Marking Time

I'm sure you've heard as many theories offered as I have for what Jesus wrote in the dirt that day that drove away the accusers of a woman caught in adultery. One of the more popular beliefs is that Jesus began writing out specific sins of her accusers. I think there is a certain danger in reading into scripture what's not there. Too much of it has already been meddled with thru the years from copy to copy. It seems many people struggle to grasp the simple humanity of Jesus and find it hard to believe he could have lived his life as a mere man.

Can you imagine all of the shrines, the denominations, the religious relics that would have been built around the drawing of Jesus in the sand had it only been recorded? I'm glad it was trampled on. Too much of religious tradition focuses on the "what" and not the "why." I believe the intent and the spirit of what could be holy has been lost on making sure we get it just right. I think it was Rob Bell who suggested in his book Velvet Elvis that by writing in the dirt Jesus was simply "marking time." It afforded time for cooler heads to prevail and simple words to disarm self-righteousness, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her."

"Marking time" is a good description for these hot Louisiana summer days. Aside from a few grueling road trips to Florida for work. Time is dragging on slowly and lazily with all of us around the house for a change. We've been "passing the time" reading, playing, watching movies, and picking vegetables from our garden. We've been tracking down old friends on the internet, and I've been doing much neglected work on my family tree searching for memories and discovering old stories.

I am keenly aware of what time it is, what time it has been. I know that these hot summer days are elusive as the sand, and fall will wash them out to sea for another year. I know that these footprints pressed into Florida sand by feet five years and counting were gone by morning. I know that in time I will be a name and dates on some one's forgotten limb.

We hear too much of "wars and rumors of wars" these days. The powers that be have given us a new "hill on which to die," yet another ideological struggle that spills every one's blood but their own. These battles aren't waged on mountains but on piles of sand, and the tide is coming. Life isn't about being right. It's about being together. So we wait... marking time, making memories together.

Love and Duty

The Painted Veil with Naomi Watts and Edward Norton is a powerful story of love unreturned, love betrayed, love rejected, love scorned, love demonstrated, love made, and love lost. Kitty (Naomi Watts) opts to marry Dr. Walter Fane (Edward Norton), even though she doesn't love him, just to get as far away from her mother as she can. The new bride far from home in China has an affair with an Englishman. When their secret is discovered, her husband gives the ultimatum to join him in the heart of a cholera epidemic deep in China or immediate divorce for adultery. Rejected by her lover she finds herself cut off from the rest of the world in the midst of enormous human suffering where their relationship is tested to the breaking point.

I find the parallels between romantic love and religous devotion unending. Consider the following exchange between the head of the convent and Mrs. Fane (Naomi Watts):

Mother Superior: Dr. Fane told me he wanted you to leave but you would not.
Mrs. Fane: I didn't want to leave you.
Mother Superior: Yes, and we appreciate it, dear child, but I think you did not want to leave him either.
Mrs. Fane: Well, it's my duty.
Mother Superior: Duty is only washing your hands when they are dirty.

Mother Superior: I fell in love when I was 17... with God. A foolish girl with romantic notions about the life of a religious, but my love was passionate. Over the years my feelings have changed. He's disappointed me. Ignored me. We've settled into a life of peaceful indifference. The old husband and wife who sit side by side on the sofa, but rarely speak. He knows I'll never leave Him. This is my duty. But when love and duty are one, then grace is within you.

Many people stay married for no better reason than they have for going to church, a sense of duty or obligation. Obligatory church attendance holds about as much passion as an arranged marriage. I have also lost respect for people who stay married till "death do us part." I respect most those who stay in love, who work at love, who make love. I know many people who just live under the same roof, though they merit some recognition for not killing each other, but their love is unspoken, unexpressed, and maybe absent altogether. Those are not the kinds of relationships we should aspire to nor settle for.

The Bible is not a rule book, nor a list of doctrines. It is above all else a love story between the Creator and the created. While God's love may be the one constant in the universe, we are reminded throughout that our love is frail. We must "catch the little foxes that ruin the vineyards," for "the love of many will grow cold." We must be passionate in our love making and our praying.

We make an effort to grow in love every day not because we have to, but because we want to. This is not a place we have to be. It is the place that we want to be and this is the one we want to be with. Then love and duty are one, and there we find grace.

My Father's Day Presents

I got this cool new wine fridge from my wife & kids for Father's Day, plus some new LSU Shirts & a Cap. How cool is that? My old cooler went out after a year and was small. This sucker olds 28 bottles! Salute!

Reconnecting

For the last couple weeks I've been trying to get back in touch with old friends, some I haven't seen in a very long time. It's been fun tracking down some of them and catching up with others. I've been thinking about why this is important to me.

Admittedly the first few years after high school were nuts working our way through college, but pastoring churches consumes your life. Your life revolves around the life cycle of the church and the crises that erupt continuously. I never thought I was better than my old friends, even though a lot of them didn't run in the same church circles that I did. I just didn't have time for friends outside of the church. That's quite a realization when you consider the primary mission of the church should be to befriend those outside the church. Truthfully, the church is a good place to get lost. It's easy to get wrapped up in this safe coddled little world of people who think, look, and live like we do yet manage to find plenty to disagree about. I believe that ministry can be extremely isolating even to the detriment of our health, our marriages, and relationships.

For all that I tried to do, the number one criticism I received from any of the churches that I pastored was that I did not visit the church members enough. I agree. It was a constant source of guilt for me, because the list of people to see was never ending. I fell into crisis management mode and resorted to putting out fires wherever they popped up. At least there was some sort of satisfaction in knowing that you were there for people when they most needed someone, but as the years passed since then, those countless hours, tears, and prayers are forgotten. Those same people I counted as friends have no use for me now. In the meantime of eight to ten years I neglected so many of my friends and family members to give my life to those I didn't even know. I find myself here now alone, feeling like I disappointed everyone. What did it get me? Oh, that's right. It wasn't about me.

So, I'm trying now to reconnect to old friends and family members. I have no delusions. Time has been lost. Distance lies between many of us. Though it can be lessened, it will not be erased. We've missed so much time. I feel that I owe many an apology but have mostly tried to communicate how much they have meant to me. I've made new friends along the way, most on my way out of the church. I'm grateful for them.

I'm reminded of what Richard Bach had to say about friendship. This is a compilation of my favorite quotes:

Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there? Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends. If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were. Rarely do members of the same family grow up under the same roof. The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Your friends will know you better in the first minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a thousand years.

In her book Silver Boxes: The Gift of Encouragement Florence Littauer said that our words should be a gift given to a friend like little silver boxes with bows on top. A special friend who literally lives on the opposite side of the planet from me gave me such a little silver box this week when she wrote me a beautiful message that ended with these words, "You have a special place in our hearts. I have a family here by birth, but you are my family there by choice." I hope you cherish your friendships and find joy in one another.

The Runaway Bunny

The only thing my boys love to do more than play in the dirt is to read books. This morning we must have read 15 books in a row while momma was gone. One of the books we read was a classic you may remember, The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown illustrated by Clement Hurd. It's been a while since I've read it last and this morning it took on new meaning. I've learned to expect to find God in unusual places. I try to be sensitive to the fact that He speaks in many ways and often at odd times. This morning it was in a familiar children's book.

Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away.
So he said to his mother, "I am running away."
"If you run away," said his mother, "I will run after you.
For you are my little bunny."

Tommy Tenney has built an entire ministry around the idea of chasing after God based upon an encounter he had playing with his daughter. Although I've heard him explain it several times, I still don't get it. It's definitely my fault because I've never known a God I had to chase. All my life He's been chasing me, and time after time I run away.

I heard a lot about the thunder and lightning kind of God when I grew up, and I was really scared of Him. Every time I screwed up, I always expected God to punish me for it. Over time warped theology develops into warped psyche. On some level you come to crave guilt and wallow in it. Whenever we discover that God doesn't zap you with lightning, there are two dangerous journeys we are likely to make. We can take easy street casting off all restraint and rejecting authority, or we can embark on a self-induced guilt trip punishing ourselves when others won't. Eventually, even the guilt trip got old, and I got tired of running.

"Shucks," said the little bunny, "I might as well
stay where I am and be your little bunny."
And so he did."Have a carrot," said the mother bunny.

I'm a long way from normal, but I'm learning to let God love me. God won me over. The thunder and lightning stuff didn't phase me. I never found God in that. What blew me away was the relentless love of God for me, a ragamuffin. Every time I stopped running long enough to pay attention, I found God waiting for me, patiently, persistently. I learned just like the runaway bunny that I might as well stay because God has good things for me.

So when I read this story this morning, I saw a snapshot of God. I invite you to read and reflect upon excerpts of this love story as though they came from the mouth of the Shepherd Himself:

"If you become a fish in a trout stream,
I will become a fisherman and I will fish for you."

"If you become a rock on a mountain high above Me,
I will be a mountain climber, and I will climb to where you are."

"If you become a crocus in a hidden garden,
I will be a gardner. And I will find you."

"If you become a bird and fly away from me,
I will be a tree that you come home to."

"If you become a sailboat and sail away from me,
I will become the wind and blow you where I want you to go."

"If you go flying on a flying trapeze,
I will be a tightrope walker, and I will walk across the air to you."

"If you become a little boy and run into the house,
I will become your mother and catch you in my arms and hug you."

This is the way God put it:
"They found grace out in the desert,
these people who survived the killing.
Israel, out looking for a place to rest,
met God out looking for them!"

God told them, "I've never quit loving you and never will.
Expect love, love, and more love!"

~ Jeremiah 31:2,3 The Message

Life Never Better, Death Never More Certain

If you've read much of my blog, you will know that I've been like a kid in the candy store the last year and a half learning to live life all over again. I've been through self-admitted detox to break my addiction to vocational Christianity and have begun the journey to truly know Christ and to know myself. My family is well and happy. I wish I could freeze time and keep my two boys at 4 and 1.5 years old forever, if not for the joy of watching them grow up. I'm in love with my wife who is still my best friend after 13 years. My business is finally turning a corner, and 2006 is looking to be my best year yet. I'm in love with life and am pursuing my passions.

Before you think I'm in a state of disillusioned euphoria, let me tell you that I have never been more in touch with reality. My mood vacillates almost as much as the balance in my checkbook. All things considered life is good, very good, and for that reason death is beginning to sting. Watching my kids grow up and the seasons change makes time seem to race on by. Who knows how many more years God will allow me. Forty, if I'm lucky. 1976 didn't used to seem that long ago. My grandparents are getting older, and their health is failing. My grandfather was invincible when we were growing up, and now he seems very human. My grandmother has alzheimers and doesn't even know her own husband or her own children anymore.

I read the Bible differently these days. I try to read it for what it really says, not for what I want it to say, or for what others have told me it says. [This is the point in the movie where you may want to change channels for a bit or risk getting really messed up theologically.] I'm not so sure anymore what I believe about heaven and hell. If both are real, something tells me people won't be divided up so nice and neatly as we've been led to believe. If Jesus told us anything about it, He said that there will be a lot of surprises for many people. Some days I default to the nice Sunday School version of life that allows you to sleep in peace knowing that you're an insider and have nothing to worry about. Some days I think that the blood of Christ covers every sin and no one is turned away. Some days I wonder if we just don't die like every other creature and cease to be, simply return to the earth from which we came. No matter, death still stings.

I fell in love with the music of Johnny Cash some time last year, especially his later recordings. Johnny Cash was a man in touch with death and pain. He was able to vocalize what we think and feel about death like no other. You cannot listen to his music and not come face to face with your own mortality, which, I believe, is the key to truly enjoying life. The stark reality of death makes life more precious.

I don't think we should live in fear of death but nor should we surrender to it. I've seen many terminally ill people over the years who cling to every last breath they can muster long after their body has given out. There is something in the human spirit that fights against death and clings to life. I'm not afraid to die, but not because I know exactly what happens after death. I'm not afraid to die, because I know God and trust Him to do with me what He will. Until my time comes, and it will, I will celebrate life and enjoy every day I'm given. One day, I will fight the good fight then lay this body down and rest in Him.

Just Showing Off

Timothy wrote his name for the first time! Way to go, Timothy! He just turned 4. (The first one is mom's example.)