Epiphanic Culture Questions, Or, Frankencense 2.0

I have two questions related to epiphany I'd like to play with a little. As I've been preparing the texts to preach for epiphany Sunday January 4th’s (Is 60, Matt 2:1-12), I can't escape these questions, though I've tried.

First, why would people (kings, nations, magi, "seekers") come streaming to Israel/church? Both Isaiah and Matthew present outsiders as streaming, parading, running towards God’s people. Why? What do we (the church) offer that makes them want to come? These images don’t exactly line up with reality. So what were the authors thinking about? The texts point to two realities: the presence of God as light in the community (Isaiah), and Jesus as the King and lord in town (Matthew). When those become known, the people come. I think I want to suggest that even deeper than that is a certain quality of community that draws them in. Duane Friesen says “The church just first be a new society for it to contribute meaningfully to the peace of the city where it dwells…The establishment of an alternative community is what makes the Christian faith a potent force in the world, not simply the ideas or teachings of Jesus.” In other words, the church is part of the good news that brings the people streaming in.

Second, and even more fascinating for me to ponder, is the question, What gifts does the world bring that can/will bless us? Again, both our texts present outsiders coming and not just hanging out with God’s people, but giving them substantial gifts. The magi, Melchizidek, the widow of Zaraphath, the prostitute anointing Jesus feet, the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus many meals with outsiders, Rev 21:24-26, etc... are stories that remind me we must be willing to say yes (and also no) to culture. Jesus himself had a curious habit of receiving all the wrong things from all the wrong people; and doing it cheerfully! But haven't we Mennonites been quicker to the no answer than the carefully thought out yes?
I hunger to think about what our world, and particularly the people we come into contact with, have to offer the church and God's kingdom this year. In my head swims the tension between trying to answer this with some form of generalized theology of culture, or by looking at community assets in my own locality (Houston). Either way, Isaiah 60:7 pushes me to acknowledge that when the nations bring their many gifts, God will accept them. I wonder if we are as ready? And I suppose I wonder, too, if there is a point to accepting their gifts? What practical difference does it make for us to accept the gifts of the world?

Rather than just naming those things which the world offers, I am trying to narrow it down to (3, like the magi) things that do/will actually enhance our internal (fellowship) and external (mission) congregational identity at Houston Mennonite Church. Here's one attempt at a modern gold, frankencense, and myrrh. What are your thoughts?

Gift 1: Community.
I'm thinking of the diversity of peoples in Houston as a rich resource. And of the humility/authenticity of the poor that is a powerful example of the openness and sharing desperately needed in most anglo churches (including those I’ve been a part of). I'm also reflecting on how the entertainment industry has provided so many powerful examples of grace and forgiveness and brokenness: all necessary ingredients in true community (for instance, the movies Magnolia, and Last Temptation of Christ, and Rachel Getting Married; TV shows like Cheers; songs like Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day, Vertigo by U2, The Broken Road by Rascall Flats).

Gift 2: Truth.
Art reflects to us the world as it is. It allows us to see that which we are incapable or unwilling to see by ourselves. The three museums in Houston I've been since moving here have been utterly stunning. In unmasking reality, they have also clarified what "ministry" needs to look like in a globalized marketplace.
Media provides information without which we would have no choice but to be self-centered.
A friend of mine responded to an earlier version of this post saying, “The more work I do with the green movement the more I realize that scientists by and large have become the prophets of our day. They are holding up mirrors and revealing truth to us that we have not wanted to see.”
I also see truth in the Houston Area Survey conducted by Rice University Sociologist Stephen Klineberg. Check out his work at http://www.houstonareasurvey.org/ Work such as this gives us wonderful information about our locality and how to incarnate God’s just ways for our neighbors.

Gift 3: Power.
Citizenship. Respect. Freedom. All of these enhance the external dimensions of congregational identity, freeing and empowering us to fulfill our mission.
Here I am particularly interested in the beautiful irony provided us to be a critical, prophetic, holistic, subversive, progressive voice contrary to status quo politics and living. We have the power for change. Will we accept it?
As a non flag-waving Mennonite, please know I've never heralded citizenship or 'Merican freedom in one of my sermons before! I'm equally aware that in post-Christendom, the church's power is waning. This post-Christendom reality is from my persepctive, a "gift" in itself and worthy of much thought. But what I'm hoping to do by naming power (rather than waning power) as a gift is to allow us to intentionally utilize that power in conscious, fresh ways. Rather than using it to insulate us to be “The quiet in the land.”

Again, this is an epiphany message. As we celebrate stories of Gentiles streaming towards God's people, I also want to celebrate what they bring that changes us, makes us stronger, makes us different than we were before they came. Do these three gifts do that? Are we willing to let them enhance our own congregational identity? If so, how do we see this happening?

By Marty Troyer, January 4, 2009

A Christmas People

I am alone on Christmas for the first time in my life. I’ve always been surrounded by the people who have made me who I am. This year I said goodbye to Hannah and Kai Christmas morning as they traveled to be with her family. My family – like every year – has gathered in Oregon. And I have gladly stayed in Houston with Chubs.

I mention this, because I can’t read the Christmas story this year as being just about Christmas. I’ve been swamped by how many people are a part of the Christmas story that make it what it is. Beth, Zach, John, Mary, Joe, the shepherds, the wise men, the angels, Simeon, Anna. Without them, there is no Christmas. They are the Christmas people, who say yes to God, and in doing so birth the light into our world. Without them there would have been no Christ.

And I love the way that Luke defines the Christmas people: they are the ones who see Jesus for who he is! Like the shepherds who “watch” their sheep then give thanks for what they have “seen” at the manger, Simeon and Anna are “looking” for salvation, and find it in the Christ child. Peace, salvation, healing, hope, shalom, wholeness, enough (See Psalm 72:7, Isaiah 2:1-4, 9:5-6). These are the promises the Christmas people saw coming true in Jesus. Zechariah, Mary, and today Simeon sing about the centrality of Jesus for the way of peace. And so these people both birthed, and were birthed by the Christmas story.

But like Simeon’s predictions about Jesus in 2:34-35, there are those in the story who obviously do not see. The innkeeper, for instance, and the priests in charge of circumcision and sacrifice (See Luke 2:21-24) are only present between the lines, they aren’t even mentioned as characters! Somehow they miss the true meaning, they don’t see. Likewise, Herod in Matthew wants to see Jesus, but only for destruction. I wonder how well I see? Do I allow Christ to be Christ? Or must I box him in a safe, agreeable way? Am I part of the Christmas people, willing and wanting to birth peace and hope in our world? Or am I focused only on myself?

I guess what I’m trying to say is that as amazing as the Incarnation is, that’s not all Christmas is. It is also about the Christmas people that made the story possible. It is the celebration of those who say yes to God, then sit back and watch Christ be birthed into our world. We, like the characters in the story, sit around the manger bug-eyed with excitement for news of Christ’s arrival. We too are a Christmas people. We know the story and gather around the manger, we worship the child become Lord, we sing the songs and long for the salvation. We are a Christmas people.

To be faithful to Christmas, we not only celebrate the birth of Jesus as incarnation, we also must equally celebrate the birth of Jesus as regeneration and new life in us. Like the song says, “Christ is born today.” Our world does not hunger for right theology, the intricacies of God made man. Our world hungers for the grace-filled existence lived by the Christmas community who have themselves experienced the new life in Christ. Peter said, “By his great mercy God has given us a new birth into a living hope (1 Peter 1:3).” Likewise, Paul says “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me (Galatians 2:20).” And “if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness; … and his Spirit dwells in you (Romans 8:10-11).”

This Christmas, I celebrate the birth of Jesus into our world, all those years ago. But this Christmas, I also celebrate Jesus community, those who made Christmas possible. And more than anything, I celebrate that Christ is born today in hearts, homes, and congregations around the world. I wait with eagerness to see what Christ will birth in our midst? What forms of peace and good news will be born out of us in the new year? What shape will the love of Christ have in our hearts and community?

We are a Christmas people. May Christ be born in us today!

By Marty Troyer, December 28, 2008.

Seeing the Face of God in the City

Following 9/11, and Hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Ike certain Christian leaders suggested that these events were orchestrated by God. I read in the Houston Chronicle Saturday that some of them still see AIDS in the same light. America, it seems, is guilty and in need of punishment. Terrorists, devastating storms, and debilitating disease were simply the tools used by God to perform God's will.

These are all examples of where people claim to see God at work.
But, funny thing is, I don’t see God in any of those. Or in sports victories, great parking spots, or robust stock portfolios.

What does it mean to see God at work in our world? If it’s not those above, what is it? What is something we can look at and confidently say, “God did that”? Or, “God was in that”? How do we know when we’ve seen God? What kind of activities are worth God taking the time for?

I bring this up, because it’s Advent, the season of waiting and watching. This is the time we’re supposed to be like those ancient kings trying to read the signs of the times to know when and where the Messiah is going to show up.

And I bring this up, because I think our world needs more of God. If the material is all there is, I think we’re out of luck. But Christianity has always said that God is real, and that God acts in human history, and that we as humans can benefit from and praise God for his actions in our midst.

But I bring this up, mostly, because I want to know what God’s up to this year, and where I can go to see it! I want to see God! It's been a brutal couple years in this department for me. A reality that's completely changed my faith and my theology. So I don't mention this lightly.

But I’m not sure we can see God. Or rather, I'm not sure we've been taught how to see God. I, for one, have for too long looked in the wrong places and events. I need to be trained to see.

Some texts, such as Isaiah 61:1-11, absolutely assume the possibility of God acting in the world. And it clearly assumes that we will know it when we see it.

Our bold, brash author starts off saying, “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me.” Oh yea, we’ve heard that before from the syrupy sweet piety of those we've learned not to trust. Like those damned religious leaders, or politicians. HOW DO YOU KNOW GOD IS WITH YOU??? Sounds pompous, arrogant, and proud.

But he says that for a very interesting reason. He says it not because he’s special, or blessed, or recently inherited a nice piece of property. No, he says it because the Lord has anointed him to do something that is not in his own self interest. It wasn’t about him, but about the people God has called him to share his life with.
The author knows he has the spirit of God upon him, because no one would come up with this stuff on their own. Seriously, check this out. He’s asked to do seven things:
1. Bring good news to the poor
2. Bind up the brokenhearted
3. Proclaim liberty to captives, and release to prisoners
4. Proclaim the year of Jubilee, and the day of vengeance
5. Comfort all who mourn
6. Provide for those who mourn
7. Give them (the mourners) good things in place of their bad.

Who wants to spend their days with the poor, the brokenhearted, with prisoners, and those who are in mourning? Sounds depressing doesn’t it?
He’s saying, “I know I’ve got the spirit of God in me, because I’m doing these strange things.” He's claiming to be blessed like Henri Nouwen, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero: those called from their success to live and learn among the least of these.

You know what? Maybe he's right. Maybe when we see people doing these things, God is there.

Let’s be clear about something. We’re not looking for angels, miracles, or storms. These are things the prophet has done, not God directly. God didn’t suspend science and nature to pull this off. No! God worked through a willing human being. Like you, like me.

But it doesn’t end there. We’re just getting started. These actions,… these actions actually work!
They accomplished something pretty spectacular! They led to a change in the identity of the audience. Those who once were poor, sad, broken, locked up, marginalized, outcast? Now they are called “Oaks of Righteousness.” No longer losers, now they are “The Planting of the Lord.” Now we see this picture of them as stable, healthy, empowered and now empowering. Something’s happened, something has changed for them!
Like John the Baptist last week, who not only proclaimed Comfort, he made it so that the people actually experienced and lived Comfort.

Maybe he's right. Maybe when we see people stable and transformed, God is there.

And still there is more! Not only do we see the prophet doing these great things. And not only do these things actually work. Those who were once in terrible need, are now serving others. Those served, have become the Servants! It’s the domino effect right before our eyes: God acts on the prophet (by anointing and sending him), the prophet acts on the people, and now the people act for the sake of their city. Their transformation is so complete they’re pictured not as eking out an existence via sharecropping. They are freed to serve others through the blessing of immigrants who serve them! And they go on to rebuild their city.

So, maybe he's right. Maybe when we see those served become servants, God is there.

I want to see God. To do so, I need to take off my ancient glasses of personal piety and blessing that focus on the grab-bag of goodies God provides with the wave of "his" magic wand. Instead, I'm training myself to see God in this big beautiful new city of mine: Houston. Following the prophet's lead, I'll look in new places and events, new neighborhoods and people, for the face of God at work in our world. I hope I'm courageous enough to join in with what God is already up to.

By Marty Troyer, December 21, 2008

Jacob's Well

Sometimes you forget how important orientation in life is. All of us, whether Christian, atheist, postmodern, young or old, have found some way of navigating through the landscape of life. Maybe our way isn't working very good, or maybe it's seamless. But everybody has a worldview, a way of orienting themselves to one another and the world we live in. For the last several months, its fair to say, my way of orientation has been slipping. Or more succinctly, I've lost my orientation.

This past Sunday Hannah and I were at Jacob's Well in Kansas City with our friends Derek and Joy. JW is a postmodern church in Midtown KC, full of trendy young adults and hip ambience. Keenly aware that faith -which is how as a Christian I've learned to orient myself over the years - hasn't been working well for me lately, I did not expect to experience much. We went mostly for a professional scouting report, just curious as a pastor to see another church in action. I, at least, got way more!

Things were slow out of the gate, songs I'd never heard were tough to sing (even regular attenders were just listening much of the time). The lyrics to one song, "Horse and Rider," were fantastic though, a great blend of radical politics and strong faith. But then, Tim began to speak, and I was sucked in. Initially, I was taken by his style. Funny, participatory, off the cuff. But he began to paint a broader picture, one that included me squarely in the bulls eye, based on Phil 3:1-14, an orientation passage if ever I've heard one. He hammered on about: spiritual clutter, second hand faith, shoulds and oughts, and defining self based on external voices. These are, for most of us, our primary ways to orient ourselves to God, others, our world, and ourselves. But not Paul. And not, according to Tim, for us either. No, our orientation, our defining element, is Christ. The story of Christ is the grain of the universe, the way things are, the way to orient ourselves. "Forget what lies behind damnit! Press on towards the heavenly calling you will find in the worldview of Christ." Man that's not why I went there.
Sermon over, we moved seamlessly into communion, a vertical & horizontal act of orientation, complete with a rocking song based on the beattitudes. "These are words to build a life on," no doubt that was true for me at noon Sunday, I was singing my way back to reality. "Sing your freaking heart out," we screamed, marinating ourselves deeper and deeper into the worldview, the faithfulness, of Christ. And as I sang, as we worshipped, I felt oriented. I felt "lined up," I felt my confidence rising, hope peeking its head again, the unmistakable urge to commit myself again to God. "Blessed are the poor, blessed are the outcast, blessed are the loosers, blessed are the weak," on and on in chanting fashion the importance of orientation -of worship - hit me: this is how we form ourselves. This is how we heal the world.

And so we left KC, wishing Jacob's Well were our church too. Longing to stay within the orientation Christ offers. What we found there is possible for all of us: in the words, the songs, the stories, the practices of the church. And mostly, in worship. Worship is, when done right, a step into reality, not a step back from it. May you be overwelmed by God's reality today!

A timely heresy; Or, Greatness versus family Part 2

I read somewhere that Australians think we Americans are nuts. Not nuts like the French think we're nuts (or Dixie Chicks, God bless their souls). Nuts about our work schedules, time schedules, the way we rush around all day long like the world depends on our high blood pressure. India apparently sees us the same way. And what of the famous Spanish siesta? Everybody takes them, and no reports are in of death due to a lower stress or Gross National Product. Come to think of it, the Protestant work ethic is a decidedly American phenomenon. If you look at the earth's population, we over-hurried Americans are just a small slice of the whole. Nobody else does what we do! Nobody else kills themselves trying to achieve, or cram their calendars. Does anybody else justify turning backs on family for the sake of retirement?

I remember clearly when my character took a dive. I remember it, because it happens to coincide with getting my life together for the first time in a long time. And for the most part, that meant being Australian in the midst of time-crunched America. Two years into the ministry, I assumed a 70 hour work week was a pastor's natural habitat. It never occurred to me (has it to you?) this was anything but good for my soul, and good for my ministry. In fact, I was taught more equals more! A widely held virus known as the Protestant work ethic infiltrated and distorted my vision of reality. This is the same virus that controls our PDA's and family calendar, the same virus that sends us scrambling from morning till hoped-for early retirement, and the same virus that judged me not on the quality of work I put in, but on the quantity of work above and beyond expectation. The judgment was unfair, but real. I was less a man after I got my hours under 50 (I was being paid for 40) than I was scatter-brained at 65. Didn't matter that I finally felt in control. Didn't matter that my quality control meters went off the charts! Didn't matter that real ministry started happening. Or that I began having a healthy social life. Or that others were being included in ministry more. Or even that in living a less hectic schedule, I now had more time for God. None of that mattered, and my character tanked with it.
For places like seminaries, churches, and businesses (and darn it to all if schools aren't catching on!) a 40 hour work week isn't just bad for business, it's heresy!

I couldn't care less if its heresy or not, what really stops me short, is knowing that greatness generally only comes to those on the rat race. I've always fancied myself as being a real leader when I grow up, maybe even have a bit of a legacy . I use to say I'd love to see my face on a bobble-head, that's when I'd know I had arrived! Or at least give me a by-line. Now all of a sudden, I've got a family. That changes everything. Every possible calendar event available to help me take that next step towards genuine leadership or notoriety, is a step away from family. Every career-furthering decision is a (necessary?) decision against family. Albeit in the short term. I don't doubt that most successful men and woman, if not all, have as their highest desire the security of their families. Perhaps they say to themselves, "I know I'm gone a lot, and that I work many hours. But I'm providing for them long term." Is the "but" designed to be some magical incantation that eradicates the missing relationship? Or maybe it's more practical, "In my career the company prospers on the backs of the new guys. I don't have a choice! But one day it will get better." But isn't not having a choice our choice?

The real heresies are the myths we live by
I'm becoming ever more suspicious if it's a complete myth to say that long term is more valuable than short term. Show me where this has worked? Find me a 20something young adult glad dad traded genuine relationship for college tuition. Or better yet, find me an incredibly successful church man who is known for his incredible love of his family. Billy Graham? James Dobson? Isn't our society and youth culture in particular a screaming testament to the terrible myth of long-term payoff? By then, for far too many families, it's too late. Everybody has to choose which is more important: family, or personal career.

I think I'm all fired up about this these days as Hannah and I get closer to starting our own family. Though, even that is weird to say. I've been married over two years, so we've been a family for two years. During those years of ministry, I've experienced nothing but pressure to put ministry first, and have caved too many times. And I guess when it really comes down to it, it's not that I even feel I have to choose between family and career. If it was, I'd choose family (leave saving the world to others less aware of their own God-complex). But it's not. It's more a choice about priorities, and who will get my greatest energies. But it's also a choice about health. How can I stay healthy so I'm happy and healthy in both areas of life? I've got to believe that good pastors don't have to equal overworked pastors. And just because that's heresy, doesn't mean it's not right for me.

Greatness versus family; Or, Debunking the Debunkers, The Sequel

I confess. I did what no self-respecting moviegoing Evangelical Christian should ever do. Without organized prayer support or supervision I rented (ooh, and gasp! even watched) The Last Temptation of Christ. This the Martin Scorcese film blacklisted and blasphemed by the conservative right for its treatment of Jesus as human. Of all movies, I've heard so many times, this is the devils favorite! How odd than, that my soul seems to have emerged unscathed. Perhaps even a bit better for it!

Don't get me wrong, the event completely scandalized me. As I'm sure it would be for any self-respecting moviegoing Christian who waited as long as I have to see this stunning theological treatise and spiritual treat. Agree or disagree with the Catholic directors theology (or the Reformed screenwriters), I found it utterly impossible to deny the value of the questions being raised. And maybe even more importantly, in seeing myself in Willem Defoe's Jesus, I found it hard not to like him even more. Which begs the question: What was I to be afraid of? Being made to think? Discovering Jesus' freedom to choose, or my own? Or did I wait 15 years to see this film because I too was afraid there are better ways to communicate theology than dusty book and stale lecture? The scandal happened in 1983 when the Moral Majority squashed the film from being made, than 4 years later when it was produced, boycotted it with all the intensity of the Sanhedrin. The censure is unwarranted.

Wrestling with God

Two things struck me as worth "struggling" with. The first and least important is the theology, specifically Christology, that pulses through the film. This is the great early Church Father debates revisited - with a kick! The breakdown goes like this: Is Jesus divine, or human? And if the easy answer is "both" than how do those two natures interact? I'm reminded that the Nicea-Chalcedonian creeds say, "100% God-100% human," but do nothing to explain what on earth (pun intended) that meant. This film is one attempt to do so, albeit in an "unorthodox" manner. Defoe's Jesus grows in his acceptance of divinity, even as he resists in a truly startling and human manner! Word for word though, this Jesus is even more upfront with his divinity than the gospel Jesus. That being said, this is like no flannel graph Jesus you've ever seen. Even with its faults, I've no doubt it could help someone like me see the Biblical Jesus in the midst of all the cultural whitewashing our churches put him through every day.

But the core of the film is Jesus struggle between greatness and the good life. In this, he's not alone! Jesus last temptation is my own, and forces us to the point of decision: career or family? Greatness or obscurity? I'm deeply disappointed the church could not see this dialogue as valuable for its church leaders. Because with this theme, the Jesus character is clearly a metaphor for humanity's spiritual struggle. Cutting through the demands of culture and of God, Jesus utters the films key line to his closest disciple, "Help, I'm struggling." And with that, I was hooked! On the one hand is God, ("Can you cast out God?"), and with him sacrifice, discipleship, divinity, and greatness. Exactly what the world needs! On the other hand is Hannah and kids, Chubs and a life not caught up in success and overextended busy-ness. Should it escape our attention so easily that all the great men of history completely shafted their families? Ghandi. Billy Graham. Martin Luther King Jr. Can you be both great and an excellent family man? And if not, are "heroes" those who intentionally choose career over family? Or are the real heroes those who choose family over fame?

This film is a 150 minute surgical but fictional exploration of Jesus' own words, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me?" What would it have looked like if God had answered that prayer? How would history be different? What would have come of Jesus disciples? Of the Christian movement? Actually, it all kind of reminded me of the hobbits dreaming of the Shire. But did theygo back before it was time?

There's no way any self-respecting movie lover could give the ending away (M. Night fans beware, there's a great twist!)! But it's the most engaging and honest exploration of these two primary questions I've heard. In the sense that the movie and I come out on two very different sides of the second question, maybe Jesus isn't just a metaphor after all. Because of that, I'm confident there's no heresy to be found in the film, at least not by anyone titling their blog "20First Century Heretic." There are some startling eccentricities, interpretations, and detours from Scripture. All of which did nothing but raise my awareness of how narrow my own interpretations and eccentricities are. And with that, I debunk you, you wacky debunkers! Crawl back into the cave built to protect you from thought! Everybody else, grab some popcorn and come on over, I've got the movie till next Thursday at noon!

Ooh, and one more thing, if you thought Mel Gibson's satan was creepy, you ain't seen nothing yet!

The fear of God

Frankenstein. Darth Vadar. Freddie Krueger. Aliens. The Joker. And the new and never better Doc Ock. Villains that break into our worlds via story, movie, and legend. They kill. They terrorize, They steal and they maim. They bring our deepest fears to life, if from a safe distance for us to enjoy. The human race has always been thrilled by villains, and loves to create enemies. I for one, will never forget as an impressionable 2nd grader my first encounter with the Creature from the Black Lagoon! Because, as M. Night Shyamalan's Unbreakable so richly pointed out -there are no hero's without a villain.

I have a villain in my life. An enemy set to kick my ass, and not for the first time! Rebellion. Traitor. Blasphemy. Law-breaker. Heretic. Demon-man. Rogue. These are the words associated with my villain. And I'm scared to death of him! I've got nothing short of everything to loose to my enemy should he desire to take it.

And in a wicked twist of irony, he just so happens to be my hero too. Jesus is his name, and like the hounds of heaven, he won't back off.

A recent story of my destruction help's to make sense. I was foolishly meditating my way through the Sermon on the Mount one pericope at a time. My intent was to hold the gospel in one hand, my life in the other, and judge/adjust accordingly. READER BE WARNED: Do not, under any circumstances, try this @ home by yourself. You need assistance!
I sailed along nicely for a week or so, performing casual touch up jobs to the facade I called my life. Then he wiggled the brick called Matt 7 and the whole thing fell flat:
"Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?"

I felt like the wicked witch of the west melting under the watery strain of Jesus' tears. Jesus came at me like a hungry warg, tearing at my bitter heart. Relentless, and refusing to stop! I hated every minute of it. I hated the gospel mirror I'd stuck myself in front of. I hated the truth it reflected. You must deny yourself, pick up your cross daily, and follow me. Not this kid! No way, I refused to die. It was March 23, a day so harsh for soul my resistance sent me spinning, spinning for months on end in the land of shadow. I slammed the book shut and didn't come back. My journal -done. Bible reading -not possible. The only hope I had of winning was closing my ears and hoping he'd go away. He didn't. My bitterness, selfishness, conceit, and hatred remained unacceptable to my hero/villain. So there, after months of stress in the wilderness, he vanquished me!

Oh sweet surrender! Oh how glorious the feeling of opening up that stinking pit of a room to God and allowing him to sweep it clean. And what a concrete example that, "An act of commitment does not change our reality... we are overwhelmed by the negative inertia of our unevangelized zones...there is much within us that is resistant to God's love (Michael Casey)."
Part of my maturation has been a deepening understanding that there is indeed much within me that resists God and the Kingdom. "Repent!" he won't stop calling, "and order your life according to the kingdom of God!" I'd love to Jesus, but I didn't realize that was part of the package. I had no idea believing in Jesus meant also believing him! Safety, power, popularity, my past, my future, free time, a second car, consumerism, saving money, fitting in, capitalism, competition, becoming the best - none are immune to Jesus attack, or his love.

Some battles he wins. I usually get excited and describe these moments with words like: new creation, being born again, conversion, filled with the Spirit, recommitting, etc... But there are still times when I win. On the outside we call these: life, liberty, or the pursuit of happiness. But really they are death, sin, and selfishness.

Whether Jesus be a hero or a villain depends on where we're at in life. Oddly, he often comes as both. It's just a bit harder to see the villain with all the happy-talking vegetables and the flannel graph lying around. I mean think about it, for every Zachaeus in the New Testament there's a story of a Sadduccee so scared of Jesus he spends his nights praying to God for ways to kill him! There are many, many folks who simply were so tired of Jesus pestering them they finally killed him instead. And it was simple stuff too, that he was teaching! Don't throw stones. Don't call people names. Eat with the losers. Sell your stuff. Don't sell your stuff in church. It wasn't rocket science, but it was the kind of stuff that fired people up! It just so happens that's the same kind of stuff that fires me up too. And because he loves me like crazy, he won't let me get away without experiencing change. I'm all right with that. More than all right! I welcome it. So bring it on Jesus, hit me with all the holiness you got!
And let us pray to our villainous hero: "Your kingdom come. Your will be done." AMEN.