Cultivated

My memories of growing up on our 3 ½ acre “fake” farm run deep.  Some of my earliest memories were when my older brother and I would spend our afternoons racing tractors.  My dad owned a couple of old crank start Farmall H tractors that he kept parked side by side near the pig pen.  The two beasts were nearly identical with the exception of the paint color.  One machine held fast to remnants of the original Farmall red, while the other had grayed and rusted from years of neglect.  I usually hurried to the red one as everyone knew that was the faster tractor.  My older brother reluctantly found himself mounting the Gray Ghost as we called her. 

We spent hours racing the tractors and arguing about who won, each of us insisting that we had bested the other.

“I won!”

“No you didn’t!”

“Sure I did!”

“You couldn’t have won, you were on the older clunker!”

This usually went on until mother called us in for supper.

“Boys! Stop playing on those tractors and come in for supper!

“Mom! Tell Ross that I won the race!”

“Well Ryan, considering the fact that those two tractors never moved even an inch during your “races”, I would say that you both won.”

“Or both lost!” my dad interjected.

Perhaps I neglected to emphasize…this was a fake farm…with fake running tractors.  Sure the tractors were real, but they had never run in my lifetime.  Additionally, being only 6 and 7 years old respectively, me and my brother would never have been able to crank start those machines.  Therefore  we relied on making our own engine noises.  My noises were always faster and better…that is why I won the races.

All of this changed however, on the day that dad brought home a real working tractor.   It was a tiny little orange Allis Chalmers B.  It was from that day on that our lives changed…for the worse.

Immediately Dad brought my brother and I outside to “work the land.”  This mostly meant that Dad insisted that we stand outside and watch him work and stay out of mom’s way.  He said something to the effect of, “Boys, come out with me…you mother is losing her mind and she needs to have you guys out of the house.”  I assumed that she must have found the pet toad I left in the dresser drawer.

So we stood and watched,  as Dad broke the ground with an old single bottom plow.  Then we watched some more as he disc harrowed the newly plowed earth.  We watched even more as he ran the drag across the newly harrowed ground.  Then came the work.  He made us walk all over the soft ground picking up all of the rocks that we could find and place them in a pile outside of the prepared area.  He then made us shovel manure by hand into wheelbarrows and dump the loads of excrement all over the newly dragged dirt.

Then we stood and watched some more as he harrowed the ground again…and dragged it again. 

It was at this point that my brother and I took turns riding on the antique farm machines being pulled behind the Iron Ox.  After my older brother had spent some time bouncing on the steel seat of the corn planter I took a turn being jostled on the vintage potato planter.  The following weeks and months included watering, weeding and finally harvesting.  When all was said and done we had corn ears coming out of our ears and enough bags of potatoes to shake a stick at. 

That about ended our farming career as the old Allis Chalmers went to the old tractor shed in the sky.  

The soft soil has once again become hard and pocked with gopher mounds.  Looking at it today, you would never have known that for a few short months it was a small fertile plot of land 200ft x 200ft.

Land is like a muscle, you have to work it to keep it growing.  When the land is neglected it reverts back to the hardened soil it was known as earlier.  Here we find an incredible parallel to the Parable Jesus shares in Matthew 13:1-23.  In these verses we find the condition of a variety of soils and how these soils are able to receive the sweet seed of the Gospel. 

Perhaps the soil of your heart is hard or perhaps it is soft, or perhaps it is even somewhere in between.  The condition of your heart today does not have to stay way it is.  If you have a heart that hard it can be softened.  If you have a hear that has become hard, it can be softened again.  Conversely, if you have a heart that is soft…sadly it can become hardened.  As a farmer never ends the annual working of the soil, so our God never ends his work of softening our hearts for His transformation.

May we come to invite him to have more of our heart…more acreage to break and work. May we allow him to do the deep work of preparing our hearts to receive the seed of the Gospel and then continue to work it so that through us he can bring forth the great harvest.

 Something Greater

The old adage is that “Records are made to be broken,” and for the most part, this seems to be true, particularly in the realm of athletics.  Perhaps one of the most well known record breaking performances was when Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt shattered both the 100m and 200m world records, which still stand more than 15 years later.  Bolt broke the record that many believed to be unbreakable, Michael Johnson’s 200m dash record.  When you watch something like that happen you know that you have just witnessed something special. 

Just this past month I have watched Gabel Steveson, heavyweight for the Minnesota Gopher’s wrestling team, compete against 3 different top 10 ranked wrestlers in the country.  It is really incredible seeing how this man makes these other great wrestlers look like they have rarely seen the mat.  He is really on a level of his own.  Even non-wrestling fans would be able to see how great of a wrestler this man really is. It is indeed something special to encounter.

It is often easy and exciting to see the greatness of athletes in the context of their sport.  Yet, what for some reason, we, as a society, don’t as readily notice the greatness of Jesus.  He is incredible!  Certainly, those who have experienced his immeasurable grace can speak to the sweet greatness of our Savior.  Yet, he is even greater than that!  In Matthew chapter 12, Jesus speaks of 3 incredible comparisons of his greatness.  Jesus reveals to those who are his followers, as well as his skeptics, that He is greater than the Temple, the Prophets and the Kings of old! 

Jesus is greater than the greatest kings of Israel including Solomon and all of his wisdom.  Jesus is greater than Jonah and the rest of the prophets who foretold of his coming.  Jesus is greater than the Temple…which housed the presence of God.  Jesus IS the presence of God! He IS God!

It is time to see Jesus for who he really is!  The greatest thing in the world…universe…and beyond!

Jesus is greater than everything!

 Foretaste

There are very few foods that I don’t like.  Two of my most prevalent dislikes are olives and sauerkraut.  There was a time however, that this list was significantly longer.  Prior to 2010, the list would have included squash and split pea soup.  Propelling even further back in time, to the years of my childhood, the queue would have contained; onions, tomatoes, oatmeal raisin cookies, guacamole, sour cream, yogurt, celery, salsa, green peppers, jalapeno peppers, boiled potatoes, Chinese food, egg rolls, mushrooms, chili and cornbread. 

I am pleased to share that each of these previous disliked items has now found a special place within my broadened palate. 

In order for each of these provisions to transfer from repulsion to revered, one shared act of commonality needed to take place. Each element required tasting.  Had I never tasted squash, or mushrooms, or guacamole, or cornbread I would never have discovered my affection for them.

In an interesting similarity, my grandfather spent the first 70+ years of his life avoiding pizza, simply because of his loathing of tomatoes.  It wasn’t until he found himself living in assisted living where he came to discover his love for pizza.

In Matthew 12:14-32, we find Jesus once again confronted by the religious leaders.  In this case he is being accused of being influences by Satan himself.  It is quite clear that the Pharisees and the scribes have already made up their mind about Jesus. They hated him and yet, supposedly loved God.  If only these people could taste and see that Jesus is who he says that he is.  He has come bringing healing and restoration.  He is offering a foretaste of the Kingdom of God that has both come and is to come and yet these leaders are refusing to take the taste.  They are refusing to experience the truth about Jesus.

May we come to experience the real Jesus, to taste and to see all of his goodness.

 Newton's Law

Legend has it that around 1665, a man named Isaac was hit in the head by an apple and everything changed. This proved to be the catalyst that he needed to formulate his infamous laws of gravity and motion.  Since hearing this story I have perpetually placed myself in positions to replicate his sudden onslaught of wisdom and smartness.  However, all I seem to get is more lumps and bruises on my head.  It is possible that I become even less intelligent with each encounter.  My thick head has been impacted by ice, rocks, tree branches, other heads, the ground, ladders, lumber and logs.

One of Mr. Newton’s infamous laws is that when an object is moving, it will keep moving in the direction that it is moving unless something stops or changes that objects movement.  I remember experiencing the reality of this law a number of years ago as I was pedaling my bicycle on an unfamiliar single track.  I am not a great rider, I don’t take unnecessary risks but I do enjoy pedaling hard and going fast.  In this particular case, I was traveling too quickly to read and comprehend the sign ahead.  I learned after the fact that the sign read, “Jump Ahead,” Which when translated meant, “You are going to regret this if you don’t stop now. You will bleed and hurt, for the love of all that is Holy, please stop your bike now and find another way.” I really wish I had learned to be a better reader in school.

But…I didn’t read the sign…and…I didn’t stop…and I did hurt and I did bleed and I did hit my head…but…I also had an epiphany.  If I had stopped, I could have taken the time necessary to assess the situation and make a wise decision accordingly.  I was reminded of this epiphany this week, as I read Matthew 11:28-12:14.  Here we find that immediately after Jesus offers rest to those who come to him, He is confronted by religious leaders because of his disregard for the “Sabbath.”

The paradox strikes me.  Here Jesus is inviting people to rest and the religious leaders are criticizing him for not resting.  Perhaps, what the religious leaders don’t realize is that they are too busy pedaling their bikes toward the detriment of an injury promising jump to realize that they are not resting at all.  They are in fact heading in the wrong direction to their own demise.  It seems clear to me that Jesus is restoring rest.

I wonder, perhaps it is from a place of rest where we can truly know the next direction that God has for our lives.

May we come to find rest in the Rest Giver.

 What does it take?

 

As a child I was overworked.  My parents made me do practically everything around the house.  It was my job to clean my room, haul firewood into the house, feed and water the pigs, weed the garden, dry and put away the supper dishes, take out the garbage, feed the dog and anything else my parents assigned, which included just about everything.  Sure, my older brother helped…if you actually call shaking your face, day dreaming and laughing, help. 

I remember sitting at home in front of the television enjoying a well deserved break from all of my back breaking labor, while my mother was cooking up supper and my dad was shoveling 28 inches of snow off of the roof.  Just as I was finding a moment to breathe, my mother began barking orders for me to set the table while at the same time my dad burst into the house and insisted that I add more wood to the furnace.  Do you see what I mean? OVERWORKED!!

I grudgingly left my beloved Hogan’s Heroes and told my older brother that Mom wanted him to set the table and my little brother that Dad wanted him to  add wood to the furnace.  I then sat back down to watch more of Sergeant Schultz…feeling completely exhausted. 

I remember bringing this to the attention of my parents during one particularly laborious Saturday afternoon.  “Ugh…I can’t wait until I have my own kids so I can make THEM do all the work!”

These filled both of my parents with a great deal of mirth.  So much so in fact that supper was late because my mother could not stop laughing enough to get the ground burger into the pan let alone on my bun. 

I have taken the liberty of instilling this same work ethic into my own children.  They too have had to learn to do their own chores.  My children, however, have it so much easier.  For example, as opposed to having to wash and dry the dishes by hand, all they are required to do is empty “their” portion of the dishwasher.  Yet, this simple task has, at times, proven to be too laborious for my offspring.  One of my sweet laborers, who had been merely assigned to put the flatware away at the completion of each wash cycle, deemed it too extreme and defaulted to dumping the flatware into the drawer entirely unsorted, rather than neatly away as required.

After emphasizing my desired outcome, I expected the silverware drawer to look different.  Yet, day after day it looked as if an earthquake has struck the utensil drawer.  Even after expressing my exasperation and frustration…still no change. Finally, with veins protruding from my forehead I asked, “Seriously! What does it take? What does it take to get you to put knives where the knives belong…and the spoons where the spoons belong…etc!!.”

“I don’t know” She said.

“How about this!  For every fork that is out of place, you pay me $1.  For every knife…$1, and for every spoon $1!

“What!? One dollar for each! I can’t afford that!”

“Exactly! So please, take the extra time and put it away right! It will be like you are making money!”

I am please to say that to this day, our flatware drawer has never looked better!

When we encounter the portion of scripture found in Matthew 11:16-28, we find a similar question evidenced.  Jesus speaks of his works and miracles in the cities where he has been ministering and in a sense is asking the question, “What does it take? What does it take for you to believe and repent?”

What about us?  What would it take for us to believe in Jesus?  What would it take to trust him with everything?

It is a good question to ask…and an even better question to find the answer to. 

May we come to believe and trust in all that Jesus has to offer.

 Excpectations Gap

I expected to post this sooner. But then again I expected the weatherman to be wrong…or right…which he was I guess neither and both.  Before my son is slated to head off to his second semester of college tomorrow and we decided to have one last hurrah ice fishing up north.  Additionally, I expected the fishing to be decent, with crappies practically jumping out of my hole and into my bucket.

Truth be told my expectations were left unachieved.  The bite was slow and the snow forecast was not as proclaimed.  After not catching a limit of crappies, we loaded up our equipment and pointed the truck toward home. 

We encountered more snow than expected…earlier than expected…and more traffic than expected.  It was an absolute mess! What could potentially take an hour and 15 minutes, our manic drive home took nearly 3 hours. 

To top it off, I expected my truck heater to keep the windshield clear of ice and water.  No such luck. 

Life is full of expectations that are not fulfilled in the way that we anticipated.  Whether it be marriage, parenting, Vikings games or weather forecasts…our expectations are rarely fulfilled as we…well…expect.

We find that expectations of Jesus are often different from the reality that we experience.  As we know, God’s ways are not our ways.  In Matthew 11:1-19, we find that Jesus confronts this “expectations gap.”  People had expectations of who Jesus was and what he came to do, including John the Baptist. 

May we come to see the reality of who Jesus really is…not who we “want” him to be…but who he really is!

 Unfriended

I recently came to a realization and honestly, I am not sure how I feel about it.  I just became aware that I have absolutely ZERO Facebook friends. This revelation made me sad.  I believe that most people have at least one Facebook friend, but here I am…with none.  I brought this problem to the attention of my wife.

“Sarah, I don’t have any Facebook friends.”

“I know that.” She said.

“I feel sad about this.”

“Look at the bright side…since you do not have any Facebook friends, you don’t have to worry about ever being ‘unfriended.” 

“Well, don’t you feel bad for me and stuff?”

“I feel bad for you that you are concerned that you don’t have any Facebook friends.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you don’t HAVE a Facebook account.”

It is possible that part of that conversation is imaginary, yet something within me is indeed wrestling with this reality of friendship.  I remember my first experience of being “unfriended.” 

The event took place in my 1^st grade classroom and it preceded both Facebook and Mark Zuckerberg. One morning Johnny approached me and asked if I would be his friend.  I saw no problem with this so I readily agreed. 

“Sure Johnny.”

“Great! Now that we are friends, you can’t be friends with Eric anymore.”

“Huh?! Why not?”

“Because…that’s the way it is. If you want to be friends, then you can’t be friends with Eric.”

I must admit, that even in 1^st grade this seemed very Jr. High, though it would be several years before I would come to realize the irony. 

After being given no other rationale to the preposterous protocol, I went about my day, only to find Johnny had passed me a note via the hands of Lucinda.  I read the note which pronounced that I had just been unfriended by Johnny for violating rule 103b sub paragraph 3.4 stating that “Frienship with Johnny shall terminate where-in a friendly conversation is ensued toward or in relationship with Eric.”

“Huh,” I thought, and came to realize that my half day friendship with Johnny had ended before it ever really got started.

As I reflect on this past event, it is obvious that the invitation was anything but genuine.  To this day I still have no concept as to what motivated the brief, but fake friendship. But I do know this; Johnny was never interested in really being friends. It is clear that there were ulterior motives lurking among the invitation for friendship.

Likewise, our thoughts, words and actions as a follower of Christ can appear genuine on the outside, but may be far too often laced with selfish motivations.  Perhaps where these expressions generate from is the real indicator to our beliefs…after all, Jesus himself said, out of the heart the mouth speaks. 

Matthew 10:1-42, is an extensive passage, where Jesus gives instruction and reveals expectations to the 12 disciples as he sends them out.  I am struck by the concluding moment, where Jesus invites them to offer up a “cup  of cold water” to the least of ones they may meet. 

Is it really about the water?  I don’t think so.  I think it is about the heart behind the water. 

May the testimony of a cup of cold water reveal the Christ who has changed our hearts that offer it.