You Jump, I Jump.

Last week, I was sitting at home flipping through the channels when I happened upon Titanic. I’d seen it before, but forever the hopeless romantic, I thought I would subject myself to the horror of a sinking boat to get my love fix for the month. About an hour in I was inebriated with the thought of love against all odds. I reveled in the notion that a woman of noble means would leave everything behind for a life with the man she loved. She was a woman after my own heart. But I was blown away when she had the opportunity to get off of the sinking boat, by way of a life boat, but instead choose to literally claw her way off of the boat (I still can’t get the image out of my mind)back to the arms of the man she loved. “You jump, I jump,” she said. Which essentially boiled down to live or die, we’re in this thing together.

The depth of that kind of love stuck with me.  After the movie was over, I called a couple of my married friends and asked them, if faced with the same decision, would they make the same choice. Both emphatically replied, “Of course!” Their responses got me to swooning.  “I want a love like that,” I said. I want that “I can’t live without you love.” I want someone to claw their way to their peril, if getting away safely meant being without me.  It’s a romantic and fanciful notion.  I mean really, how many people wait for that kind of love in their lives… Popular or not, that’s what I’m looking for. No wonder I am still single. J

What makes that kind of love so extraordinary is the element of sacrifice. Ordinarily discomfort and suffering doesn’t appeal to me, as I am sure is the case with most human beings. We run from it. In fact, we don’t even like to be around when people are talking about the suffering of others. We treat it like a highly contagious disease that should we be exposed to the suffering of others, we might catch it. Perhaps that’s why far too few people visit the sick in the hospitals, or tend to the needs of the elderly and the poor.  But real love, the kind that really moves mountains is steeped in sacrifice.  

Often when thinking about the Christian life we love to fixate on the sacrifice of Christ. The thought of him dying in our place elicits tears on cue every time, but sacrifice and suffering was not for Jesus to endure alone. Part of the Christian life is sharing not only in the glory of Christ, but his suffering as well.  Matt 9:23 says, “If any many would be my disciple he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me." Following Jesus definitely means following the leading of His spirit in all things in daily life. Its turning left when he says turn left. It’s feeding the hungry, its clothing the naked, but it’s also following him into those things that may cause you to suffer. It’s living a life before those who have yet to experience Christ that speaks the Gospel without words, even when you might be ridiculed, laughed at or rejected. 

When we look at the Bible, those people who really denied themselves and took up their cross to follow Jesus did not have the bright shiny happy ending that many modern day churches espouse. Paul didn’t get an E Class Benz and a house on a hill. Peter didn’t get a lucrative business and sell millions of copies of Thrice Denied, Thrice Restored. From a temporal or worldly perspective, their lives ended pretty horrifically. But they were content, and even overjoyed to lay down their lives and suffer for Christ because God was their all in all. God was their reason for being. He was the love of their lives. While comfort and promises of an easy life were in the “life boat,” God was still on the sinking ship, and while their lives would be saved if they chose the easy way out, like Kate Winslett’s character, they clawed, in other words aggressively fought, their way off of the life boat, because the love of God and His presence were too great to live without. 

If placed in the same situation, a sinking boat with God on it, or a life boat that sailed further and further away from his presence, what would you chose? Sure, on a good day we are willing to give up our stuff for God, our money, our things, but when it becomes a question of our very lives, what would your decision be. Would you claw your way out of the immediate solution to remain connected to the eternal solution? I pray that we all experience a love for God so big that our response will always be, “ Lord, You jump, I jump.”

Ever Higher

CB

Better than Chocolate

During the school year I always pass by the Office of the Center for Reconciliation and say hi. I do this in part because I enjoy the staff in there, but mostly because of the tasty treats the Administrative Assistant keeps on her desk. It’s an exercise in Christian love, because no matter how few are left, she always yields them to visiting friends freely. What’s great is throughout a given week the candy will change, so you’re always in for a surprise, but she is loyal to a chocolate theme, so you know you’re never be disappointed.

Such is the case with the administrative assistant at the church I am, currently interning with. While she doesn’t keep candy on her desk, her name is Candi, and boy does she ever keep me coming back for more. Every time I visit her office, which is way too frequently, she always has a surprise for me. Sometimes it’s a book we’ve discussed, other times, a sermon series on CD, another time a podcast from an amazing witness of Christ, or anecdote that keeps the thought of my future husband alive in my mind.. It’s always something new with that Candi, and she never leaves me disappointed. Comparable to the beloved admin in CFR whose theme was chocolate, Candi’s theme is encouragement, with the chewy nougat of the love of Christ at the center.

If you’ve been reading since the beginning of the summer, you know that I had been having some difficulty with the quiet and stillness of a summer in Durham. This city girl is used to having lots of distractions to tickle her fancy. My naturally restless nature was being charged by God to slow down and seek Him. Well in the midst of negotiating that stillness, Candi has been that spring of fresh water in the desert that God promises He will provide. I say this, because she ministers to every part of me, in so many ways and desires nothing in return. Have you ever had someone like that in your life? The other day, while thinking through the food with which she’s fed me, the knowledge with which she has filled me, the love with which she surrounds me, the prayers with which she has covered me and the hope with which that she inspires me, I was convinced she is an angel sent by God. Lets face it; life can be a difficult road, and the Word promises that God will send relief.

I am currently in a season of pruning - pruning that’s difficult. God is taking buds of my life that have grown and that I thought were just fine, and he’s cutting them off for the sake of more fruitfulness. To boot, God is telling me I must be still while He does it - and we all know I don’t handle stillness well. But in His mercy and His great provision as Psalm 91 says He has given his angels charge over me. I’m almost positive Candi’s an angel. Though I am at the church to teach and to preach, God in his infinite wisdom and humility has given the church secretary charge over me, and its one of the biggest blessings I have has in a long while.

As I was thinking about her angelic assignment, I called out to her asking, “Candi is your name short for something?” I love to find out the meaning of peoples names. I am sure that it speaks to the character of a person. I have been looking up names for years - Call it a pass time of mine. Surely the lengthier version of her name would be a clue. She runs over to my office and says yes, it’s short for Candle… Candle Ray. As the words left her lips, a voice in my head said, “A candle to light your way.” I knew it. Whether she knows it or not she is an angel to me in this season, and a friend I will not soon let go of. I mean imagine a summer of all you can eat Snickers bars and then quitting cold turkey. Oh no, whether she likes it or not I am going to be around, digging into the wealth of her love and wisdom, like I do the candy dish at CFR; because fellowship with her is sweeter than skittles and peanut butter cups put together - and that's saying a whole bunch!

Ever Higher

CB

Evangelism Inside the Margins

Mark 12: 41-44 Luke 18:18-35

If you encountered a woman shabbily dressed and clearly in need standing next to a rich, upstanding member of the community, who would you share The Gospel with first? We live in an age where The Prosperity Gospel runs rampant, insidiously corrupting the thinking of well intentioned Christians everywhere. Many of us have accepted the notion that economically depressed is synonymous with spiritually dysfunctional. This ideology motivates many of us to leave our immediate neighborhoods, and cross over into the more dilapidated areas of our cities to tend to the spiritual needs of poor people, who have no money, and therefore no Jesus.

When we arrive, ready to evangelize, we find that the natives of the neighborhood we have come to save effortlessly enter into prayer, as comfortable as an immigrant who suddenly finds themselves in conversation in their homeland. The scriptures we fumble to find as we flip through our bibles, they recite like the chorus to their favorite song. The Jesus we intended to bring to those rejected and marginalized by this world, is present and thriving, demonstrated not in lives without financial obstacles, but heartfelt praise that God had provided for another day. 

Surely we can never be overly concerned about the poor, but where do our assumptions and fascination with a lack of excess leave the people we pass by, on our way those we assume in greater need of a savior? The successful man, his fancy car, his designer suit and his empty soul, the accomplished female doctor, with 3 degrees and a beautiful family and an imminent breakdown, and the average everyday student, complete with ipod and hundred dollar jeans who has never been told about God’s awesome plan of salvation are left behind because in our society the health of a person’s soul is determined by their ability to project fiscal stability. Meanwhile, the very things that indicate prosperity serve as obstacles to surrendering one’s life to God. 

The earlier mentioned, shabbily dressed woman, clearly in need represents the widow with two mites; a woman who had very little, but had such faith and gratitude for God that she was willing to give God everything. The rich upstanding man represents the rich young ruler whose love of and dependence on things thwarted his fellowship with Christ. Both stories demonstrate that class has no bearing on who is or is not in relationship with God. Our neighbors, those we pass in the halls, those we ride on the bus with, those we see in the supermarket, the mall, and even the Great Hall may have much bread to eat, yet we ignore the absence of the Living Bread in their lives. In some cases their yearning is so suppressed by “things” they are unaware that there is a greater truth to discover. We also fail to share because it is easier to share Christ with “the victim” than our peers.  No matter the case, as Christians we must remember our responsibility to go into all the world – not just the worn down parts- and make disciples of men and women. Souls know no wealth, but the saving power of Christ. Who will you make rich today?

The Rains

Like a fire hydrant shut down by the police in the hot summer months,
The floods of his passion are gone,
And the drops that once caressed now evaporate in the stale dryness of discomfort with no relief.
She lives in the stifling heat of that day, thirsty and parched for weeks now,
And it will not rain,
And she fears it never will.


Foolishly, she sits…

Longing anxiously on the corner for the kiddies to return in a moment of mischief and boldness, and free the hydrant’s cooling wetness, that it might tickle her face with its mist,
Drench her dress til it drips,
That her body might delight in the waters gushing charms.
But these boys are fickle and kickball and cars and the new slide at the local pool currently have their affections.
There is no telling when or if they might remember the way they danced in the streets those Saturdays before.

So, she sits –

Her dress of pinks and oranges and that bold green stripe becomes soiled from the grime of the curb, 3 steps from the sewer, as she watches as the puddles of past pleasure slip busily away, oily and murky. The colors in its streams, defiantly mocking the wonder that she could now only faintly feel in her heart.

Deep in her despair the heavens’ whispers wash over her soul,
Wooing her with songs of assurance that His waters always return.
Sometimes in gentle drops, other times steady beats and occasionally down pours that last for days.
And the soil drinks in the waters greedily, anxious to achieve its end.
The yearning of new life finally permitted to blossom.

This relief though not routine is reliable nonetheless.
Steadfast and faithful and like those memories she’d gathered to ponder on while she mourned,
These drops too could be assembled and harnessed, so that she might drink and soak in its gifts, even on the days it does not come.


“Look to the heavens,” whispers the wind,

“For the rains will never cease.”

“My waters will never leave you thirsty.”