One of these days I will learn that I am not Vince McMahon (the owner of the WWE). I don’t determine the winner of the match before it begins. I don’t make the rules. I just wrestle.
May God give me the grace to wrestle to his glory every time I enter the ring.
Are you ready to Rummmble?
Grace and Peace,
Brad
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Won't Get Fooled Again
Morning Everyone,
When I got in the car this morning the BBC World News was letting me know that the Netherlands had elected a new government. The Christian Democratic leader was stepping down as prime minister. Now I’m not much on world politics but I am aware, through my reading, of the Christian Democratic Party in both the Netherlands and in Canada because, if it wasn’t founded by Abraham Kuyper, then he was at least of big part of it at the turn of the 20th century.
Mr. Kuyper was prime minster of the Netherlands for a time. His book Lectures on Calvinism which came out of a series of lectures that he gave at Princeton University is a classic, though I understand from others I have read, that it is best in the original Dutch. (I’ll add ‘Learn Dutch’ to the list of things I need to do. With the list I’ve got, I should get to that about a thousand years after I’m in heaven).
Anyway, thinking of Kuyper and the elections reminded me that a nation can’t be changed from the top down. Kuyper was a great man of God, who had great influence in his country for awhile but in the end most of what he worked for was lost in the flood of unbelief that ended up drowning the 20th century.
I wish we would learn from our mistakes or that we could at least look at history and learn from it but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Kuyper was full of ideas. His influence was worldwide, but it was worldwide in a very restricted and narrow sense. He influenced many intellectuals but his ideas never trickled down to the masses. For the most part, the works of Abraham Kuyper and those he influenced have been trapped in an egghead universe never to see the light of day in the real world.
That saddens me because they are the ground work for a full orbed Christianity that is sorely lacking in our day and age. It saddens me because though these ideas managed somehow to trickle down into my brain I would venture to say that 90% of those of you who will read this have never even heard of Abraham Kuyper and wonder why I spend your precious time talking about people you’ve never heard of.
I speak constantly of the need to think Christianly in every area of life and that type of thinking is an outworking of Kuyper’s thought filtered through several of his students of the 20th Century. Even though I harp on the need to think Christianly, both in these weekly blurbs and to my congregation, I am also becoming aware that such thinking alone isn’t enough; we have to do Christianly in every area of life. It is in our actions which flow from the way that we think that people see the gospel applied in the real world. And when they see it then perhaps they can hear it.
I am beginning to see that this was Jesus' model for changing the world. He demonstrated the gospel by turning water into wine. He demonstrated the gospel by healing 10 lepers; but only one of them heard. We on the other hand spend all our time speaking the gospel ,but it seems as if no one gets healed, or very few. I think part of that is the languages that we speak.
The church speaks in many different tongues and the majority of the time we do so without an interpreter. When we do speak the language of the people we usually end up gutting the message of any real depth so that those that hear are able to incorporate the message into their life without having to change. From that perspective we end up with salvation without repentance – we end up with a non-christian gospel. In such cases, even though we live and breath scripture, it is a scripture that is our buddy and not our Lord. We have nothing to fear from such a buddy and everything to gain, so we think, but because we have nothing or no one to fear we end up with no wisdom and knowledge because the fear of the Lord not getting a new buddy, is the beginning of both wisdom and knowledge.
Another language that we speak is eggheadese. We understand the depth and meaning of scripture in $5 dollar words and Doctoral gibberish but that depth and meaning never makes it into the real world because first, people with that kind of education and understanding don’t usually have to live in the real world, they live in academiaville, which is nice work if you can get it and you can get it if you try (yeah right). And second, everyday joe’s don’t digest $5 dollar words, they choke on them.
What we need is for God to raise up interpreters and teachers. We need people who can translate the gospel in the fullness of its meaning without dumbing it down, and we need people who can teach us to do the gospel in the midst of everyday lives.
In the last year, I have seen people come to or should I say return to the gospel, or maybe just hang around it, in their time of need, but when the need was gone, life went back to the way it was. That’s not coming to the gospel. Reading the bible is not embracing the gospel, learning theology is not embracing the gospel, going to church every time the doors are open is not embracing the gospel. I’ll be honest I’m not even sure you can embrace the gospel in church anymore. Because if you’re not embracing it the rest of the week, in all the other places you go then you don’t know what the gospel is. The good news changes people. It transforms them (albeit VERY SLOOOWWWLLLY) into new people.
The good news is supposed to transform the way you see and think about everything – you should not be able to watch tv, go to work, or even be intimate with your spouse in the same old way because you are a different person. We don’t like to think that way, but that is what scripture seems to say, wait... it's what scripture does say.
The old you should be dying, the new you should be getting stronger. We don’t like it because that makes the good news intrusive and well, we don’t want anything intruding in our lives. We are the great self absorbed generation – it is the MY Generation . Unfortunately, the WHO were right (not the world health organization but the rock band) when they sang:
Change it had to come We knew it all along We were liberated from the fall that's all
But the world looks just the same And history ain't changed '
Cause the banners, they all flown in the last war
I'll move myself and my family aside If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky For I know that the hypnotized never lie Do ya?
There's nothing in the street Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left Is now the parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray We don't get fooled again
But of course, the song ends with the infamous line: Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.
And that really is the crux of the matter, isn’t it? If you put on the clothes of the good news but your boss remains the same, you don’t have the good news. When we start to change bosses then our lives will change, our families will change, our communities will change, our nation will change.
Until then, as Led Zeppelin sang: The Song Remains the same.
Grace and Peace, Brad
When I got in the car this morning the BBC World News was letting me know that the Netherlands had elected a new government. The Christian Democratic leader was stepping down as prime minister. Now I’m not much on world politics but I am aware, through my reading, of the Christian Democratic Party in both the Netherlands and in Canada because, if it wasn’t founded by Abraham Kuyper, then he was at least of big part of it at the turn of the 20th century.
Mr. Kuyper was prime minster of the Netherlands for a time. His book Lectures on Calvinism which came out of a series of lectures that he gave at Princeton University is a classic, though I understand from others I have read, that it is best in the original Dutch. (I’ll add ‘Learn Dutch’ to the list of things I need to do. With the list I’ve got, I should get to that about a thousand years after I’m in heaven).
Anyway, thinking of Kuyper and the elections reminded me that a nation can’t be changed from the top down. Kuyper was a great man of God, who had great influence in his country for awhile but in the end most of what he worked for was lost in the flood of unbelief that ended up drowning the 20th century.
I wish we would learn from our mistakes or that we could at least look at history and learn from it but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Kuyper was full of ideas. His influence was worldwide, but it was worldwide in a very restricted and narrow sense. He influenced many intellectuals but his ideas never trickled down to the masses. For the most part, the works of Abraham Kuyper and those he influenced have been trapped in an egghead universe never to see the light of day in the real world.
That saddens me because they are the ground work for a full orbed Christianity that is sorely lacking in our day and age. It saddens me because though these ideas managed somehow to trickle down into my brain I would venture to say that 90% of those of you who will read this have never even heard of Abraham Kuyper and wonder why I spend your precious time talking about people you’ve never heard of.
I speak constantly of the need to think Christianly in every area of life and that type of thinking is an outworking of Kuyper’s thought filtered through several of his students of the 20th Century. Even though I harp on the need to think Christianly, both in these weekly blurbs and to my congregation, I am also becoming aware that such thinking alone isn’t enough; we have to do Christianly in every area of life. It is in our actions which flow from the way that we think that people see the gospel applied in the real world. And when they see it then perhaps they can hear it.
I am beginning to see that this was Jesus' model for changing the world. He demonstrated the gospel by turning water into wine. He demonstrated the gospel by healing 10 lepers; but only one of them heard. We on the other hand spend all our time speaking the gospel ,but it seems as if no one gets healed, or very few. I think part of that is the languages that we speak.
The church speaks in many different tongues and the majority of the time we do so without an interpreter. When we do speak the language of the people we usually end up gutting the message of any real depth so that those that hear are able to incorporate the message into their life without having to change. From that perspective we end up with salvation without repentance – we end up with a non-christian gospel. In such cases, even though we live and breath scripture, it is a scripture that is our buddy and not our Lord. We have nothing to fear from such a buddy and everything to gain, so we think, but because we have nothing or no one to fear we end up with no wisdom and knowledge because the fear of the Lord not getting a new buddy, is the beginning of both wisdom and knowledge.
Another language that we speak is eggheadese. We understand the depth and meaning of scripture in $5 dollar words and Doctoral gibberish but that depth and meaning never makes it into the real world because first, people with that kind of education and understanding don’t usually have to live in the real world, they live in academiaville, which is nice work if you can get it and you can get it if you try (yeah right). And second, everyday joe’s don’t digest $5 dollar words, they choke on them.
What we need is for God to raise up interpreters and teachers. We need people who can translate the gospel in the fullness of its meaning without dumbing it down, and we need people who can teach us to do the gospel in the midst of everyday lives.
In the last year, I have seen people come to or should I say return to the gospel, or maybe just hang around it, in their time of need, but when the need was gone, life went back to the way it was. That’s not coming to the gospel. Reading the bible is not embracing the gospel, learning theology is not embracing the gospel, going to church every time the doors are open is not embracing the gospel. I’ll be honest I’m not even sure you can embrace the gospel in church anymore. Because if you’re not embracing it the rest of the week, in all the other places you go then you don’t know what the gospel is. The good news changes people. It transforms them (albeit VERY SLOOOWWWLLLY) into new people.
The good news is supposed to transform the way you see and think about everything – you should not be able to watch tv, go to work, or even be intimate with your spouse in the same old way because you are a different person. We don’t like to think that way, but that is what scripture seems to say, wait... it's what scripture does say.
The old you should be dying, the new you should be getting stronger. We don’t like it because that makes the good news intrusive and well, we don’t want anything intruding in our lives. We are the great self absorbed generation – it is the MY Generation . Unfortunately, the WHO were right (not the world health organization but the rock band) when they sang:
Change it had to come We knew it all along We were liberated from the fall that's all
But the world looks just the same And history ain't changed '
Cause the banners, they all flown in the last war
I'll move myself and my family aside If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky For I know that the hypnotized never lie Do ya?
There's nothing in the street Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left Is now the parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray We don't get fooled again
But of course, the song ends with the infamous line: Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.
And that really is the crux of the matter, isn’t it? If you put on the clothes of the good news but your boss remains the same, you don’t have the good news. When we start to change bosses then our lives will change, our families will change, our communities will change, our nation will change.
Until then, as Led Zeppelin sang: The Song Remains the same.
Grace and Peace, Brad
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Centerfield
Greetings Everyone,
Judy and I just got back in from a short vacation last night. It was a good but exhausting trip to Illinois to see family and friends. But now I find myself back in the routine with all the stuff I should have been doing, instead of going on vacation, piled up and waiting for me; two sermons to write, and a mental list of things about a mile long, including this weekly email.
We found out on our way home that Judy’s job with Gaylord Opryland Hotel has been terminated after 18 years. The end will come sometime this month. They hope to rehire in September; but for now, it’s time to sit back and see where God is taking us while filling out job apps and emailing potential contacts. I had this happen to me about 7 years ago to the month. God’s timing is pretty amazing. I mentioned awhile back that I had just gotten out of the financial hole that that period in my life created and not long after I wrote those words the floods came and our lives were taken in a totally new direction.
Speaking of the flood, I did finish rebuilding the retaining wall in my basement last week. My friend, Lowell, who is a missionary to Mexico stopped by on his furlough with his family and helped me do most of the work. I finished pouring the concrete inside the block and putting in rebar last week. Now all I have to do is shovel the mound of dirt back to the other side of the wall…maybe next week after I recuperate from vacation.
Anyway, Judy and I find ourselves at another crossroads waiting to see what bus will come and pick us up. Seven years ago when this happened it began a journey down the road that lead me back into the ministry after a 20 year hiatus. It will be interesting to see where this takes us.
Even without the change and loss it is a busy time for me. Publishing has been going crazy the last month or so. The third book is now available or should be in a week or so. I’ve been working on building a website as a tool to get the word out on the books and I’m preparing to begin to let people know about their existence – I believe in the outside world they call that advertising.
Last I heard, the book ‘Fidelity,’ in which I have an article, should be coming out anytime and I’m beginning to work on the sermon that I am to give at The Fellowship of Mere Christianity’s annual meeting in Brownsville, TX next month.
Those things are all big deals to me, if for no other reason than they begin to move me from complete obscurity to semi-obscurity. I think, maybe, when all this works it’s way through 10 more people will know a bit more about my passion for the word of God and for my Lord. That’s not a bad thing, but it is an amazing thing.
As I turn around and look back from where I am now, I see this building process going on like block being laid one at a time, line upon line. I built a lot in my early years that had to be torn down because it wasn’t on a good foundation, but even some of that, God used to prepare the foundation upon which he planned to build this thing called my life. I couldn’t have planned a weirder story that that which encompasses the wall building in my life so far. You talk about unexpected twists and turns, and yet every one of those twists and turns has brought me to where I am, where I am supposed to be.
I wouldn’t have done it this way. I wouldn’t have put all the twists and turns in there. I’m sure they’re great to keep the readers attention but they are not fun to experience first hand. My life may make a good read but I’m not real excited about the living it out part. And yet, there is something fulfilling about seeing the wall sloooowllyy take shape line upon line, one block at a time into this thing that never would have existed if I’d have had it my way.
I would have preferred achieve fame and fortune young so that I could retire early and get lazy. But reality is I find myself a millisecond away from 50 and just getting ready to reach my stride. I am in fact just about ready to enter the race while I have friends who are coming to the end of theirs. Who’d a thunk it?
Now, I’m not saying I’ve arrived. In fact, I may have just pulled up to the ball park. I’m not even sure I’ve put on the uniform yet. There’s a long way to go from being picked in the draft to putting on the world series ring. Time and circumstance, dare I say it, Time and CHANCE are big factors in how things turn out. Will that young pitcher blow out his arm in the first game? Or maybe the last game of the season just as you go into the playoffs? A lot can happen in season. I can’t say for sure but I think training camp may be coming to an end.
(A side note: I use the baseball metaphors because it is summer, and being old fashioned like I am, summer was (and should be) the traditional time to play baseball. I realize that we are still playing winter sports like basketball and Hockey (does the NHL playoff season last for all eternity?) but that doesn’t make it right!)
A lot needs to happen. I’m not even sure the roster is complete yet. Looking into the future I can’t even see anyone that’s draftable to take my place down the line. Of course 7 years ago I had already put myself in retirement and now I’m back on the field, so I know things can happen, will happen, in the blink of an eye.
But one thing I know is that I’m getting a whiff of spring fever in the air. I can smell the leather of the old glove as I pull it out of the closet. I can feel the bat in my hands. I want to put my feet behind the plate. I want to watch that big round ball come slowly to the plate with that high arch and beautiful spin and hear them call strike three as my old out of shape arms swing that 500 pound bat and my joints scream at me as my rotator cup shreds to bits, my back goes out, and I throw the bat to the ground just to end the torture. Welcome to senior slow pitch softball in my head. I’m too lazy and out of shape to even find a team to play on. So, the agony of defeat is only a mental image.
It’s a good thing baseball is a metaphor because it is a young man’s sport and such an existence is a dim memory for me. Thankfully the road we travel is not based on athletic prowess but on the grace of our Lord Jesus and his prowess for obedience. We play the game of life in him which is a good thing if we want to win. Jesus is our ringer and I’m glad about that.
All that being said, it is time for a new season. I realize that I spent sometime in the Mudville Nine, watchin’ the game from the bench. You know I took some lumps when the mighty Casey struck out. So say Hey Willie, tell Ty Cob and Joe DiMaggio; Don’t say it ain’t so, you know the time is now.
So, put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today; Put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today; Look at me, I can be Centerfield.
Time will tell if I can or not, won’t it?
Grace and Peace,
Brad
Judy and I just got back in from a short vacation last night. It was a good but exhausting trip to Illinois to see family and friends. But now I find myself back in the routine with all the stuff I should have been doing, instead of going on vacation, piled up and waiting for me; two sermons to write, and a mental list of things about a mile long, including this weekly email.
We found out on our way home that Judy’s job with Gaylord Opryland Hotel has been terminated after 18 years. The end will come sometime this month. They hope to rehire in September; but for now, it’s time to sit back and see where God is taking us while filling out job apps and emailing potential contacts. I had this happen to me about 7 years ago to the month. God’s timing is pretty amazing. I mentioned awhile back that I had just gotten out of the financial hole that that period in my life created and not long after I wrote those words the floods came and our lives were taken in a totally new direction.
Speaking of the flood, I did finish rebuilding the retaining wall in my basement last week. My friend, Lowell, who is a missionary to Mexico stopped by on his furlough with his family and helped me do most of the work. I finished pouring the concrete inside the block and putting in rebar last week. Now all I have to do is shovel the mound of dirt back to the other side of the wall…maybe next week after I recuperate from vacation.
Anyway, Judy and I find ourselves at another crossroads waiting to see what bus will come and pick us up. Seven years ago when this happened it began a journey down the road that lead me back into the ministry after a 20 year hiatus. It will be interesting to see where this takes us.
Even without the change and loss it is a busy time for me. Publishing has been going crazy the last month or so. The third book is now available or should be in a week or so. I’ve been working on building a website as a tool to get the word out on the books and I’m preparing to begin to let people know about their existence – I believe in the outside world they call that advertising.
Last I heard, the book ‘Fidelity,’ in which I have an article, should be coming out anytime and I’m beginning to work on the sermon that I am to give at The Fellowship of Mere Christianity’s annual meeting in Brownsville, TX next month.
Those things are all big deals to me, if for no other reason than they begin to move me from complete obscurity to semi-obscurity. I think, maybe, when all this works it’s way through 10 more people will know a bit more about my passion for the word of God and for my Lord. That’s not a bad thing, but it is an amazing thing.
As I turn around and look back from where I am now, I see this building process going on like block being laid one at a time, line upon line. I built a lot in my early years that had to be torn down because it wasn’t on a good foundation, but even some of that, God used to prepare the foundation upon which he planned to build this thing called my life. I couldn’t have planned a weirder story that that which encompasses the wall building in my life so far. You talk about unexpected twists and turns, and yet every one of those twists and turns has brought me to where I am, where I am supposed to be.
I wouldn’t have done it this way. I wouldn’t have put all the twists and turns in there. I’m sure they’re great to keep the readers attention but they are not fun to experience first hand. My life may make a good read but I’m not real excited about the living it out part. And yet, there is something fulfilling about seeing the wall sloooowllyy take shape line upon line, one block at a time into this thing that never would have existed if I’d have had it my way.
I would have preferred achieve fame and fortune young so that I could retire early and get lazy. But reality is I find myself a millisecond away from 50 and just getting ready to reach my stride. I am in fact just about ready to enter the race while I have friends who are coming to the end of theirs. Who’d a thunk it?
Now, I’m not saying I’ve arrived. In fact, I may have just pulled up to the ball park. I’m not even sure I’ve put on the uniform yet. There’s a long way to go from being picked in the draft to putting on the world series ring. Time and circumstance, dare I say it, Time and CHANCE are big factors in how things turn out. Will that young pitcher blow out his arm in the first game? Or maybe the last game of the season just as you go into the playoffs? A lot can happen in season. I can’t say for sure but I think training camp may be coming to an end.
(A side note: I use the baseball metaphors because it is summer, and being old fashioned like I am, summer was (and should be) the traditional time to play baseball. I realize that we are still playing winter sports like basketball and Hockey (does the NHL playoff season last for all eternity?) but that doesn’t make it right!)
A lot needs to happen. I’m not even sure the roster is complete yet. Looking into the future I can’t even see anyone that’s draftable to take my place down the line. Of course 7 years ago I had already put myself in retirement and now I’m back on the field, so I know things can happen, will happen, in the blink of an eye.
But one thing I know is that I’m getting a whiff of spring fever in the air. I can smell the leather of the old glove as I pull it out of the closet. I can feel the bat in my hands. I want to put my feet behind the plate. I want to watch that big round ball come slowly to the plate with that high arch and beautiful spin and hear them call strike three as my old out of shape arms swing that 500 pound bat and my joints scream at me as my rotator cup shreds to bits, my back goes out, and I throw the bat to the ground just to end the torture. Welcome to senior slow pitch softball in my head. I’m too lazy and out of shape to even find a team to play on. So, the agony of defeat is only a mental image.
It’s a good thing baseball is a metaphor because it is a young man’s sport and such an existence is a dim memory for me. Thankfully the road we travel is not based on athletic prowess but on the grace of our Lord Jesus and his prowess for obedience. We play the game of life in him which is a good thing if we want to win. Jesus is our ringer and I’m glad about that.
All that being said, it is time for a new season. I realize that I spent sometime in the Mudville Nine, watchin’ the game from the bench. You know I took some lumps when the mighty Casey struck out. So say Hey Willie, tell Ty Cob and Joe DiMaggio; Don’t say it ain’t so, you know the time is now.
So, put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today; Put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today; Look at me, I can be Centerfield.
Time will tell if I can or not, won’t it?
Grace and Peace,
Brad
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