A Stumbler's Walk to Christmas | DOUBT

Are you the one...?

- Luke 7:19

We should never doubt. Right? Well, I doubt that's possible. (See where this is going?)

Doubt is the opposite of faith. Right? I'm not so sure about that one either. 

I consider myself a faithful doubter. I believe in a God I cannot prove.* I trust a God who seemingly leaves me hanging at times. I talk to a God who has never responded in a way my ears could register. Now before I paint the wrong picture, allow me to loudly agree with Paul's words to his young protege:

I know whom I have believed, 

And am persuaded that he is able

To keep that which I've committed

Unto him against that day.

- (classic hymn version of) 2 Timothy 1:12

I know. Yet I doubt. I trust. Yet I struggle for control. You may think me weak. But I think I'm in good company: People with names like Sarah, Abraham, David... and a Baptist named John. 

In the seventh chapter of Luke we find Jesus' ministry exploding. People are being healed, sight is restored, and even a dead kid is restored to life. (Doubt that's true? I don't!) In the midst of this John sends some friends to Jesus. He can't go himself. He is in prison. He has been imprisoned by a depraved king for being faithful to his call. 

John sends his comrades with one question for Jesus - well, kind of a two-parter. "Are you the one?" "Or should we keep looking?"

Remember it was John that baptized Jesus. I'm sure John grew up hearing ...your cousin the Messiah... stories from his mother. It was John who said, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world," as Jesus approached him at the muddy banks of the Jordan River. It was John who saw the Holy Spirit descend on the dripping wet Jesus when he came up out of the water. It was John who heard the disembodied voice from heaven rumble, "This is my Son..."

And now John doubts. Belief is easy on the banks of the Jordan. Doubt creeps in with the mildew and dank frigidity of a cell. We have all lived this; though our cells vary in their specifics. In self-reflective loneliness we ask the questions. And doubt creeps. 

My goal here is not to obliterate doubt. I can't. Nor is it to point the accusing finger at doubters. I can't. I simply want to say, "Welcome to the club!" And I want to point out how Jesus responded to the doubting question. "Tell John what you see." Jesus is saying to them, "The prophecies of Isaiah about the coming Messiah are being fulfilled right in front of you. Go tell my cousin, 'Yes, I'm the one. Yes, the Kingdom of God has invaded earth.'"

But that is only part of Jesus' response. He then turns to those within earshot and says, in essence, "There has never been a person of greater faith than John." The doubter is exalted for his faith. In that I find comfort. In it I find strength. 

A man in need once answered a question of Jesus in an humble and honest way:

Jesus: "Do you believe?"

Man: "I believe. Please help my unbelief!"

I love the honesty. I love the faith shining through doubt. 

I think God does too.

God, I have my doubts, but I believe. I believe!

For now...

D

*The fact that God cannot be "proven," does not necessitate that Christianity is anti-intellectual.  Faith is not a prescription to check one's brain at the door. Christian faith is intellectual. And some of the greatest intellectuals in history have been men and women of faith: from the social sciences to medicine, from biology to cosmology, from physics to philosophy. Yes faith will always be a component. But the idea that Christianity is anti-intellectual is in itself, an anti-intellectual argument. Christians must be open to honest dialogue. Those attacking Christianity should be open to the same.

A Stumbler's Walk to Christmas | CALLED & TESTED

And Jesus... was led by the Spirit in the wilderness... being tempted by the devil. 

- Luke 4:1-2

Put out into the deep... (Jesus to Peter) 

- Luke 5:4

I've been watching the Garth Brooks autobiographical special on A&E that last few days. I remember Garth's meteoric rise to the top of the music world; watching the CMAs - wearing my high-wasted pleated jeans and brushing back my feathered hair. Garth doesn't know it, but we share a historical bond: we were both subjected to Iba Hall, the 1980's athletic dorm at OSU. Me, as a 17 year old freshman footballer, he as an older, wiser javelin thrower (yep).

I didn't frequent the dive bar/honky-tonk scene, but I remember seeing Garth once at an open mic night at the Student Union. The point... oh yeah: According to the A&E special, Garth always wanted the tours, the stadiums, the mutual adulation of performer and crowd. But it didn't begin in the arenas and stadiums. It began much smaller. Much smokier. Much darker. He was tested and tried. He failed. Then he succeeded.

So what does that have to do with Luke and our Stumbler's Walk to Christmas? This: There is always a time of testing, a time of forging, a time of lonely soul-searching that comes between the call and it's fulfillment. I think this is a universal principle, a God-created principle, that flows into most areas of our lives.

Jesus spent time in the wilderness alone, hungry and tempted. Moses herded sheep on the backside of nowhere. David played dinner music to sooth a mad king. I could go on with examples, but this is the point: Before the water-walking comes the wilderness. Before the ocean splitting comes the desert. Before the giant slaying comes the humbling drudgery.

If you are called, you will be tested.

It's late and I'm going to wrap up here. But two things first. 1) You are called. Each of us is. And 2) We will be (continually) tested. Because in heat of the test, character is forged. It may not be fun. It may all but crush us. But it is necessary. And it is good.

God, I will not fear the wilderness, the deep water, or the mundane preparation. Produce in me the character to match your call. 

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk to Christmas | FROM THESE STONES

And do not begin to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our father." For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham.

-- Luke 3:8

Where do you bank? Not literally; as in, "I'm a Chase girl," or "I'm a Bank of America guy." On/In what do you bank your reputation, your character, your identity, your hope? 

John's first sermon wasn't very user-friendly. It wasn't sensitive or comforting. (Apparently he wasn't looking for an audience; he was more dedicated to telling the truth - and pleasing an audience of one. But that's a different soapbox.)

For some reason the people turned out to hear. 

Some, because they knew their need. In the radical words of this radical man they heard a truth about a God who restores. They switched trust accounts. They banked on this redeeming God. And they found comfort and purpose. 

Others came for the show. They had heard of the desert wild man with the crazy outfit and diet. I'm sure they were not disappointed. And though they had never really thought of their need, this hippie-sage's words gnawed on their hearts. Their souls were disquieted by what John said. 

Still others came to ridicule. They came to argue and posture. They were spiritually elite; their religious bank accounts full. John called them a "brood of vipers." They probably didn't like that much. But spiritual elitism has a way of deflecting when we should receive. A heard heart (especially a religiously hard heart) has a way of playing the I'm rubber, you're glue... game. 

It is this last group to whom John made a staggering statement: "...God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham." I'll save the history lesson, but the point is this: These people were relying on heredity for their right-ness with God. They were impressed with themselves.  They were keenly and happily aware of the faults of others. Yet they were completely and defiantly unaware of their own depravity and need. They were banking on the wrong things. 

They said, "We are the descendants of Abraham." John says, "I'm not impressed; and neither is God." It is humility that has always impressed (if I can use that term), and will continue to impress God. He is near to the humble. He runs to the broken. He lifts up the hurting. He gives grace to those who turn to him and ask. 

It really is that simply. If only it were easy.

God, Peter wrote that you oppose the proud and give grace to the humble. I. Need. You(r). Grace.

For now...

D 

  

(May I offer up a last thought for free...?)

I can't help but think of an episode in John's Gospel (different John, and chapter 8) when I read this story. It involves a prostitute, a murderously self-righteous crowd, and stones. The stones were for throwing. You see, hard hearts like to heave hard stones. But when Jesus shows up, drops a truth-bomb that exposes and then writes in the dirt, even the most self-righteously hardened drop their stones and walk away; shaking their heads. Shaken to the core. It's worth a read. 

A Stumbler's Walk to Christmas | SONGS IN THE HILLS

And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths...

-- Luke 2:6-7

Well, it's official. I tuned my radio dial to all Christmas music all the time. Driving in this morning the last song to play was It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas. (Now spend the next 15 minutes trying to get that one out of your brain. You're welcome.) In KC the Plaza lights are shining and Union Station is a sight to see. My Facebook Marketplace tree is even up. Lit, not decorated.

Christmas is here.... ready or not.

Only a few people were ready on the first Christmas. Joseph was ready. Mary was readier (an Okie word).

Some were surprised, in a good way: Wise men looking to the stars; shepherds counting those stars while reclining on a hillside. For others the surprise of God's nearness would bring concern and worse.

An old man, Simeon, and an old woman, Anna had both been looking forward to that first Christmas morning a long, long time. The source of their anticipation was not that of reindeer hooves on the roof, or left-over cookie crumbs and milk residue. They were waiting on a promise.

On that first Christmas morning the Promised One came:

A mother screamed in pain and joy. 

An earthly father cried. 

A Heavenly Father smiled with a broken heart. 

Angels broke out in a chorus that would put any Super Bowl halftime show to shame. 

Stars burst to life. 

Shepherds turned to stunned statues. 

The world gasped. 

History split.

Christmas season is here; and Christmas day will be upon us soon. I like how Paul put it in a letter: ...when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman... (Galatians 4:4). The time is full. Christmas is here.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas. (What, you thought I'd let you off that easy?)

God, let me hear the ringing sounds of Angel voices, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased." Be pleased with me; with us. Help us this Christmas season to know the joy of your pleasure.

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk to Christmas | HOW...?

How...?

-- Luke 1:18,34

In the first chapter of Luke's Gospel we come across two hows...?. Both are asked after an angel's declaration. (I'd like to think the awesome-light-being-appearance-do-not-be-afraid!-thing would be enough for me. I want to believe that how...? would be out of the equation...

I'd like to think BELIEF would be BIGGER than HOW...? But my belief is often (usually?) swallowed by my hows...? 

Zechariah asks how...? when Gabriel announces his wife Elizabeth is pregnant. And no, it is not a case of Zechariah being naive. More so, Zechariah is being a realist. He is old. Elizabeth is old.

They are too old.

There is a lot in that last statement. (Maybe for you; I know there is for me.)

They are too old. A brief four word sentence that carries SO much weight. So much baggage. So much loss. So much dream-death. As I think about it, we bring our dream-death baggage constantly into the present. Our belief is blocked by it. Our vision is skewed.

I am too old... We can replace old with so many other toos: 

I am too young... 

I am too poor... 

I am too unimportant... 

I am too messed up...

I am too _____________

Before Zechariah's response that he and his wife are too old, he asks a question: "How will I know this?" What we will see in in a bit, is though Zechariah and Mary ask the same basic question - How...?, their hows...? are fundamentally different.

Zechariah's how...? is a statement of disbelief. His how...? is an indication of his heart. Remember, Zechariah is a Temple priest. He is a faithful guy. We never read that he is crooked or that he is stealing doves from the alter to make hat bands for sale. Luke writes that he and Elizabeth were, "... righteous before God, walking blamelessly in the commandments and statutes of the Lord." 

And yet Zechariah can't see it. The angel speaks: "Your prayer has been heard..."  In essence, Zechariah answers: "There is too much past for that to be my future." 

THERE IS TOO MUCH PAST FOR THAT TO BE MY FUTURE...

This is the how...? with which many of us struggle. How can that promise be for me? How can it be my future? I have too much past for that to be real. 

I wish I had the eloquence to state this in a way that could really connect with your heart (and mine). All that I can do is write it and pray God drills it home: Your future is in no way dependent on your past!

YOUR FUTURE IS NOT DEPENDENT ON YOUR PAST

I am too __________

However you filled in the blank - No your are not! Nor am I.

God, overcome my I am toos... Overpower my hows...?!

For now...
D

_____________________________________

How...?

-- Luke 1:18,34

So straight to it. (This is dragging on and we are all busy.)

There are two how? questions asked in Luke's first chapter. At first glance they seem similar. First glances can be deceiving; or at least limited. There is a subtle difference in the questions. Maybe better stated, there is a difference in the belief behind the questions.

So what is the difference in the two questions - the two hows?. Here it is (and this is very much my interpretation. Feel free to disagree.): One how? is a question of doubt. The other how? is a question of amazement and wonder. (Yep, you read all this way to get to that.)

How? can reveal a heart of doubt.

How? can express faithful wonder. 

Zechariah asks how? when told by God, through an angel that his wife Elizabeth is going to bear a son.* In his how? we hear doubt and disbelief. Now I don't want to be too hard on old Z. First, he's faithfully served God and the people his entire life. Secondly, I can be the king of DOUBTING HOW? and don't have quite enough hypocrite in me to point the finger.

Gabriel confirms Zechariah's how? is a doubting how?: "You will be silent and unable to speak until the time... because you did not believe my words..." (v10). It is easy to read right through that. I wonder why God, via Gabriel, shut down Zechariah's ability to speak.

The angel's response to Z's how? seems a little harsh. "You won't be able to speak until this promise is fulfilled; until your son is born." Every time I've read this I thought: "Dang, a bit much." Mute for at least nine months. (Who knows, maybe this was a literal God-send to his wife Elizabeth.)

Is this punishment? Maybe. But I don't think that's really it. The writer of Hebrews tells us God lovingly disciplines his children. It can be unpleasant and confusing. But our Father is purposeful in carving our character and shaping us more into the image of Jesus.**

However, I think there is more going on. Zechariah is given an incredible promise. He can't wrap his mind around it. He can't wrap his faith around it. And his words verbalize his doubt. More than that - his words betray the heart of faith he has always had.

Remember, Gabriel confirms that Zechariah has been praying for this very thing - a son. God has heard and answered. Jesus said, "Ask... Seek... Knock..." Too often, this is where I fail (you?). I don't ask enough. I don't seek relentlessly. I don't knock until my knuckles hurt. But apparently Zechariah has.

So I have this question: Though Zechariah has served his God faithfully; though Zechariah has asked his God specifically; has Zechariah forgotten that his God loves him personally?

I am too old... Not, "God, you can't pull it off." Not, "God this is over even you're powerfully-exalted head."

I am the problem... I am the weak variable in this equation. 

It is almost as if God answers: "Yes, you are correct. Yes, you are weak. Yes, you are too old. Yes, you are a faithful waverer... a Stumbler Walking. Shush now. Silence. Quiet yourself. And watch this..."

You are too weak... But I am powerful.

You are too old... But I am the Ancient of Days.

You are not... But I Am!

Now be quiet. Be quiet and know that I am God.

Your words are betraying you. 

They are falsely making your doubts to be bigger than your faith.

The last words you spoke were words of doubt.

With your next words you will name a son!

Zechariah's words reflect my heart. God's response overwhelms my spirit. 

Here is some good news: Even in Zechariah's doubt, God fulfilled his promise.

A reminder: God is not bound by our doubts. He is bigger.

God, I am all the things that make it impossible. You are the One who makes all things possible. As a father once responded to Jesus, "I believe. Please help me in my unbelief!"

For now,
D

THANKS

Thanks... for the next 500 breathes that I'll be blessed with before this post is finished (I'm stepping out on faith and assuming I'll breathe to the end).

Thanks... for children. My children are my blessing. But all children are incredible.

Thanks... for sunflower seeds, the staple of my diet.

Thanks... for friends; all friends, but especially the I've got your back no matter what kind.

Thanks... for the pain of a hurt heart. Only love can leave that brand of scar. And it reminds that there has truly been (and will be) love.

Thanks... for The United States of America. Troubled? Yes. But I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Thanks... for the shoulder pain when I sleep on my right side. It reminds me of the way I could once throw and run and enjoy a kid's game.

Thanks... for my old Golden, Max. It has come down to just him and me in the house a lot more and a lot more quickly than I could have imagined. And he always thinks I'm the biggest deal.

Thanks... that at 50, I feel better (other than said shoulder) and fitter than I've been since my 20's.

Thanks... for the fact that if I listed everything for which I should give thanks, this blog post would expand to a novel. Whole chapters would be dedicated to names and faces, blessings and struggles; all conduits of hope, joy and growth.

Thanks... for the abiding sense that it's all going to work out in the end.

Thanks... for... EVERYTHING!

One might wonder why I wrote it this way; Thanks..., instead of, I'm thankful for... 

It's a good thing to be thankful. It's healthy and adds perspective. However, when I say thanks, it reminds me that my thankfulness is object-oriented. In other words, I'm not just thankful; I'm thankful to SOMEONE.

Thanks... for closing the gap of your goodness and my badness through the gift of your SON (Oh... and Happy Birthday in a month!)

Hey... still breathing! (Psalm 150:6)

For now...

D

A Stumbler's Walk | CHRISTIAN?

And in Antioch the disciples were first called Christians. - Acts 11: 26 

What does it mean to call ourselves Christian?

A better question: "What does it mean to BE Christian?

The first is much easier than the second. To say I am something, or that I believe (in) something, is really no challenge. To BE something requires life validation. To BE the thing we claim, we must deeply believe (in) that thing, with the requisite life-change and lifestyle.

Interestingly, it was not Christians that first called themselves "Christian." They were so designated by others. People in Antioch began to use the term for followers of Jesus; the far away prophet who had been killed and, as the spreading stories reported, had been resurrected. 

The word literally means followers of Christ. In the common vernacular it was derogatory, and carried a tongue-in-cheek sarcastic meaning of, little Christs. Though the believers originally rejected the term, eventually the sense was, "Followers of Jesus, little Christs, we can live with that." They were called Christian because they lived like Christians; because they were Christians.

Christian (the word) has lost much of its authenticity and power in our culture. We have Christian music, Christian restaurants, Christian comedy, Christian theme parks," ad infinitum. And that's all fine. But there is really no such thing as a Christian sandwich. There are only Christian people - followers of Jesus. 

The transformed (and transforming); those who have joined him in his mission. Jesus said the overarching distinguishing characteristic of his followers would be love for one another (John 13:35). The people of Antioch noticed it.

So the question: Is there anything distinguishing about me? Not some fake, "Look at me while I do religious stuff," kind of distinguishing. Is there authenticity, love, and to go back a couple chapters, grace and power?

We need to self-evaluate. But we need not be self-critical. Remember we are all works-in-progress. That is the transformING part of being transformed. We need to see ourselves the way God sees us. And how is that? As Christians, little Christs. Those who have the Spirit of the living Jesus alive in us.

God, I want to BE Christian.

For now...

D