GIVE YOURSELF

For God loves a cheerful giver.

-- 2 Corinthians 9:7

We all know someone with a particularly unique quality. They give. And for the rest of this post, let's not think money. Let's not think stuff. Because after all, more importantly than giving our stuff, is the sacrificial attitude and act of giving ourselves.

We all know someone like that. They give... themselves. They usually do it with a smile. Sometimes with a hug. Often anonymously. Always seeking no credit. Stuff, we can give while seeking notoriety. Ourselves, we cannot.

Love gives...

God loved... 

God gave. 

And we are most like Christ when we love, and give.

Paul was an incredible example of giving of one's self. He wrote: I am poured out like a drink offering... (From Philippians 2:17 and 2 Timothy 4:6).

There is a unique joy in giving. Through the act of giving we prove that nothing holds power over us. And the truest expression of Christian freedom is found in the giving of ourselves. This freedom, this joy is addictive. And God loves it. 

I think God smiles on the person who gives himself/herself away with a giggle.

God, help me to be a sacrifice. Help me to give. I will give myself.

For now...

D

GRACE & PEACE

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

- Philippians 1:2

We live in an instant messaging world. Many communications begin with "Hey..." or "What's up?" And that, if time is even afforded to spell words out rather than offering up obscure abbreviations. (This post's first sentence should have read: ... na IM world.) 

You and I receive emails and texts that seemingly begin halfway through a thought. And like you, I have learned to skim and pick and choose what catches my eye or stands out as important in what I read. 

It is easy to blow through sections of scripture in the same way. When we take time to read, we often jump to something previously highlighted or underlined in our old Bible. 

In my last post (non-recycled, which was far too long ago) I focused on two words: Servants and Saints. I want to do the same here. Paul opens up his letter to the Philippian believers by wishing them - though wishing is a word too weak -

Grace & Peace

It is a common greeting for Paul. But let's not allow familiarity to erase simple beauty; powerful beauty. Grace and Peace.

Grace and Peace share common heritage. Paul states this heritage explicitly: "...from God..." Grace and Peace ultimately find their source in Christ. The two are deeply related in effect and power. But Grace and Peace are not the same. Going back to Sunday School 101, we probably think of Grace and Mercy as being more closely related; kind of two sides of the same coin. (Willpower is keeping me on point and away the tangents calling out right now.)

I'll cut to the chase; and to the inkling of an idea that came to me when I read Paul's greeting. Both Grace and Peace find their origin in God. One - Grace - is a fact, a universal truth (given God is the universal creator). Grace is God's free gift of undeserved love and favor. It is fundamental, universal and pervasive. Grace is God's heart extended to us. Whether received or not, Grace is extended. And Grace governs vast areas of our lives and world that go unnoticed and unseen.

The other - Peace - comes as result of realizing Grace. Peace, also ultimately coming from God, is a state of being. Peace is the reality of experiencing Grace. Peace is the result of personal Grace.

Sometimes we experience Peace by accident. Grace kind of oozes into cracks and corners in our lives unaware, and ...a peaceful easy feeling results. (And it won't let you down...). But often Peace goes unexperienced; because although Grace rules, it is unrealized. Grace goes unrecognized. And therefore, Peace doesn't pervade.

Back to the post I recycled a couple days ago: Grace is good for today. Yesterday's Grace was for yesterday. And tomorrow's?... well, you're ahead of me. Though remembering past Grace can provide some Peace, we must draw on the Grace Christ offers today to fully experience Peace today. To stick with preacher alliteration:

Peace Prevails where Present Grace Permeates. (Dizzy yet?) 

God, because of your grace, I have peace. Increase my peace, as I more deeply experience your grace. 

For now...
D

THIS DAY

Behold, now is the day of salvation. 

- 2 Corinthians 6:2

Today - this day, however much remains of it - is an important day. It is the most important day; because it is the day, the time, we are given.

And in this day, however much remains of it, God wants to do something in our lives, and through our lives.

Spiritual procrastination is an infection. It is an ailment from which we all suffer at times, and to various degrees. Prolonged periods of the affliction dull us to the presence and purpose of God in our lives. (That last sentence may be worth a re-read.) I do not have a guilt-goal here, for you or me; but our misunderstanding of this day's importance (however much remains of it) affects not only us, but others.

Look carefully then how you walk (live), not as unwise but as wise, 

making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.

-- Ephesians 5:15-16. 

We have best intentions about what we will do, or begin, tomorrow. But tomorrows become todays, and before we know it, yesterdays.

Now is the day of salvation. 

It is always in the present that God works in our lives. We can reminisce about what he did in the yesterdays; and that is a good thing. But we cannot live there. As one preacher put it: We can no more operate today on the grace God gave for yesterday than we can drive our car today on the gas that we burned to get around yesterday. 

We also trust him with our tomorrows. And that is a good thing. But we cannot live there. To stay with the metaphor, our grace tank is only large enough to hold what is required for today.

God gives GRACE-GAS for this day, for now. 

Today - however much remains of it - matters. It is the NOW in which God is at work in us and around us. Jesus said to Zacchaeus, "Today salvation has come to this house," (Luke 19:9). Why? How? Because Jesus had come to the house. And that moment was the moment; the Now is the day of salvation moment. 

Jesus has come to our house. And because he is present, this day - however much remains of it - matters. 

God, help me to make the most of the time.

For now...

D

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus...

- Philippians 1:1

I began reading through Philippians this morning. Why? Paul's letter to the Philippians is known as The letter of joy. In the midst of the storms of life, a reminder of joy sounds good to me. 

I didn't get far into my reading when something leapt out; and frankly, it wasn't what I was looking for. 

Paul opens the letter with a fairly normal greeting. In his hello, two words jumped out immediately:

SERVANTS & SAINTS

Paul was an uber-apostle. His writings and influence helped shape the early church and the (our) faith throughout the centuries. His life was a picture of the miraculous and gut-it-out faithfulness. His ears heard the audible voice of Jesus and the grating chorus of detractors. Paul lived for his (our) faith. Paul died for his (our) faith. Paul was a saint. (I know this because his first name is Saint, as in Saint Paul.) 

It's interesting to me that Paul didn't begin his letter: "Paul and Timothy, saints of Christ Jesus, to all the servants..." Nope, the opposite. Paul calls himself (and Timothy) servants, and the everyday people, the holding-on-by-a-fingernail believers, he addresses as saints. 

And that's it for this post. You and I are saints. You and I are servants. I propose that the more Saintly we become, the more Servantly we are. Or maybe, the more Servantly we are (in action), the more Saintly we become. Or... maybe it's both. Yea, I think that's it. 

You and I are SAINTS...

Believe and hold on to it. It's something Christ did for us. 

You and I are SERVANTS:

Live it and do it. It's something Christ does through us. 

God, the only way for me to understand I am a saint is to live as a servant. And the power to truly serve comes from understanding you have made me a saint. 

For now...

D

RENEWED NORMAL

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared...

- Luke 24:1

Jesus is dead. They saw him die. They saw him buried. There is nothing they can do about it.

They have accepted this New Normal; one with a sky a little less bright, smiles a little less broad, hope a little less real. Jesus is dead.

All they can do now is memorialize the past. Go to it's grave and place flowers. Go to Jesus' body and honor who and what he was with burial spices and oils.

This is their New Normal.

Something to think about with New Normals however...

Though moments can feel like eons, often New Normals are only transitions. 

I don't know what happened inside that cave tomb. (I hope to watch the video someday.) What I do know is it was not Normal. Death does not give up his prey. Grave doesn't loosen his grip. 

Normal is: dead saviors stay dead. 

Normal is: isolation in windowless rooms. 

Normal is: fear so real it tastes of metal.  

Normal is: the silence of Saturday carries on, drowning out the melodies of hope and joy. 

Resurrection is not normal. But Jesus was not into normal. (Jesus is not into normal.) 

Saturday's silence was shattered in the way a black night fails in the presence of continual lightning; finally giving way to a cloudless sunrise. A stone was ejected to reveal a grave unoccupied. On a slab, neatly folded burial clothes: "I won't be needing these." 

Jesus begins showing up in strange places. Near his former tomb he meets two women who planned to honor his dead body. And joy is resurrected. He suddenly pops up in a stagnant room filled with fearful former followers. And hope is resurrected. He prepares breakfast on the shore for fishless fishermen, who at his direction came to the sudden realization that they might need bigger boats and stronger nets. Wonder and awe are resurrected.  

In each case, their normal is no longer. It has been renewed. Resurrection Renews Normal. And normal can never be normal again. This resurrected Renewed Normal pervades everything. Every New Normal we face finds its context within the power and perspective of resurrection. 

The storm will pass. 

The pain will end.

The isolation will be broken. 

Now matter how normal each may seem.

Because Jesus changes everything. 

And even normal can never be normal again. 

Jesus has Renewed Normal. 

He is Risen...

(And all the angels shouted...) He is Risen Indeed!

For now...

D

NEW NORMAL... SILENT SATURDAY

A New Normal...

We have heard the words repeatedly the past couple weeks (it seems like months!). We hear them spoken in press briefings. We see them illustrated in television commercials. We read them in numerous memes on social media.

A New Normal...

At times the words inspire me. At others, for some reason, they ring with melancholy. I have some thoughts about Normal vs New Normal that I'll get to in upcoming posts. Today and tomorrow however, I want to take it back a couple thousand years and change. So for today, let's think about the New Normal of a Silent Saturday.

We call it Holy Week. For the band that followed Jesus into the city gates, in what is now known as The Triumphal Entry, the week didn't seem so holy; especially come Saturday.

It was Silent Saturday.  

The adoring crowds? Long gone. The bewildered Temple marketeers? Business as usual. The blood-thirsty self-serving religious elite? High-fiving their victory. Heaven? silent. The would-be savior Jesus? Ingloriously nailed to a cross and now buried. And his piece-meal group of followers? Locked in windowless isolation. Fearful. Hopeless. Questioning. Abandoned.

This was their New Normal.

Their normal had been completely enveloped and invested in a living prophet; a water-walking, storm-calming, sight-restoring, words-of-life-speaking, counter-cultural, emerging king. Really, that normal was actually fairly new in itself. For most, their prior normal had been a mosaic of condemnation, hopelessness, directionless wondering, and falling short. But at Jesus' touch, normal had changed.

But that was then - as recently as a day ago. New Normal is fear. New Normal is hopelessness and heartbreak. New Normal is isolation - as much internal as external. New Normal is abandonment.

Something to think about with New Normals however...

Though moments can feel like eons, 

often New Normals are only transitions. 

Saturday's silence is only Saturday's New Normal... My mind wants to run on a thousand tangents of application; especially in our current social-distancing, self-isolating, mask-wearing situation. But I'll allow your applications to be your own (and mine, mine). 

This is what I know...

A resurrected New Normal is coming. 

Silent Saturdays give way to the sunrise of Sunday. And in that sunrise, there is new life. 

God, I'm not satisfied with my normal of silence and isolation. But I trust you are creating a resurrected New Normal... that in reality, is anything but normal!

For now...

D

STORMS (pt1) BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY

I can do all things... 
- (part of) Philippians 4:13

Star Trek ran for 79 episodes. Not once did a character say, "Beam me up, Scotty." Nor did Humphrey Bogart's Rick ever say, "Play it again, Sam," in Casablanca. Both are commonly attributed to the originals. Neither is there.

Nowhere in scripture is it written that God will never give you (or allow) more that you can handle. We hear it all the time. And it is as cliche as Beam me up Scotty.

The fact is God will again and again allow us more than we can handle. (Stay with me, it get's worse... then better!)

Paul wrote of his struggles: For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself (2 Corinthians 1:8). David writes much the same: I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart (Psalm 38:8).

Ultimately, 11 of the 12 disciples were martyred for their faith. The twelfth, John, was boiled alive in oil (and lived), and then exiled - where by the way, he had the incredible Revelation of Christ and wrote the letter of the same name.

I often face circumstances, burdens and pain beyond what I can bear. Please re-read the very last part of that statement: ...beyond what I can bear. 

There are two lies born out of the statement, God will not give you (or allow) more than you can handle. The first is that YOU can handle it. You. By yourself. You can and must be strong. 

The truth is, eventually you can't. There must be WE. The life of faith cannot be lived in isolation. Paul writes that we are to, bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2). When we cannot lift another's burdens, we must lift the person who carries the burden. Christianity - and life as a whole - is to be lived in community; not in isolation. 

The second lie is much like the first. It centers in the bearing of burdens. We are not human pack-mules, destined to trudge through life weighed down. That is not the joy inexpressible and full of glory Peter writes of (1 Peter 1:8); or the fullness of joy of which Jesus speaks (John 15:11). 

As a matter of fact it was Jesus who said:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, 

and I will give you rest... you will find rest for your souls. 

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. 

-- Matthew 11:28-30

(I told you it would get better!) 

I've often heard well-intentioned people say, "That's just my cross to bear," in speaking of a struggle or burden. But crosses are not for carrying. They are for dying. And when we are daily, crucified with Christ, as Paul wrote, we are also daily resurrected with him. It is only the pains, the struggles, the burdens, and the sin that remain nailed to the cross. 

So... can I can do all things... Well, yes, but...
When we read Paul's words in context we understand he is speaking about the power of relying completely on Christ in faith. Even more specifically, he is speaking to the power and perspective that is birthed out of contentedness. This power is not necessarily to stop the storms of life, or to dance on top of the waves singing a happy tune. 

Sometimes the power is to grab an oar and pull hard... to make one more stroke against the wind and waves. Yes, I believe Jesus can, and sometimes does stand up in the boat and calm the torrent with a word. But the callouses on my hands tell me he usually teaches me in a different way. And who knows, when my head is down and I am faithfully rowing with my last drops of strength, what greater waves or storms pass me by without my ever knowing?

Will God give or allow us to face more than we can handle? Maybe it's splitting hairs... but I'm going to say yes - alone, isolated, and in my own strength? Yes. But when I am driven to rely on the community of others, and to the feet of Jesus, NO. There is no valley too deep. There is no mountain too high. There is no storm too great.

God, because you are with me I can walk through any valley, I am ready for the storm. 

For now...

D