Our Common Struggle

"So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh.  For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.  For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.  For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba!  Father!"  The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs -- heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him."  (Romans 8:12-17 ESV)

I find myself continuing to struggle to become more like Christ.  In my most honest moments, I admit that I am, in my deepest self, selfish and proud.  I want my way.  Life my way.  Others to be, act and live how I wish.  Circumstances to suit me.  My dreams to come true.  My vision of the ideal to become reality.  Me, my, mine -- it's all about me!

How ugly it is to read over that.  Uglier to admit how true it is.  It's our fundamental human state -- our natural human state, that is.

Thanks be to God that he rescues us from that!  Not in one instant.  Not completely.  But he does move us out from ourselves and toward him and then toward others.  Through the presence of his Holy Spirit, God nudges and cajoles us.  He squeezes and bends us, stretches and squashes us through the circumstances and experiences of our daily lives to make us less like ourselves and more like Christ.

Our transformation, like most transformations of any kind, is achieved through painful and difficult experiences.  Like the birth of a baby, we must endure some trauma and challenge before emerging on the other side in the likeness of our creator.

The older I get the more I wonder about my transformation into the likeness of Christ.  I seem to become more aware of how unlike him I am and I struggle to see that I am making progress.  Sometimes I backslide.  Praise God, he is patient and merciful towards me.  He does not often visit upon me the consequences I deserve.  And, so, I struggle on.  It is a gritty, embarrassing, but determined struggle.  Because God loves me, I strive to please him.  Though I often come up short, I want to love him more and better, to please him and make him proud of me: a stubborn, selfish, prideful adopted son.

Father, (thank you for making me your child) I know I am unworthy of your care much less your love.  I disappoint you so often and in so many ways.  I test your patience by my willfulness and your mercy by my defiance.  Please continue to forgive me and be patient with me.  Continue to believe in me.  Keep your faith in me as I depend on my faith in you -- that you love me and that you always will.

You are mine.  I am yours.  Thank you.

Amen.

Grace: No Greater Love

In his book, The Grace Awakening, Charles Swindoll describes biblical grace as being like the man who, instead of pursuing vengence against his young son's murderer or even of insisting on lawful justice, pleads for the murderer's pardon, completely forgives him, takes him into his own home and adopts him as his own son.

Crazy? It certainly seems so to us. But isn't Dr. Swindoll correct?

Consider the example of King David. Saul did everything in his power to prevent David from succeeding him on the throne. He repeatedly tried to kill David. Despite David's uncompromising loyalty and his uncommon love for Saul's son, Jonathan, Saul sought to destroy his most successful soldier, most selfless servant, and most submissive subject. Following Saul's death and that of his three sons, David became king. Saul's relatives fled in fear of their lives. Jonathon's son, Mephibosheth, a babe crippled by a fall as his nurse stole him away in panic, lived for years in self-imposed obscurity, every day fearful of discovery.

David did learn of and find Mephibosheth. He had Mephibosheth brought before him and Mephibosheth trembled in fear. Laying prostrate before the king, the crippled and broken Mephibosheth resigned himself to his unavoidable fate.

David ordered that all of Saul's former property be given to Mephibosheth. And he invited Mephibosheth to dine with him in the palace as his honored guest as often as possible.

What had Mephibosheth done to deserve this? Nothing. What could he do to repay the king for his kindness and generosity? Nothing. What did Mephibosheth have to do to keep the king's favor? Nothing.

David didn't do what he did for Mephibosheth's sake. He did it for Jonathon's sake...the one he loved and who's love was better than that of a wife.

Had the child's murderer done anything to merit the father's forgiveness, much less his love and adoption? No way! But that's what grace is...unmerited favor. It can't be earned. It's not deserved. It's not at all fair. It is beyond fair...crazy beyond!

It's what every Christian has received from God...not for our sakes, but for the sake of Jesus who loved us so much that he died in our place to pay the price for our sins so that we may be adopted as sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters to Jesus. "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I was was lost, but now am found; was blind but now I see."

I often remind myself of my need to forgive others because of the forgiveness I've received from God. As difficult as that sometimes is, God's spirit within me, tells me it is the proper and godly response. Even more difficult for me, however, is to accept that beyond forgiveness, I should give others grace...unmerited favor, acceptance and love...regardless of what they may have done, regardless whether I think they'll appreciate it or not; regardless whether I believe it will have any transformative effect in their lives or not. It's not for me to pursue spiritual justice against others. It's not for me to judge others at all. God calls me only to love others -- even as much as I love myself. And the greatest expression of love I can give another is to extend God's grace. As crazy as it may seem. No matter how stupid I may look in the eyes of others, even in the eyes of my recipient. It is what God has done for me. If I am to be like him, faithful and obedient to him, it is what I must do for others.

Imagine what our lives would be like were we to extend to one another true grace. What would our families and churches and friendships be like? How would be our witness the world...to non-Christian relatives, friends, co-workers and church members?

Lord, help us to extend to others the grace you extend to us. Help us to love others as you love us. Show us how and when we can give grace to others and give us enough love and gratitude to you to obediently act in your will. Grow us into your image, and to you be all the glory, honor and praise. Amen.

My Kingdom for a Church!

The kids and I have been looking for a new church for some months now. The one we had been attending (for two years) was very large and the kids never wanted to participate in programs or activities. Alternating weekly between there and their mom's church didn't help. Basically, it was the size of the congregation that put off the older kids, particularly.



Of course, there's also the issue of that church believing that homosexuality is a chosen sin. That prevented Josh from worshiping with us...all of us as a family.



So I searched for churches and denominations in our community that don't believe being gay is such a big deal. There are a lot of churches in our town. There are few that do not condemn gays.



There was the non-denominational, spiritual journey church where worshippers are encouraged to seek oneness with the divine and where the associate pastor prayed to "the gods." My thirteen year old son went with me on that visit. He voiced my sentiments when we left more politely than I probably would have, simply saying, "That was interesting."



We can't go to the "gay" church because...well...it's the "gay" church. It wears its gayness on the choir robe stoles, on banners behind the pulpit, and in the content of most sermons producing, in my experience, services more about the gay congregants than about God or the gospel of Jesus. Because it is so "gay in your face," were we to take the kids, they would unquestionably freak out.



Baptist, of course, is out. As is Methodist and the local Lutheran, Presbyterian and Brethren churches. The non-denominational church that meets in the local movie theatre is extreme contemporary and about rocked my kids out of their deep, soft stadium seats. We're not Catholic, so no help there. The Episcopal church is gay friendly, but "high" church has not been part of our experience and we're hesitant about that.



I did find the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church) on line and learned that many of its congregations are gay friendly. One is close to home, so we've been visiting there for a few months. Josh and I decided that the kids and I would visit first and get a feel for the place and then, if it seemed friendly, he would join us.



We have several friends who go there, it turns out. A couple who know about us, and a couple who do not. Everyone has been more than gracious and welcoming to the kids and me. People adore the picture of a single dad getting multiple children up and out for church faithfully -- and such well behaved children, too! I know though one of our friends, that the pastor believes homosexuality is a sin. I've wanted to talk to him and just ask him up front whether the church would welcome us as active members. We scheduled a lunch and had to cancel due to a snowstorm. We've not rescheduled yet.



It's an amazingly complicated thing finding a church home as a gay Christian. Especially as one who does not want to be deceptive about his sexuality. I've been told I'm not a Christian because I'm gay. The rationale was that were I truly saved, I would not be living in a pattern and persistent state of sin. The same person who explained this to me saw no inconsistency in his conviction that other persistent sins did not prevent one from receiving God's gift of salvation.

Somewhere, in the Church's zeal to uphold moral values, it's become legalistic, adding rules and conditions and conduct-based standards to the simple gospel of faith...the gospel that frees us from bondage to sin to what? Bondage to rules and restrictions; to other's expectations and demands? To "good Christian" values and norms that exclude anyone who refuses to comply? If so, then why accept Christ's offer of freedom? Why exchange one bondage for another?

Oh, that the Church would welcome all those who sincerely seek to worship our creator, savior and Lord, Jesus Christ! Oh, that it would not exclude those Christ does not exclude and that it would welcome all who seek Him to find Him in their midst, in their hearts and in their arms!

All we want to do is worship and serve with our brothers and sisters in Christ. All we seek is a church family where we can be received as believers, not as gay or straight, liberal or conservative, fundamentalist or whatever. Just as fellow believers saved by grace and doing the best we can to love and follow Jesus the best we know how.

My kingdom for such a church!

I Wonder

As Christians, we strive to live up to the example of Jesus. He's our model. Our standard.

We never do, of course -- meet the standard. We fall short. And whether some of us arguably come up shorter than others doesn't matter. We're all sinners and only saved by grace, not by works lest any of us should boast.

As our existence is all about relationships -- ours with God, ours with one another. Relationships is one of the greatest areas of difficulty and of shortcoming in our lives.

We're all guilty. We all fail in relationships from time to time. Thankfully, most of us have relationships that can and do survive failure. They endure hurts. Sometimes, our relationships grow stronger despite failures and hurts.

When I'm alone in the quiet, I wonder how Jesus would relate to me were he with my physically. I wonder how he would treat me. Would he condemn me? Would he be embarrassed that I call myself by his name? Would he deny me? Would he be kind to me? Would he show me love and extend to me fellowship regardless what others may say?

The Bible tells us how Jesus treated the outcasts of his day. The tax collectors, the adulterers, the poor and the diseased. It also tells us how he treated the proud and the self-righteous, the judgmental and the oppressive.

Can we treat one another as Jesus treated others? Is it possible for us through His spirit that is in us?

Jesus told us to follow his example. Would he tell us to do that if it were impossible?

A big difference I find in myself and Jesus is the way in which we attempt to influence others to change. All too often I try by telling someone how they are wrong, destructive or deficient. Sometimes I become passive-aggressive. Occasionally I wait until I can take no more and then I explode in righteous indignation.

I've watched others try guilt or shame to influence someone to change. Perhaps even worse is when we turn our backs on someone until and unless they change...we disassociate with them, perhaps even encourage others to do the same.

Jesus didn't do any of that, did he? He showed people unconditional love and respect. The only people he was harsh with and did not treat with respect were those who not only denied him, but opposed him and did so in the name of God his father. When he confronted those whom the community condemned a "sinner" he reached out to them in fellowship. He ate with tax collectors. He allowed a sinful woman to wash his feet. He welcomed known "sinners" to travel with him and minister to his physical needs. His example was more about caring for the person than about their actions...particularly those in their past! He focused on the heart and not the deeds. Jesus modeled to us that the way to reach people and to influence them to turn their hearts to God is to love and respect them.

His first words to Zacchaeus: "Zacchaeus, come down at once. I must stay at your house today." (Luke 19:5, NRLV) Not "Sinner, repent and be baptised!"

His words to the adulterous woman caught in the act and brought to him for judgement: "Hasn't anyone found you guilty?...Then I don't find you guilty either....Go now and leave your life of sin." (John 7: 10,11) Not "You've sinned and you're going to hell unless you repent."

To the woman at the well who'd had five husbands and was living with a man out of marriage, Jesus violated multiple religious and cultural taboos and spoke to her in public. He engaged her as someone worthy and revealed the saving truth of his identity to her. He did not condemn her or lecture her. He showed her what she needed to accept, not what she needed to reject.

Don't misunderstand. Jesus' will for all of these people was that they live lives honoring and obedient to God. He wanted them to seek him with all of their hearts, without reservation, without condition. But he knew (and he left a lesson for us) that we are created to be loved and respected...in the image of God whom, above all else, we were created to love and respect. Jesus worked to reach hearts first and minds second. We (I) tend to reverse that order. And usually with predictable results.

So, can we follow Jesus' example and reach out to "sinners" and outcasts? Can we associate with them in public and focus on their hearts rather than their reputations, social status or how we think doing so will affect opinions of ourselves? Are we willing to invest ourselves, our time and our energy to learn and connect with people's hearts before we try to change their minds or their behaviors? Will we see people as unique, priceless creations of the same God who created us and whom he loves as much as us, rather than label them as part of some group and stereotype them accordingly?

I have to believe that Jesus wants us to. And I'm convinced he's ready and willing -- and eager -- to help us.

Do we even want him to? Will we ask him to? Will we allow him to?

I wonder.

Defining this Blog

What's this log about? What are its goals? Who is the intended audience(s)? You tell me. I don't know.

I started writing because I like to. It's helpful to me. Cathartic.

But I don't want this blog to be about me. If it's helpful to me, great. But I want it serve a purpose for someone else.

So who?

I asked Josh for his comments and suggestions on things I write. So far he's not given many. When I pressed him about some specific things I'd written, he suggested that I 1) not write anything I wouldn't want my kids to read. After all, once something's on the Net, it's taken a life of its own and one cannot know who will see it or when. Good advice. Thanks, Josh.

He also suggested that I, perhaps, just write what I want at this point and see what direction things take and how the blog evolves; perhaps comments from readers (if I ever have any) will influence my direction. More good advice.

So, for now, I think I will just write about whatever I wish. Except that I do want this blog to serve one primary purpose: should the postings here ever be read by my children, I want them to find wisdom for prosperous living. Not just economic prosperity, but spiritual, emotional, relational...the whole human experience spectrum.

Pretty ambitious, I know. But I don't always communicate effectively with my kids orally. On balance, I'm better conveying my thoughts in writing. So I want this blog to represent a legacy that I can leave my kids. A collection of important things I want to share with them and teach them. An expression of my love for them and my blessing to them.

So, there you are.

Now it will be interesting to see how (or if) I accomplish my goal.

The Proximity Effect

A co-worker has recently gotten involved in local politics. It is one way she decided to re-engage in life and the lives of others after years of virtual hermithood. She's been all excited about it -- meeting new people, working for a cause, adding to her own sense of purpose and value. After only a few weeks, she confessed that, up close, politics is very different from how it appears from a distance. "Dirty," she said as she grimaced and gestured as if discarding a five-day-old soiled diaper into a wastebasket.



The other morning I was driving to pick my kids up to take them to school. I was running on the cusp of being late and, wouldn't you know it, I came upon an elderly lady in a Pontiac going 35 to 40 miles per hour down a road posted 45 mph and over which traffic usually flows 55 mph. I found myself emitting the negative waves toward her. I complained to the others in my head about how annoying elderly drivers are, how it was inconsiderate and more than irritating that she would bring her slow self out on the road in the middle of the morning commute.



Suddenly, I caught a certain glance, and the lady reminded me of someone else: an elderly lady from a former church whom I love very much.



Shame rushed over me. I realized that, were the driver my friend, I would not have fretted in the least. Instead, I would have had felt compassion and extended understanding. I would have been thrilled to see my friend out and about and still independent.



Simply because I didn't know the lady in front of me, I was impatient and filled with anger and even animosity.


These two episodes illustrated for me the powerful influence of proximity. How close or how far we are from another person, a given situation or an issue typically plays a major role in our response to that person, situation or issue.


The more I live, the more I realize how biased, emotional and otherwise colored our perspectives are on most everything we view. We don't look through eyes that illuminate and clarify; we see through all the variety of filters accumulated in our very personal and unique experience.


We like to think that we're objective and rational and reasoned and fair-minded. But I wonder: can we be?

Are we made capable of such qualities...truly, in reality? Or are we designed to respond based on experience...using history to inform and shape, sometimes dramatically influence, our perception of today and even tomorrow?

One thing I know is that the closer we are to something, the greater our sympathy and the greater our concern and even love. My theory is that this is a function of God's design. He's made us to want to know more than we do; to have more than we do; to experience more than we do. He wants relationship with us. And not just any relationship, but the closest of all relationships. He wants to be our Number One as we are his Number One creation. The Bible says he wants to have fellowship with us...continually.



Fortunately, God does not treat us the way we treat one another. He loves each of us. Not only that, he loves us perfectly. Not according to what we do, but simply because we are. We are his and he loves us for that reason alone.

I, for one, am so thankful for God's unconditional, never failing, ever constant love. It gives me security, assurance and comfort in an insecure, uncertain and painful world.


To love others, not because of what they do, but simply because they are: that is the standard for us to shoot for. Jesus said that is the greatest commandment: to love God with all our hearts, minds and souls, and to love others as much as we love ourselves (Matthew 22:37-39). He didn't include any conditions or limitations. He didn't say, as long as God blesses you or protects you from trouble. He didn't say, as long as your friends go along with what you want, or your spouse makes you feel loved and respected, or the lady driving in front of you goes fast enough.


Our calling is to love as God loves us. To love everyone that way. People we're close to as well as the stranger we've never met. People with whom we identify and feel comfortable, and those who repulse us, confound us, fill us with anxiety and unease. I've become convinced that we can only love God as well as we love others -- all others. I believe that's what the Bible means when it says the one who claims to love God but hates another is a liar (I John 4:20).


So what am I? I say I love God. Am I a liar? How well do I love him? All I have to do to answer that question is to examine how well I love others. All others.


It's a tough calling. It's part of what makes God God and us not.

Thank you, Father, for loving us so much better than we love others. Help us to love as you love. Amen.

Funny the Parallels

Driving across the southwest looking for a campground late one evening, we passed a billboard advertising a strip tease club.

"Elliot, would you like to go see a strip tease?", Mom asked me.

"Yeah! Yeah!", I replied excitedly.

I was 9 or 10 years old. Had no idea what Mom was talking about. But being an adventurous boy and having lay in the back of a Ford Torino station wagon for the better part of 10 hours, I was eager to do something -- anything -- else.

Mom, Dad and my sisters laughed uproariously. I was clueless.

Turns out, I was that way for years and years.

On that same trip (the same evening on the same drive, if I remember correctly), Mom asked us kids what our favorite song was. I said, honestly, "Amazing Grace."

I liked the tune of that hymn. And, given the environment in which I was raised, I had been exposed to no songs as much as traditional Christian hymns.

More of the reason for my choice, however, were the words of the song. I very much liked the idea of being saved. And of being found, not lost. (A recurring childhood nightmare of mine was being lost or left alone.) I liked being able to see. And I liked the assurance of the song; the promise that God was with me, would always give me comfort and, one day, would take me to heaven.

Even at a young age, I understood such things and of my need of saving. I knew that God's love for me and the mercy and grace he showed me, truly, were amazing. And I loved to sing the song that, in my opinion, best told about it.

As easy as it was for me to recognize that I had spiritually been lost and found, blind but now see, I was clueless about my sexual orientation.

Not until I had left home, married and had kids did I finally come to a point where I could no longer deny that I am gay. More profoundly, it was only after so much living that I could finally admit that I am gay.

I've been told I have the worst timing. Opening my eyes to the fact that I'm gay only after getting so deep into the heterosexual lifestyle...well, to say that I have bad timing is an understatement, is an understatement.

Looking back, my ignorance, stupidity, unfathomable denial -- however you want to describe it -- is bewildering. I look at pictures of me as a college student and ask incredulously, "How could I not SEE that I was gay?!!!!" Why did I think that my desires were just part of normal curiosity or the product of childhood experiences introduced by an older boy?

My mind was closed. Shut tight against the sin and perversion of homosexuality. It wasn't an option. I was normal. I was a Christian. People had expectations of me. I had expectations of myself. "Gay" was not an option. "Gay" did not exist in my world. "Gay" had no more to do with me than did Hare Krishnas, the Grateful Dead or Matt, my college crush.

Besides, I liked girls. I was attracted to them. They "turned me on." I fantasized about them. Even made out with a few. I wasn't gay. No way. No how. No question.

Well, long story short, as the song says:

I once was lost, but now am found -- was blind, but now I see.

I don't fully understand it. I'm still figuring it out. But as the hymn writer was found and given sight, saved and living in the promise of being led to the safety and security of home, so, too, did I finally find myself. I opened my eyes to who I am, to who I've always been. I see now how blind I was. And it's all by God's grace. He has made me whole. He has removed my fear, my guilt and shame. And I know he will lead me home. I know he's preparing a place for me for eternity.

"Amazing Grace" remains one of my favorite songs. I love it for its spiritual truths. And, now, I also love it for the way it affirms the truth of my life experience. I sing it in my heart more fully and more joyfully than ever. No longer just a favorite song, "Amazing Grace" is my song. The song of my salvation. The song of my identity. The song of the assurance that is my hope for tomorrow.

Perfect is God's providence in our lives. An old cherished hymn and a new cherished life: funny the parallels.