A Stumbler's Walk | NO FEAR

But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Rise, and have no fear."

-- Matthew 17:7

Rise, and have no fear... For some this morning, that is enough. It is all we need to hear. 

Fear is debilitating. Fear can shut us down and drain our vitality. At the least, fear is a terrible motivator - actually, it is a demotivator. 

In the context of the passage, the disciples are awestruck with fear at the transfigurative glory of Jesus; and at a voice that comes from the sky. 

An awesome respect (sometimes translated fear) of God is wise and good. He is holy; he is other. And a glimpse of his glory will bring us to our knees. 

But there is a different fear. Rather than a focus on God's glory, this fear fixates our vision on the myriad opportunities before us to fail. This kind of fear does not mix well with faith. One tends to drive the other into submission. And one of the most deceptive - and covertly destructive - types of fear is the fear that we fail God. 

Rise, and have no fear... They were the words of Jesus to his followers on a hill outside Jerusalem. They are the words of a loving Savior to you and me on this Saturday morning. 

Rise, and have no fear... of the past. It is gone.

Rise, and have no fear... of the future. It is not here. 

Rise, and have no fear... now, in this moment. Jesus is present (as he was and as he will be). 

Rise, and have no fear. (Period)

God, drive my fear away with your presence. Take my hand, lift me up and let me see your smile.

For now...

D

A Stumbler's Walk | BREAD

O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread?

-- Matthew 16:8

We miss the point.

That's the point Jesus is making. In reality, it is an underlying theme of the Sermon on the Mount, many of Jesus' teachings, and his mission in general.

We tend to fixate on the temporal and miss the eternal. We stare at the surface and miss the depth. We focus on external and miss the heart... ours, others' and God's.

(Wow, I could go so many different directions with this... so at risk of chasing multiple rabbits, let's stick to context.)

The disciples think Jesus is chiding them because they have forgotten bread (again). Temporal... surface... external. It is easy for us, by the way, to disparage the disciples' short-sightedness. But we suffer from the same cataracts.

This Jesus who feeds tens of thousands with a Happy Meal is not limited by what we don't have. It is we who often limit ourselves by what we do have. We tend to believe God-sized results require (our) super-sized resources. And we are snared into thinking the primary gift we bring is our ability to be good enough, worthy enough, enough enough. (I've been asked if that's a typo. Nope - reread it.)

The disciples miss that Jesus is uncovering layers of dead religion. He is exposing what is false; that which so easily captures a heart and turns it cold. And just as he produces feasts from scraps, he brings life and vitality where oppression has suffocated.

He brings the eternal to the temporal. He brings depth to the surface. He brings heart to the external.

God, help me not to fixate on the temporal... the surface... the external. 

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk | THE QUESTION

And the disciples said to him, "Where are we to get enough bread in such a desolate place to feed so great a crowd?"
-- Matthew 15:33

The question sounds familiar. The whole scene feels like a pause and repeat. For the reader of Matthew the two massive picnics come in consecutive chapters. Scholars however, set the two at months apart - different locations, different details, and a couple different take-aways; (all of which are interesting, but not the point of this post).

I am nearly amazed at the disciples' question. Nearly. They have seen Jesus come through time after time. Why would they imagine he won't do it again?

I could understand if one said to another with a wink and elbow to the ribs, "Watch this...," then knowingly asked the question. But I don't think it's the case. In fact, Jesus initiates the discussion. Unlike when he fed 5,000 people before, Jesus indicates he wants to do something special for the people. And for some reason the disciples immediately go to the place of question and disbelief.

They've witnessed the miracles. They have experienced the glory. Yet the desolation around them and their (perceived) lack of resources seem more real.

And they ask the question.

I do not think God is offended by our questions. If he really is God, then he is certainly not shaken by them. I do think at times our questions (and actions) bring pain to his heart.

At times our questions reveal a lack of understanding of who God is. Sometimes they demonstrate our lack of trust. Some expose that we believe more in the circumstances and situations around us than we do in God; in his purpose and provision.

I recall Jesus' response to Philip in the upper room on the night of Jesus' arrest; "Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip?" (John 14:9).

The God who spun stars into the heavens and created platypuses (platypi?) is the God who knows your name. He is intimately acquainted with your heart - your fears, regrets, and hopes. He was there in your past, and he has a future for you.

May I make two quick statements of application? (It is a Sunday morning after all.)

God's purpose (in and through us) is not dependent on our resources. 

God's resources are not dependent on our situation. 

God, the landscape is sometimes desolate, and my resources scarce, but that is not failure, it is opportunity.

For now...

D

A Stumbler's Walk | A DESOLATE PLACE

Now when it was evening, his disciples came to him and said, "This is a desolate place, and the day is now over..."
-- Matthew 14:15

The disciples are tired. They have served as crowd control, screeners, healer-helpers, etc. all day long and into the evening. They are worn out and the sun has set.

Then they realize they are in a desolate place.

What does the word desolate conjure into your mind?

Desolate can speak to location. The drive from Oklahoma City to Los Angeles comes to mind - plenty of desolation, broken up by the occasional wind farm.

There is a sadder, and darker, version of desolation though. It is not a desolation of locale, but a desolation of the heart. We can at times be surrounded by crowds and yet feel desolately alone.

Desolation of the soul robs us of vitality. (I realize I am trying to extract too much from a simple narrative statement in scripture, but indulge me for a moment; I'll try to rein it in.) The disciples begin to sense the desolation surrounding them. By the way, this after a day of miracles witnessed. Finally they decide, "... the day is now over."

Forgive my triteness, but the day is not over until Jesus says it's over. There is a miraculous feast yet to take place; one that people will talk about for millennia to come. Oh... and water-walking.

No, the day is not over. And no place is desolate when Jesus is there. Look a few verses above. It was Jesus who withdrew to the desolate place. The news of his friend John's death had come to him. He wanted to get away. But people came. People living lives of desolation.

My guess is that none in the crowd left that place feeling it was desolate. Jesus brought life to desolation. He brings light to darkness... love to emptiness... healing to brokenness... hope to hopelessness.

Jesus never leaves people in desolation. He may allow the temporary desert sands to blow in our eyes, but always with purpose. The empty ocean torrent may threaten to capsize us, but in perfect timing he comes walking across the waves.

The day is NOT over...

God, be present in my desolation.

For now...
D

A Dollar

I found a dollar tonight. One dollar. It was laying in the parking lot near my car as I left the coffee shop where I was reading.

Just one dollar. It was folded up kind of funny. I honestly thought it might be stuck to the ground or a group of pranksters nearby might yank it away with fishing line as I bent down to claim my treasure. I briefly pondered it might be one of those tracts that made you think, "Hey, I found a buck," then when unfolded it reads, Money is the root of all evil (which by the way, is not an accurate quotation of 1 Timothy 6:10).

It was however, an authentic American one dollar bill. And I began to wonder. I wondered not so much about the dollar's history - although it could be fascinating really. I didn't even give a thought to the person's $1 debacle of dropping it in the parking lot. What captured my mind was the potential. What could this one oddly-folded dollar do? What could it become? It is a bit ironic that these were my thoughts having just purchased a four dollar cup of coffee with the only real cash on me. That said, I was reading Tim Ferriss' latest book in the coffee shop.  So maybe that is where the brain-scamper originated. (Ferriss authored The Four Hour Work Week, calls himself a human guinea pig, and is a noted paradigm buster.)

But here is where my creativity dies, so I'm asking for input. Can a dollar make a difference? Can one dollar grow to make real impact? If so, how?

Think with me. The wilder the better. Let's leave out, "Find 999,999 more and you can retire," - trust me, I looked. Or, the obvious, "Give it to someone holding a sign on a street corner." Let's go big. We aren't looking for a 100 penny impact here. Let's think exponentially and unselfishly.

You can leave a message at the end of this blog. You can Facebook message or PM me. Could a dollar become something that might change a life some day?  Get creative and let's experiment.

For now...
D

(By the way, if I don't hear from anyone, I'm tying it to a string and hiding around a corner at the coffee shop. I'll upload some video.)

A Stumbler's Walk | DULL

For this people's heart has grown dull, 

and with their ears they can barely hear,

and their eyes they have closed, 

lest they should see with their eyes, 

and hear with their ears

and understand with their heart

and turn, and I would heal them.

-- Matthew 13:15 (Jesus quoting the prophet Isaiah)

Isaiah said it centuries before. People would close their eyes, choosing darkness over light. They would so consistently tune out the love song of the universe, as to eventually think the chaotic notes of selfish loneliness were the only chords played or sung. But closed eyes and deaf ears are only symptoms. The true problem lay deeper.

Jesus said the ones spoken of by Isaiah were right in front of him. He walked among them. Deaf ears missed the life in his words. Closed eyes missed the light shining in their darkness. Wounded, dying, dull hearts missed the invitation to be truly restored.

Jesus said the ones spoken of by Isaiah were right in front of him. They still are. We still are. Many were blind, deaf and dull. Many still are. We all are in some ways.

It is telling that Jesus literally opened the ears of the deaf and made the eyes of the blind to see. It is telling because on a deeper level, a spiritual level, an eternal level, this is what he does. On a few occasions he literally made the dead heart begin to beat with life. Again, what he does.

Jesus often healed with the cooperation, sometimes even at the request, of the person to be healed. At other times there was no initiative shown - for instance, a dead person doesn't ask to be raised. Jesus often asks us to take steps of faith, to do what we can do, before he does what only he can. Sometimes in our weakness or woundedness we are incapacitated, and he reaches us with grace.

God, I will open my eyes as best I know - heal my blindness; I will open my ears as best I know - heal my deafness. I will turn my heart to you as best I know - restore it as only you can. 

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk | TEMPLE SHADOWS

I tell you, something greater than the temple is here.   -- Jesus, Matthew 12:6

To those within sound of Jesus' voice, the Temple was everything. It is difficult for us today to truly fathom it's iconic power and deep significance. The Temple stood as the center of faith, culture and national identity. More so, the majestic message of the columns and stone was one of hope and freedom from oppression. Most deeply, and most easily overlooked, the Temple symbolized the presence of an immanent God who lived among his people.  

But there is a problem inherent with Temples. Though erected to symbolize something (or someone) greater, eventually marble and mortar become the focus.

I am amazed so many missed Jesus' message when he stood in their midst. He healed, and they complained he did it wrong. He freed agonized people, and was accused of using devil-power. He spoke words that ignited their souls and soothed their fears, yet they clung to have-tos, can'ts and damned-if-you-dos. 

The God of the universe walked in human skin in the very shadow of the Temple built to honor and worship him. And most chose the symbol over the Savior. 

We often do the same. I am speaking metaphorically. A temple can be anything religious, spiritual, moral, or even intellectual that we build initially to honor God. Temples are tangible and comfortable. But temples can become traps. They are sometimes just grand enough to remind us of God's past presence or a hint of spiritual truth. But they can distract us from the abiding reality of the One they were built to glorify. And sometimes we miss Jesus as he walks in the shadow of temples we build.

God, One who is greater than any temple I've built is here. Help me not to lose sight of him due to the shadows cast by the walls of my temples.

For now...

D