God Think

We have come to the end of the line or maybe the line has come to the end of us. Is the stuff of our lives that intoxicating that we think of Jesus just when the God tether ball wraps back around on us again? What great responsibilities do we have and what momentous activities engage our minds that thoughts of Jesus slip away from us so easily? We are what we talk about and we don’t talk very naturally about God. It is discombobulating for us to speak of Him in a normal, non-church conversation, our tongues clumsily trip over His name because he is not on our minds much.


The end is drawing near and all of us will either become completely wrapped up in God forever or we will boil in the stew of atheism—in either case, Jesus will be at the center of it and we don’t think much of Him. We may like Him, may even want to please Him but honestly we don’t think much of Him. We have perhaps grown weary of God being here…right here. God in a box is much more comfortable—God in Taiwan or hiding within the rainforest is even better. God with me, watching me, listening to me, monitoring my every move is disconcerting so I try not to think of Him. Like a shadow I can’t avoid until nightfall, God there is much too unsettling to bear. So I don’t bear…I think of something else.

Here is an idea. Take this day and think of Jesus again and again and do not quit on it. Say something about Jesus in a normal conversation. It may feel like belching at a formal dinner or wearing cut-offs to an opera but try it. God is there. He is within your mouth…buried in your brain and He loves you. Say it. Say Jesus in a regular chat with a friend. Make something of Him in your conversation even if it makes your nose twitch and your tongue pinch up against your teeth. Who knows? Maybe the most important part of all of life will improve your friend’s day and make him come alive. Maybe your God talk will clear your head and fill you with an unspeakable joy. Doesn't Jesus love you?  Don't you love Him?

Your mind is made for God thoughts because He is there. He is there in your head and the only way your thoughts come clean and alive is when you think of Jesus. Every other thought is a dingy, musty relic of a dying age—the age of Cain over Abel. Listen. God is there. He is there and He is crazy about you. Think about Him and regain your day. Regain your mind. 

Gratitude

I have started each day writing down a line of blessings. It has just been a three day discipline but already it feels like stretching out a bad back or flossing infected gums. I am not very good at it and it shows. My first day I could only write down two blessings; the second day I really improved and came up with three. One was pretty pitiful. I wrote that I was thankful that my car was repaired. Of course the repairs cost me one hundred dollars more than I expected and in the end, the mechanic listed two major problems my car has that because of its age and mileage are too expensive to fix. So, my repair gratitude was grudgingly added to make me sound thankful…or pretend I was thankful.

It cannot be simply a natural tendency to pessimism that makes gratitude such a strain. I just do not have the inherent talent to be thankful when I have a headache, the living room is full of clothes and toys and half the congregation is gone on Sunday. My gratitude list is far too short for someone living with Jesus and much too shallow for all I have been given. When I was in graduate school, my supervisor was providing an in-service on parent training. She talked about how difficult it is sometimes to compliment your children. She told of one parent, determined to say something good about her child blurting out, “I really like how your nose sits right in the middle of your face.” My prayers often have that same feel. “Thank you Lord for the air I breathe.” “Thank you Lord for the flu only lasting three days.” Thank you Lord that my car broke just forty-five minutes from the nearest mechanic.”

It is a stretch to be thankful but it is a stretch to cook dinner sometimes, a stretch to get up before dawn and a stretch to smile when your back aches but we do all these things anyway. The other day I was asked by one of the teens in our youth group whose idea it was to organize a hike up mission peak. Because I wasn’t sure if he was glad he went or angry he had to go, I hesitated before I answered. He did get to stand at the end on top of the world looking down on a billion city lights, look up at trillions of stars and breathe the fresh air of a cool breeze floating over the peak. I think I like life better when I think a bit more about the twinkling city lights than the sweat dripping off my brow. That alone may make gratitude worth the effort. I read recently of a beautiful young professional golfer who committed suicide. I do not know why she took her life but perhaps she missed the sparkling stars one too many times as she climbed the peak she was given. The Apostle Paul warned that in the last days there “will be terrible times…” He also said in the same letter, “I thank God…” The two can co-exist in one heart at the same time. Gratitude may be the most viable and definitive mode of expression limiting the progression of bitterness, pride and despair all in one fell swoop. Just one thankful comment can turn around a gloomy day…a cheap remedy that no elixir can match.

Sourpuss Faith

It seems like faith is mostly grim-faced determination. You gut out faith. Faith means you're not happy about something, you are tired of the same old struggles, grumpy about your difficulties. What if faith were happy, cheerful, more like eating Oreos and milk just before bed rather than carrot juice and a bowl of broccoli. It is funny in a tense and disconcerting way that Jesus' first public manifestation of faith was during a party. Laughter, feasting and pleasure filled the air as He made His faith mark. A collection of servants and friends scooped up 180 gallons of water in faith, blinked and had wine. If our faith was more like this, we would certainly be less tensed and angry. Faith and laughter seem to be Jesus' way of making faith a lifestyle. The other day I did something pretty immature. I prayed for my favorite baseball team, the Oakland A's to win. I know it is silly for a 53 year-old man with four kids to stoop to such theological lows but I wanted more laughter in my faith. Like salt on my chicken and sugar in my apple pie, it was tasty praying for the A's to win. They were behind and so I prayed for them. Imagine the goofy little smile that crept over my heart when I later logged on the Internet and found they won. Goofy faith is better than none at all. Better to have prayed for something silly and ridiculous than to keep faith balled up inside and have just grim faced determination and a stern solemnity that never walks on water.

What?

Last night I had a Christian song playing as Benjamin and I got ready to read a book together in bed when I switched the ipod to a smooth Miles Davis tune. Abruptly he jumped up and ordered, "I want to hear music about Jesus. Switch it back." Of course, being the good Christian man I was and the affable father, I responded, "No!" And that was that. We went back to the preschool book about stars and dad remained dad and son remained son. As I lie in bed, staring up to the ceiling while Ben snored softly nearby, I pondered my fatherhood, my priesthood and my life in the hood.

How much Christianity is too much? Why do I so often feel this great urge to take a break from 'religion"? What strange urges well up within me that make me cringe when told what to do, when to do it and how it must be done? Why do I hate it when my dentist tells me to floss and my doctor tells me I need to get a prostate exam and my son tells me I need to switch back to a song about Jesus. Am I that hardheaded that even the simple things that are right make me want to bail and the worst little corners of my head feel like home?

The other day I went back to reading through the Bible. I had given up this yearly tradition of mine in 2010 so I could work on memorizing the book of James. Both good and worthy of Christian discipline but one brought pride in accomplishment and the other had become a "task" demanded. It was as simple as that. I did not want to do what I should do...didn't want to be "told". I battle against the "do its" of life like a little Rocky Balboa fighting off Apollo Creed. Sometimes I feel like I am defending my very soul when I run through a yellow light rather than cautiously stopping and giving up on my rush to beat out a few seconds of drive time. Turn back to the Christian song and give up on Miles? What? Lordship is nothing if it is not submission to a "do it" you despise in the broken corners of your sin cringled brain. Oh, to love the "God of all grace". Lordship beyond "what?"

Running on Empty

For the second time in seven months my laptop has been stolen out of my car. The thief stole the quarters out of my ashtray, the cokes and waterbottles out of my cooler and my son's basketball. He even took the quarters out of my son's wallet lying on the floorboard. For five minutes, the laptop sat in my car in the church parking lot. It was 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday and absolutely no one was around...or so I thought. Why does Satan have to put so much thought into getting my laptops...not sure what his gripe is with me. This is the second laptop I have had stolen at our church. Another laptop was taken from my car while I was leading a Bible study...of course my car was stolen along with it. So why does Satan care so much about my laptops? Has he targetted them as a major force of power against his kingdom? Is he that interested in getting my sermons from me or those cell group Bible studies? Did he decide I was such a powerful warrior with the Dell laptop in hand that he had to break me free of my RAM and my Disc drive? Three thieves...three laptops...one master stategist fighting for his kingdom. I know it all sounds a bit melodramatic but are we really fighting against thieves and bad neighborhoods or powers and principlities in high places? I recently preached on Satan and his power in this world and so I shouldn't be surprised when he or his compatriots knock on my door but I am never really prepared for his blows. They are always so sudden, so maddeningly abrupt. You can never really prepare for them because they fit so perfectly into the commonalities of daily life and yet they are tazers that hit from your blindside...and they do hurt. Today a friend asked me to pray for her as she tried to make her jogging comeback. It felt good to return to reality. This is not our home and never will be. We live with the three realities crashing together. God is here, satan is here and my laptop just disappeared. It is a world of hide and seek...but it isn't a child's game.