The next morning the Jews formed a conspiracy and bound themselves with an oath not to eat or drink until they had killed Paul. More than forty men were involved in this plot.
Acts 23:12-13
I wonder what went through their heads when they saw the 200 soldiers, 70 horsemen, and 200 spearmen that accompanied Paul that night…
Its funny to me the reactions I get toward my cd title. It reminds me of the chapel services I used to lead at GLCC. After almost each one I would have some students thank me while other students would tell me how I offended them. The last few reactions I’ve had toward my cd have had a similar split. I had one guy read it who was obviously rich (or in serious debt and denial), laughed and just kept walking. Another fellow picked it up, read “prayer, and sinner” in the song titles and became offended and said, “I don’t like to talk about those things,” and promptly walked away. “Who does?” I thought to myself. And still I’ve had others thank me for the music and the honesty.
I was thinking of the guy who got offended and the Spirit whispered something- Probably the most devastating claim to the evangelization of the Gospel, especially in a culture that worships “self”, is that we are sinners and that we need Someone greater than us.
It is a tough pill to swallow, but the side effects are blessings. We have the opportunity to become something more than what we could make of ourselves. We take part in a greater cause than recycling, feeding the poor, or world peace, because with Him we are dealing with the eternal.
I want to run down this path even if I am an insult to some and a joke to others, because I serve a God who makes water into wine, who takes a meager meal and feeds thousands. My God makes paupers rich.
God bless,
Brian
Blessed is the Man who walked to counsel the wicked,
who made a way for sinners and ate with them,
and sat in their seat and got mocked for it.
His delight is to fulfill the law of the LORD
and to live it day and night.
He was nailed to a tree,
and from Him come streams of living water,
which yields the fruit of the Kingdom in season
bringing eternal life to the believer.
Whatever He does is good.
Even for the wicked there is hope.
They are priceless and not to be thrown away.
Therefore the wicked have a chance at salvation
for Jesus died for both the righteous and the sinner
and invites them all into His assembly.
For the LORD watches over us all,
and doesn’t want anyone to perish
but to believe in Jesus and live.
Today at church I witnessed a 3 Star General from Saddam Hussein’s army get baptized. The lead pastor at Trinity has been talking with him about Jesus for a while now. He learned a lot about the General’s past as a soldier under Hussein’s rule. When Saddam ordered his men to kill innocent people, the General wouldn’t obey. He went to prison for his actions. As a devout Muslim he read the Koran and followed it closely. It says (more or less) that to kill innocent people is to anger Allah.
Through their conversations, the General found Jesus to be who he was seeking for and decided to commit his life to Him. His conversion brought up thoughts to me about Osama. When the General came up out of the water, I was one of the first to stand clapping. My emotions caught me off guard, I didn’t realize how compassionate I was to his story. Truly the victory was greater.
I couldn’t help but feel pain at Osama’s fate. It would’ve been an even greater victory to have witnessed that tyrant seek forgiveness for the atrocities he had committed. It would’ve been an even greater victory for him to have submitted to the One who already had holes in his hands and feet for us rather than to receive the one he got in his head.
I fully respect and appreciate the work of the Navy Seals and what they accomplished for the sake of the rest of us still here. But after witnessing the General, I wished it could have been Osama’s story too. I understand that conversion for Osama wouldn’t have saved him from the justice he was due here, and he may still have been killed, I’m simply saying that the victory would have been greater.
The sky rose up above my head, distant stars shining with such presence I felt I could gather them in my fingers. But like sand they escape my grasp. My spirit lifted me that I may take my place among them. Everything in motion, the light they shine passes through me. I am somehow less firm in the company of the stars. I see myself as crude matter next to their glorious bodies.
But this is not so. For though I’m fallen creation I live in the crucible of free will. The stars continue in their purpose, there is no rebellion there. But I have to discover mine and submit to it.
Such a delicate dance, so effortless for them to obey. And yet for me, I am at war to keep my pace in step with His. Each foot I put in front of the other is a battle. And yet I learn from the stars, their fluid motion, their twinkling brilliance, their order with creation that all may exist. For such things to be there must be obedience.
O sometimes I envy the stars, they only ever shine, it is their nature. But I, in my freedom sometimes shine, sometimes not. I understand that when I am faithful my light shines greater than all the stars in heaven, but sometimes I would trade my freedom that I would actually be one.
And yet, I know that Jesus paid the price for my freedom and that I should be grateful, but at times, its almost blasphemous to think, I still envy the stars.
A tree knowing where its source of life comes from and turning its leaves to get more is worship. Growing branches that strain to get as much as it can, sometimes even recklessly upraised and unbalanced. Roots digging through the earth passed rocks and clay in search of water drinking as deeply as they can.
A tree knows that it can live off nothing less, so it grows and reaches and becomes a blessing to others providing homes for birds, squirrels, and many other creatures and providing shade and fruit for the traveler.
Living worship is more than a thought on a page, more than acts of kindness to a stranger. It is greater than the fellowship of community, and more powerful than the martyr’s sacrifice. It is everyday giving glory to the One who is all with each and every breath, in and out, each and every thought and action, each and every movement and stillness. Reaching toward our source of life with everything we are and growing to be a blessing, bearing fruit filled with thoughts, acts of kindness, communal fellowship, and sacrifice.
Peace to you on our snow day.
Brian
Let me begin with a warning, fire is dangerous when not handled safely. Do not try anything with it without an adult present and perhaps a functional extinguisher and a cell phone with 911 on speed dial.
I was introduced to the dramatic flash and flame of Coffeemate Creamer powder when I was in Junior High, back in the 80’s. A friend of mine poured a little single packet over a lit match, and I was hooked. After that I experimented with many other flammable sources but I always came back to Coffeemate. I would take a handful and toss it over a well lit camp fire and FLASH, it would light up the night sky.
In my always and ever concern to include others in all things freaking awesome, I developed what began to be called, “The Community Fireball”. Basically I would take a canister of generic creamer powder and hand out handfuls to people who formed a half-circle around the fire- with the wind at their backs! (Oh the lessons learned when giving a metaphor to 30+ willing participants at a Freshman Orientation Retreat)
I would then begin with a devotional thought about what we can accomplish on our own in comparison to when we pour our resources in with others, a basic truth discovered back during the building of the tower of Babel, but when applied to Christians taps into the advancement of the Kingdom of God as Jesus prayed for in John 17. I know to think this way pulls at the fabric of many churches, and it should because I’ve seen flames stretch up 20+ feet in the air, reminiscent of the pillar of fire God used to guide His people with by night.
The highest I’ve gotten on my own is maybe 6 feet of flame. Jesus calls us the “light of the world”, and He prayed for us to be “one” just as He and His Father are One, so that, and here’s the kicker- “to let the world know that You have sent me and have loved them even as You have loved me.” So by being unified as Jesus prayed for, we are evangelizing to the world.
There’s a group called COGL (Churches of Greater Lansing) who are planning a food drop this February for families in need. I believe it is a group of more than 30 churches and I’m very excited to see the influence and effect this act of love will have on the surrounding communities. Who knows, it might just change the city as Jesus’ followers reach out in love to those in need. I betcha this flame will be so big it will be seen from Heaven.
Go ahead, grab a handful and come along. Let’s all throw in to that great consuming Fire and see how far the Light will shine.
-Brian
I love building fires, whether its on the river during a wilderness trip, or at home heating the house. For me, there’s something spiritual about it, even if the Bible would have never said anything about God being a consuming fire. But it does, in fact fire is mentioned many times throughout Scripture from Divine action to description to everyday function. Many times its presence is connected with the power of God. His cleansing power through crucible, His saving power amidst persecution, His guiding power through darkness, altogether it is indeed a mighty physical manifestation of something intangible but felt and seen keenly.
But what I like most about fire is breathing into it. For a fire to build sometimes it is necessary to blow into it, and even when its not, I do it. The roar of the flames that rages to life when I blow out the air of my lungs into its hungry coals always catches me for a moment. Long enough for my lips to feel the intense heat I just blew into life, and then my nose breathes in the warmth as if the fire is responding in kind. I think for a moment what it must have felt like for Isaiah to have his lips touched by a coal from the altar. That atoning ritual commissioned him for his prophetic role to the people of God. And there are other times when I consider myself the flame, my soul a pile of wood waiting for the breath of God to bring me to life, to engage me in the outpouring of His will on the earth.
I love building fires, it should be a sacrament, or at least a ritual. It is for me.
There is no comfortable distance between You and I,
You, that great consuming fire, and I, a tinder box.
-Brian
Sometimes things hit me a little differently as I get older. Candlelight Services have always been a tradition no matter what church I’ve attended but tonight, as I was in the upper deck at Trinity, I got a different view than the one I’m used to. Like for many people, experiences with Christians have been a mixed bag. They are some of the meanest/nicest, cruel/kind, selfish/generous, arrogant/humble people I have known. But no matter the darkness that may be in each of us who claim Christ as Lord, there is a light that persists even against our worldly nature. This same nature that proves so hard to cast off at times takes a front seat in many of our interactions, but then there’s this light.
Tonight I looked down and watched as hundreds of people who once were in darkness had a small flame passed to them by their neighbor. And slowly, it filled the room. The house lights were shut off but I could hardly tell. For the moment, everyone was free from darkness and were joined in singing Silent Night. This light they carried was a candle, but as we celebrated our Savior’s birth it stood, like the star, for His presence in our lives. This light, not glowing from anything we’ve done, not because of our status or background, but for our present and our future, shines to give us a hope not attached to anything here. This light, when held aloft as our identity, our soul source of joy and peace, spreads, for each one of us has a wick.
At one point we shared an identity greater than our own, greater than anything that can be done by a crowd of any size. We were sharing in the joy of the magi, the fulfillment of the prophets, the worship of angelic hosts and as a result, all our darkness was as chaff. This light, this small candle began to represent for me something much more than a stick of wax with some string in it, it was Jesus in us shining His light to this darkened world regardless of our darkened selves. We become illumined not because of us, but because we agreed to believe that He came for us.
What would it be like to live humbly knowing that our achievements here, no matter how great, will always pale in comparison to what has been done for us and the greatest thing we could ever do is acknowledge it?
The moment passed and it was time to blow out our candles. On the count of three we did. It was startling how drastic the darkness was, and without that small flame, that is all we will ever have. This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine… hide it under a bushel, no! Won’t let Satan pff it out… I’m gonna let it shine.
God bless,
Merry Christmas,
Brian