city fellowship church: a ‘family of families’

This post has been a long time coming.

I love the church called City Fellowship Baptist Church that meets at 455 East Main Street in Jackson, Tennessee.

And I don’t say all that to make a plug – I am making a point.

I am thankful to be a part of a local church that realizes that churches are not buildings, they are families of families.

City Fellowship is a family of men, women, and children of every color, culture, and income who hold in common a shared place in the household of God – having been adopted into God’s family through Jesus Christ’s death on the cross.

I am thankful for the way that the family of our church has cared and loved on us in the midst of Abbey’s birth and thyroid problems, Beth’s father’s heart attack, and Lee’s rollover in the Jeep.

I am thankful that the love that we have received in abundance is the same love we have seen extended to the homeless, jobless, and hungry of Jackson.

I am thankful that there is no difference – be it in quality, urgency, or persistence – between the love that the church family has shown to my family and the love that the church family has shown a man like Robert – a man who walked off the street an into the middle of our Bible study, abandoned by his family, scared of the dark, and incapable of coherent sustained conversation (probably due to mental illness).

It is by the grace of God that we have been a part of a people like City Fellowship Church, a people in whom God is shaping into a family of families, a people who eagerly embrace the command of God to “show no partiality as you hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory” (James 2:1).

May City Fellowship Church always be a place that testifies to the gospel by loving all peoples without partiality, until Christ returns or takes us home.

. . . . . .

What do you love about your church?

How does your church testify to the gospel in the way you function as a family of families?

In the way the church loves the surrounding community?

In the way they love the nations?

. . . . . . .

Note:

I am aware that ‘Family of families’ is a term that has been popularized by Voddie Baucham.

In using this phrase, I am not attempting to piggy back off of anything that he has said . . . in fact, I have no idea what he has said about the term because I have not read his book.

If you are inclined to import his meaning into what I have said above, it will not translate.  Simply take the words at their most common meaning and proceed accordingly.

Thanks to those who encouraged me to clarify my use of ‘family of families’.

death by love: bloody new covenant

I had a choice – go back to where I left off my blogging about ‘Death by Love‘ by Mark Driscoll, or pick up where I am reading right now.

The idea of going back and reviewing the first couple of chapters felt stale to me (that’s my fault, not the book’s), so I decided to begin with what has me most fired up.

. . . . . . .

Before I even get to the book, I am internally compelled to highlight the incredible artist behind the images in this book.

Raw, stark, and beautiful, the charcoal images complement the contents of the book in a way that is agonizingly beautiful.

While reviewing Christopher Koelle’s website, I encountered an illustration from John Piper’s poem ‘Job’ that is simply stunning.

I wanted to start with that image.  Look at it for a while.  Think about it.

Art can enhance our appreciation of God’s work on our behalf, stirring us to heartfelt & heartbroken worship of the magisterial mercy of God.

This is one of those images:

© 2009 Christopher Koelle

(Please check out Christopher Koelle’s other work – and feel free to purchase his artwork)

. . . . . . .

On second thought, I am going to leave it at that for the moment.

I don’t need to change the title to the post or even drop the references to ‘Death by Love‘ – these things all fit together perfectly.

As you will see. Soon enough.

. . . . . . . .

What do you think of the incorporation of art into the Church’s worship of God?

It’s, obviously, a highly controversial subject – have you seen it done well? Not so well?

I’m eager for your answers.

. . . . . . . .

nyt on driscoll: the paragraph i am supposed to quote

If you have yet to read the New York Times’ article (‘Who Would Jesus Smack Down?‘) on Mark Driscoll, my guess is that you are too busy, you don’t pay that close of attention to the buzz in Christian-world, or you just plain don’t want to.

Fine by me – I respect all of those things.

I didn’t get around to reading it until today myself.

Here is the part of this blog where I am supposed to quote something from the article – and here is the passage that I am supposed to quote for you:

Conservatives call Driscoll “the cussing pastor” and wish that he’d trade in his fashionably distressed jeans and taste for indie rock for a suit and tie and placid choral arrangements. Liberals wince at his hellfire theology and insistence that women submit to their husbands. But what is new about Driscoll is that he has resurrected a particular strain of fire and brimstone, one that most Americans assume died out with the Puritans: Calvinism, a theology that makes Pat Robertson seem warm and fuzzy.

I think I read this block quote three or four times before I actually got around to reading the article itself – why, you ask? Because it really irritates me that this paragraph was written, to begin with.

I may be assuming too much, but I suspect that the writer of the article, Molly Worthen, is not as ignorant as this paragraph makes her seem.

It seems blatantly obvious to me that this paragraph was written, not in ignorance . . . or with the intention of helping the reader to gain perspective on where Driscoll falls in the spectrum of evangelicalism, but to be inflammatory and provoke a reaction out of the readers.

I think this quote is a brilliant piece of marketing – and a miserable piece of journalism.

It succeeds at ticking everybody off:

• Calvinists get fired up because they don’t like Pat Robertson.
• Viewers of the 700 Club are peeved, having mentioned in the same breath as Calvinists.
• Fans of Driscoll bristle (probably) from the Don Miller “cussing pastor” reference.
• Traditional evangelicals are suddenly distressed over the idea of a pastor in jeans, listening to indie (“I don’t know what that means, but I don’t like it”) music, and saying a bad word.
• Liberals did wince over “hellfire” and over pretty much any word beginning with the letters S-U-B.
• Instantly, reading the word “Puritan” stirred up visions of burning books, witches, and contraceptives in the minds of anybody who took public high school history.

It fails to actually communicate information that is accurate or informative.

It gets the bloggers churning and posting and ranting and raving and slobbering with excitement at the opportunity to enter into a fresh wave of comment wars.

That said, you win Molly Worthen, you succeeded in getting me to post the quote that I am certain you wanted at the top of every rant and review of your article.

But just so we’re clear – I know, and you know; and you know that I know; and we know (if we didn’t know already); so can we just be satisfied to write a good article, call it a day, and let the truth speak for itself?

. . . . . . .

That said: Once you get into the body of the text, it is actually a pretty good article, a solid exploration/wrestling with a (relatively) new phenomenon in evangelicalism that is understandably baffling and foolish to the broader culture.

Forthcoming: I was reminded that I have done absolutely nothing to follow up with my earlier promise to tantalize you with thoughts, snippets, and/or responses to chapters from Driscoll’s book Death by Love (click the link, buy the book, tell me if you agree with me).

jim elliot: death speaking louder than life

My thanks to Fred Sanders at Scriptorium Daily for his article ‘Today Jim Elliot Was Killed (1956)‘.

Our friends Logan and Amber have a knack for giving their kiddos great names, and their youngest, Calvin Elliot, is named “Calvin after the theologian John Calvin and Elliott, after Jim Elliot, a missionary who was martyred while trying to take the gospel to the Auca Indians in South America.”

Good call Logan and Amber.

Beth and I just got to meet the little guy for the first time over Christmas break, and when I read Sanders’ “Today Jim Elliot Was Killed” I had no choice but to pray that little Calvin Elliot would have the Lord’s favor in the same way his name sake did.

The following is a bit of what Sanders has to say:

Jim Elliot and his widow Elisabeth were unusually articulate. They had words on the tips of their tongues and were able to give a compelling account of why they were doing what they were doing.

Start with Jim Elliot’s most famous statement, written in his journal in 1949: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.”
It explained, in advance, how Elliot had thought through the relative value of the most important things in life. The sentence sprang from Bible study (Luke 16:9), was honed by personal meditation, and aimed at obedience. It’s one small example of how Elliot had words ready to explain his actions.

And that one saying is not all; his diaries are filled with passages which would do just as well to sum up his service:

One treasure, a single eye, and a sole master.

God, I pray Thee, light these idle sticks of my life and may I burn for Thee. Consume my life, my God, for it is Thine. I seek not a long life, but a full one, like you, Lord Jesus.

Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is often short-lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul? Short life? In me there dwells the spirit of the Great Short-Lived, whose zeal for God’s house consumed Him. ‘Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.’

As your life is in His hands, so are the days of your life. But don’t let the sands of time get into the eye of your vision to reach those who sit in darkness. They simply must hear.

I must not think it strange if God takes in youth those whom I would have kept on earth till they were older. God is peopling Eternity, and I must not restrict Him to old men and women.

The will of God is always a bigger thing than we bargain for.

Jim Elliot knew what he was about, and knew how to explain it. That’s what sets him apart as a martyr: He testified so well. Remember that the greek word martyr originally meant “somebody who testifies.” What caused its meaning to change into “somebody who dies for a cause?” The word took on that new meaning when the early church, under persecution, brought forth a large number of people who were so good at standing for what they believed in that their message became clear to the whole ancient world: they testified themselves to death; they witnessed mortally; they underwent death by testimony, and their testimony was heard.

Thank God for Jim Elliot.

I hope that little Calvin Elliot, as well as every person who identifies themselves by the name of Christ, knows what he is about and knows how to explain it.

I hope we all have the faith of a Jim Elliot, who understood that the News about Jesus is worth both living and laying down our lives for.

Thanks for continuing the legacy Logan and Amber, for giving your baby boy a name that reminds him daily of the God who is worth laying it all down for.

Links: Be sure to go read the rest of ‘Today Jim Elliot Was Killed‘

Go give Logan, Amber , Eli, and Calvin some  love at the Gentrified Blog.

. . . . . . .

Are there any people who you have never met, never personally known, who have so profoundly shaped you that you would name your child after them?

taboo: a national geographic series

I love compelling television.

I love shows that attempt to peel back the edges of complicated world and help us to see the world.  

We are prone to think that the world, as it really is, and the world, as we have experienced it, are the same thing.  But, even in our increasingly global world, we walk through life with blinders, unable to see so much of the reality of the world around us.

In the past, I have written about Current_TV.  Someday I may write about Last One Standing, one of my favorite reality television shows of all time.  

Today, I came across a show on National Geographic Television: Taboo.

I am in the middle of watching the hour long show for the first time, the topic of this particular episode – ‘Gender Bending’.

The fine folks over at National Geographic have decided that it is time to peel back the edges of the Western worldview, marked by its unfortunate allegiances to a Christian God who became a man, Jesus Christ.

Taboo has journeyed to India, Southeast Asia, and Albania, to introduce the viewer to people and places who have rejected the “rigid gender definitions” that are so deeply entrenched in Western culture.  The stories of these people are absolutely fascinating, and the reveal a great deal about the cultural reality of people around this world.

In India, we are introduced to the hijra (click for wiki link), men who have surgically removed their sexual organs and chosen to live their lives as women.  A group of people who make and annual journey to marry their God, only to symbolically mourn their God’s death and become widows the next day.  The story of the hijra, the five gender system, and gender-bending senior women in Algeria are really interesting, truly fascinating studies of how people have chosen to define masculinity and femininity apart from biological sex.

All the more fascinating is the light that Taboo shines on our own culture.

The writers and producers of Taboo have a clear agenda in exposing an American audience to these gender bending peoples, they explicitly argue that gender is an invention of our culture, a cultural construct.  In the West, our idea of gender is tied to our broad allegiance to Christian theism (the default, gut reaction to the word “God” is, generally speaking, the God of the Bible).

To the folks over at National Geographic, the purpose of peeling back the edges of the American understanding of the world is really to pull back the blindfold that keeps us from seeing our own culture properly.  

Why do we think in a rigid two gender system? Because we have a rigid understanding of God revealing himself as a man – we have blinders on.  If only we could see our own narrow view of the world, we would realize how desperately we need to grow, adapt, and mature.

We would see that it is time to reject our taboos and become accepting of a greater diversity of gender identity.  Until that day, National Geographic reassures us that ”there will always be people who will reject the two gender system – and remain … taboo”.

Wait. There’s a problem.  

National Geographic makes a really dangerous assumption in trying to unveil the eyes of Americans who have been blinded by their own preconceived cultural notions.  They make a number of assumptions, in fact, but there is one that stands out as more egregious than the others.

They assume they can see.

What arrogance!

But wait, here I am pointing my little finger – what hypocrisy! Is there a massive log jam in my eye that is making me blind? Am I thumbing their speck and overlooking my plank?  No.  Because I don’t make the same assumption that they make.

Here’s my assumption.  

Here is what I believe about them. About me. About you. About us: “In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (2 Cor 4:4)

Bad news. We are all blind.  We are all blinded by the gods of our age.  We are all unable to see the world as it really is, transcending ourselves to see past our tiny experiences, thoughts, and interpretations.  

We are all in the same boat and we can all spend the rest of our lives pointing fingers at television shows, our religious background (be it Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Atheistic, whatever), our childhood, lost tribes, genetics, science, psychology, and the countless other factors that shape our sight.

But the bottom line is simple.

We. Are. All. Blind. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.

So do we abandon all hope? No, we abandon all pride, accept our blindness, and read this:

We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God’s word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God.  And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled only to those who are perishing.  In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.  For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.  For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Cor 4:3-6)

When we get done reading, we simply say “yes”.

Yes. I am blinded and the world around me is pitch black. Unless God turns the light on.

How do I know that God has turned the light on?  When everything that we see can be summarized in one central phrase…

“the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ”

 

death by love: and it begins

Earlier this month my great friend (and brand new father) Matt Pitts surprised me with a package containing what is, for me, the most highly anticipated book of the year – no other book even comes close.

Pittsy knows me well, not only did he hook me up with Mark Driscoll’s Death by Love: Letters from the Cross, but he also went above and beyond to write a note inside the front cover (which is tremendously meaningful to me).

When I called him to tell him how much I appreciated the gift, I told Pittsy that my plan was to blog my way through the book as I read it.

My goal in posting the “death by love” blogs to come is not to provide a boring summary of the book (I would much rather leave that to some other blogger out there); rather, my goal is to whet your appetite to pick this book up and read it for yourself.

Translation = there won’t be any chapter outlines, long summations, or massive block quotes. I want to point you to the book and encourage to pick it up and read it for yourself.

Let’s get started:

I think this book may be the most theologically and pastorally significant book of the year (I am tempted to say “the decade”)

Why?

Death by Love is all about the gospel – the multifaceted beauty of the gospel as it applies to dirty, gritty, angst-filled, painful reality.

What does the gospel mean when you have been raped? When your father abused you?

What does believing in Christ’s death by love mean for a child molester? If your mother has terminal cancer?

How does the gospel bring salvation to the demon oppressed? to men and women trapped in the world of (viewing and participating in) pornography?

What does the gospel mean to you?

As Mark Driscoll says at the close of the preface, my “prayer is that this book (or series of posts) will be intensely practical in nature, pastoral in tone, theological in depth, biblical in content, and worshipful in consequence.”

And, as Pittsy said in the front cover of my copy of Death by Love, “May you grow in your love for Christ and the church for which he died as you read.”

in the news: Schuller split

the Schullers: Robert H & son, Robert A.

In my daily review of the news I stumbled across an interesting story.

Evidently, this weekend Robert H. Schuller, well known pastor of the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, California, announced that his son, Robert A.Schuller, was being removed from leadership of CC’s “Hour of Power” television ministry.

In making the announcement, the elder Schuller cited “different ideas as to the direction and the vision for this ministry (‘Hour of Power’) as we move into the future”.

This statement, not surprisingly, grabbed my attention.  It is one of those statements that manages to leave you feeling that you know what’s going on when, in fact, you don’t.

So I did a little more digging and found and article in the Los Angeles Times that gets a bit closer to the meaning of “different ideas” for ‘Hour of Power’ – the entire article is worth reading, but here is the part I found most insightful:

Schuller built his worldwide ministry over a half century on the psychology of positive thinking and appealing to people turned off by the formality of traditional faiths. In contrast, his son’s sermons have been full of direct references to the Bible.

“I was called to start a mission, not a church,” Schuller told his audience Sunday. “There is a difference. . . . You don’t try to preach . . . what is sin and what isn’t sin. A mission is a place where you ask nonbelievers to come and find faith and hope and feel love. We’re a mission first, a church second.”

Now, I am in no position to speak with any authority when it comes to the differences between the two Schullers, not having heard either of them preach more than once or twice in passing.  

I cannot speak to the faithfulness of either man when it comes to their adherence to the biblical gospel, but I find it intriguing that the elder Schuller seems desirous that his “mission” be a place “where you ask nonbelievers to come and find faith and hope and feel love”, yet – according the this journalist’s  interpretation  - preaching from the scriptures does not line up with the elder Schuller’s understanding of “faith”, “hope”, or “love”.

If this article is right and the difference between the two men is preaching from the scripture, I got to ask myself, “what’s the point?”

What’s the point of gathering a group of people together in a massive marvel of church architecture to gush intangible feelings of faith, hope, and love that have no clearly defined meaning?  What is the benefit? Why even waste the time? 

If that is the kind of faith, hope, and love coming out of the Crystal Cathedral, then that place is nothing more than a Crystal Tomb, adorned in whitewash.

We need faith, hope, and love that are rooted in Jesus Christ’s death in our place.  

We need faith in his sacrifice.

We need the hope that comes from his glorious resurrection from death.

We need love that is inseparable from 1 John 4: 9-11: “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.  Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”

 

***Editorial Addition: Tuesday morning my Google Reader delivered an outstanding article on the Schuller Split with additional helpful research and insight, so if you want to know more check out Al Mohler’s article “So Much for Possibility Thinking” at his blog, www.albertmohler.com.

***Editorial Note:  Let me be clear that this article has several holes in it, that it provides helpful insight into the nature of the “differences” between the two Schullers, but it is far from conclusive.  

Unfortunately, the language of the Christian subculture is not clearly defined and it is especially prone to misuse by media outlets.  Having recognized this, I want to be clear that my thoughts above are made conditionally, and should not be read as an outright and definite condemnation of the Crystal Cathedral.

close call: nearly an accessory to manslaughter

actual image of the journal has been withheld to protect the innocent

Who would have ever imagined that receiving a one of a kind birthday gift would put me but a breath away from being an accessory to manslaughter?

Who could have ever guessed that one of the three greatest gifts that I have received during my adult life could have turned deadly?

Not I. I never could have imagined.

And, had the thought crossed my mind, while I probably would have kept my mouth shut until I received my gift, I most certainly would not have passed the website on to my beloved friends and family.

Ok, I will quit being coy.

As most of you probably know, I love journals and journaling. This love for a good journal began in earnest when my mom bought me this beautifully ornate celtic journal cover my freshman year in college.

I know this sounds like an over-exaggeration, but it really did change my life. I really learned how to pray with focus and passion on the pages that filled that journal.

If I have not gotten through to you yet, let me be clear: I absolutely love journals.

As my journalling became more and more the bread and butter of my personal devotion time to the Lord, I quickly filled up insert after insert in the celtic journal cover. I love that celtic journal cover.

It was at some point in the year after I graduated from college that I made a discovery.

I stumbled across a beautiful company called Moleskine. This company, I discovered, makes the journal to end all journals. They have a rich history that goes back to Leonardo da Vince and Ernest Hemmingway, they have more shapes, styles, paper types, etc than you can number – they even make day/week/month planners.

It is the perfect combination of compactness and quality heft – and it partners perfectly with my thinline Bible that I prefer to carry with me.

There was, however, one thing lacking with the Moleskine brand.

That one thing? They only come in black. They only came in black.

I discovered this website, engraveyourbook.com (link below),

They will custom engrave, laser etch, any image, into the cover of the Moleskine style of your choosing.

But I had a problem. I had purchased two new journals the last time I ran out because they were cheap at this store that I found … and when I discovered the website I was only through the first half of the first journal!

(Key the heroic trumpet blast)

From out of nowhere, my great friend Brandon came to the rescue! He is an incredible photographer who works his magic in and around Louisville, KY (hit him up at BBRogers.com), and his photography skills are surpassed only by his love for Jesus and his virtually unsurpassable friend-skills.

In one of the single-most impressive birthday moves, Brandon sent me one of the best birthday surprises I can recall – a custom, laver engraved, one-of-a-kind, BBRogers “Silo” series Moleskine journal!

Little did we know that the birthday glory could have been a birthday tragedy.

Watch this video and see if you can see the silent assassin:

“Laser Vs. Moleskine on Vimeo“, posted with vodpod

 

Did you see it! Did you see the smoke rising from the laser of death!

Beware the laser of death, for as I discovered today (to my absolute shock and horror), according to the engraveyourbook.com website:

Engraved Moleskine Update!

WARNING : DO NOT LASER ENGRAVE MOLESKINES WITHOUT THE PROPER FILTRATION SYSTEM. BURNING THEM CREATES HIGHLY TOXIC GASES INCLUDING PHOSGENE AND CHLORINE GAS. THE HYDROCHLORIC ACID PRODUCED WILL CORRODE EVERYTHING IT CONTACTS.

Unfortunately, I am no longer engraving directly onto Moleskine notebooks because the cover material (PVC) is dangerous to engrave. Although the final product is safe, burning PVC with a laser off-gasses toxic gases such as chlorine and phosgene gas : (

I’ll be offering a far superior, reusable, safe and natural alternative in late September. I’d like to thank everyone for their support! Your patience will be rewarded. Feel free to enter your email address to receive updates.

Did you read that?!?

“Highly toxic gases … phosgene(!) … chlorine gas (!!)” – unbelievable.  

What would have happened if the fine folks at engraveyourbook.com had leaned a little too close to admire the brilliant photography?

They would have been toast! Scary.

I can only think of two things to say: 1) Brandon we were that far from having a man’s blood on our hands and 2) I hope they figure our this poison gas thing soon …. I’m running out of pages!!!

cancer was not wasted

 

My mom was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer early this summer.  The day she called and informed me, “Yes Beth it is in fact cancer” was a wake up call. 

Although cancer is a possible reality for us all, there is not a way to adequately brace yourself for those words.

I cried all afternoon. There were so many unknowns.

Has it spread? What does rare form mean? What is the staging? Will her liver be able to process all the toxins from chemotherapy?

Then God’s word took a hold of me.

He gives his children good things. And that day I resolved, this is from the Lord, for my mother’s good, in life or in death, it must be for her good. Therefore this time cannot be wasted.

I went home that night and called my mom. She was preparing dinner as usual and my dad was preparing for his men’s study as usual. There was a since of peace and rest that came over me, knowing my parents were obviously resting in grace that night, in spite of the serious news.

I read my mom an article by John Piper entitled “Don’t Waste Your Cancer.” I listed the points below. I began to pray these things over my mom and over my own heart.

1. You will waste your cancer if you do not believe it is designed for you by God.
2. You will waste your cancer if you believe it is a curse and not a gift.
3. You will waste your cancer if you seek comfort from your odds rather than from God.
4. You will waste your cancer if you refuse to think about death.
5. You will waste your cancer if you think that “beating” cancer means staying alive rather than cherishing Christ.
6. You will waste your cancer if you spend too much time reading about cancer and not enough time reading about God.
7. You will waste your cancer if you let it drive you into solitude instead of deepen your relationships with manifest affection.
8. You will waste your cancer if you grieve as those who have no hope.
9. You will waste your cancer if you treat sin as casually as before.
10. You will waste your cancer if you fail to use it as a means of witness to the truth and glory of Christ.

 

After a long and painful summer, we received the news yesterday that my mom is cancer free, by God’s grace. I can also say in the same breath, this cancer was not wasted.

From day one, my mom believed this is from the hand of the Lord and, therefore, a gift. She persevered through the nausea, vomiting, isolation, and weakness trusting that He who provided life for her in seventh grade, will also provide for her in this season. She never grieved, as one without hope, knowing perfectly well, this could take her life.

Perhaps for me the most profound thing I thought about was my own mortality.  Though I am 24 years old, I realize I am not promised tomorrow.I have spent much of this summer thinking about death, and I think that is a good thing.

The majority of us, at some point, will hear the words, “We have done all we can do, I am sorry.” I have thought about life when the Lord takes Lee home and I have thought about life for Lee when the Lord takes me home.

Though these are hard sobering thoughts, it is a reality. There have been days when I think about death that I am almost paralyzed by it. My relief, being reminded of the glory of Jesus.

I sat through church two Sunday’s ago and listened to a sermon out of Isaiah 6.

We talked about the fact that Isaiah saw Jesus as King at that moment, hundreds of years before his coming as a humble carpenter. I felt my heart being awakened simply by hearing this truth.

In any circumstance, all my efforts and focus must be specifically put on Him – that I may find rest in life and, all the more confidently, in death.

I thank my mom’s cancer for my wrestling with this. Her cancer has not been wasted.

I pray that if I hear those words, “Beth, it is cancer,” I would fight as well as my mom has. She has passed down a legacy of faith from her parents to me.

Mom, I know you miss her, and I am sorry you had to go through this without her, but Grandma would be proud of the way you represented the Savior she loves so much and enjoys even this day.

sad realization

Goodbye Beijing, hello Denver!

It hit me Sunday night while watching the incredible display put on by the Chinese people at the Closing Ceremonies of the Olympics.  

The last three weeks have been absolutely dominated by the Olympic games, the morning shows, the morning programming, afternoon programming, evening news, and prime time all revolved around Michael Phelps, Usain Bolt, the sprite-ly gymnastics team, the medal count – and I have loved every minute of it.  

No, I don’t buy into the great lengths that the Communist Party in China went to in order to convince the world that all is well in their nation.  No, I don’t gloss over the horrible things that the government does on a daily basis to their own citizens – violations of human rights and making every attempt to crush freedom of religious worship. No, the lush HD images did not blind me to the reality behind the system that forcibly made all of those gold medal winning athletes.

But I loved the Olympics and I loved Beijing.  I loved seeing the city during the marathons and admiring the Great Wall.  I loved the competitive spirit and the drive to excellence.  In Beijing, the Olympics are a monument of how great the greatest of humanity can be – and how weak we can truly be.

We can pour every ounce of our  effort, thought, passion, and money into greatness, but even when we achieve our greatest dream – the gold metal or the greatest Olympic games in modern history – we cannot do it all.

The Olympics are about human nature being painted on an epic scale.  The Olympics show the great potential of people who are created in the image of God to achieve greatness.  The Olympics also show us the reality of our sinfulness, our depravity, our brokeness.  

Now the Olympics are over and – unfortunately – Beijing is no longer in the spotlight.  Now we move to Denver, where the Democratic National Convention will be at the center of our American world for the next week or so.

While I have little love for politics, regardless of the party being considered, they are similar to the Olympics.  There is such a hope for victory, for conquest, an aching for “our candidate” to win the race.  

Just like the gold metals of Beijing, however, we all know that the road to human attainment is stained with the guilt of many transgressions.

We are a people of great tension.  We are paradoxes, little mysteries – this world of humanity.  Such potential for greatness.  Such potential for disappointment, for failure, for falling short.

At the Olympics, we hope and herald the ability of sport to save our world from its wars, its hatred, its strife.  In the political arena, we herald and hope for a new day in America, a leader who will save us from our hardships, our wars, ourselves.

Alas, it is not to be.

Israel longed for a Messiah, a Savior who would be a Warrior and a King.  They got him, he came. But he was not what they wanted, his conquest was not the one they were expecting – or that they really wanted.

Not much has changed.  

In this month of Olympic heros and political saviors, see through the hype and realize that, ultimately, another sporting competition and another election is not enough to save this world – we need something more dramatic, more powerful. more revolutionary.

We need God to become a man, to die for our sins, and to rise from death.  We need him to return – thats our only hope.  We need Jesus.