Did you ever want to be a hero? (Repost)

 Here is a note I wrote almost 16 years ago, and it rings true today. I hope is blesses you all. 

Heb 11:32-40

“32 And what more shall I say? For time will fail me if I tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, 33 who by faith conquered kingdoms, performed acts of righteousness, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received back their dead by resurrection; and others were tortured, not accepting their release, so that they might obtain a better resurrection; 36 and others experienced mockings and scourgings, yes, also chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated 38(men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground.

39 And all these, having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us they would not be made perfect.” NASU

There are several stories represented in this passage from Hebrews—stories of daring action, bold attacks, thrilling suspense, and even political intrigue and romance. Read this list above again—these people conquered kingdoms, shut lions’ mouths, quenched fire, became mighty in war, etc.

Remember when you were growing up and you would pretend to be a soldier in a war, or a superhero fighting crime, or a “man alone” against evil? Did you ever dream of conquering kingdoms by yourself? Did you fight the odds? Did you defeat the evil ones with your super powers? Did the “good guys” win the fight?

I remember playing at superheroes and war when I was a child. None of my brothers or friends would choose to lose. We wanted to be the hero, the one who changed the tide of battle so that the “good guys” won. We wanted to perform daring deeds; we wanted to walk with a swagger, to be swashbucklers for good!

We wanted to be John Wayne, Roy Rogers, Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, Captain America. We wanted to be heroes standing against the evil doers!

We wanted to be like those listed here in Hebrews 11. We wanted to be amazing, to be daring, to be bold, to be courageous.

Where are we now?

What kind of heroes have we become at the end?

Where are our tales of daring, of bold actions?

Phillips Brooks says it like this:

“The great danger facing all of us—let me say it again, for one feels it tremendously—is not that we shall make an absolute failure of life, nor that we shall fall into outright viciousness, nor that we shall be terribly unhappy, nor that we shall feel that life has no meaning at all—not these things. The danger is that we may fail to perceive life’s greatest meaning, fall short of its highest good, miss its deepest and most abiding happiness, be unable to render the most needed service, be unconscious of life ablaze with the light of the Presence of God—and be content to have it so—that is the danger. That some day we may wake up and find that always we have been busy with the husks and trappings of life—and have really missed life itself.”

Have I lost my verve for life? Have I lost contact with the One who makes life worth living?

Have I fallen into the danger of complacency and mediocrity? Have I missed that “abundant life” because I forgot how much fun it was to “risk it all” to save someone from evil?

Have I allowed my contact with God to be minimal?

In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Aslan is described in this manner:

“’Safe?’ said Mr. Beaver, ‘Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.’”

God is like that.

He isn’t safe, he isn’t tame . . . in fact, God can be quite wild on occasions.

But he is GOOD.

We have to have contact with him, we have to be intimately attached to him for life to be good.

Oh, life may also be wild on occasions, and it will not always be safe.

But it will be GOOD. . . .

And abundant. . . .

When once we experience this intimacy with God, the hope is that we will become addicted. Addicted to God, what a great idea! As God in Christ fills all of our mundane existence, we will begin to see all of life as sacramental. Why? Because God is in it.

That’s our challenge, isn’t it? To live as though all those things Jesus said were true. As Charlie Peacock has said, we must learn to “live like heaven is a real place.”

May God grant us the grace to do so.

Thanks for reading!

"Borrowing Grace" . . . Do You Hear Him?

Some recent reading prompted me to pen the following thoughts.  I am indebted to people like C. S. Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer for the thoughts below. They not only compelled my thinking, their writings provide the source of some of the "grace" I tend to "borrow" the most.  So, "borrowing grace" refers to receiving something of worth unexpectedly.  Here is today's "borrowed grace".

C. S. Lewis says in Mere Christianity:

The real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

Each morning there is a voice calling to us. Do we hear it? Oh there may well be a cacophany of voices in your mind/heart! I know there often is a raucous and rowdy group of them in mine!

"Don't forget your work! Don't forget that review you promised! Don't forget to play with your children! Don't forget to read your Bible!"

The voices vie for my attention even as my mind tries to shake the cobwebs of sleep and regain some semblance of focus. I hear them every morning. As Lewis notes, they rush at me.

What voices call us away from the Voice?

Do you hear him?

God is calling--"come to me, all who are weary and I will give you rest."

"Take my burden upon you."

"All you like sheep have gone astray."

"Come to me, all who are burdened."

The imagery of coming out of the wind is a good one. Lewis reminds us to leave the wind of the voices calling us to busy-ness so that we can stop to listen to the one voice that matters.

God's call matters.

There is something about the call of God that transforms us when we hear it and respond. It isn't what we do, it is the very fact that God in his grace and kindness "called" us, spoke to us, singled us out, so to speak.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in The Cost of Discipleship:

The call of Jesus makes the disciple community not only the salt but also the light of the world: their activity is visible, as well as imperceptible. "You are the light." Once again it is not: "you are to be the light," they are already the light because Christ has called them. They are a light which is seen of men, they cannot be otherwise, and if they were it would be a sign that they had not been called. How impossible, how utterly absurd it would be for the disciples--these disciples, such men as these!--to try and become the light of the world! No. They are already the light and the call has made them so. Nor does Jesus say: "You have the light." The light is not an instrument which has been put into their hands, such as their preaching. It is the disciples themselves. By an amazing act of mercy, they are the light.

When God speaks, something changes. The very call to discipleship changes us.

As in the beginning when God simply spoke things into existence, his Word continues to breathe creative life into the heart of humanity (see John 1). His Word enlightens us, illuminates our dark lives, transforms us into the light of the world.

God speaks, something happens. Light comes into being. Darkness is confused, overcome, ruined.

God speaks, light breaks forth.

God calls, and we become salt and light. Every part of us becomes a testimony to the kindness of God. Every aspect of our life bleeds his kindness, his love, his grace, his mercy, his call.

God speaks, stuff happens.

Wow!

Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!

Thank you for reading!

Borrowing Grace . . . Do You Hear Him?

Some recent reading prompted me to pen the following thoughts.  I am indebted to people like C. S. Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer for the thoughts below. They not only compelled my thinking, their writings provide the source of some of the "grace" I tend to "borrow" the most.  So, "borrowing grace" refers to receiving something of worth unexpectedly.  Here is today's "borrowed grace".

C. S. Lewis says in Mere Christianity:

The real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

Each morning there is a voice calling to us. Do we hear it? Oh there may well be a cacophany of voices in your mind/heart! I know there often is a raucous and rowdy group of them in mine!

"Don't forget your work! Don't forget that review you promised! Don't forget to play with your children! Don't forget to read your Bible!"

The voices vie for my attention even as my mind tries to shake the cobwebs of sleep and regain some semblance of focus. I hear them every morning. As Lewis notes, they rush at me.

What voices call us away from the Voice?

Do you hear him?

God is calling--"come to me, all who are weary and I will give you rest."

"Take my burden upon you."

"All you like sheep have gone astray."

"Come to me, all who are burdened."

The imagery of coming out of the wind is a good one. Lewis reminds us to leave the wind of the voices calling us to busy-ness so that we can stop to listen to the one voice that matters.

God's call matters.

There is something about the call of God that transforms us when we hear it and respond. It isn't what we do, it is the very fact that God in his grace and kindness "called" us, spoke to us, singled us out, so to speak.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in The Cost of Discipleship:

The call of Jesus makes the disciple community not only the salt but also the light of the world: their activity is visible, as well as imperceptible. "You are the light." Once again it is not: "you are to be the light," they are already the light because Christ has called them. They are a light which is seen of men, they cannot be otherwise, and if they were it would be a sign that they had not been called. How impossible, how utterly absurd it would be for the disciples--these disciples, such men as these!--to try and become the light of the world! No. They are already the light and the call has made them so. Nor does Jesus say: "You have the light." The light is not an instrument which has been put into their hands, such as their preaching. It is the disciples themselves. By an amazing act of mercy, they are the light.

When God speaks, something changes. The very call to discipleship changes us.

As in the beginning when God simply spoke things into existence, his Word continues to breathe creative life into the heart of humanity (see John 1). His Word enlightens us, illuminates our dark lives, transforms us into the light of the world.

God speaks, something happens. Light comes into being. Darkness is confused, overcome, ruined.

God speaks, light breaks forth.

God calls, and we become salt and light. Every part of us becomes a testimony to the kindness of God. Every aspect of our life bleeds his kindness, his love, his grace, his mercy, his call.

God speaks, stuff happens.

Wow!

Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!

Thank you for reading!

In Remembrance of the Holocaust

Recently we remembered a sad page in the history of humanity when we celebrated a day of remembrance for the tragedy known as the Holocaust.  Perhaps like me, you recalled the liberation of the prison camp Dachau among others from the nightmare of Nazi oppression and thuggery.  It is not a thing of joy, but nonetheless I try annually to remind myself of the depth of depravity to which humanity can slip, even humanity that justifies its inhumanity and brutality by science. The Nazis showed the dark beastial side of humanity, the side we all have to some degree (although most of us will never admit it). The Nazis were more than thugs or brutes or even barbarians, they were humans that (in C. S. Lewis' words from The Abolition of Man) were humans without magnanimity, "men without chests." Here are Lewis' own words about such people:

"They are not distinguished from other men by any unusual skill in finding truth nor any virginal ardour to pursue her. Indeed, it would be strange if they were: a persevering devotion to truth, a nice of intellectual honour, cannot be long maintained without the aid of sentiment . . . It is not excess of thought but defect of fertile and generous emotion that marks them out. Their heads are no bigger than the ordinary: it is the atrophy of the chest beneath that makes them seem so." (C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers, 2001, p. 25).

These Germans were not less human than the rest of us, they just acted as people without that emotion that makes our "better angels" show up instead of the "brutes" in each of us. They became the "elites" who judged other races in humanity as mere brutish nature to be studied. They were Social Darwinists who wanted to keep their race pure, and who ultimately participated in that which Lewis deems "the abolition of man." They were people like us. In many ways we hate to admit, they were us. As one survivor records the event of his liberation:

"The full record of the pseudo-medical experimentations came to light. Prisoners had been used as laboratory animals, without the humane restrictions placed on vivisection. Hannah Arendt suggested that `the camp was itself a vast laboratory in which the Nazis proved that there is no limit to human depravity.' For it was remembered that these experiments were not planned or conducted by identifiable psychopaths. They were performed or supervised by professional scientists, trained in what had been once considered peerless universities and medical schools. Reverend Franklin Littell called them `technically competent barbarians.' Indeed the procedures had the full approval and cooperation of Berlin's Institute of Hygiene." (Sachar, Abram L. The Redemption of the Unwanted. New York: St. Martin's/Marek, 1983, pp. 8-10)

Let us remember with sadness the number of innocents lost and the reality of our own potentially brutish nature. Let us not forget that without grace, we are all irredeemably lost. Could Dachau or Auschwitz happen again? Only if humans let it, only if we deny once again our own humanity and treat our fellow humans as mere animals or brutes. Yes, it can happen again. Let's pray that it doesn't. Let's make sure it doesn't.

This topic is heavy and sad. I don't apologize for that, but I do want to put the weight down now.

Thanks for reading.

Another Song from T-Bone Burnett--The Wild Truth

I was listening to "Relentless" today when I came across this song. I had forgotten it, to be honest, but not because of the title. In fact, the title reminds me of C. S. Lewis' The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe when beaver is talking to the children about Aslan. One of the kids (Lucy, I think), says of Aslan, "But he is a tame lion, isn't he?" Beaver responds something like, "Didn't you hear what she said? Aslan isn't tame, but he is good!" I always appreciated the image of a God who is good but not tame. A God that cannot be domesticated and put into a corner like an idol. A God whose character is solid but whose actions are like the wind--a bit unpredictable. T-Bone Burnett's song "The Wild Truth" reminds me of that. Here are the lyrics. I hope you enjoy them!

"The Wild Truth"

You never said it was a bed of roses
but you never said it was a bed of nails
you never told me 'bout the rubber hoses
or how unsteady were the justice scales

i need the wild truth

on the street there are a billion people
they got no love, they got no hope
they got no youth, they got no beauty
they're looking backwards through a telescope

they need the wild truth

whatever happened to the man walking down the street
with his hands in his pockets whistling a tune?
science fiction and nostalgia have become the same thing

i don't know how to make any choices anymore i mean,
who do i vote for? i get the feeling that as soon as
something appears in the paper it ceases to be true

i want to meet the man who can crack this world of justice
like a safe. someone with the courage to allow room for
good things to run wild

into the wild truth

we don't need no voodoo stories
from no magic president
who tries to make a dream a fait accompli
by using phantoms for his evidence

we need the wild truth

i tell a hundred thousand lies that twist me
into the noise where i hide my sin
my shame and scandal pull me down and kiss me
i can't live a life that might have been

i need the wild truth

are we supposed to take all this greed and fear and hatred
seriously? it's like watching dust settle it never changes
it's too consistent

mercy is not consistent it's like the wind
it goes where it will. mercy is comic, and it's the only
thing worth taking seriously

i need the wild truth

Thanks for reading!