Posts Tagged ‘cross

28
Jul
20

“The Beast Tamer”

Hedge trimmer“OK. That’s it,” I said to myself. “Today is the day!”

My exasperation with the state of the hedge along our back fence finally hit the breaking point last Friday. I headed to the garage in search of the hundred-foot-long extension cord, step ladder, and electric clippers… preparing to tame the unruly green beast.

I had been putting off this loathsome chore for several weeks now, but the time had finally come. Several small pets from around the neighborhood had apparently gotten lost inside my hedge and their owners were concerned.

My hedge comes honestly by its nickname “The Beast.” It is at least 100 feet long and – when allowed to grow unchecked – reaches 12 or 15 feet in height. Not content to grow upward, it also bushes out horizontally in a very shaggy, unkempt manner.

With all equipment finally in order (and Joan standing by, ready to dial 911), I began to operate.

About ten minutes into the procedure, I was interrupted by the delightful Scottish brogue of Hugh, our neighbor-behind-the-hedge. Hugh had come out onto his deck, was waving his arm and cheerfully hailing me. “Hey there, neighbor! Would you like to borrow THIS? It’ll make the job a lot easier!”

In Hugh’s left hand was a shiny red electric hedge trimmer with a 22-inch blade. My sad excuse for a hedge tool had only a stubby 16-inch blade.

Hugh (and no, I did not make up this name. My Scottish neighbor really IS named “Hugh.”) headed over and in the twinkling of an eye was standing at the base of my ladder, red, 22” trimmer in hand.

“Here… let me show you how it works,” Hugh said. And in an instant, he had commandeered my extension cord and began trimming massive swaths of hedge. “You see,” he said, “You really need to get right back there or else you’ll be out here again in two weeks doing the same thing.”

After turning over his red “Beast Tamer” to me, Hugh exited by the rear gate, but not before saying, “And don’t worry about the top. I’ll just trim that from my side when you’re done.”

And then, in less time than it took me to grab Hugh’s hedge trimmer and ascend the step ladder, I sensed that a mystical transformation had taken place. Suddenly, an EVENT (a neighbor stopped what he was doing and helped me trim my hedges) became a STORY (“I live in this great neighborhood where people go out of their way to help each other.”)

And hopefully, in the retelling of this dull, dry, quotidian event I have been able to illustrate something that is both a primary penchant, but also a fundamental need of human beings everywhere… the need for STORIES. (To that end, may I recommend one of my favorite bloggers to you, Mitch Teemley and his blog, The Power of Story at: https://mitchteemley.com).

Every day you and I stumble through a collection of seemingly happenstance, unrelated moments of our lives. We get up, water the house plants, walk the dogs, shower, eat a little yogurt and granola, and do a thousand other things before we turn off the bedside lamp and close our eyes.

Throughout that haphazard progression, we are niggled by a fundamental hunger for MEANING. We look at this tangle of these random, multi-colored threads and ACHE to believe that if we flip the frame over and look at the other side, we will see a beautiful, flowing, coherent, tapestry. A yearning to make sense of the world around us is an essential part of being human. In our heart of hearts, we know that a narrative of randomness and arbitrarity is ultimately corrosive to our souls.

And so, we must each choose the narrative we will live by.

Not just the one that helps make sense of today, but the one that helps make sense of FOREVER. Because it is only in the setting of that meta-narrative that our mundane mini-narratives can add up to anything at all.

Today I join the Old Testament hero Joshua in declaring, “As for me and my household, we will serve [choose] the Lord.” (Joshua 24:15, NRSV).

And trust me when I tell you, in my life I have done extensive shopping at the Narrative Mall and after much painful trial and error, I have chosen THIS ONE as the one I will live by.

Why?

Because as Beast Tamers go, this one beats them ALL!

 

Abundant blessings;

06
Apr
20

What would YOU do?

Palm-Sunday-processionalWhat if?

What if you KNEW – with all the confidence you could muster – that things were going to turn out badly?

What if – more specifically – you knew that the path your friend was walking would lead him to a horrible, humiliating death before the week was over?

What if you loved this friend profoundly … in a way that surpassed any love you’ve ever felt before?

And what if you also knew that your friend could easily avoid the horror that waited down his road… that all he needed to do was to just…

… ease up,

… back off,

… dial it down a little?

What would you do?

This is the question I spend every Holy Week trying to avoid. I avoid this question because it frightens me.

It frightens me because I have a pretty good idea what my answer would be.

If I ever had the guts to confront the question, that is.

I suspect that if I had been in the shoes of 11 of the 12 disciples that first Holy Week (all of them except Judas), I would have dealt with the events of that week exactly the same way they did.

In avoidance.

In denial.

In rationalization.

In all likelihood, my self-talk would have gone something like, “Surely it won’t be that bad. Surely, he will work something out. Surely his predictions of his own arrest and torture and death were hyperbole… statements made for dramatic effect.”

I would have been encouraged and excited by the palm processional the day before. “Look how much they love him! Surely, they would not DARE to arrest someone this popular. He was just being a little overly sensitive, wasn’t he?”

No… if I were to own up to my striking resemblance to those first disciples, it would require owning up to something else: a fundamental misunderstanding of Jesus’ mission and message.

It would require me to stand up in front of the world and say, “Sorry… I just can’t seem to get ‘on board’ with this whole ‘to die is to live’ platform. It really just seems unnecessarily harsh and painful. Let’s just all try a little harder to be a little better, shall we?”

And then, as that Good Friday morning dawned and that rooster began to crow, I would look over to find myself standing where no one ever wants to be found…

… standing right beside Peter; the one who denied Jesus three times.

 

So, let me ask: what would YOU do?

18
Jun
18

In or out?

Apologies in advance to the comedian who said this originally, because I thought it was really funny.

But as much as I would like to give credit where credit is due, I can’t remember your name.

Commenting on the popularity of the cross as an item of jewelry, your line was something like: “I am pretty sure that when he does come back again, the absolute LAST thing Jesus is going to want to see is a CROSS! He’ll be like, ‘Is this somebody’s idea of a cruel joke! That thing gives me NIGHTMARES!’”

It’s a funny line. And he (the comedian) is probably right.

But that doesn’t keep me from getting up every morning, reaching into the miscellaneous whatnot keeper on my closet shelf, and grabbing for the cross necklace lying there.

As you can see from the photo here, it’s a pretty nice one.My cross

It was a seminary graduation present from my loving wife.

No, it is not raw, roughhewn wood, stained with blood and pockmarked with nail holes. And yet, attractive as it is, I am sure it would still give Jesus the heebie-jeebies.

There is never a question about whether I will wear my cross on a given day. But there is ALWAYS the question – IN? or OUT? As in, “Will I wear the cross on the inside of my shirt or on the outside?

For me, each of these alternatives has both an upside and a downside.

The upside of the choice to wear the cross inside my shirt is that it becomes a gently thumping form of personal reminder. As I walk, I can feel it lightly tapping my chest as if to say, “Hey, buddy… don’t forget. You decided to give your life to Christ and to speak words and do deeds that are consistent with who He is! Represent well, homie!”

The downside, of course, is that wearing the cross inside the shirt sometimes feels as if I am HIDING my faith… you know, chickening out and keeping it under wraps.

Wearing my cross on the outside of the shirt, of course, solves that problem. It puts it right out there for all passers-by to see. It becomes a walking proclamation that declares, “Hey! Check it out! Jesus follower here! Anybody want to hear a little Good News? I’m your guy!”

The downside of outside is that very visibility. It can feel a little “holier-than-thou” at one end of the spectrum and “intolerant-of-thou” at the other… neither of which – I believe – is helpful to the cause of Christianity.

Most of the time my default is “inside.” This is mainly because I feel as if need to be reminded of my faith decision MUCH MORE OFTEN than others do.

And also because I do not believe Bible scholars have yet discovered a heretofore unseen coda to Matthew 28:20 that says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit… being sure to wear all the cross jewelry and Christian fish symbols you can in the process.”

And finally, I guess I default to “inside the shirt” because, even though I was only six years old the first time I sang it, I still hold fast to the wisdom of that camp song that reminds us that, “They will know we are Christians BY OUR LOVE…”

… and not by the crosses we wear, or by the ecstatic hands we raise in worship, or by the fish symbols on our bumpers, or by the way we vote, or by the number of times we say, “Father God…” when we pray out loud.

Please understand; I am not judging you harshly if you are a person who has decided to wear the cross visibly as part of your daily wardrobe. In fact, I actually admire the boldness of your witness.

I am just saying that the challenge I seek to rise to is the challenge of allowing my life to demonstrate my faith… and not to be bad advertising for it when it doesn’t.

 

So… what will it be today?

In? Or out?

30
May
17

Why Not the Cross?

the-cross-300x261WIIFM. No. Those are not the call letters of a new radio station on the FM dial.

It is also not a funny way of saying the word for the goal of a baseball pitcher when facing an opposing batter. (Whiff ‘em. Get it??)

WIIFM is a shorthand version of a question that guides many of the creative decisions of people who work in mass marketing.

I am familiar with this secret code lingo because I used to work in that business.

WIIFM stands for: “What’s In It For Me?”

The advice given to an eager young marketer goes something like this: “It’s fine and dandy to stand up and trumpet all the things that make your product the best thing since sliced bread. Your customer doesn’t give two hoots about any of that. The only question they want you to answer is ‘What’s in it for me?’”

And you know what? The folks dispensing that advice are right.

When I am standing there in the middle of Home Depot, I really don’t care how many coats of paint or what kind of paint this barbeque grill has, or why the grate is such a marvelous design, or how many BTU’s it heats up to.

I just want you to tell me how my life will improve by buying this particular grill.

And honestly… if I am using my resources for anything more expensive than a pack of gum, my only question (well, besides “How much does it cost?”) is going to be, “What’s in it for ME?”

WIIFM is a question that works well in the mass marketing profession.

I guess that is why it is SO TEMPTING to try and use it when I am talking to someone about the Christian faith.

It is no secret that the fastest growing segment of the FAITH universe today is the group that checks the box labeled “None of the above” when asked about their religious preference.

Pastors, volunteer leaders, members of religious hierarchies of all stripes are wringing their hands and wracking their brains to figure out how to stem the tide of decline in the mainline church today.

When the first signs of decline began appearing, creative minds began spinning. And it seemed as if the church’s focus was not that different from our market-driven brethren. We tried to understand and respond to the “What’s In It For Me?” question posed by the growing numbers of the None-of-the-Aboves.

We offered rock music, light shows, comfy seating, free coffee, donuts, preferred parking, hand-delivered coffee cups, hip graphics, and video clips, toned-down symbolism, and much more.

And still the decline continued.

Our actions communicate a specific answer to the “What’s in it for me?” question. We seem to say, “Join the church and hear powerful, contemporary music in a comfortable, well-appointed environment, bond with like-minded people, get some motivation and inspiration, see and be seen by your friends, and get a great, rousing start to your week.”

Jesus had a slightly different answer. When he talked to people about following him and they asked, “What’s in it for me?” he said, “A cross. Hardship. Suffering. Ridicule. Rejection. Maybe even death.”

“Oh yeah… and eternal life, too.” (Mark 8:31-38, paraphrased).

In his lifetime, Jesus didn’t “move the needle” a whole lot on the evangelism front. There were a lot of curious bystanders, but not many who heard his recruitment pitch and ran forward saying, “A cross? Really? Where do I sign?”

His numerical results didn’t come until a lot later.

The apostle Paul knew the cross was a “tough sell” in his setting, too. He said, “For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (I Corinthians 1:22-24, NRSV).

There’s no getting around it; you can’t follow Christ without the cross.

So why not just come out and say it and let God do the rest?

It seemed to work out pretty well before.

Abundant blessings;




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