Politics and Religion and the News Media

This past weekend, Rick Warren and Saddleback Church hosted a civil forum for John McCain and Barack Obama. The event was carried live on CNN. Last night (Monday), Rick Warren was on Larry King Live to discuss his thoughts on the interviews and the controversy surrounding John McCain's absence from the 'cone of silence'.





What I enjoyed most about this forum was how Rick Warren kept the tone civil. Neither candidate spoke harshly about the other. Each was given a chance to tell America who they are and what they stand for. Rick asked important questions that believers ought to ask from those who wish to lead us. But most importantly, I think that Rick was able to show America that these two candidates, as opposite as they are, are not the evil persons you hear about on talk radio. He knows both candidates as friends and he treated them with respect. I took away from the forum a new picture of each candidate. Of Barack Obama, I saw an intelligent and thoughtful man of great courage, to come before an audience he knew to favor his opponent. My impression of John McCain is that he will lead from his heart, rather than his intellect. I respect both candidates more now than before Rick Warren's civil forum.

I've also found that if I'll turn off talk radio and if I don't listen to those political analysts who try to tell us what the candidate really meant to say, that I'm less prone to anger and hatred. I think the same thing is true whether you're listening to Rush and Sean or to Tom Joyner and Al Franken, or whether you watch CNN or Fox News. The people who report on, and who spin these candidates, are worse than the person they want to defeat.

I want to thank Rick Warren for showing us how to keep civility in a civil forum. His credibility allows him access to the most powerful people in the world, and I believe that that is what Christians ought to be fostering rather than fear. After all, the hearts of the kings are in the hand of God. God doesn't want His children to live in fear of the person in office of even the most powerful country on earth. Nor does He want us to depend upon our government to meet our needs - that's His job.

Prophesy and Astrology

You've seen the ads from psychics and astrologists promising to tell your future - for a fee. You may have grown up in a church that believes that God still speaks to His children through prophets. Both are mysterious, though the church is quick to point out that psychics and astrologists are witches and pawns of Satan intent on leading you away from the Lord.

I've been exposed to both, though the psychics and astrologists tend to be very general - not like the lady in the link above who promises specific times and events soon to occur in my life. She seems sincere, but if it's really vital to my future to know this information should she withhold it unless I send her $60? What if the lack of this knowledge ends up killing me?

A few years ago a prophet spoke at our church. He said he had a vision from God where he was standing on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, looking out at Europe. At first Europe seemed to be prospering with lots of ships loading and unloading at the ports, trucks and trains hauling goods back and forth. Then pieces of the European continent began falling off into the Atlantic. Greater chunks fell leaving Europe devastated. The pieces that fell into the Atlantic created a giant tidal wave that swept towards the United States. The prophet watched as the wave rose as high as the clouds and seemed about to crush him until God spoke to him and told him to move into the shelter of a huge building with columns. The wave broke over the US shore, over the building where the prophet sought shelter. In its wake were destroyed homes and businesses. The damage was far beyond what the government could hope to rebuild.

Troubled, the prophet asked God why He had shown him this vision. God explained that a huge economic storm was coming (this was about 5 years ago when the prophesy was given). Europe, which has been thriving under the European Union, would see their prosperity shatter almost overnight. The result of the EU fall would have sweeping impacts on the U.S. with a magnitude almost as severe as it had on Europe. Then God explained about the shelter in which He had protected the prophet. The shelter was the Church. With the government unable to help the citizens, those who are in the Church will rise to meet the needs of our countrymen. People will be forced to look to the Church for help because only the Church has the resources they need. The end result was that God would be revealed and glorified before the world. However, God cautioned the prophet that he must warn us (Christians) now so that we will be prepared to survive and serve. We must distance ourselves from debt; we must not pour our money into bigger homes, more expensive cars, or waste money on movies like Tropic Thunder, Step Brothers, and Pineapple Express.

The front page of today's Wall Street Journal talks about the first cracks in the European Union economy. The Euro is down; they are feeling the same pressures we are with housing and job woes. Is this what God prophesied just a few years ago? More importantly, are we prepared to survive the storm?

The astrologist predicts that there is a 103 day period in my near future in which many opportunities will present themselves that, if I take advantage of them, will turn my finances around as well as improve my love life. I'm getting married in 79 days, so my love life will definitely improve then. I've assumed that our finances would improve too because we'll be supporting one household rather than two. Should I send this lady $60 to find out specifically what I should do and when to look out for the opportunities? Should I assume that the prophet's word is coming about - which is the sign of a true prophet?

The Church has presented God as mysterious, and tells us that His ways are not our ways. Astrologists would argue that God created the cosmos for a reason, not just to give us something to look at at night. Jesus said that if you've seen Him, you've seen the Father; but even His disciples had trouble understanding his teachings. God has used an ass in the past to help someone. He uses prophets today. We can't put Him in a box and say He wouldn't use an astrologist. So you tell me, should I spend that $60 on my personal prediction or should I buy $60 in lottery tickets?

Amway Churches

Let me be clear up front that I love Amway products and Amway people and even those Amway motivational tapes I bought every week. It's the business end I struggled with. I also love the Church and Christians, but I'm not so crazy about the organizational aspect of Christianity. Both have similar strengths and weaknesses.

I joined Amway three times, the last time in its new face as Quixtar. I could recognize a distributor from a mile away, just like I can pick out a military man even though he’s wearing civvies. I've been in the same church that have undergone three transformations, first as a broken Southern Baptist church, then as a purpose driven church, and now one that's only purpose is our relationship with God and one another. I can usually pick out other Christians, though usually I’m looking for those who I believe appear to live more Godly lives than my own.

I miss the big Amway functions where thousands of the faithful turn out to celebrate the success of others in the business. I miss the members of our church who have split away to do their own thing; far more have left than have stayed. The loss of relationships has been painful. Hurtful things have been said on both sides. Both sides have thought they were justified before God, thus the other side has to be in rebellion and estranged from the Body of Christ. So sad that we play those games with one another.

One of the things I hated most about Amway was sponsoring new distributors. The thing I dislike most about the church is witnessing. I used to hate being recruited by distributors who couldn’t recognize that I was already one of them. I still hate when another Christian gets in my face and asks me, “If you were to die today, do you know where you’ll spend eternity?” As if they can’t look at me and see Jesus! I didn’t want any part of that person’s business or their church if they just saw me as another mark.

In Amway it's a numbers thing - you threw as much mud on the wall as you could and worked with what stuck. All you need is six, who can get six, who can get six (sounds demonic doesn't it?) In Church it's about numbers too. The bigger your numbers, the more your collections, and the more programs you can offer, and the more ministry opportunities you can make available to the congregation. In Amway we had our own lingo for those who couldn't see what we saw in the business: "Some will. Some won't. So what? Who's next?!" In Church we have our lingo for those who don't recognize the opportunity we're offering them: "Lost. Heathens. Unwashed." In Amway if you quit the business you were a ‘loser’. In church if you quit the church, you were a ‘backslider’. In Amway, anyone could be successful if they wanted it bad enough. In the Church, anyone can be saved, but they have to qualify for membership.

In Amway, if everyone on your team is doing what they're supposed to - buying from your own business, books, tapes and functions - you're the best of friends. In church if everyone is in lock-step with the church's articles of incorporation and by-laws and the mission's statement, and if you show up every time the doors are open, then you're counted among the chosen. But let a distributor balk at the price of a box of soap and all of a sudden you're a liability. Let a member of the congregation question the decision to go with cubed ice over a crushed ice machine and you've got a 'situation'.

The point I'm making here is that often we lose sight of our purpose for being part of an organization or system. Often we invest so much into the system that we feel obligated to protect our assets, and that thing becomes more important than our dreams or our God. We find our identities in the organization and measure our worth by the approval of others; but buck the system and watch out! It is easier to get out of the system than it is to get the system out of you.

Former Amway distributors who left under less than friendly circumstances often go off and find a new product to market. They'll say it's "Just like Amway; only better!" Christian churches will split and the people will go off and create a new church and believe it is better than what they left. It becomes a competition, and in competitions someone has to lose. Most times people will rejoice in the failures of the old organization. Oh, they might walk up and hug you if they meet you in a public place, but behind closed doors they're lying about you in order to make themselves appear to be right. Sometimes the people you were closest to will cross the street to avoid you, or snap at any attempt you make to be civil with them. It's about competition and being right. It's about worth.

When Amway morphed into Quixtar, it was promoted as the ultimate network marketing model out there. When mega churches began to decline and home churches began to gain more popularity, it was a movement of God. Nothing has changed, we're still playing the same game; we're just calling it something else.

The Church has taught that God sent His Son to become sin, and to suffer and die on that cross for our worthless souls. Sure Jesus loved us enough to die for us, but we're left wondering about the Father's love if He would do that to His own Son. If He hates sin that much, how disappointed and angry must He be every time I sin - which is several times an hour when I'm awake. Some of my dreams would fall under the sin category, especially the ones I don't want to wake up from.

The truth is, both Jesus and the Father loves us so much that they cooperated together to destroy sin so that it has no power over us. God makes no requirement of us, but made His own provision by taking our sins upon Himself and dying in human form so that we can experience the reality of His Kingdom.

Churches that preach the Word have seldom gotten it right. It's not about us conforming to a set of laws in order to be worthy of Christ's sacrifice; it's about Jesus, who never felt the need to compete or even to play their game. His Church isn't an organization or a building; it is a relationship between us and His Father. We don't need a system to confirm our worth. Before we were born, before Jesus died on that cross, before Creation itself, God found us worthy to be loved.

Unlike Amway which will someday become obsolete, the Church will last forever. But the Church as we know it today will bear little resemblance to the Bride Christ will return to claim. He is looking for those who love Him because they know Him.

I suppose I should close by saying that I’m exactly where I should be in a church relationship. That’s not to say that everyone else’ model is wrong, or that we won’t end up at the same Cross. This is simply where God has me right now. The Carpenter’s Shop hasn’t been for me another team to belong to, but a relationship with people who love Jesus and who don’t try to get me to conform to their system. We’re free to grow as fast or as slow as we allow God to invade our lives. We don’t look at one another and wonder how we can benefit from someone else. We see each other as fellow travelers God has joined because He loves us enough to never leave us. It is much easier to love others when you're not competing with them.

Grandfather Mountain

It's only the middle of August, but the temperature in Butner was a chilly 58 degrees this morning. The skies are blue, there's little humidity - it feels like a perfect fall day. The weather made me want to continue west rather than turn east towards work this morning. On the drive in I daydreamed about spending the day in the mountains, Grandfather Mountain to be specific.

At 9:30 in the morning, it's a bit cooler at Grandfather than here: 49 degrees, with a stiff breeze making it feel much cooler. Its shorts and sweatshirt weather on top of the Old Man.

The Mile High Swinging Bridge was constructed the year after I was born. It was originally made of wood and, true to its name, would sway back and forth as people walked from one cliff to the other side. In 1999 the wooden bridge was replaced with a steel bridge. It still sways a little, but the big difference is the sound of the wind passing between the metal slats and cables. It sounds as though the bridge is singing. The truth is, the bridge is just nature's vocal chords; the song is in the wind.

As a child I remember visiting Grandfather and still recall my mother's nagging to my father about how close he was to the edge of the narrow road that leads to the top of the mountain. Even now the road twists and turns back on itself and you need good brakes if you're going to come back down safely. But it's a beautiful place and one feels closer to God on that mountain. On one trip, my parents brought along my nephew Rudy. Rudy was always a handful, kind of like my daughter Jennifer. Mama wouldn't walk across the swinging bridge, but my father guided us boys over. After awhile we came back over and Mama asked "Where is Rudy?" We assumed he'd crossed back over before us, but Mama was at the end watching for us and assured us he'd not come across that bridge. My brother and I ran back across the bridge, pausing just long enough to see how far out we could spit. We found Rudy sitting on the edge of a rock, his feet hanging out into space. The nearest treetops were hundreds of feet below him. Where my parents would have used words to coax him back from the edge, my brother and I simply grabbed him and drug him back, then proceeded to hit and stomp him for scaring us so badly. Didn't he realize that if he'd fallen to his death that our vacation would be over and we'd have to go back home? How stupid could he be?

Nowdays there's a wildlife habitat at the base of the mountain for visitors to enjoy. One can watch otters, deer, eagles, and even black bears in their natural habitats. The black bear is the mascot of the Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains. There's one lucky male bear at Grandfather. His name is Kodak. The rest are females: Gerry, Dakota, Flower and Smoky in the large habitat and Elizabeth, Carolina and Punkin in the small habitat. Punkin is the oldest at 25 years. Some bears in captivity can live as old as 30, but the life expectancy for bears in the wild is only 3-5 years because they are a hunting species.

We've enjoyed the Highland Games in July where grown men wearing plaid skirts see how far they can toss telephone polls and boulders. http://www.gmhg.org/ Nearby is Linville Caverns and a couple of gem mining places where you can 'pan' for gold, rubies and emeralds. A little bit down the road is Valle Crucis, home of the original Mast General Store. http://www.mastgeneralstore.com/history.cfm.

The last time I visited Grandfather was on Father's Day in 2006. I arrived around 9:30 in the morning. In the summer you want to arrive before 10 or after 3 because of the crowd. I had lunch at the restaurant next to the wildlife habitat and left at 1 PM. When I exited the gates, there was a line backed down the road trying to get in.

Next summer my wife will be able to experience Tanawha, as the Cherokees used to call the mountain. We're dreaming about opening a bed and breakfast in the mountains. The Linville area sounds like a perfect place.

Maybe I should get a job as a travel agent.

Butterfly Kisses

My youngest daughter is a rising senior this year. In two weeks she will begin the 12th grade; nine months later she will be old enough to vote and on her way to college. Where has the time gone?

She almost wasn't here. Though her mom and I disagreed over abortion, I would have caved in since my wife felt we needed more time together before having a baby. But God stepped in and created something beautiful that has blessed our lives tremendously. Even though we ended up divorcing, Laura's mom and I have made it a point to love and raise this precious gift as best we possibly can. Soon our job will be over, though neither of us will ever stop being her parent. We can both say that she has made our job a lot easier because Laura has been an angel to raise. Some friends might not think so, but we do.

Since my daughter was 4 years old, she's spent just about every weekend with me. Shortly after separating from her mom I recall standing in line at Wal-Mart or at the grocery store with Laura sitting in the shopping cart chatting up the people in front or behind us. "My mom and dad are divorced. I live with my mom, but I stay with my dad on the weekend." Too much information, but what could I do? She was the apple of my eye, my link to sanity in a life I had no control over.

Before our divorce we spent a Thanksgiving in Nags Head. It was there that Laura sat on Santa's lap for the first time. Although she was deathly frightened by clowns and a bit unsure about Barney, she felt safe with the guy in the red suit and white beard. When it was her turn, Santa asked Laura what she wanted for Christmas. Her reply brought tears to my eyes and I turned with pride to look at the other parents as she said, "I want all the kids to have some food and a place to sleep." The previous Christmas we'd taken her to a charity event for homeless children. Though still in her stroller, Laura remembered seeing those children from various shelters in the Raleigh area. I shouldn't have been surprised at her memory however because Laura remembered all the songs and lines from all of her favorite Disney movies. Many times I've looked at her and wondered if she really isn't an angel disguised as a little girl.

At five, Laura was wiser about church than many adults are. Rather than sit through a boring sermon and pretend to be righteous, Laura would stay in the nursery by herself and color. We had no teacher during the sermon, but Laura was content to stay by herself until I came to get her. The only time she ever left the room on her own was in the middle of a service where the preacher was telling the congregation about his visit to the doctors to have his chest pains checked out. No sooner had he told us than Laura opened the door to the sanctuary and walked in holding a picture she'd drawn. She didn't look for me or acknowledge the congregation in any way, but went up the steps to the pulpit and handed the pastor her picture. Then she turned around and walked back out the way she came. Everyone giggled at how cute she looked. The pastor stood looking down at the picture for a moment and then held it up for us to see. It was a picture of a heart. The pastor said, "God truly speaks through His children. Here he's used this little girl to tell me there's nothing wrong with my heart and I could have saved myself $700 if I'd just trusted Him." That was just another instance that my baby girl has made her dad proud.

Her mom and I have been pretty protective of our daughter, something she's just now starting to rebel against. There have been some bumps along the way: she's required stitches three times in the same spot because she would break her fall with her chin rather than her hands; she's been trampled by a horse; she was running and, not paying attention, turned around just in time to run face-first into the corner of a post - that split her cheek open and left her looking like she'd been in an automobile accident. There was a time when we missed her one winter morning. There was snow on the ground and it was freezing outside. We searched the house, under the cabinets where she liked to hide and eventually looked outside. I finally caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. Laura was up in the tree line chasing a rabbit wearing only her pajamas. I ran after her and just caught her two steps from the road. She received one of the handfuls of spankings she would get for scaring the heck out of her mom and me.

As Laura has grown, she and I have had many opportunities to get away and have some fun times. We've done Busch Gardens to death but still love going there. We've driven down to Orlando for Sea World and driven back in one weekend. We've enjoyed Tweetsie Railroad, Ghost Town in Maggie Valley, and Cherokee NC; Gatlinburg, TN; she's skied at Massanutten, VA; and we've spent a glorious week at Myrtle Beach, SC. Our furthest adventures took us to Lake Tahoe and Las Vegas. For thirteen of her seventeen years, Laura has been my constant companion; even if all we do on a weekend is to go to the movies or play video games at Game Frog in Northgate Mall. We've been invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas at my pastor's home for as long as we can remember. We've been inseparable until I took a part-time job at a theater last Thanksgiving.

For years I've picked Laura up on Friday after work and dropped her off at school on Monday morning. Kissing her goodbye was always hard. As I drove away every week I'd pray the same prayer: "Father, bless Laura. Keep her safe, healthy, and close to your heart. Change me so I can be the best dad I can be." Every night I'd call to check on her day and the world wouldn't seem right until I knew she was safe at home and looking forwards to being with me again on the weekend. Her mom has been great for allowing me to have her as often as I have...even on Mother's Day weekends.

Now things are changing. In a few months I'll have a new wife. Laura will stand in as a bridesmaid at her dad's wedding. She wanted to give me away too, but the pastor said that he's going to ask my ex-wives to do the honors. A few months further down the road and my baby girl will be off to college and her own life. Right now she wants to go to Appalachian State with her best friend Erin, and get as far away as she can from her overly protective parents; but that depends on whether she can get scholarships. She will probably marry some guy who doesn't deserve her, despite her objections to being tied down and having children. At her wedding they will play "Butterfly Kisses" and I'll cry like I've done every time I've heard that song. No matter how old she gets, I'm always going to remember Laura as that little girl with the boyish haircut who held my hand when we walked, whose kisses were special because she was the only one who would kiss me, and who checked me up when she knew I was talking BS. She is God's gift...one I've got to love enough to let go.

Knowing Laura, she's going to come see her dad often. If she doesn't, Pam and I are moving in with her.

James Michael Pratt

For whatever reason, Blogger won't let me save James M. Pratt's link to his blog in my blog list, so I'm posting it here and hope you'll drop in and see what James is all about: http://www.jmprattcom.blogspot.com. James' newest book "As a Man Thinketh...In His Heart" is in print and available on Amazon. I posted an article on this book back in April, so scroll down there and see why this book had such an impression on me.

James is not only my favorite author, he's been a good friend and has been encouraging me to write Sea Tree. What has impressed me most about James is that he is so much like the characters in his books. James is a man of integrity, vision, humility and courage. Despite several best sellers, James has gone through four years without an income while he's worked on "As a Man Thinketh...In His Heart", a screenplay for his novel, "The Last Valentine", and starting up a new company with Mark Kastleman, Power Think and Power Think Publishing. During that time, James lost his mom and experienced other tragedies that would have caused many of us to give in to despair. His faith has inspired me as much as his encouragement has. When a best-selling author takes the time to respond to your emails and who treats you with encouragement, honesty and respect as James does, you've found a friend. I hope you'll visit James' new website: http://www.powerthink.com/index.php. Come September you'll find lots of ebooks at great prices, many free.

Enjoy.

Randy Alcorn

Although my favorite writer has to be James Michael Pratt, followed by Nicholas Sparks, perhaps my favorite Christian writer is Randy Alcorn. His book, "Edge of Eternity" was my first incursion into Christian fantasy (as opposed to Christian fiction). EoE does in words what "The Masterpiece - A Toymaker's Dream" did in music and dance.

"Deadline", a detective novel, has been turned into a screenplay with Chuck Norris playing the main character. Don't know if it will ever make it to film, but the novel is great. As with James Pratt's screenplay for "The Last Valentine", Hollywood often takes the story so far away from the original that the two are unrecognizable. I hope that "The Last Valentine" and "Deadline" get the same thoughtful treatment that Nicholas Sparks' "Message in a Bottle", "A Walk to Remember", and "The Notebook" received.

Randy has several non-fiction books in print as well, probably his most popular, "Heaven", earns him lots of radio and television interviews. Check out Randy's blog at www.randyalcorn.blogspot.com.

On Prayers

Our church, The Carpenter's Shop, meets in Jon's Main Street Diner in Creedmoor, NC. We're a small group - 17 if my daughter and grandson show up. Occasionally some friends will drop by and once in awhile a visitor. Those who don't know us that well leave thinking "Well, that was different." We don't have an order of service, praise music, an offering collection or even a sermon. What we do is we sit around and discuss some scripture and talk about what's going on in our lives. We are a church of friends.

Usually, Jimmy will welcome everyone with something like this: "It's so good to see you all. Thank God you survived another week and chose to be with us today!" Then Jimmy will ask if there are any prayer requests. We'll pray for my daughter's cancer, for a neighbor of Jimmy's parents who's having some tests run next week, for high school and college exams, for Jon's business, Jimmy's business, the family of a high school student who lost their dad recently...whatever is on our hearts. Once in awhile someone will ask for personal prayer, often for sickness and we'll obey scripture by gathering around that person and the laying on of hands in prayer. We'll simply believe that it is God's will for His children to be whole and leave the healing up to Him.

A couple thousand years ago, Jesus was sitting around with His friends, perhaps around a meal. It was only a few weeks before He would endure the cross and Jesus was more than a little troubled by what lay ahead. Still, Jesus was always more concerned with others than with Himself and He wanted to teach his friends (disciples) about prayer; so he asked them concerning his upcoming crucifixion, "Should I pray and ask the Father to save me?" Probably everyone around the room nodded in the affirmative; that sounds like a reasonable request and it's what they would have done if they were about to be tried and persecuted. Perhaps a part of Jesus wanted to ask His Father to save Him too. He would offer that prayer later, but tonight He wanted to teach His friends something about prayers. Jesus knew why He was here, for He said to them, "No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify Your name!"

Jesus had the same choice we do, to pray a 'save me' prayer, or pray a 'glorify God' prayer. We've all prayed those 'save me' prayers, asking God to get us out of our circumstances; and we've been disappointed when our prayers seemingly weren't answered. We know God can cure cancer, we know He loves us, so why did He not do as we asked? Didn't Jesus say that we could ask anything in His name and God would answer our prayers? Why then does God not answer prayers that are asked in faith and hope by His children?

Perhaps the answer lies in the example of Jesus. In the Garden, Jesus again asks God to save Him from his circumstances, but as He did with His disciples, Jesus adds, "Yet not my will, but Thy will be done." Jesus knew that the best thing that could happen to Him was if God was glorified in His circumstances.

God doesn't get much glory when things are going well for us - when we're healthy, our finances are in order, our marriage on good terms. We assume it's because He's blessed us for our obedience. But let us be beaten down to the point when there's nothing we can do to save ourselves and God comes through in the nick of time and all of a sudden we're praising God. When things occur in life that can only be attributed to God and not to our own power or someone else', then God gets the glory and the world gets to see a loving Father who cares so much about us that He would allow His Son to die so that we don't have to.

What I've learned from Jesus' prayer is that I should pray concerning my son's foreclosure on his first house - Father, glorify your name in that situation! Father, glorify your name in my daughter's cancer! Father, glorify your name in my marriage, in my job, in my weakness, in my dependence upon You! May you be glorified as I trust you have a better plan than my own. Even when I don't see how my circumstances can bring you glory, Father, have your way; so that your name may be glorified and so that the world will know your love through my circumstances.

Many will say to Me in that day....

For a long time I've felt uneasy about that scripture in Matthew 7 that says, “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. 22 Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ 23 And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’ Who are these people who've fooled themselves into believing they had a saving relationship with Christ and how does that reconcile with Romans 10 which states, "9 that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." Which is it?

A recent uproar among some fundy Christians over a photograph displayed inside Abercrombie and Fitch was the subject of yesterday's sermon...one in which we packed up and drove to the mall to see what the fuss was all about. (The photo is on the sidebar.) I'll let my pastor provide his take on the reaction of some Christians to this picture. You can read his blog here once he gets around to it: http://www.jchalmers.blogspot.com/

My dilemma is this: should all Christians be equally upset over what some Christians perceive to be sinful? What about the Christians who aren't offended? Are we counted among those whom God will cast aside because our level of righteousness doesn't measure up to God's standards, or even to the standard of other Christians? Or is this really something that we should be devoting so much attention to when there are more pressing problems we could be addressing?

I grew up in a fundamentalist church. We were taught that anyone can come to Christ as they are and that they can be saved by grace regardless of their past. That's fine so far. But after about 15 minutes of salvation, we spring the bad news on the new convert: Your ticket is punched, but if you want to please God you've got to follow this list: join a church, get involved in a discipleship program, tithe, get rid of the tattoos and nose rings, burn your rock and roll CDs, quit your job at the liquor store, marry the woman you're shacking up with, attend our Addiction Recovery program so we can get you off drugs; and oh yeah - we need you to work in the nursery for the next four Sundays.

Most Sundays we heard messages that contained about 2 minutes worth of grace, love, and trust, and 58 minutes of "Thou shalt nots". So it's not surprising when a Christian father is incensed when he and his family are exposed to A&F's 'art'. He probably feels like he's serving God and that it is his mission and ministry to protect shopper's eyes from this blatantly sinful sexuality that has nothing to do with the pants the store wants to sell their customers. Christians are always looking for causes to prove their righteousness. But what Jesus says in Matthew makes me wonder if we're just fooling ourselves. The truth is, righteousness doesn't produce relationship; relationship produces righteousness. Earlier in Matthew 7 Jesus says, "13 “Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. 14 Because[a] narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." Can it be that our efforts to please God miss the mark and we're not on the same path to eternal life?

Jesus didn't come to save us from Hell; He came to reveal His Father and to offer us a relationship with our Creator. We were going to Hell anyway, but Jesus said, "In my Father's house are many rooms....come and follow me...I am the Way". So although our goals might be similar, our motivations for being Christian are entirely different. If we do not want a relationship with our Father beyond a get-out-of-Hell-free ticket, and whenever we need His hand because we tried to manage our lives under our own power - then is that a saving relationship or does it get you in the line with other goats? If we're unwilling to surrender our agendas for God's agenda, if we trust ourselves more than we trust Him, do we having saving faith?

Simply obeying some commandments and separating ourselves from the rest of the world is not enough it seems. He isn't interested in slaves, but sons and daughters. If I wake up every day and ask Him to bless my plans for the day, I've missed the relationship. I must wake up and seek His plans for my day. I must trust Him to be there when I don't sense His presence. If He doesn't give me the answer I hoped for, I must know that He has a better way and that He is motivated by love for me. As I surrender my control and learn to trust Him - because He has never failed me and He never will - I find that I've grown to love Him and to really see Him as my Father.

So when I view God as my loving Father, I don't go where He doesn't want me to go, or get involved in behaviors and activities that come between my relationship with my Father. I'm not trying to earn His pleasure; I'm simply enjoying His alternative to my own way. I know that as I trust Him more, that He's going to challenge me and take me to places I'd never have risked going without Him. The gate may be narrow and the road may not always be smooth, but at the end is a seat at the Father's table and a room He's prepared especially for me.

What Was God Thinking?

Several people were sitting around a table at Jon's Main Street Diner talking about their faith. One says to the others, "The issue is obedience. God told Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit of one tree and they couldn't even obey that simple command. It's about OBEDIENCE, plain and simple." The others nodded in agreement; but is it really that simple?

I don't know about you, but I think the top three questions I might have for God when I get a chance to ask Him about this grand experiment called Creation would be:

1. Why did you create that tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; or why didn't you plant it on the opposite side of the globe rather than right there in the Garden?
2. If you wanted that tree there, why didn't you do more than simply tell them they would die if they ate it's fruit? Why didn't you tell them that it would destroy their trust in you; that it would destroy their relationship with one another; that disobedience would result in so much pain and that their descendants would hate them for messing up what would have been a perfect world?
3. (And this is one that, even if God chose to answer, it would make no sense to us and would simply have to be one of those only He will understand.) Was it worth it? Was Adam and Eve's disobedience worth the millions, even the billions, of lost souls condemned for an eternity in Hell?

Your burning questions may differ from mine. I'm no biblical scholar - don't want to be one. I'm sort of a jack of a handful of trades - master of none. But I do wonder what the world and what my life would have been like had Adam and Eve not screwed up.

While I have no satisfactory answer to the last question, I can kinda wrap my mind about a possible scenario that helps to understand the first two questions. Why was that tree in the Garden to start with? The answer raises another question: Was obedience God's ultimate desire from humans? I think there is abundant evidence in scripture where his motivation wasn't our obedience but our affection and our trust - which sort of answers part of question #2.

If God's primary purpose for the tree had been to command our obedience, He must have known up front that fear of the consequences of disobedience (or fear of the Lord) wasn't going to be enough to stop Adam and Eve from taking that first bite. True, neither Adam or Eve had ever learned about fear or death so it was probably an abstract notion to them; but notice how Lucifer uses the truth to deceive them. He told Eve that they would not surely die (the lie), but that they would be like God and know good and evil (the truth). They had had only good experiences with God and it was not wrong to want to be like God, there's no sin in that. But what Lucifer succeeded in doing was to plant a seed of doubt about whether they could really trust God or was He keeping something from them so that He could always be greater than they? At that point, Adam and Eve decided to eat for their own benefit; and as a result, they did know good and evil - that they had been deceived and that God had been right telling them not to eat that fruit.

That leads into the second question: Why didn't God tell them why it would kill them and what the consequences were for the billions of their descendants? Perhaps the answer here is that God wanted their trust so much that He allowed them to betray His trust in order to gain it back. More than that, God wanted their love, not just their obedience. Love and trust - those were God's motivations for creating Adam and Eve. Perhaps only by knowing evil would humans really know goodness. Only by doing it our way could we truly learn to trust God's way.

At first blush, we'd have to say that mankind failed the experiment, if that's all this life is. As far as the third question - was it worth all those souls in Hell because He chose to create that tree?...it's hard for us to reconcile the depth of love God has for every person and His desire that all be saved for a relationship with Him, with the unfathomable consequences of Satan's deceit of mankind. Do I care if Satan burns in a hotter corner of Hell than someone who never got the chance to even hear about Jesus Christ? No - for that soul is someone God loved just as surely as He loves me, or He loved David, or Abraham, or even His only Son.

I think of my older brother who passed away a couple of years ago. He knew about God, but I don't know that he knew Him enough to have a saving relationship with Him. Because I love my brother, despite all his flaws - and they were many, I don't want to think of him being tortured where Satan and truly evil people are. I don't know that Roger is separated from God for all eternity because I never truly knew his heart. But I do trust the heart of my Creator who wants me to call Him Father, who's Son wants me to consider Him as my brother, who's Spirit was given to me freely when I simply asked for Him to come live inside me and to help me learn to love and trust God more and more.

I am no better than my brother, no more deserving of salvation - but I have to believe that it was not simply a matter of fate that I chose to accept God's free gift rather than going with my own plan for my life.

I still struggle with the notion that some choose to turn down His offer of an eternal relationship; and that many more never had the chance to even learn about Jesus Christ and, as we're taught in church, now are eternally separated in a place of hopelessness and despair. Yet I go back to what I do know - that God loves me enough to come to earth to show me the way back to Him. He's met every need I've ever had; He's carried me through life's interruptions when my own strength wouldn't suffice; He's been gentle in His corrections; and He's given me so much more than I could imagine attaining on my own. Little by little I'm learning to trust Him, and as I trust Him I come to love Him more. You can't betray the love of someone you really trust; you can mess up, but you keep coming back because you know they love you and that they will forgive you and welcome you back; and there's no place you'd rather be. What was God thinking? He was thinking of me, and of you, and all who would come to love Him, because He is Love.

War on Wasps

Twice in the past few days, I've been assaulted by large wasps inside my house. I fear these two incursions into my safety zone is a prelude for a mass attack at some point in the future. I have yet to determine their point of insertion into friendly lines, thus a full-scale inspection of the perimeter is in order.

On Saturday evening, while lying in bed talking to my fiance, a large paper wasp (I ascertained its nature by gathering intel online) flew through my line of sight. Immediately, adrenaline enabled me to roll off the bed and crawl through my bedroom door, closing it behind me to trap the enemy and to escape an imminent threat of being injected with venom from its ovipositor - originally designed as a tube for the laying of eggs but reengineered to hold toxins designed for defense and to kill their prey. Twenty-four years in the Army prepared me to defend myself from this airborne assault.

With a sick daughter and a baby in the house, I knew I couldn't simply allow the infiltrator to remain until it founds its egress the same way it got in. Ruling out a broom, which was too flimsy to deliver a killing blow, I opted for a shoe. I cautiously reentered my bedroom, closing the door behind me. All the while, I'm talking to my fiance on the phone - apprising her of my situation in case reinforcements or medivac needed to be called in. Finally I spotted the wasp on the corner of my book case. I struck it with a might blow that caused books to topple over. The wasp, much larger than most I've seen and obviously on some sort of growth hormone or steroids, simply shrugs off the blow and leaps into the air, circles the blades of my ceiling fan and aligns itself on approach in retaliation for my drawing first blood. As it flies in deliberately and slowly, I knock it down in mid-air, demonstrating great hand-eye coordination for someone of my advanced years. It slams to the floor, stunned and angry. I can hear it buzzing; so I bend over and deliver six solid blows. At this point, I observe that the enemy is unable to fly, but is still mobile. As it begins to crawl in my direction, I wonder what it will take to kill this fiend. So I gather all my strength and call on God to help me. I said, "In (slap) the Name (bam) of Jesus (pow)(boom) die you @*@&#&#&*%!" My fiance is cracking up on the other end of the phone.

I sit back on the bed, sweating from exertion. The wasp moves again, though clearly broken. I shake my head, just as Apollo Creed did when Rocky Balboa wouldn't stay down after been repeatedly knocked on his keister. But although I respected the wasp's strength and tenacity, I knew that it was behooving of me to end this stand-off and protect my loved ones, and so that I could go to sleep without leaving one eye open in case this wasp had regenerative powers like David Banner. I took the point of my shoe and pressed it as hard as I could against the wasp, pinning it to the floor, and held it there until the wasp had time to suffocate. I watched until I saw another wing flicker, pounded it until the wasp's body split in two. Then I brought in the vacuum cleaner and sucked up the corpse, then removed the vacuum to the Florida room in case it was bionic like Lindsey Wagner. For only female wasps can sting.

I thought that the first attack was simply the result of a door left ajar too long, but this morning, as I was getting out of the shower, another large wasp flew within inches of my face. I leaped back into the shower, closing the door behind me, but quickly realized that I had three feet of open space above the door through which the wasp could attack. I realized that I could not be in such a confining space.

This time the wasp had caught me in a more precarious predicament. I was naked. Naturally, the first thing I did was to bend over and place a hand over my privates. I knew I could survive a sting to any other part of my body, even to my face, but a sting to my privates would probably be fatal. After all, the wasp's stinger was tiny and its target was perhaps a thousand times larger - or at least I'd like to think so.

Apparently the wasp was wary of me and kept its distance. Perhaps it was the mate of the one I'd slain in combat a few nights previously. Or it could have been the same wasp brought back from the pit of hell to finish what it started. Eventually, I was able to slide by the wasp and rush out the bathroom door, closing it behind to trap the wasp inside. This time I thought I needed the additional reach of the broom so I headed for the laundry room to retrieve one. I'd just started opening the door to the bedroom before I remembered I was naked, and wet. Grabbing a pair of shorts from a chair, I quickly put them on and got the broom. With my privates at least partially protected by cloth armor, I cautiously reentered the bathroom. The wasp was crawling around on the light fixture. I waited until it flew past me and landed on the mirror. It's a wonder it didn't crack when I struck it hard enough to turn over my shaving cream and mousse cans. The wasp, obviously as strong as its predecessor, shrugged off the blow and flew over to the window blinds to recover. At that point I decided that brute force alone wasn't going to rid me of this thing, so I opted to deploy chemical warfare in the form of TileEx Soap and Scum Remover. I followed that with some Clorox mold remover. The fumes almost made me pass out, but fortunately the wasp too was overcome and fell into the tub. I immediately turned on the hot water and grabbed the wand, drowning it for several minutes. Then I followed this with more Tilex and Clorox. I took a respite to shave, all the time watching for any sign of movement. After shaving, I used the corner of an envelope to scoop up the wasp and carry it over to the toilet where I flushed it down the toilet to make sure it was dead. For safety reasons, I closed the lid just in case it was able to find it's way back from death again. The smooth sides of the toilet would prevent it from scaling its walls. At this point, I needed another shower because I'd worked up a sweat. I also thought it couldn't hurt to flush more water down that drain and carry the demon spawn as far away from my house as possible.

It seems as though the chemical weapons are the most effective defense against this enemy. I will be stopping by supply channels, located at Wal-Mart, to obtain some wasp and hornet spray, Sevin dust, moth balls, ant and roach baits and anything else I can use to defend my family and home from invaders. If these precautions don't work, I'm going to call in the professionals; because I'm too out of shape to keep running from these darn bugs.

Time & a Legacy

Last night I attended the visitation for a friend and former National Guard soldier, Charlie David Hobgood. David was 53. Of him, his wife said that he loved his family and he loved the National Guard. Another fellow soldier remarked that David would do anything that you asked of him and never asked for anything in return. He had a weak body, but a good heart. That's a pretty good legacy to leave behind you. David was a character; he would bring to annual training a footlocker full of National Enquirers and Hustler magazines. In his laundry bag would be at least two gallons of Jack Daniels that he'd purchased with his "J, D" money. Any bill that had a J or a D in the serial number went in his pocket for his favorite drink; the rest went to his wife to pay the bills. I'll miss David.

I stood outside the Gentry-Newell Funeral Home in Oxford waiting for other old friends to show up, but they didn't. While I waited I looked across the street at the campus where I attended school from the first grade until I graduated in 1970. Also visible from the steps of the funeral home was the end of the street I'd grown up on, Forest Avenue. It was hard to beleive that a half-century ago I would ride my bike over those same cracked sidewalks on my way down-town to the Orpheum or to my dad's hardware store, Morton's Hardware. As I marveled at how fast time has passed: fifty years when I played on that street, twelve years since I'd retired from the National Guard and last seen David, twenty-seven years since I've last seen the children from my first marriage....I realized that most of my life is behind me...just not the best part.

Thinking back to my youth, I recalled my parents and how they worked hard, sacrificed for my brothers and me, and made sure that we had everything we needed growing up. We weren't one of those overly affectional families. My father worked hard six days a week and would come home and work the garden until dark; go to bed and be back at work at 6:30 the next morning. My mother kept the house, took in sewing and helped relatives put up tobacco in the summers.

If I had to sum up my parents in a couple of words, I guess I'd say that my father (Daddy) was strong and generous. I've seen him hoist two 50 lb feed bags on his shoulders and take them out to the back of a farmer's truck. I've seen him grab a hammer off the wall behind him and chase a knife-wielding robber down the street and cathch him in front of the court-house and beat the hell out of him. I was scared at the time but it's funny thinking back on it. I've also seen him write off a farmer's debt to the store when their crops didn't turn out, and I've ridden with him many times to take vegetables we grew in our garden to the homes of widows and elderly people.

My mother wasn't as outgoing as my father. Where he was witty, she was shy. Two words that would describe Mama are, devoted and cynical. Perhaps I got my own brand of sarcastic humor from the two of them. Mama complained about everything, but she wouldn't quit on people, especially her kids. I never had a birthday party growing up because Mama was too shy to invite people into the house, but many times she would squeeze a little money in my hand that she'd earned from sewing or washing other people's sheets and tell me to go see a movie. Other times I couldn't go out of the yard and if I failed to respond when she called me, a switch was waiting when I got home.

My dad earned $65 a week back then, yet we had a least one vacation every year, often two; he drove a fairly new vehicle every couple of years, and we never went hungry or without clothes for school and church. Mama said it was because Daddy tithed regularly. She also would scold us when we complained about not having something we wanted that my dad worked hard and that he could buy that scratchy, one-ply toilet paper, but instead he bought the good stuff for us - so be grateful!

Like most teenagers, I couldn't wait to grow up and get away from home, even if it meant responding to my draft notice and giving them two more years if they'd train me in military intelligence. My parents never stopped being parents however. When I came home in the early 1970s to the still segregated South with an African wife, they opened their home and let her stay with them while I sought a home at Ft. Bragg. When I was stationed in Berlin, they surprised me for my birthday by flying in. Neither had ever been on a plane, let alone crossed the ocean to another continent. Having no car, we walked or took the bus everywhere we went, pushing strollers because by then there were two children. By the time there were four, and a different wife, my parents made regular trips to Augusta, Georgia to visit us. Mama always insisted on cooking and Daddy always snuck a $50 or a $100 bill in my pocket before they left.

That's something I didn't really think about until last night looking down my old street. My parents always wanted to be part of my life, even when I'd left and started a life of my own. In their latter years both were forced by circumstance to enter nursing homes. My dad lasted six months - he was always strong. Although I would visit and bring Mama, I was never comfortable with the smell of the home or the vacant look my father's eyes had. He knew that it would be a week, maybe two before family would come see him again; and although he never was one to toss around a baseball with his son, he was fiercely proud of my service and that I was the first in the family to graduate from high school. My mother lived to be 93, her mind still as sharp and critical as when I'd grown up. She only lasted a month, and altough we visited her every night after work, I remember the fear in her eyes as we left for our homes. For both my parents, home and family were as important as church and honoring God.

Now that my youngest is a rising senior, soon to be college student and starting a life of her own, I understand why my parents wanted to remain part of our lives. Someone needs to remember those who raised us the best way they knew how. We need to remember those who put their loved ones before themselves, who sacrificed their dreams to help make their children's dreams come true. We need to have someone validate that we did make an impact on this earth when we were alive. That doesn't mean that we never mattered to God, but it's important to us that we matter to those we love.

If I could take my daughter aside and tell her something important that will leave a piece of my legacy behind, it would be to remember the moments, to live this time you have now. The things that irritate her now will seem precious to her later on. What she couldn't wait to flee from will be the place she most longs to return to. The ones who smother her now will be the ones she most wants to hold her when life gets tough. I know that I will always want to be a part of someone who has given me unspeakable joy and purpose; and wherever she goes, she takes a part of me with her. Like David, we might not have as many years as my parents enjoyed on this earth. What we do have is this moment and our memories and the legacy left us by those who walked this life with us for awhile.

God bless Daddy, God bless Mama, God bless David, God bless my little girl. God bless you.

Compensating God

This really should have been written before my "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not" post; so if you haven't read either, read this one first and it might help you understand how I got to where I am now.

The Church told us the truth that we cannot earn our way to an eternity with God; that it is by believing in Jesus Christ that we are saved. I understood that truth but still struggled with my obligations to God. Perhaps I was confused by the 'conflicting' teachings that we can't earn salvation, we're little more than slugs saved by grace, and that we owe God everything. That's all true, but it's not everything we need to understand about God's love and grace.

Several years ago I was invited to visit a local church to hear a prophet who was speaking there. Near the end of his message, this prophet pointed to me and said, "God has a word for you." I looked around, hoping he was pointing at someone behind me, but the prophet shook his head and said, "Yes, you in the blue shirt looking around - God has something to say to you." I nodded meekly, steeling myself for a possible rebuke. Lord knows, I deserved to be rebuked...I just didn't want Him to call me out publically. The prophet walked halfway down the aisle and pointed his finger at me and said, "God wants you to know that He has seen all that you have done for Him, but He also wants you to know that it doesn't mean a thing. God is not interested in your service, He wants you to get to know Him as a Father."

I'd never met or heard of this prophet before. Only a handful of people at the church knew me and I know they didn't prep this guy by telling him about what I did back in my own church. That's why I knew it was really God speaking to me through this man. Sometimes people talk through their ass and claim it's God speaking through them, but this guy was right on the money.

For two or three years, I had been a deacon in my church - not through biblical qualifications, but because I was one of the few men who showed up on a regular basis. God used a donkey in the OT, guess He could use an ass who made himself available. Not only was I an usher, but I was a greeter, the janitor, the guy who wrote, printed and folded the weekly bulletins (with some help from my Sunday School class), a Sunday School teacher, I prepared the communion elements, helped paint the church classrooms, and pretty much anything else that needed doing around the church. If the doors were open, I was there; and when they weren't, I had a key to let myself in.

You see, I had been saved back on Father's Day in 1996, and although I knew I was saved by grace, I felt like I owed God something for saving me. Now that I was saved by grace, I felt obligated to compensate God for everything He was doing for me after saving me. After all, He didn't snatch me up at confession, but left me here for a reason, so God must have wanted something from me.

The church, unwittingly, was complicit in my deception. They allowed me to do all those things. After all, if I told them that I was called by God to use my spiritual gifts in administration and helps, then who were they to deny me the right to serve God? Rather, they encouraged me, and when I couldn't perceive God's acceptance and approval of my service, I took their praise as His approval. At one point, I was cleaning the church on a weekly basis and the leadership decided they should pay me for my efforts. I took this as an affirmation that I was on the right path. It wasn't long though before some of the people who used to praise me for cleaning the church for free were complaining about how they weren't getting their money's worth. What used to be a blessing to me turned into a bitter feeling towards those people and I quickly gave up the position as custodian to someone else who needed the money. Then I wondered what I had done to displease God. I never knew if I was doing enough or doing it well enough to merit His approval.

I think it was Micah who said something like, "What can we give to the Lord? Our possessions? Our time and energy? Are those enough?" (I'm paraphrasing here because I'm too lazy to look it up.) "Well what if I gave a dozen rivers of oil; would that be enough? What if I did like Abraham and offered my first-born as compensation for my sins - would that satisfy God?" Micah understood that we can't do enough, nor does God expect us to try.

What God has always wanted is a relationship with those who are created in His image. While I was worrying about keeping Him appeased because Jesus had to suffer and die for my rebellion, God wanted me to treat Him like a Father rather than a task-master. Why is it that we're afraid to get close to Him? Are we afraid He's going to ask us for some hard sacrifice? Maybe we're afraid if we get close He's going to spank us for our sins. Why do we expect Him to be less loving as a parent than we are?

What the prophet said to me didn't change my activities immediately, but the seed was planted. It took a few months before I started letting things go. It took a church split for me to simply quit trying altogether. I don't blame the church for its complicity in my self-deception. There are people like me in every congregation who substitute activity for a personal relationship with Papa. It was the continued support and love of my pastor and his family that helped me see that God has no expectations of me. I'm free to approach Him, and free to shy away. God is gentle.

He's like a kind person who sees a stray puppy and who coaxes it to come get some food, a nice home, and loving care. The puppy, so scrawny you can count every rib, takes a tentative step forwards because it wants what the man has. But if the man makes a move towards the puppy, it shies back because it's been hurt and deceived by man before. The man, though knowing that he offers everything this poor puppy could ever need, also knows that he can't force it to come to him. Either the puppy allows his need to overcome caution, or the puppy chooses to risk the unknown and misses out on something it really wants.

When I truly understood that God's motivation isn't to make my life miserable by demanding everything from me, and that He actually delights in me, then I was able to stop trying to please Him and learn to love Him; and by loving Him I'm able to accomplish more than I ever could trying to compensate Him for all of His grace and mercies in my life. Like the father in the story of the Prodigal Son, God has never loved me less - even when I've taken advantage of Him. His love has been constant and His desire has been for me to know His love and to love Him in return.

Nights In Rodanthe

One of my favorite writers, Nicholas Sparks, has another movie coming from one of his novels: Check it out here. http://nightsinrodanthe.warnerbros.com/

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not....

I grew up in the Church. Some of my earliest memories were of tent revivals where a sweating preacher would yell and scream hellfire and damnation. People clapped and shouted "Amen!" amid a flurry of paper fans, provided to them by the local funeral homes. But even though I don't recall any specific sermons growing up, I do remember that there was a lot of emphasis on keeping the Ten Commandments and warning us to avoid those who broke the Law.

In recent years there has been more teachings on grace and mercy, but for the most part when you turn on a TV, you're still assaulted by a God of holy justice; the same God who committed ethnic cleansing in the Old Testament and Who rained down fire and brimstone on Sodom and Gomorrah and Who threatened humans with the fires of Hell if we didn't love this fierce, righteous, unbending, and quick to condemn us, God.

Then we read the New Testament and see a different God, a God of love, peace, mercy and grace. We're left wondering what happened to God between Malachi and Matthew? Did God repent of His ways and get saved? How do we resolve the conflicting Gods of the Old and the New Testaments? If God is truly schizophrenic, which of Him do I wake up to each morning? It's kind of like a child plucking the petals off a daisy while repeating, "He loves me; He loves me not; He loves me; He loves me not.

I got a raise at work: He loves me.
I failed to pay my tithes: He loves me not.
I met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with: He loves me.
The doctors have given up on chemo and radiation to fight my daughter's cancer: He loves me not.

I spend most of the day wondering whether I'm in God's good graces, or whether I'm a breath away from waking up in Hell. With this concept of God, I'm more like the slovenly steward who hid the talent the Master gave him in fear of losing even that and displeasing the Master. If the only reason I’m even responding to Him is to serve my own self-interest and escape Hell, am I really loving Him or myself?

Having grown up with that kind of theology, it's no wonder that churches are still preaching judgment over love. We're told that God judged America on 9/11, or that He judged New Orleans with Hurricane Katrina. I think that most Christians are like me, having learned in churches that focused more on obeying God than on loving Him. Most of us, truth be told, turned to God out of a fear of Hell than out of love for Him. I mean, how can you love someone you can't trust? How can you trust a God who demands that you love Him while dangling you over a fiery pit, and threatens to drop you unless you say what He wants you to say? Didn't Jesus Himself say that the greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, your soul and all your strength? It seems the church's response has been that the fear of God is equivalent to loving Him.

It’s no wonder that Christians are turning so many away from God at a time when the world needs Him more than ever. They don’t want one more drop of God’s life other than the minimum required to escape Hell. How do we reconcile that God with Jesus who loved us enough to heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons, and forgive murderers, thieves and prostitutes?

Wayne Jacobsen observes that, “We live in a day when millions have made a commitment to Christ and yet so few lives are really transformed by His power. It has been said of this generation that our Christianity is a mile wide but only an inch deep. People claim to know God but show no transformation in their daily lives. We challenge them as hypocrites and attempt to badger them into more righteous lifestyles, but in the end most believers end up as much a part of the world’s ways as their nonbelieving neighbors.”

Recently I picked up a book that's opened my eyes to God's love. I've mentioned it on another post here: "The Shack" by William P Young. If you go to the author's blog, you'll see testimony after testimony about how this book has positively impacted people's lives. It has done the same with me. I now have an inkling of understanding this Father that Jesus presented in the Gospels.

In The Shack, Mack suggests to Sarayu (the Holy Spirit) that he has tried to keep the Law and lead as good a life as possible. Sarayu’s response was, “How’s that working for you?”

I think now that I have a better grasp on how God can love me in spite of my sins and failures. Before Jesus came, we could only see God’s actions and assume He was moved by motivations similar to our own. Jesus presented God as a loving Father, One who is willing to allow His children to sin in order to show them how destructive sin can be. Jesus’ message was not to come to God or you’ll burn in Hell; His message was that God’s kingdom has come near and you can become a participant in it.

Jacobsen goes on to say, “He allows us the consequences of sin, not because He delights in our anguish, but so we can see its devastating effect and run to the only one in the universe who can set us free from them. His wrath against sin was not His rejection of us in anger, but only a reflection of the depth of love that cannot look away unconcerned as sin destroys us. There is no one that God does not love with all that He is. His love reaches beyond every sin and failure, hoping that at some moment they will come to know just how loved they are.”

So here I am, on the cusp of a new revelation of God. Finally understanding that God is not conflicted, but that He has always wanted a personal relationship with me based on love and trust; I feel that it is time to cast off the old cloak of shame and put on this new cloak of belonging to God. Rather than ask you to counsel and save me from some new false doctrine, I ask you to do what Sarayu did when you see me revert to my old religious ways: Say, “How’s that working for you?” With the new life-partner God brought into my life (my fianc'e, Pamela), I look forward to the future and our journey in loving God more.