Let there be light

 

It is a challenge to engage the darkness of this world…especially when it seems to continue to grow in its darkness.  It feels as if we encounter, more hate, more violence, more selfishness, more apathy, more crime, more road rage and more Packer fans each day.  It is even difficult to go throughout a day without encountering the darkness of mankind in some way or another.  Though this appears to be a growing phenomenon, it is a truth that has existed for generations…even centuries.

When I was in college I was fortunate enough to find employment as a delivery driver at a local Pizza Hut.  I had been working at the restaurant for several months and had managed to memorize the delivery area map.  This was an essential skill as it enabled me to deliver as many pizzas as possible in as little time as possible.  Additionally, I had invested in a 10 million candle power spotlight.  These were the pre-cell phone and gps days, so the spotlight was invaluable as it empowered me to find the house numbers on those dark streets, lanes, courts and cul-de-sacs. The quicker I could make a delivery the quicker I could move onto the next one, which would always end in more cash in my pockets and to a college student, little was more important.   

As I would approach the dark street, I would flip on the powerful spotlight and light up the neighborhood, shining from home to home looking for the corresponding house number associated with  the address of the order.  You could always tell the homes of “suspect activity.”  When the spotlight would shine through their window…the interior lights would go out and the occupants within would dash out of the home and take off running…thinking that my spotlight was coming from the local fuzz. This didn’t concern me…unless of course the delivery address happened to be the now vacant home of lawless young people.

There came one night, as I was driving home from my late night shift, where I was sitting at a stoplight in my 1981 Plymouth Grand Fury.  The car happened to be a former highway patrol car with a 318ci engine and a 4 barrel carburetor resting atop.  The car looked pathetic, but it had plenty of lively ponies remaining under the hood.  A large jacked up pickup truck pulled up next to me in the right hand turn only lane.  However…the truck did not turn.  It soon became obvious that the driver was not intending to turn, but rather to ILLEGALLY, go straight and get in front of me!  “HOW DARE HE!?” I thought, “NOT TODAY!” I whispered under my breath.  The light turned green and both he and I floored our respective accelerators.  I am proud to say that my spunky yet boxy Mopar left him behind to wallow in his “too big for his ego” pickup truck.  As the street narrowed he was eventually begrudgingly forced to merge into the proper lane behind me.  He made his irritation known by turning his bright lights on and blaring into my car from the back window.  I lifted my MaxiMillion 10 million candle power spotlight…pointed it out my back window…flipped it on and cried out, “LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!” His lights dimmed and he backed off…way off.

For years I have enjoyed that story and even found pride in my rusty but trust automobile, spotlight and my creative response. As I have aged, I have become aware of how prideful and dangerous my stunt really was.  Even more so, I have been confronted with a parallel that I had never considered before.  As a follower of Christ I have been given a light…THE light, within me.  I am called to shine that light.  Yet, sometimes I don’t think that I have done well at shining that light in a loving and effective way.  Perhaps I have even at times used my light as a weapon or have shone that light in aggressive ways.  The light of the Gospel is beautifully designed to shine into the darkness from hearts that have been transformed by the Holy Spirit.  Paul reveals this reality in 2 Corinthians 4:1-6. 

May we come to invite the Spirit to give us that heart of flesh and to shine his light into the darkness as an act of love, empowered by His Spirit.

 Thoughts

 

Sometimes I am confounded by thoughts.  For example…do you ever wonder………?

Do you see what I mean?

The fact is that no two people think exactly alike. I know this because I am married and Sarah has not come to see things my way…yet.  Despite this, we all share the undeniable truth that we all…think.  Here is a deep thought.  Have you ever considered that maybe you are the only one who sees the color blue as really blue and everyone else sees it as pink, but they have been taught that pink is blue?

If you ever ask someone, “What are you thinking?,” to which they reply, “Nothing.” You know that person is a liar, because technically and scientifically our brains never stop thinking…except perhaps for boys between the ages of 12-19. 

There are times when my thoughts consume me, even paralyze me.  Just the other night, I woke up in a panic at 3:30 AM with the thought that I had left the grill on from the previous night’s pork chop supper.  With my heart racing, I couldn’t shake the thought.  Finally, I walked out onto the deck to check the grill.  It was off…whew…but the shed door was open.  So…I went back to bed without closing the shed door.

During my third year of college I noticed a girl during the first week of classes.  Every day afterward my mind was bent on wanting to get to know her more.  I would look for her in the dining center, in the hallways and in the library.  Interestingly, the library was the hotspot, as she was a 4.0 student with summa cum laude accolades.  Finally, in February…six month later, I got the nerve to ask her out.  I took her to a coffee shop.  Strategically, I selected a coffee shop which happened to be on the opposite side of the twin cities, in effort to gain as much time with her as I could. It was an incredible evening.  She was beautiful, clever, funny, sensitive, honorable and humble.  She was everything that I wanted to be, but was not.  I remember thinking, as I dropped her off at her dorm room, “I want to do that again.” I went right up to my own room and called my dad. 

“Hello.” He said as he answered.

“Dad!, I have met the ONE!” and I began to tell him all about her.

I could barely sleep that night as my thoughts continued to return to the coffee shop and the girl next to me.  Since that day, she has continued to be on my mind.  Years later, I learned of her own response to that first night.  She had gone into her room and said to her roommates, “Wow! That guy can be normal!”

She too had trouble sleeping.

She was on my mind and I was on her mind.  That is still true today.

This is a small picture of what we find in Malachi 3:13-4:6.  Here we find that those who love the Lord will have God on their mind.  Likewise we see that we are on God’s mind.  I am reminded of Psalm 8:4, “What is man that you are mindful of him…that you care for him.”  It is incredible to consider…that God’s thoughts are consumed with us! YOU and ME!

May our thoughts dwell on the grace and mercy of the Lord God almighty, knowing that his mind is also on us! 

 Trust

I climbed the 5 wooden steps, each tread crafted by an inverted split log, leaving the flat face as a sturdy surface to ascend to the platform deck.  Upon reaching the platform, I made my way to the edge and looked down the nearly 36 inches below, where 12 of my college classmates stood waiting…each one wearing a sinister grin. 

“Now Ryan, it’s your turn, Ha ha. You need to turn around with your feet on the edge of the platform and fall backwards.  We will catch you.  You need to trust us. This is a trust exercise and it is important that we all trust one another…so anytime you are ready…go ahead…anytime now…”

My eyebrows scrunched and concern covered my face as I reflected on some of the events of the past few weeks. I saw Sally below me and remembered what I had just said to her last Sunday after the Vikings had destroyed her beloved Packers, “Wow! You must be ashamed of being from Wisconsin!  Ha ha, the only good thing coming out of Wisconsin is I-94! Bwaaa ha ha.” I am certain that I saw her yellow eyes suddenly flash red as vengeful thoughts filled her mind.

I wonder if George knew that I was the one who had taken his towel and clothes from the shower room yesterday morning.  His menacing smirk told me that he did.

My roommate, Paulie, also stood below looking up at me with his blonde curly haired mullet atop of a scornful face that could melt candle wax. “Yikes!” I thought, “He knows that I ate the rest of his Oreos.”

“Now Ryan, there is no need for you to not trust us…just fall back and we will catch you!”

Certainly, my college professor, Mr. Watzizname, had no idea of my long laundry list of sins.

I swallowed hard and threw myself back believing that today was as good of a day as any to die.

I didn’t die.  My classmates did catch me…and then…it seemed…decided to drop me the remaining 12 inches to the hard dirt floor.

“There, you see Ryan, you can trust us.” My professor encouraged.

“I’m next!” Cried Jimmy. Although no one heard him. 

The next thing we knew is that Jimmy, all 300 lbs of him, was flying through the air, heading quickly to the ground with arms flung to his sides like an eagle. My fellow students did what any sane person would do when seeing a giant mass plummeting towards the earth. They moved out of its path.  I on the other hand was unable to move as I still stood in the middle of the pack from my own “Trust Fall.”  I am sorry to say that I was unable to catch Jimmy…I was however…able to break Jimmy’s fall.  He bounced off of me and back onto his feet and exclaimed, “Wow! That was cool! Who’s next?” while I remained still, lying in the dirt, ribs aching, and not breathing.

I have come to find that trust is one of the most difficult things to do.  If William Tell’s son had not been forced to stand tethered to the pole with an apple on his head…would he have stayed there while his father released the arrow?  I highly doubt it!

Yet, despite the incredibly long list of untrustworthy things in this world, I believe that I have found something that is rock solid.  In fact, the Lord reveals this very truth in Malachi 2:17-3:12.  Here we find the most solid and trustworthy truth.  God NEVER changes.  He can always be trusted.  He has never lied. He has never broken a promise. He has always done what he says that he will do…AND he says that we can trust him.  He invites us to trust him and to put our faith in him. 

I believe Him, and I am learning to put my trust in Him.  Will you?

 Affection

After dropping my oldest daughter off to college last weekend, my mind has been continually recalling a tidal wave of memories from my own days of institutional education.  Some of these lessons even occurred within the confines of the college classrooms. While other lessons were learned in the various realms of dorm rooms, hallways, dinning centers, roof tops, elevator shafts, “borrowed” college vehicles, professors homes…(both invited and uninvited), college auto shops, storage garages, the college mail room and other allowed and forbidden spaces.

I am astounded by the sheer number of laughs and memories that have come to mind, which I recall with such affection.  As I consider the fondness of these memories, I wonder what it is about them that draws my affection.  I have reached a conclusion.  It seems that each of these fond memories share a common factor…they are/were all shared experiences.  In some way or another, the affection for the memory is due to the fact that community was expressed in the memory.

For example, one fond memory is a simple time when I invited my, would be wife, (though she was clueless at the time,) up to my dorm room (open dorm night), for iced tea and chocolate.  It was a terrible combination but it is all I had to offer.  I remember with affection the savory sweet time of tea, chocolate, and conversation.

There were a few occasions when I made my way to the mail room to check my usually empty college mailbox that I was surprised to discover that I had a package waiting for me!  These are particularly fond memories.  Some of the most notable packages that I received were from my mother.  Her packages were always filled with the wonderful necessities of college life, homemade lefse and cookies, note cards and ramen noodles.  She always gave me enough to share…though I seldom did. 

It warms my heart even now to think about those packages, as they are to me a practical display of my mother’s affection.

I have come to believe that we all desire not only love…but also affection.  Certainly they go hand in hand. But let’s be honest, how many of us can say that we truly feel affection for the enemy that we are called to love?  It is like the difference between choosing to love a difficult person and actually finding yourself “liking” that person.

In Malachi 2:1-16, we will find God inviting people into an affectionate relationship.  He is not calling and demanding a bunch of robots to respond.  He is beckoning relational people to step into an affectionate relationship with Him, His Word and with each other.

May we come to see the deep affection that God has for each of us and be drawn to embrace the affectionate relationship with our Creator and Savior.

Genuine

We dropped off our firstborn child at college yesterday.  I knew that it would be a challenge for Sarah, but I did not know how difficult it would be for me.  Days before, I had been trying to prepare Sarah for the coming challenges with words of encouragement and hope. 

“Hey Sarah! When ‘Hurricane Hannah,’ is gone at college, think of how much easier it will be to keep the house clean!”

“Oh, don’t you pretend that you are going to be all happy,” she said, “You are going to miss her and you will probably even breakdown and cry.”

“Who me?,” I defended, “No way…I am a rock!”

“I would say that you are more like a stump…a rotting, crumbly, stump stuck in the woods weeping and oozing with fungus growing out your sides.”  (Sarah did not say these words…but her blue eyes clearly etched her feelings into my mind).

“I guess we will see,” I replied smugly.

We arrived to the college before 10:00 a.m. and after several hours of work I slumped to a sofa in the lounge and allowed beads of my sweat to run off my head and settle onto the faux-leather seat without caring.

“We need you to put together Hannah’s shower shelf, her shoe shelf, and then go shopping and buy some more shelves and some hooks to hang her hammock.”

“Hammock! What does she need a hammock for, doesn’t she have a bed?”

“She also brought a hammock.”

“Great Scott! Next you are going to tell me that she brought a referee’s shirt and a whistle.”

“The shirt…no…the whistle…yes.”

I rose from the now slippery sofa and did as I was told.

As the day went on, my mind would wonder back to the little girl I remembered from the past 18 years.  Emotion would begin to well up in my throat…and I would press it back down as quickly as I could to remain the sturdy rock that I claimed to be. 

After several more hours of work we were coming close to being done.

“Where are we going to put the whistle?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll find a place for it,” I proclaimed, and slid it into my pocket. “There…done!  Bye Bye!”

“Ryan, we are not leaving yet! We have a meeting for parents and students and then we have supper and then the farewell dessert.”

The longer the day lingered the more difficult it was for me to keep the water works at bay.

There came a moment during supper while I was gently scratching Hannah’s back, where suddenly she was once again the 3 year old tight-curly haired, gum chewing toddler singing “These Feet.” Water erupted from my eyes like a garden hose, which I quickly dabbed away, but the water kept coming…so I kept dabbing.  I dabbed so vigorously that I began to draw comical looks from those around me. 

“Good,” I thought, “I am being amusing...this will help distract me from my emotion.”

When the meal and the dessert finished, we escorted Hannah back to her dorm.  It was time to say good bye.  My throat suddenly shrunk, and I began to choke as I said, “I have a little something for you Hannah,” but sounded like “A ha e eigt umig au u ahah.”

I slipped a large bag of Peanut M&M’s into her hands, hugged her and blubbered, “I love you, I am proud of you…Good bye. Ok everyone, get into the car.” My eyes were blinded with tears and I smashed my knee into the vehicle as I tried to scramble in before any bystanders would see me in my authentic mess.

The rest of the family began crying too.  “Look at them…they can’t even hold back their tears,” I thought. “Let’s go girls…enough crying it’s time to go!”

“Oh stop!, you were crying too!” Sarah retorted.

“Only because I gave away a big bag of Peanut M&M’s…you don’t know how difficult that is!”

I have to level with you.  My tears and my emotions were real.  They were genuine. My love for Hannah is incredibly genuine.  It always has been.  I remember the very first day that I set my eyes on her and held her.  She looked right back at me with her newborn eyes, and then I planted a kiss on her forehead. It was a genuine act of love, just as genuine as that gift of the candy.  I could feel these acts coming from the depths of my soul as an expression of deep love and emotion.

In Malachi 1:6-14, we find God calling His people to be authentic, real and genuine, in their worship of Him.  He knows their deeds, and their deeds are but mere empty actions.  They are simple tasks attempting to appease the God of love.  God doesn’t want their meaningless sacrifice…he wants their love…he wants their authentic love and their genuine worship.

May we resist the stalwart efforts of appearing to have it all together and open ourselves to a real, genuine and authentic love and worship of the God of love!

 The Little Bother

“Oh! NOT FAIR! Why does he get to stay up past 10:00? We never got to do that when we were his age!” I cried to my father.

To which he flatly replied, “Well, that’s because we love him more.”

My mouth dropped open in astonishment and readied myself to speak…but nothing came out.  Certainly, I had wondered if my parents loved my siblings more than me, as it was obvious that I was the victim of unfair treatment for years.  Yet, I couldn’t figure out as to why that could be the case.  My little “bother” was nothing but a nose-twitching pain in the neck.  Every time I looked at him I wanted to punch him in the face.  I couldn’t understand why my parents wouldn’t naturally feel the same way.  It seemed obvious to me and I was convinced that everyone must secretly feel that way. 

I remember when he was 5 years old.  My parents chose not to start him in kindergarten and keep him home from school for one more year.  I took this as more evidence that he was too dumb for school.  I have always thought of myself as being more intelligent that my little “bother”.  It didn’t matter that he received nearly straight A’s all through school.  I was still smarter.  It didn’t matter that the teachers all thought that he was a perfect little angel.  I knew better…he was the little bother. 

Even today, I am smarter.  Sure he has a PhD and wears a white coat to work.  Yes…he can understand the complexities of the human genome.  Yet, it is I who knows where his GI Joe action figure was hidden…and still lies…snuggly in the basement wall secretly behind the drywall.    

Considering all of my own personal feelings of superiority, it is no wonder that my dad’s words took me by surprise. Yet…the words HAD BEEN spoken. 

“Well, it’s still not fair!” I finally retorted.

I know that I am not alone in these feelings.  I hear some of the same phrases coming from my own children like a constant drip from a leaky faucet. 

“Not fair! Why do I ALWAYS have to be the one to walk the dog?”

“You don’t…now go walk the dog.”

“Not fair! Why am I ALWAYS the one who gets into trouble?”

“Because you are ALWAYS the one who is doing something wrong.”

“Not fair! Why don’t I get any ice cream?”

“Because I paid for it…and I ate it all.”

“Not fair! Why doesn’t Erica ever get into trouble?”

“Because, we love her more.”

Even my wife, Sarah, has experienced the “not fairs.”  Recently she was sorting through a box of papers that her mother had kept from her childhood.  As she was reading through some of the old articles and notes, she came across a brief message that had been written to her parents.  “Nobody loves me…TRUE!”

As much as it likely pains my little “bother,” my parents did love me.  In fact, it is quite possible that they even loved ME more.  I love my children more than anything.  Sarah’s parents loved her…even in the midst of the note.  Yet, we often fall into our own self absorption and cannot see the truth that exists right in front of us.  I find it ironic…that in an act of cherished “love,” Sarah’s parents kept that little note of sorrow. 

The book of Malachi reveals the truth of the unconditional love of God.  In this incredible book we will see the patient and unending love that God has for us…even when we don’t see it.  Like the keeping of the note in a box, Malachi 1:1-5 reveals the evidence of the love of God. 

May you be assured that God loves you…and God love me! 

What do you think of that Little Bother?

 True or False

I remember sitting in my Principles of Biblical Interpretations class in college.  Dr. Lanpher, being true to form, began his Monday morning class as he did all of his Monday morning classes…with a single question pop quiz.  Each quiz was based off of the assigned reading from the previous class.  In this case the one question pop quiz consisted of…“True of False…The Bible contains the actual words of Jesus.”

Score! This was a no brainer! The answer was so simple…of course it was true…it had to be true.  Just then, it occurred to me…it seemed too simple.  The question lingered with the rotten odor of the answer seems to obvious smell. The confidence I held just a moment ago began to ebb away as I began to ponder the possibility…could it be false?  “It must be false!,” I concluded, “Why else would he as the question THAT way?”

Yet, It had to be true.  The Bible is the Word of God…and the words of Jesus are in the Bible…“It must be true,” I countered to myself. 

“Put your one word answer on your paper…PLEASE ensure that your name is clearly printed on your paper and turn it in.”

“Wait!” Several students exclaimed from around the room, “I’m not finished!”

“What is so difficult?” Dr. Lanpher asked. “It is either True or it is False…write one word on your paper and turn it in.”

Oh! How I wished that I had read the chapter! My pen shook as I sat there…believing that he wanted each student to write “false” on their paper and turn it in.  But I couldn’t do it!! It went against everything I have believed and held onto when it came to the inherency of scripture.  I…I…I wrote TRUE on my paper and turned it in.”

After the quiz papers had been collected, Dr. Lanpher asked, “All right students…what is the answer.”

Nearly the entire class echoed together with a resounding, “True!”

“False,” He said.

“What! How can that be?,” several students rebutted.

Dr. Lanpher replied, “The New Testament was written in Greek…and Jesus spoke Aramaic…it is impossible for the Bible to contain the exact words of Jesus.”

“THAT IS A TRICK QUESTION!” Shouted my Hmong friend Vu Yang.

“This is college Vu.” was Dr. Lanpher’s curt response. 

It strikes me as interesting, as to how I was holding to a belief that was not as substantiated as I had previously thought.  Did the Gospel message change? NO! Did the inherency of scripture change? Absolutely NOT! It was I who was deceived…by…myself.  The message of Christ hadn’t changed…just what I “thought” that I knew about it.  What I believe is not what truly matters. What is TRUE is what really matters.  Yet, we often believe things that are not true.

It is so easy for humans to be deceived and to deceive ourselves.    

Paul challenges us to be careful of this very thing…self deception.  As we have read the book of Galatians we have found that Jews had been deceived.  False teachers had been deceived…and were deceiving others.  Gentile believers had been deceived. Paul challenges every believer to NOT be deceived.

If humans are so easily deceived…how can we avoid it?  I think that we can find the answer in Galatians 6:14, where Paul says, “May I never boast in anything…but in the Cross of Christ.”  I think that is it. We can easily be deceived into believing in and boasting about every kind of crazy thing in life.  But, if we can keep the Cross of Christ before us…and boast in that, then I think we can learn to trust the Spirit to guide us into all truth.  Let us therefore keep our eyes on Christ and the Cross, so as to not be deceived.