There is no delete button

“This is one doodle that can’t be undid home skillet.” – The Store Clerk, Juno

The delete key, one of the joys of living in the digital age. If you end up with something you don’t like you don’t have to watch it pile up in your garbage can, you can just delete it and suddenly it’s like it never existed. No wonder people can’t deal with reality, the mistakes you make out there last forever. There’s no erase, no backspace, or delete in real life; everything out here is permanent. It’s one thing to imagine what failure would feel like, it’s another thing to feel it, to live through it, to endure the sleepless nights, and the gut wrenching agony that you’re sure no one else has ever felt as deeply as you do. Which is stupid, everyone has failed one way or another usually multiple times per day. It just shows how self centered we are, that we think we’re the only ones to have ever felt like this. There are people all over the world who are far worse off than we are and yet we think we have the right to gripe about our car problems, while there are people walking several miles just to go to school. We complain about the price of food, while millions go hungry. The worst part is we feel justified while we do it, we claim it as our right to whine about whatever perceived wrong happens to own the soap box that particular day. Our hair, our clothes, having to wade our way through mountains of homework, the seeming injustice of a teacher that we swear is trying to kill us so they can devour our soul.

I have a feeling that if life did have a delete button that we’d all use it so much that we’d end up back in the Garden of Eden, because that’s what we all want, that’s what we’re wired for. The imprint of Eden is still on our souls and it haunts us all.

Every.

Single.

Day.

We desire perfection because man was created perfect, the image of God himself. (Gen. 1:26-27) But being like God wasn’t good enough for us, we wanted to BE God. We wanted to set ourselves up as the ultimate authority. To base holiness off of what pleased and brought glory to us, not what brought joy to the heart of The Creator. So we ate the fruit and crowned ourselves as the rulers of our lives, the spiritual coupe was completed and our lives are scared forever by that childish, reckless decision. Mankind, the being that didn’t even possess the power to create itself, let alone the world it lived in, decided it knew more than a being that has simply always been. (John 1:1-3, John 8:58)As soon as we overthrew what we thought was an abusive, unloving, dictatorship we regretted it. (Gen. 3:7) Ever since our desire has been to find the delete button for life so that we can go back to living in a world without sin. But no such button exists, there’s no going back and undoing that one terrible moment. That doesn’t mean there’s no hope though.

There may not be a delete button, but there is whiteout. (Isaiah 1:18)

In spite of our great rebellion God still loves us and pursues us with an unquenchable fervor. So much so that He designed the only plan that could rescue us from ourselves, despite the fact that it meant sending the second person of the Trinity, Jesus, to die in our place. (Matt. 16:21) So the deep, ugly stain of sin was washed out and made pure, and while it’s not as good as having never rebelled it’s better than never being rescued.

My sin

Trying to work through writers block. I hate that word, that state of being. I’m sitting here trying to get my thoughts out on a piece of paper and my brain decides to stop feeding me anything worth typing and all I’m left with is deep, unpenetratable darkness and fog rolling around my mind. Clogging all avenues of thought and forcing me to find my way through the side streets and back alleys of thought. As I try to find my way to a clear thought I pass places I haven’t ventured in years and never dared to stay and visit for fear of what I’d remember and the things they would cause me to feel. The sorrow of loss, the deep despair of depression and hopelessness, the stabbing pain of betrayal, the fear of living a lie. They all come rushing back to me as I stop and stare into the storefronts in my mind. The stores have names like, “My Family”, “High school”, “The Air Force”, “Girls”, and “People I thought were friends”. I want to turn and walk away, to never look at these things again but I can’t. I’m held there in a state of morbid curiosity praying, hoping, pleading, that somehow as I watch the past unfold in front of me that this time things will turn out different. That maybe this time my cousin won’t get addicted to drugs. That I’ll do more with my teenage years, instead of waiting until I’m 17 to pay attention to God’s voice. That I’ll be a better leader in basic training this time. That if I replay it over in my mind for the millionth time I won’t have to break up with my girlfriend. And maybe, just maybe, this time people will care enough about me to keep me from spending the better part of a night hunched over a toilet puking my guts out.

Instead I see the same things I always see. The heartbreak, the selfishness, the stupidity, the poor choices, and the nights of crying myself to sleep. I want to tear myself away from the horror show playing out before me, but I can’t, I won’t, because as painful as it is to watch I remember what comes next. The restoration, the redemption, the growth, and finding a spiritual depth I never dreamed of. Not because I deserve it, but because Jesus died for me. He died to cover my sin, my pain, my stupidity, and my invisible spine and redeem them. He reaches into the farthest, most dirty areas of my life and transforms them into something amazing; something new, clean, and pure. And all I can do in return is give Him all the glory for it, there’s nothing about the process I can take credit for. The images in the store’s windows are painful reminders that on my own I’m useless and constantly making a mess out of things.

Jesus is the only thing I have that’s worth anything, the only one who can put me back together, the only one who’s ever lived a perfect life so I wouldn’t have to, and that makes Him the only thing worth clinging to. Not my scars, my pride, or my pain. So I watch the movies play themselves out again and again to remind myself of a love greater and stronger than all my sin. I don’t enjoy the suffering, but I love being rescued.

The trip home

I know I usually write things that somehow tie back in to a bigger reality in life but tonight I’m just writing because I want too. Or, as Oscar Wilde would say, “Art for the sake of art.”

We had our first snow fall of the season in the Metro area today, none of it stuck but it’s obvious that nature is serving notice that summer is on its way out and winter is fast approaching. In the mean time we’re stuck in that beautiful purgatory known as autumn where the world is momentarily suspended between the two stark contrasts of blazing heat, and freezing cold. Fall is probably my favorite time of year not because of the changing colors of the leaves but because of the unique feel in the air. There’s a certain chill in the breeze that only happens this time of year that makes me feel more alive and self aware. It seeps down deep into the marrow of my bones until I feel like I’ve ceased to exist and melted into the world around me, walking across campus with the granite mountains of the Rockies behind me and the concrete mountains of downtown before of me. The sounds of helicopters and airplanes flying overhead with only the flashing of their lights set against the night sky to alert you to their physical location. On the bus you can listen to the ebb and flow of conversation, the various accents from all over the world occasionally punctured by bursts of laughter reminding us of our common humanity regardless of where, or what, we call home. I get off at my stop and melt back into the chill of fall as I walk past Tommy’s Thai food, Enzo’s End pizzeria; with a bar strait out of Hopper’s “Nighthawks”, and the flower shop with gang signs carved into the grills of the air conditioner units hanging out of the windows. The white Christmas lights wrapped around Bastien’s wink at me from across the street welcoming me home after a long day of classes. I admire the tiny plants growing up between the cracks in the asphalt refusing to be choked out by the world around them not caring that the world considers them weeds that are simply a nuisance, bent on surviving in their adverse circumstances. As I turn the corner I look at the half burnt-out Monroe Liquor Store sign, with its chipped white paint and think that it looks like something from a grainy black and white photo that somehow got stuck in the wrong era. An artifact from the analog years comically cast in the digital age, a subtle reminder of where we came from. A time when typewriters, records, and Polaroid’s reigned supreme never dreaming that they’d be replaced by computers, MP3 players, and digital cameras. While all this is still tumbling through my mind I slowly climb the stairs to my apartment, turn the key in the lock, step into the warm air of my artificial environment, and hit the reset button on reality.

Evolution and The Gospel

“Give me something to believe, ‘cause I’m living just to breathe.” – The Bravery, Something to believe


I had my class on biological anthropology today and every time I sit in that class I’m always struck by how depressing evolution is. Why would anyone want to believe that we’re pure chance, that we’re some cosmic accident that took millions of years of trial and error? If we’re all some freak occurrence then why care about people in Darfur? I mean, it’s all just survival of the fittest isn’t it? If their climate dictates that they don’t survive why should anyone care? It’s less competition for the rest of us, so why do we have this innate desire to care for the abused, displaced, and helpless? Wouldn’t evolution encourage us to be as self-centered as we can?

Or, is it possible that we were put here ON purpose, FOR a purpose. Does it really take any more faith to believe that the reason we care about people is because we were designed to care by a God who cares? Maybe I’m naïve, simple, and just plain stupid but it seems to me that all these things that scientists can’t explain could be very easily understood if they simply acknowledged the existence of a Creator who made the entire world for His enjoyment and glory. That He put the human race here because He wanted to, because He wanted to share the beauty and grander of His creation with us that we, in turn, would marvel and delight in Him.

Sirens

My apartment is just a few blocks from a major intersection here in Denver, also I live within five miles of a police substation and six hospitals so sirens have become the background music to my life here. The first few weeks I was here every siren I heard grabbed my attention but after being here for a little over a month I’ve gotten so used to it I don’t really notice anymore. I used to wake up at night every time a first responder flew by with them blaring. Now I get up in the morning and wonder how many I slept through.

Being a Christian can be like that. When we first become Christians we’re very attentive to when the Holy Spirit is warning of us things in our life that need to change. Whether it’s a biting tongue, anger issues, or a drug addiction our heart tends to be very tender and responsive to the prompting of the Holy Spirit early on in our walk. After awhile though the noise and demands of life start to drown out what was originally so easy to hear. Additionally, after a time it’s easy to ignore or become annoyed with the warnings of the Holy Spirit. We dangerously begin to think that we have a strong enough grasp on what it means to be a Christian that we stop listening to the very member of the Trinity that was sent to help us in our walk even to the point of telling us exactly what to tell the world about Jesus (Luke 12:11-12). When I word it like that it sounds stupid not to listen but we all do it. I can’t count the times I’ve ignored what the Holy Spirit was practically yelling at me in order to do what I wanted. I’m ashamed to think about how many times I’ve chosen my own comfort and desires over what the Holy Spirit was prompting me too.

The question then is how do we keep our hearts soft to voice of God in our lives? While I’m skittish about throwing out a one size fits all formula to our spiritual lives I will say that scripture makes it very clear that prayer is key in our ability to affectively hear God and respond to Him. In 2 Kings 6:17 we see prayer used to literally open the eyes of Elisha’s servant to a spiritual reality. In Acts 9:40 Peter prays for Tabatha and she’s brought back to life. The beautiful thing about prayer is it reminds us that we aren’t in control that we constantly have to humble ourselves before the Lord acknowledging that we don’t have it all figured out and are in desperate need of His guidance. Humbling ourselves to the point of praying from our brokenness in genuine, authentic, real ways will help us facilitate a mindset that’s responsive to the leading of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

Jesus in the everyday

(Note: This is a slightly updated version of a blog post from over a year ago, still working on it.) :)



Today was one of those days that you never think about as a kid. You know, the days when being a grown up is "boring." I went grocery shopping, cleaned the dishes, and took out the trash. (Yes, kids it's one big party. WOO-HOO!) :) The highlight of the day was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watching Chuck on Hulu. I enjoyed it though mostly 'cause it makes me laugh to think about how naive I was as a kid. Somehow I envisioned myself going to parties every night of the week and just hanging out being "cool", whatever that meant. Now my idea of cool is getting wheat bread buy one get one free. I almost did the happy dance right there in the bakery isle. Until I remembered that, a.) I'm white b.) it's just bread and c.) I'm in the middle of Mejier. Thinking about doing "boring" stuff reminds me of Acts 16:11-12. Luke gives what seems to be really pointless information about their traveling. "So, setting sail from Troas, we made a direct voyage to Samothrace, and the following day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city some days." I'm always struck by how mundane this all sounds. There are no miracles, no angry mobs trying to kill someone, nothing earth shaking happens anywhere in these verses. And I wonder, “why is this even in the Bible? Are Paul's traveling habit's that important?” But I stop and think about what the Bible is all about, Jesus, and His Gospel. Then it takes on a slightly different appearance. Jesus was there with them in the middle of all that, the boring, everyday, unexciting routine of life. Just like He was there with me while I was shopping for bread, washing dishes, and eating PB&J. Also the fact that they were able to do all that uneventfully shows God's protection. They didn't get caught in any major storms, pirates didn't attack their ship, and nobody got sea sick. Similarly today I didn't get in a wreck, cut or poke myself doing the dishes, and I'm very thankful that I'm not allergic to peanuts. So really far from being boring this is actually a fairly comforting passage. It shows that God is always there with us not just when there's some big miracle, but when we're able to get out of bed in the morning and make it through a whole day without anything seriously awful happening to us, that's cause for praise too.

Who is Jesus? Take 2

(Authors note: This is the new and improved version of "Who is Jesus?" Still looking for feedback, especially as the first round of comments was so helpful. Thanks. )



“The Jesus of suburbia is a lie” - Green Day, Are we the waiting?


“Who do you say that I am?”

Jesus asked his disciples this question over two thousand years ago and it still holds true for us today. Who do we say Jesus is? A great moral teacher? A loony whack job with delusions of grandeur? Some mystical sky fairy that does whatever we ask Him to, like a supernatural PEZ dispenser? Or God’s own son sent to earth to pay the price for sin? These are just some of the possible reactions to Jesus, but which one is the right one? Is there a correct answer, or is it simply left up to the individual to decide which version they prefer to believe in?

In a culture where the customer is always right we want to believe we should get whatever version of Jesus we want. Today’s evangelical Christian culture has practically become a giant Baskin Robins, helping us find the flavor of Jesus that best suites us. You don’t like hippie Jesus? Try 80’s rock star Jesus, complete with feathered hair! Still not what you’re looking for? Try health and wealth Jesus, or holier-than-thou Jesus, now with three new pious sayings!

The problem is Jesus is not consumer friendly, he never intended to be. He was homeless (Matt. 8:20), His teachings were often hard to understand (Luke 8:9-10), and the ones that could be understood were incredibly challenging (Matt 19:25). Jesus never did a four week series on how to have a better marriage, there was no twelve steps to financial security (honestly, who’s going to take financial advice from a homeless guy?) He never taught people how to improve their self esteem, or how to achieve “your best life now.” Jesus’ teaching was actually shockingly simple. At the heart of all the parables, the miracles, and the healings, was His claim to be God (John 10:25-30). There are only two reactions to this teaching; you can receive His free gift of salvation and live your life centered on the reality of who He is and what He’s done, or reject Him and set yourself up as your own god.

The Lordship of Jesus is not a popular concept in our society because it means we have to shape our idea of Jesus to what the bible teaches about him, instead of shaping Jesus to our ideas of what He should look like. Suddenly Jesus goes from being our golfing buddy who knows all the good jokes, to the holy, all-encompassing God of the universe. This isn’t a Jesus who sits and drinks herbal tea with us while stroking our ego and giving us the warm fuzzies. Instead He’s the terrifying, just, God who punishes those in opposition to Him in a fury of Holy wrath (Gen 19:23-30). Has God allowed us to have a personal relationship with Him through the person and work of Jesus and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit? Yes. Does God love us more then we can fathom, desiring to bless us and give us joy? Yes. But I fear we’ve over emphasized His love and mercy and in doing so turned the awesome, powerful, fear-inducing Lion of Judah into a neutered house cat.

Of course there are people who go too far the other direction and turn God (Jesus) into some crotchety old man who does nothing but sit around all day taking joy in judging people on every last thing they do. Somehow they manage to forget that the act that our entire belief system is based on; the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus on our behalf for the payment our sins, is the most loving, gracious, merciful, selfless act in all of human history. How could we forget that this is the same God that spared the entire human race through Noah and his sons (Gen. 6 and 7), that saved Lot from certain destruction in Sodom (Gen. 19). Most astonishing of all in Exodus 34:6 just two chapters after the Israelites had built the golden calf, essentially spitting in the eye of the God who had just rescued them from Egypt, God describes Himself to Moses and the entire nation this way:

"The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,”

Which leads us back to the original question, who do we say Jesus is? The judgmental kill joy in the sky? Or the benevolent, passive, fairy from Heaven with Holy pixie dust that He sprinkles on everyone so that no one will go to Hell? Hopefully by now you can see that neither of these is a true depiction of the Jesus we see in the Bible, but it still doesn’t answer the question.

The best description came from Jesus Himself, a shepherd (John 10:7-18). A shepherd is violent when his flock is threatened. He takes whatever measures are necessary to defend his sheep, not allowing anything to get close to them that may harm or kill them. At the same time a shepherd is loving and gentle with his sheep, tending to their needs, not wanting any of them to suffer harm. In the same way Jesus defends His church with a mighty and terrible love. To those who would defile and corrupt His Holy bride, he is fierce and relentless. Habitual commandment breakers, false teachers, liars, and heretics are met with His demand for Holiness and sentenced to eternity in Hell. With those He’s called and redeemed He is merciful and long suffering, not willing to lose even one to Satan’s schemes. There are times when a believer needs to be reprimanded but it’s done out of Jesus’ love for them and His desire to draw them closer to Himself. Not out of some cruel, twisted joy in watching them suffer.

The Jesus of the Bible is not some junior high kid flying from one extreme to another on a whim, but rather a loving father taking whatever stance is necessary to protect and nurture His children.

Who is Jesus?

(Authors note: This is a rough draft of something I'm working on, feedback would be very helpful.)

“The Jesus of suburbia is a lie” - Green Day, Are we the waiting?


“Who do you say that I am?”

Jesus asked his disciples this question over two thousand years ago and it still holds true for us today. Who do we say Jesus is? A great moral teacher? A loony whack job with delusions of grandeur? Some mystical sky fairy that does whatever we ask Him to, like a supernatural PEZ dispenser? Or God’s own son sent to earth to pay the price for sin? These are just some of the possible reactions to Jesus, but which one is the right one? Is there a correct answer, or is it simply left up to the individual to decide which version they prefer to believe in?

In a culture where the customer is always right we want to believe we should get whatever version of Jesus we want. Today’s evangelical Christian culture has practically become a giant Baskin Robins, helping us find the flavor of Jesus that best suites us. You don’t like hippie Jesus? Try 80’s rock star Jesus, complete with feathered hair! Still not what you’re looking for? Try health and wealth Jesus, or holier-than-thou Jesus, now with three new pious sayings!

The problem is Jesus is not consumer friendly, he never intended to be. He was homeless (Matt. 8:20), His teachings were often hard to understand (Luke 8:9-10), and the ones that could be understood were incredibly challenging (Matt 19:25). Jesus never did a four week series on how to have a better marriage, there was no twelve steps to financial security (honestly, who’s going to take financial advice from a homeless guy?) He never taught people how to improve their self esteem, or how to achieve “your best life now.” Jesus’ teaching was actually shockingly simple. At the heart of all the parables, the miracles, and the healings, was His claim to be God (John 10:25-30). There are only two reactions to this teaching; you can receive His free gift of salvation and live your life centered on the reality of who He is and what He’s done, or reject Him and set yourself up as your own god.

The Lordship of Jesus is not a popular concept in our society because it means we have to shape our idea of Jesus to what the bible teaches about him, instead of shaping Jesus to our ideas of what He should look like. Suddenly Jesus goes from being our golfing buddy with the solid handicap, to the holy, all-encompassing God of the universe. This isn’t a Jesus who sits and drinks herbal tea with us while stroking our ego and giving us the warm fuzzys. Instead He’s the terrifying, just, God who punishes those in opposition to Him in a fury of Holy wrath (Gen 19:23-30). Has God allowed us to have a personal relationship with Him through the person and work of Jesus and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit? Yes. Does God love us more then we can fathom, desiring to bless us and give us joy? Yes. But I fear we’ve over emphasized His love and mercy and in doing so turned the awesome, powerful, fear-inducing Lion of Judah into a neutered house cat.