Montgomery Advertiser Article for May 2010 --
God’s Light Shines Through the Cracks of Life --
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“Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen, Anthem
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I was invited to a tea party a few weeks ago. It was not a political rally, but a good, old-fashioned, make-believe tea party with my three-year-old daughter. I gladly accepted the invitation, and took my seat on a soft, pink blanket between a stuffed frog and a rabbit. Before the party could get started, my daughter abruptly got up and said that her outfit would never do. She needed her black Batgirl boots, and as a requirement of attendance, she insisted I wear some too. Thinking fast, I reached into the sky, pulled down my imaginary boots and pretended to slip them on. This did the trick, and my hostess allowed me to remain a guest on the floor.
Before long, the rules changed. I could only sit next to the bear, not the frog. I could only sip from a pink cup, never blue. Because I wanted to stay at the party, I did what I was told. I must admit, I thoroughly enjoyed my stay, but the experience did get me thinking about life and faith. I left with a few questions. How good do we have to be and how much is enough?
The world behaves very much like my daughter. We expect arbitrary changes and certain randomness in our dealings there, but I have noticed that many times we find the same thing in the church. We are told that our salvation is by grace through faith. Our deliverance is nothing we earn, but comes as a gift through the sacrifice of Christ. “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). This is a transforming realization when we first truly hear it. We begin to allow the fruits of the spirit to show in our lives as a reaction to the love of God. This love is nothing we do or earn, and it delivers us from the exhaustive rat race of striving and the human accolades of achievement.
But then we are made to feel less than a real child of God if we don’t do the things certain others expect. If we don’t support this referendum then we must not really love God. If we don’t vote for this candidate or attend these party meetings, our devotion and discipleship is called into question. If we don’t live a certain lifestyle, we are considered posers and fakers and not true brothers or sisters in Christ. The life of discipleship becomes a matter of performance. We begin to rack up “points” in the life of faith by how much we do, or at least how much others see us do. We look over our shoulders to make sure we’re doing things right. We check to make sure others are doing the same. We feel and sometimes are told that if our lives have cracks then we have failed God and neighbor. These insecurities chip away at the truth, and by allowing them to take over we can’t help but question whether we’re worthy of God’s love.
No one is perfect. Every single person in this world has major cracks in the form of issues, challenges, problems, habits, and any situation that separates them from God. There are no exceptions. Sure, some have a wonderful veneer and all seems great, but under the surface, the cracks exist, and so do the questions. Is this enough…am I good enough?
The danger in performance-living is that our cracks tend to come back. Like the ones in our homes that we patch and paint over, our insecurities and separation inevitably show up again. Many times, when we see the cracks return in our lives, we get discouraged and forget that we are covered. We give up, and give in to the cracks. We forget that no matter how much we work we will never earn salvation. We also forget that it’s already ours. We have but to reach out, take God’s hand, and ask for help.
Jesus’ body was broken and cracked, so that our brokenness may be made whole. This crack is how God’s light of deliverance came into this broken world. Jesus died and rose again for all of those who find their lives filled with the cracks of separation and sin. The blood of Christ covers and protects us.
At the tea party of faith it is not where we sit, the cup from which we drink, or what we wear that keeps us covered by the grace of God. It’s the light and love of God and it often shines through the cracks of life.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
What’s the Burning Bush in Your Life?
Montgomery Advertiser article from April 2010.
What’s the Burning Bush in Your Life? --
“I can’t hear you. I can’t see you.” I heard these words not too long ago in Walmart. I rounded the aisle to see a young boy sitting in a shopping cart with his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears. His mother was trying to get his attention and he was doing his best to ignore her. I could see the exasperation in her eyes and I didn’t stick around to see the outcome of the standoff.
As children, we all employed the little boy’s tactic, and most of us still do. We pretend not to hear or see. We get so determined to live life the way we think we should or want that we don’t take the time to hear or see anything that deviates from our plan.
I think part of our aversion is that we know if we stop and listen that it will require something of us. We may have to change course or direction. We may see that the ground we are on is sacred, and we will have to tread lightly and we just can’t do it.
I suppose Moses had the right to cover his ears and close his eyes when he first encountered God in the burning bush on Mount Horeb. He flees from Egypt to Midian to evade punishment for killing a man. He eventually fades into the woodwork, marries and settles down. Just when he thinks he can cruise, the God he thought he left behind in Egypt shows up. Moses sees a bush, burning, but not consumed. Bushes don’t usually do this, so Moses has to know something is up. He could move right along and avoid the bush altogether, but he doesn’t. Moses turns aside to see what is going on. (Exodus 3:3).
When God had Moses’ attention, he spoke reassuring words, telling him that he had seen the affliction of the Israelites and that he would “deliver them from the Egyptians.” (Exodus 3:8). What a wonderful promise of freedom. But God doesn’t leave it there. He continues by saying that he is going to send Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Moses turned from his comfortable life, gave God attention and suddenly he was asked to do something.
Would you have turned? I like to think I would, but I have to admit I’m really not so sure. I join the human race in the ability to avert my eyes and keep walking, especially when I sense conflict, pain or demand. We walk right by the burning bushes that fill our lives. We’re so very busy. We really don’t have time to stop-places to go, people to see, and appointments to keep.
We love comfort, but we don’t do so well with demands, do we? The first part, the promise, is something we can live with. It’s what comes after that gives us pause. You can be a gifted teacher, but first you must go through years of dedicated training and times you’ll feel that the students you are committed to help may chew you up and spit you out. You will be a great athlete, but first you must sacrifice and suffer season after season of humiliating loss. You will lead a great company that will help employee and community alike, but you will first endure many setbacks and times when the thought of making payroll will keep you up at night.
Sometimes it’s easier to just walk on by, close our eyes and think maybe if we wish hard enough it will all just go away. Maybe we turn, but decide to do what Moses did at first and bargain with God. “Okay God, I’ll do this, but not that.”
I recently heard a story about one man’s burning bush. His daughter comes to him with a drawing of her family. The father reluctantly takes a break and asks her about the picture. She describes mommy cooking dinner and her brothers crying because one hit the other. She shows herself and the book she is reading. She then points to her father. He asks her why she colored in his face. She tells him that it’s not his face but the back of his head. He is working on his computer. In an instant, he saw the flames and heard the voice.
We all have burning bushes around us: those moments where God is trying to get our attention and engage us in the work of helping bring someone or something in bondage to the freedom of the Promised Land. But we walk on.
When we are tempted to walk on, let’s remember Moses. God’s promise contained demand, but God was with him. He was waiting for him when he got to Egypt and walked with him every step of the way to freedom. Maybe if we turned more we would hear God speak in our lives more.
Where is your burning bush today? Can you see it? Can you hear it?
What’s the Burning Bush in Your Life? --
“I can’t hear you. I can’t see you.” I heard these words not too long ago in Walmart. I rounded the aisle to see a young boy sitting in a shopping cart with his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears. His mother was trying to get his attention and he was doing his best to ignore her. I could see the exasperation in her eyes and I didn’t stick around to see the outcome of the standoff.
As children, we all employed the little boy’s tactic, and most of us still do. We pretend not to hear or see. We get so determined to live life the way we think we should or want that we don’t take the time to hear or see anything that deviates from our plan.
I think part of our aversion is that we know if we stop and listen that it will require something of us. We may have to change course or direction. We may see that the ground we are on is sacred, and we will have to tread lightly and we just can’t do it.
I suppose Moses had the right to cover his ears and close his eyes when he first encountered God in the burning bush on Mount Horeb. He flees from Egypt to Midian to evade punishment for killing a man. He eventually fades into the woodwork, marries and settles down. Just when he thinks he can cruise, the God he thought he left behind in Egypt shows up. Moses sees a bush, burning, but not consumed. Bushes don’t usually do this, so Moses has to know something is up. He could move right along and avoid the bush altogether, but he doesn’t. Moses turns aside to see what is going on. (Exodus 3:3).
When God had Moses’ attention, he spoke reassuring words, telling him that he had seen the affliction of the Israelites and that he would “deliver them from the Egyptians.” (Exodus 3:8). What a wonderful promise of freedom. But God doesn’t leave it there. He continues by saying that he is going to send Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Moses turned from his comfortable life, gave God attention and suddenly he was asked to do something.
Would you have turned? I like to think I would, but I have to admit I’m really not so sure. I join the human race in the ability to avert my eyes and keep walking, especially when I sense conflict, pain or demand. We walk right by the burning bushes that fill our lives. We’re so very busy. We really don’t have time to stop-places to go, people to see, and appointments to keep.
We love comfort, but we don’t do so well with demands, do we? The first part, the promise, is something we can live with. It’s what comes after that gives us pause. You can be a gifted teacher, but first you must go through years of dedicated training and times you’ll feel that the students you are committed to help may chew you up and spit you out. You will be a great athlete, but first you must sacrifice and suffer season after season of humiliating loss. You will lead a great company that will help employee and community alike, but you will first endure many setbacks and times when the thought of making payroll will keep you up at night.
Sometimes it’s easier to just walk on by, close our eyes and think maybe if we wish hard enough it will all just go away. Maybe we turn, but decide to do what Moses did at first and bargain with God. “Okay God, I’ll do this, but not that.”
I recently heard a story about one man’s burning bush. His daughter comes to him with a drawing of her family. The father reluctantly takes a break and asks her about the picture. She describes mommy cooking dinner and her brothers crying because one hit the other. She shows herself and the book she is reading. She then points to her father. He asks her why she colored in his face. She tells him that it’s not his face but the back of his head. He is working on his computer. In an instant, he saw the flames and heard the voice.
We all have burning bushes around us: those moments where God is trying to get our attention and engage us in the work of helping bring someone or something in bondage to the freedom of the Promised Land. But we walk on.
When we are tempted to walk on, let’s remember Moses. God’s promise contained demand, but God was with him. He was waiting for him when he got to Egypt and walked with him every step of the way to freedom. Maybe if we turned more we would hear God speak in our lives more.
Where is your burning bush today? Can you see it? Can you hear it?
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