Reminders of our Dependence

This week, while fighting a terrible virus, I wrestled with the meaning of it all.  One night I wrote in my journal:

I don’t understand why we have to be sick. I suppose it’s one more thing we can chalk up to the Fall. Thanks Adam…thanks a lot! 

Sometimes I wonder if sickness isn’t much unlike a forest fire. A forest becomes overrun and rundown with dead trees and undergrowth.  In many ways, flourishing, but at the same time, choking itself out.

The fire comes through to start things over. The soil is enriched, the air is cleared, and new life begins. In fact, without the fiery conflagration, many of the plants and trees would be unable to reproduce. Pine cones and nuts litter the forest floor…rotting…until heat and pressure cause them to bear their life-giving seeds. And the cycle begins again.

And within our fleshly shells, a never-ending game of balance plays on day by day. When sickness assaults us, our system goes into survival mode. Our symptoms are simply our own body’s response to perceived imbalance. And when the war is done being waged, we stand stronger for the next battle. Once again, heat and pressure bring new life.

Perhaps of even more signficance is the fact that if there was no fire, no earthquake, no disaster: Creation would be without its groaning (Romans 8:20-22); even forgetting its fallen nature.

And so man, in the frailty of sickness is reminded of his death. Of his mortality. And therefore, his utter need for God.

What has independence gotten us? Sickness. Sorrow. Pain. Evil. And ultimately…DEATH.

Not that our loving Father causes us sickness to teach us a lesson. No, that is a result of the Fall. Yet, our Father, in His perfect wisdom and sovereignty, birthes good and truth out of every situation.

So the next time you awaken with a sore throat and stuffy nose, remember your mortality. Remember your humanity. Remember your absolute dependence on the Giver of all Life. May your own weakness drive you into the arms of the only One strong enough to sustain you. May you find rest and healing in his perfect Love.

When Life Gives You Manure…

I recently heard a story that goes something like this:

There once was a little bird that was flying south for the winter and got caught in a snowstorm.  As snow landed on his tiny wings, it melted slightly, then quickly froze, causing the bird to fall to the ground.  As he sat helpless and shivering, encased in ice, the bird thought to himself (to be spoken in a little bird voice), This is the end.

To make matters worse, a cow wandered toward the freezing bird and—wouldn’t you know it?—deposited a stinking pile of manure on top of the bird. (I know this is gross, but there is a point to it.  Hang with me).

The bird panicked, horrified at the thought that he was going to freeze to death, covered in manure.

But slowly, the warmth of the manure caused the bird to thaw out.  He fluttered his newly freed wings and began to chirp with joy!

“Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!” he sang.

That’s when a cat, drawn by the chirping, ran over, dug out the bird…and ate him.

Maybe you’re reading this and you want to shout at me, “Dude! You’re just weird!”  I understand (but God made me this way).

Or maybe you were reading along and you wanted to shout, “Yeah! That’s exactly what my life feels like.  Just when things start to get better, the bottom drops out or stuff falls on my head.  My life is just one disaster after another.”

I understand, and I hate when life feels that way.  But God promises that He is at work in all things.  Even the bad things.  And if we will trust Him during the dark times, He can bring blessings out of the pain.

Do you believe me?

Well, back to that dearly departed bird.  You see, this story of courage and calamity teaches three very important lessons.  Hope you didn’t miss them:

1.       Not everyone who drops manure on you is your enemy.

2.      Not everyone who digs you out of manure is your friend.

3.      When you are in manure, keep your mouth shut.

Allow God to give you eyes to see His purpose in your experiences—all of them!  It is there if you look closely enough.  And when you see it, you’ll find your experiences pointing the way to God’s plan for your future.  His will for your life is driven by an unconditional, passionate, never-ending LOVE for you.

 

*From Craig Groeschel’s book, Chazown. p. 69-70.

The Core of the Revolution

Jesus has been, and always will be, a threat to the established order of things. If we understand his birth as a revolution, then we may glimpse the revolution that his life will bring.

 Instead of being born into a well established and powerful family, Jesus was born to a couple of teenagers who couldn’t even stay with their family in Bethlehem, most likely because of the scandal of her pregnancy before their official marriage. Not only did Jesus’ birth turn everything upside down; so did his life and what he taught. You must die to live. You must lose to gain. Weakness is strength. Joy exists in the midst of suffering. Power is restraint. Love those who persecute you. Pray for those who hate you. It is not the strong or the wealthy who will inherit the earth, but the meek. The kingdom of God won’t be given to the religious leaders, but to the spiritual idiots (the poor in spirit). Mourners, peacemakers, the merciful, and the persecuted can all find blessing in the kingdom of Jesus.

This is how love invaded our planet. This is how the revolution began. It’s unlikely, even absurd. But the last thing it should be is boring or predictable or explainable. This should incite passionate joy or passionate distain. This is either the greatest thing to ever happen or the most ridiculous idea ever suggested. That God should come among us as one of the “least of these.” 

 

This is revolution.

If you follow Jesus, you follow the most radical man who ever existed. He marches into the world with kindness, peace, and love, and offers people a whole new way of looking at the world and living within it. His is the most radical message you can preach or live. He turns everything upside down and calls us to do likewise. Jesus is not vitally committed to our comfort and safety; he is committed to the advancing of his kingdom revolution in the hearts of people everywhere.

In talking about what his kingdom is like, Jesus announced, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing. And forceful men take hold of it.” In other words, God is doing something so powerful and dangerous that only those who are willing to embrace it with forceful intensity may take hold of the movement of God’s kingdom. The revolution of Jesus isn’t for the faint of heart or the middle-of-the-road. It isn’t safe. It isn’t comfortable. It costs us a great deal to say yes. We take hold of the revolution by abandoning ourselves to Jesus and letting go of everything else.

Will we choose to follow a safe Jesus of suburbia – who exists to provide us with health, wealth, comfort, and happiness? Or will we press on to find the Jesus of Nazareth, the most dangerous and radical man to ever walk the face of the earth? We want the real thing. We don’t want to worship the counterfeits and settle for less than the revolution Jesus brings. We are moving beyond the unbiblical idea that the primary work of Jesus is giving us a ticket to heaven, and now understand that he is asking us for everything, to stand with him against all that is unloving and untrue in our world. 

Together, we are pursuing this Re(love)ution of Jesus.

 

 

This piece of prose was written by the folks over at the dynamic, innovative church in Southern CA called RockHarbor