Faith Differential

"And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith." - Matthew 13:58

"For we live by faith, not by sight" - 2 Corinthians 5:7

Jesus came to his own hometown, to those he knew best and who should've known him best, and was questioned, cross-examined and doubted. In response we get the impression that he was saddened and disappointed. In part of Matthew 13:57 Jesus says "A prophet is not without honor except in his own home town and in his own home."  It was the reply to those around him. But the first part of that passage says a lot. The people had taken "offense at him".

Can you believe it? They were offended by the presence of Christ, right there in their midst. Amazing. And yet...how different do we sometimes act in his midst? I mean it. How different? I doubt by much. Some of us have turned to prosperity preachers, a holistic faith or self-help guru's all because we have taken offense at the message of Christ. Maybe we can handle the physical demands of the ten commandments but not the mental or emotional demands that Jesus brought to the table. Moses demanded a steadfastness of faith, firm as a tall tree. Jesus came and talked of faith the size of a mustard seed, then demanded that we grow. On the surface it is a faith differential. Two concepts of faith, one Old Testament based and the other New Testament based, asking us to "be" and to "believe" in radically different ways. Can I be honest? The first time I met Jesus, face to face there in my bible, do you want to know what my response was? I said, "You're kidding, right?"

Growing is painful. It hurts. I'm hurting right now. Maybe you were hurting last week, or last month. Maybe you will be hurting tomorrow. I will spare you the inspirational Pinterest post-it's and cheesy advice to keep a stiff upper lip and instead I will remind you that even Jesus hurt, so much so that he stopped performing miracles for awhile, rejected as he was, cast aside and sneered at. It was a precursor to what the Romans would do to him soon enough and the amazing thing is he knew that. In the midst of his suffering at that moment he knew there was still worse to come and yet he still pushed on.

If that doesn't inspire you? Nothing will.

Paint Me In Colors

“One of the tragedies of our life is that we keep forgetting who we are” - Henri Nouwen

Have you ever noticed the inconsistency of "being"? Of who you are? Of who you think you are? Of who others think you are? Why is that? Because you are none of the above. You are who God thinks you are.

To submit yourself to definitions based on human perspectives is fruitless and a little insane. I mean, how often do YOUR opinions change about other people, in the course of a day or over the span of a lifetime? Now...if a hundred people know that person and you add all of their definitions to the mix? What chance does any human being have when weighed down with that many definitions? It's no different for you.

A lot of what we face in life - depression, anxiety, insecurity, insomnia, loneliness - are things rooted in fear. I mean, people spend thousands of dollars on a good therapist to dig deep enough into themselves to find exactly that: fear. Maybe of rejection, or of not being good enough, or of the future, or of the past. Take a soul and turn it loose in this world, then tie it down with ropes of worry and what do you get? A tortured soul indeed.

God did not create your soul and bring you into this world to be tortured. He did not ask you to ever, ever, ever be defined by what other people think of you or need from you or want of you. He asked you to love others AS YOU WOULD LOVE YOURSELF. Not in a vain way. Not in a "I'm more special than so-and-so" way. But in a simple, knowing and loving way.

Accept who you are. Strive to evolve. Acknowledge the scars and wounds this world has inflicted on you and that you have inflicted on yourself...then overcome them. Lean on God, who has painted you in all your many colors and knows where best you need a little more detail, a little more depth and a little more perspective.

Then open your eyes and see just how amazingly beautiful you truly are.

Anthony Says...

I pick up Anthony from school. He climbs into the car looking a bit perplexed.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
Anthony says "Girls are crazy, Dad."
I ask him why.
"Because you can never tell what they really mean."
I almost crash the car realizing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my 12 year old my son is a bona-fide genius. I'm thinking where I should take him for an I.Q. test when he belches and tells me that he also thinks math is stupid.
So much for genius.
We debate homework vs X-Box time for a bit. I tell him we've gotta swing by the bank.
"Why do we always have to go to the bank, Dad?"
"Because there's never enough money."
"So, if there's never enough money... why go to the bank?"
"Because that's where the money is at." I refrain from adding "smart ass". I'll save that for his teens.
But he's MY son, so he doesn't let it go. "So...what then?"
"So what then, what??? We need money, we're going to the bank to get some."
He nods. "Good. 'Cause I'm hungry."
"Who says we're going to get money to buy you food?"
"Well, I just thought, ya know...when we have money...well, why not?"
I do the unthinkable and go cliche on him, "Ya know, money doesn't grow on trees."
"What?" He says, looking at me like his sister does sometimes, like I'm stupid.
"I said money doesn't grow on trees."
He bottles up his face and looks at me quizzically, "Well, of course it doesn't."
We're getting nowhere in this conversation. So we begin to verbally fence.
"The point is, when you want money, you get a job. That's how you get money." (Strike)
"That's the only way to get money?" (Parry)
"Short of committing a crime, yes. So you better be ready to get a job soon." (Strike)
"I'm twelve."  (Parry)
"Exactly." (Strike)
"Exactly what?" (Parry)
"You're one year away from thirteen, when I got my first job." (Strike)
 Silence (Time Out)
We go to the bank and afterwards I decide pull one over on him. It's a Dad's right. I exercise it frequently, as both of my children know.
"You still want a burger or something, boy?"
Big smile. "Yeah, Dad."
I reply with a bigger smile."Good. We'll get your favorite kid's meal...and an application while we're there."
My son wears glasses, which only enhances his bug-eyed look of shock."No, Dad."
I can barely contain my laughter."Why not?"
The car is silent as we get to the McDonald's and go through the drive thru. He orders his cheeseburger mini-meal (alas the kid's meals days are over, sigh) but I can tell he's not so hungry anymore. When we get to the window I pay and...ask if they're hiring!
He resorts to the nuclear option immediately. "I'm telling Mom."
I smile and tell the drive-thru kid to never mind.
As we drive home I glance in the rear view mirror. My son has the look on his face of a man who has just escaped a drastic fate.
"I forgot," I say, just as he's finally relaxed.
"What?"
"We need to get your work permit first."
Bug eyes again.

Sing, Song, Sung

By now U2 is a well known band. The story is simple: four boys from Dublin get together when one of them posts a note on a school bulletin board. Their parents think they're crazy, especially the drummer's parents, who had him in formal lessons, never dreaming that - horror of horrors - he would turn to rock & roll. They were a heavily Christian band (with the exception of their bassist) until they realized it was taking them off point at the time (and out of the mainstream). From day one, they had a political objective and something to say about a whole host of things. So they said them and have continued to say them for over thirty years now.

One of the joys of going to a U2 concert is that you can tell the real fans from the casual fans right away. How? The casual fans know the songs. The real fans are the songs. They almost always have an intimate story of how one song or another affected them personally. I love getting to a gig early and swapping these stories because it makes the event much more holistic. You're there for a beer and some good music, yes, but you also discover how the same song not only helped you through the loss of your first love in high school but also, 1500 miles away, helped a young girl through her unplanned pregnancy. I'm sure fans of Springsteen and other bands have the same experiences. That's one of the special beauties of music: it connects us all in a very unique way. Think about it, we rarely talk about how the same novel, or movie, or play, or painting helped us through a moment in our lives. As a writer it pains me to admit that but I think it's true. Each form of art may have its own ability to influence, inspire and affect us (that's a topic for another day) but I think music is special.

As for me? "Eleven O'Clock, Tick Tock" will always be the soundtrack to the night I went to my first junior high dance, quaking in my Vans (where I did a great job of holding up the wall all night). "The Unforgettable Fire" will always remind of that bitch who ripped my heart out : ) "Surrender" will always be the song I wrote one of my first short stories to. "Bad" will forever be the song that made me sit still, and heal, for the first time in my life. "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of" came along to coax me on, about a year after my father died, when I just couldn't get past my grief. "It's A Beautiful Day" will never stop being the song that came on the radio as I drove, worried sick and terrified, to the hospital where my son, having been born eleven weeks early, had been rushed, fighting for his life...as soon as I heard that song I promise you that I knew that Anthony would be just fine. Then there was "Lemon", an older song that I rediscovered by accident around the same time that Sophia's adoption process took a complicated turn, and those closing lyrics ("Midnight is when the day begins...") guided me with hope each day. And, lastly, spanning like a bridge from my 14 year old self to the old turd that writes these words today, there will always be "40", the lyrics  lifted from Psalm 40. Which, of course, led me to the Bible.

I smile as I write that. Because, you see, you can find entire websites now that break down the many hundreds of biblical references and/or quotes in a library of songs that covers over thirty-six U2 albums (singles and compilations included). The Christian band never stopped being so. They just went covert, amazingly weaving the soft whisper of scripture in between two guitars, a drum set and one of the most unique voices ever.

Think

"Under all that we think, lies all we believe, like the ultimate veil of our spirit." - Antonio Machado

So? What do you think? About life. About fear. About loneliness, and space, happiness and those quiet reflections you have from time to time, while you're driving in the car in the company of a good song that's on the radio, or when you're tracing doodles in the condensation of your beer bottle while sitting at the bar, with absolutely no company at all?

I used to believe that I was in everything, and everything was in me. Until I realized that was a state of spirit that required a constant state of mind, nearly superhuman, which I could not maintain even on the quietest of mountaintops. I used to believe that the more you pursued something, the further away you pushed it so, conversely, if you really wanted it you should be still and let it come to you, until I realized that a life of waiting for love or salvation was no life at all. I preferred Robert Frost and his Road Less Traveled over waiting for someone or something to come rolling my way down the road.

The magic of a human life is not about happenstance. It's not about will, either. You may choose a road, a path, down either side of the many forks that make up your life, but that choice is a beautiful conglomeration of thoughts, ideas, beliefs and desires that so many people have given you, flushed out of you, nourished in you or broken in spite of you. To this day I still make decisions with my father's help, even though he's been dead almost 14 years. Because his imprint is in me, like the twists and twirls of his fingertips I am his identity, left behind now, to bear witness to the wisdom of his lessons and the blessings of his presence. I get that. My tiny mind can understand and encompass it. So when I'm asked to stand firm for a Holy Father, when I study that relationship, there's no great epiphany for me. I just get it. That's all. Yes it's different in its holiness but oh, so familiar in its reality.

You're no different in theory, but very different in context. Your story is different than mine, as are your imprints and your hurts, your victories and your struggles. You are a map. So many roads. Don't worry. Just take the turns that feel like home, to who you really were, because that's what has led you to who you really are now.

A New Look, A New Listen

"My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." Thomas said to him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." - John 14:3-6

Atheism: The belief that there was nothing and nothing happened to nothing and then nothing magically exploded for no reason, creating everything and then a bunch of everything magically rearranged itself for no reason what so ever into self-replicating bits which then turned into dinosaurs. Makes perfect sense. - Unknown

"I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. ... Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God." - C.S. Lewis / Mere Christianity

Like it or not Jesus does throw down the gauntlet. It took me a long time to accept this. I tried to wiggle my way around it, ignore it or simply rationalize it away. But I've begun this blog with that quote from James because, well, there is no wiggle room, you can't ignore it and - though faith can be rational - it is not the foundation of true belief.

Atheists - and I know a few - rail against Jesus because of what his followers have done (the crusades, abortion clinic protests, etc.). But that is unfair and only confuses the issue. Jesus came. He loved. At no point did he say "Go kill Muslims!" or "Go and corner that fourteen year old pregnant girl and mock her shame." Quite the contrary. He wept over unkindness, preached that a Samaritan (the despised people of the Jews) could be kinder than a Rabbi and knelt down to draw a line in the sand to protect a woman about to be stoned to death for adultery. And while we're on the topic? At no point, ever, did he walk up to someone and say "Believe in me or you're going to hell." I know too many people deeply scarred by a Christian who lobbed the "hell grenade" at them. It's sad. Jesus preached over and over again that we are not to judge, harm or condemn our fellow man. Judgement is up to God. He did, however, state clearly that he was the way to the Father. Again. That gauntlet. But guess what? Even that he does amidst parables, pleading and praying. For me. For you. For everyone.

The C.S. Lewis quote is one of my favorites and it carries us to the decision point of believing or not believing in Christ. In dismisses outright the notion that he was just a great teacher, life coach or wise prophet by using - oddly enough - Jesus' own words against him. Christ says "I am the Son of God." and "I am the way, the truth and the life." He doesn't say "I am one of many who can lead you through this life and on to the next." He doesn't say "Buy my speech on parchment paper, on sale by one of the apostles after the service." He wasn't up for debate and he wasn't for sale. What he did say, in many ways, over and over again?  "Listen to me."

agit8

"Sing to the Lord a new song..." Psalm 96:1

One of the greater joys of life is in discovering a context to it all. We often view things from one perspective or another, never realizing that, more often than not, few things are that simple. We need only breach a conversation about how to solve a "simple" problem like bringing water or the malaria vaccine to Africa before we realize, very shortly, that we've walked smack dab into a quagmire of political rivalries, tribal resentments and government mismanagement of resources. It shouldn't be that hard but, in truth, it's just not that easy. Hundreds of thousands will die of thirst and the want of a simple vaccine that, as Bono has pointed out, costs less than $1.00 per person to provide.

It's easy to be defeatist, to throw our hands up to God, to feel shame at bearing witness to the fact that, by all appearances, a human life is not even worth a SINGLE dollar. It's only when one steps back to ascertain the real culprit here - evil, as it lives and grows in the hearts and minds of men - that the battle becomes apparent. Over seventy years ago it was a monster sweeping across Europe with reckless abandon, killing at will, burning people in ovens and flush with a desire for power. Our greatest mistake then as a quiet nation was our very silence and, by the time we acted, it was almost too late.

But now we are not a tiny nation. We are the richest, strongest nation in the world. The enemy is not one man but an insidious wall of apathy. This doesn't mean we can wave the wand (or the stick) of democracy and force tribes with centuries old bitterness between them to come together, or power-wash their governments clean of corruption. We must remember the old adage about a trickle of water, how over time it will wear smooth the roughest of rocks, one drop at a time.

Don't let the enemy tell you that one tiny voice, your voice, is all for naught. It's for God, who is big enough to take the accumulated efforts and the tiniest gestures and turn them into a wave of love. Please visit the one.org website and join the agit8 campaign. They don't want your money. They want your voice. Extreme poverty in the world has already been cut in half and it's possible that it can be completely eradicated by 2030 if enough of us push the governments of the world hard enough.

Right now 100 artists are performing their favorite protest songs as part of the agit8 campaign. Why don't you join them, add your voice and sing along?