"You can't handle the truth!" The colonel in A Few Good Men yells this line as though the truth could absolutely squash this pesky prosecuting attorney. But the truth he unveils - about his compliance in the wrongful death of two young men - squashes him instead. I wonder what he was thinking. Did he confuse his own high ranking with that of the judge? Did he think that higher rank and more experience make us more qualified to handle condemning truth? Either way, for all he claimed to know about truth, it proved to be way more than even he could handle. Poor Jack.
Poor us too. The bad news for him is hardly any better for us. Truth is one of those imposing words. It will show me what I'm made of, but not in a way that will make me better. R.R. Reno is a rock-climber and a theology professor. In an essay about rock climbing, he shares about climbing down a steep rock face. The great terror facing him and his friend is described as the bergschrund, a yawning crevasse at the base of a mountain. "The glacier below moaned like a despairing prisoner kept in the deepest dungeon of a distant fortress. A quite real chunk of ice broke free a couple hundred feet to our right and dropped with a roar into the gaping moat below...as I leaned out and went over the edge I could see into the dark depths of the bergschrund. It was filled with the debris of ice blocks that had avalanched from above." (75) Truth seems to me like bergschrund. Merciless. You fall into its arms and it will not catch you. In fact, the faster you fall into it, the more messed up you'll be. Shattered on the rocks of the truth.
Who can handle truth? Who is good enough to deal it out to the rest of us? In an op-ed piece in the New York Times, a list was made of prominent political men for whom the pursuit of truth and right and wrong in politics did not protect them from failures of truth within their own marriages. It was a long list. Various reports surrounding abuse scandals in general and specifically with the Scottish cardinal's resignation this week remind us that people are good at keeping one another's secrets. It is no wonder that Pilate in bewilderment asked Jesus, "what is truth?" What else is it, indeed, than a yawning pit we try our best to avoid?
Of course, this is no secret to the Scriptures. "If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?" (Psalm 130:3) But there is a humility here that is not terrified of being broken by the truth. What if we didn't hate the truth and try our best to avoid it, but delighted to make it known? Jesus says, "Everyone on the side of truth listens to me." I'll be the first to admit that I'm scared to face the truth. OK, actually that's a lie. Maybe I'd be the third or fourth person to admit that. I'd much prefer a few people to admit that before I step forward to admit it. But if Christians pretend they are anything other than wretched sinners saved only by the mercy and grace of God, the true love of God is not being shown. What is being communicated is still a works-based, "try and pull it together" confidence in ourselves, and not in God. Instead, we can pray, "Tell me the truth, God. Tell me the truth about my sin, how deep and wide it is. Don't hide any of it from me. But show me how enormous the gospel is, how it swallows up evil and death and makes all things new. Tell me the truth about both."
Frankly, it isn't an easy prayer to pray, is it? Truth hurts. But the good news is that Christ knows it hurts. He was in the garden the night before he died, praying that there might be some other way humanity could be redeemed other than the cross. And he gladly went and finished it all, claiming God's victory over all sin and evil. He handled the truth that we couldn't. He fell into the yawning crevasse - the bergschrund - that would have broken us instead. And if we love Jesus for doing this for us, he will lead us beyond whatever hard truths we have to face in this world - whether it is about our health, relationships, manners, habits, or anything else. They don't have to cripple us anymore. The truth has been handled. The judge himself has taken our sentence for us. Nothing remains but to pledge our love and devotion to Christ - and in doing so we leap high over every dark bergschrund that remains beneath us.
1) When was a time that the truth made you so happy you could rejoice? When was a time when you wished the truth wasn't really true?
2) Blaise Pascal once said, "unless we love the truth, we cannot know it." How do you think loving the truth helps us to actually know it?
3) What is something 'true' you could tell somebody that would absolutely make their day?
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
"How God Comes to Us" (Reflection on 2/17 Message)
Joy in the midst of sorrow. Hope in the midst of despair. Remembering the mountain-top in the midst of the valley. To be mindful and expectant of supernatural realities in the midst of everyday life. A woman saying, "I want to give all the glory to God" as she emerges from the cruiseline disaster. Isn't this "glass half full" perspective what we're looking for in the Christian life?
After Peter, John, and James experienced the glory of Jesus Christ, and they were returning down the mountain, Jesus told them not to tell about this until after he was raised from the dead. (Matthew 17:9). In Luke, the disciples simply don't tell anyone. In Matthew and also in Mark, it's at Jesus' request.
In Mark, as in the other gospels, the Father himself speaks and tells the disciples to listen to Jesus. This was a peak moment for me during Kevin's sermon - to ponder a holy, almighty God's pleasure in this man Jesus, his Son - and to imagine a thing so wonderful as that. And the Father says, "Listen to him!" The NIV translates this phrase in Matthew and Mark with an exclamation point! In the whole Bible, what do you think are the urgent, exclamation point moments for God? This is one of them: "listen to him!"
God says listen to Jesus, but the first thing Jesus says is, "Don't tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." It is the first thing he says, and already, I bet the disciples didn't want to listen to this. I would want to tell everybody about it, the way Peter eventually does in 2 Peter 1:12! I can imagine having an amazing experience and wanting to give the glory to God, and I don't think I'd understand if Jesus then said, "The time isn't right. Don't tell anybody yet. People will get the wrong idea."
Joy in the midst of sorrow. We want our Christian life to express this. And Jesus knows this will only be a reality for us through his cross. He says don't talk about this until I'm raised from the dead. He's telling us not to leave the ingredient of suffering and death out of the recipe of our rejoicing. They go together. The cross is where Jesus makes us like himself. Without it, the transfiguration would have been a nice experience but nothing more. Through the cross, Jesus makes us like himself - dead to sin, raised to new life. And God the Father speaks over us, "This is my beloved child!" Over us. Without the cross, we are just observers of an amazing mountain-top scene. Through the cross, we become participants in it. And we don't leave it behind. It goes with us everywhere.
People gave glory to God even though they were in a terrible situation on a cruise ship. Unless they were psychic, I don't think they knew this was going to happen. And we don't know what's going to happen to us today. Kevin said that the news world loves bad news. I agree. But the world is also aching and longing to know that people can go through hellish experiences and that even though the body suffers, the soul can still thrive. As Christians, we know what this is like because we know about the cross.
1) Is there anyone you admire for the way they've endured something difficult?
2) What is a difficult struggle you've been through? How did you get through it?
3) How is Jesus' cross a comfort to you in your hardships?
After Peter, John, and James experienced the glory of Jesus Christ, and they were returning down the mountain, Jesus told them not to tell about this until after he was raised from the dead. (Matthew 17:9). In Luke, the disciples simply don't tell anyone. In Matthew and also in Mark, it's at Jesus' request.
In Mark, as in the other gospels, the Father himself speaks and tells the disciples to listen to Jesus. This was a peak moment for me during Kevin's sermon - to ponder a holy, almighty God's pleasure in this man Jesus, his Son - and to imagine a thing so wonderful as that. And the Father says, "Listen to him!" The NIV translates this phrase in Matthew and Mark with an exclamation point! In the whole Bible, what do you think are the urgent, exclamation point moments for God? This is one of them: "listen to him!"
God says listen to Jesus, but the first thing Jesus says is, "Don't tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." It is the first thing he says, and already, I bet the disciples didn't want to listen to this. I would want to tell everybody about it, the way Peter eventually does in 2 Peter 1:12! I can imagine having an amazing experience and wanting to give the glory to God, and I don't think I'd understand if Jesus then said, "The time isn't right. Don't tell anybody yet. People will get the wrong idea."
Joy in the midst of sorrow. We want our Christian life to express this. And Jesus knows this will only be a reality for us through his cross. He says don't talk about this until I'm raised from the dead. He's telling us not to leave the ingredient of suffering and death out of the recipe of our rejoicing. They go together. The cross is where Jesus makes us like himself. Without it, the transfiguration would have been a nice experience but nothing more. Through the cross, Jesus makes us like himself - dead to sin, raised to new life. And God the Father speaks over us, "This is my beloved child!" Over us. Without the cross, we are just observers of an amazing mountain-top scene. Through the cross, we become participants in it. And we don't leave it behind. It goes with us everywhere.
People gave glory to God even though they were in a terrible situation on a cruise ship. Unless they were psychic, I don't think they knew this was going to happen. And we don't know what's going to happen to us today. Kevin said that the news world loves bad news. I agree. But the world is also aching and longing to know that people can go through hellish experiences and that even though the body suffers, the soul can still thrive. As Christians, we know what this is like because we know about the cross.
1) Is there anyone you admire for the way they've endured something difficult?
2) What is a difficult struggle you've been through? How did you get through it?
3) How is Jesus' cross a comfort to you in your hardships?
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Reflection on "A Familiar Story" (February 7 message)
Checklists. Do you make them? Do you like to cross off the tasks that you've completed? A checklist points me in the direction of a day well-lived.
But do you ever keep checklists for people? Me neither. But sometimes I suspect I have a hidden checklist in my heart that helps me to keep track of people I will help and people I won't help. It gets worse. I suspect that the list keeps me from helping anybody.
Jeff read from Luke 10:25-37 - the story of the Good Samaritan. The story is of a man who wants to know if Jesus really takes the Jewish law seriously. What Jesus understands is that this man - this "expert in the law" thinks himself competent not only to know the law but to accomplish it. "Loving God and loving neighbor is just a matter of will power! Set your mind to it, stay focused, and we can all do it." So Jesus tells him what he'd like to hear. "You are correct." But then he adds "Do this and you will live." This makes the man think a little. "Who is my neighbor?" He asks Jesus. The text says he is trying to justify himself.
He's makes checklists too. Some people make the list and are counted as "neighbors". Others aren't. And aren't we like this too? This checklist matched up very well with mine.
1) I'm not bound to help the needy; only the destitute. I meet poor people with nice TV's. Surely they are doing well enough and don't need my help.
2) I barely have enough for my own needs and for my family's needs. I really don't have anything to spare.
3) So many people are just ill-tempered and ungrateful, no matter what you give them!
4) I'm not going to help people who are in poverty by their own foolishness; worse, many are violent and I could be opening myself to harm in providing meaningful help.
This isn't my checklist. This is a list that 18th century pastor Jonathan Edwards compiled from discussions with his parishioners' struggles with the Good Samaritan scripture. I read about it in Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice: How God's Grace Makes Us Just. He describes everything I'm writing here in more detail. Seriously. The whole next paragraph is 100% from his 4th chapter. So it isn't mine, but I realize I have one just like it.
Could God have made a list like this one? Sure. He might have picked those among us more in need of grace - but as sinners we all need it. He might not have wasted his wealth on us and kept it for himself - but he was rich in love toward us instead. Ill-tempered, ungrateful, foolish, selfish, and violent. Guilty, guilty, guilty, etc. Jesus used the example of a Samaritan because Jews hated Samaritans back then. But when the expert hears the story he can't help but acknowledge that even if he didn't like Samaritans, he would be grateful for the mercy the Samaritan provided in the story. So it is with God. We are sinners. We loathe God. We don't like it when he meddles. We don't like his authority. We don't like to give him credit that we can take ourselves. We don't love him, and we don't love our neighbors. But he found us on the roadside half-dead, and he didn't keep walking. Though the Good Samaritan gave his time, energy, resources, Jesus is the Great Samaritan who gives his whole life. Rather than make a list of ways to ignore, exclude, and leave us to our own devices, he gives us his own goodness at no cost to us but at total cost to himself - his own life.
Don't misunderstand me. We need guidelines to know how to give meaningful aid to people. But as for me, I have a hard heart. I deliberately walked away from someone near me in the Walmart parking lot yesterday because I thought he might ask me for money. Even as I walked away, I could hear what I expect was the Holy Spirit speaking to my hard, but not totally deaf heart - "Who do you think you are, Chris? Have I not given you way more than the little you are afraid this man will ask of you? Have I not made you rich in love - just like myself?"
Join me in identifying your checklist and then getting rid of it. If we think it is the way to real neighbor love, we are kidding ourselves. C.S. Lewis once compared us to "an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." The answer isn't in our list, because we don't have what it takes for real neighbor love. Jesus does and gives it to us - real joy, real grace...and real neighborly love.
...it almost makes me want to hop in my car and drive to Walmart!
But do you ever keep checklists for people? Me neither. But sometimes I suspect I have a hidden checklist in my heart that helps me to keep track of people I will help and people I won't help. It gets worse. I suspect that the list keeps me from helping anybody.
Jeff read from Luke 10:25-37 - the story of the Good Samaritan. The story is of a man who wants to know if Jesus really takes the Jewish law seriously. What Jesus understands is that this man - this "expert in the law" thinks himself competent not only to know the law but to accomplish it. "Loving God and loving neighbor is just a matter of will power! Set your mind to it, stay focused, and we can all do it." So Jesus tells him what he'd like to hear. "You are correct." But then he adds "Do this and you will live." This makes the man think a little. "Who is my neighbor?" He asks Jesus. The text says he is trying to justify himself.
He's makes checklists too. Some people make the list and are counted as "neighbors". Others aren't. And aren't we like this too? This checklist matched up very well with mine.
1) I'm not bound to help the needy; only the destitute. I meet poor people with nice TV's. Surely they are doing well enough and don't need my help.
2) I barely have enough for my own needs and for my family's needs. I really don't have anything to spare.
3) So many people are just ill-tempered and ungrateful, no matter what you give them!
4) I'm not going to help people who are in poverty by their own foolishness; worse, many are violent and I could be opening myself to harm in providing meaningful help.
This isn't my checklist. This is a list that 18th century pastor Jonathan Edwards compiled from discussions with his parishioners' struggles with the Good Samaritan scripture. I read about it in Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice: How God's Grace Makes Us Just. He describes everything I'm writing here in more detail. Seriously. The whole next paragraph is 100% from his 4th chapter. So it isn't mine, but I realize I have one just like it.
Could God have made a list like this one? Sure. He might have picked those among us more in need of grace - but as sinners we all need it. He might not have wasted his wealth on us and kept it for himself - but he was rich in love toward us instead. Ill-tempered, ungrateful, foolish, selfish, and violent. Guilty, guilty, guilty, etc. Jesus used the example of a Samaritan because Jews hated Samaritans back then. But when the expert hears the story he can't help but acknowledge that even if he didn't like Samaritans, he would be grateful for the mercy the Samaritan provided in the story. So it is with God. We are sinners. We loathe God. We don't like it when he meddles. We don't like his authority. We don't like to give him credit that we can take ourselves. We don't love him, and we don't love our neighbors. But he found us on the roadside half-dead, and he didn't keep walking. Though the Good Samaritan gave his time, energy, resources, Jesus is the Great Samaritan who gives his whole life. Rather than make a list of ways to ignore, exclude, and leave us to our own devices, he gives us his own goodness at no cost to us but at total cost to himself - his own life.
Don't misunderstand me. We need guidelines to know how to give meaningful aid to people. But as for me, I have a hard heart. I deliberately walked away from someone near me in the Walmart parking lot yesterday because I thought he might ask me for money. Even as I walked away, I could hear what I expect was the Holy Spirit speaking to my hard, but not totally deaf heart - "Who do you think you are, Chris? Have I not given you way more than the little you are afraid this man will ask of you? Have I not made you rich in love - just like myself?"
Join me in identifying your checklist and then getting rid of it. If we think it is the way to real neighbor love, we are kidding ourselves. C.S. Lewis once compared us to "an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." The answer isn't in our list, because we don't have what it takes for real neighbor love. Jesus does and gives it to us - real joy, real grace...and real neighborly love.
...it almost makes me want to hop in my car and drive to Walmart!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)