Grand Entrance

My Day with Jesus

I enjoy a good entrance.

In college, I was part of the Southern Adventist University Symphony Orchestra, playing second trombone. My concert in the group taught me the important skill of the “Grand Trombone Entrance.” We would wait until everyone was on stage, still warming up, walk in to our seats in the back of the orchestra, stand for a moment, then on the first trombonist’s cue, sit down in unison. It was greeted with a mixture of laughter, groans, and eye-rolls from the orchestra. I think the eye-rollers were just jealous that they weren’t having as much fun. We were idiots, but we were fun idiots!

When I get home after being gone for several hours outside the house, or when I return from a trip, I can expect three responses to my “grand entrance.” First comes the dog, who beats the kids into the garage as I’m pulling in. She waits expectantly outside my door, her tail beating against the garage shelves, and will barely let me out of the car without a hand-lick and a head scratch. Then comes the kids when I step into the house, usually with a big pick-up hug and a kiss. Then I can count on a happy greeting from my wife, if not in the same room then from the room she’s busy in. I imagine part of that is due to the relief of knowing someone else is home with her to help deal with the kids after a day of having them to herself.

The reactions to Jesus’ grand entrance in Luke 19:29-44 were a mixed bag as well. I just love how Ellen White puts it in The Desire of Ages, Chapter 62: “Never before had the world seen such a triumphal procession. It was not like that of the earth’s famous conquerors. No train of mourning captives, as trophies of kingly valor, made a feature of that scene. But about the Saviour were the glorious trophies of His labors of love for sinful man. There were the captives whom He had rescued from Satan’s power, praising God for their deliverance. The blind whom He had restored to sight were leading the way. The dumb whose tongues He had loosed shouted the loudest hosannas. The cripples whom He had healed bounded with joy, and were the most active in breaking the palm branches and waving them before the Saviour. Widows and orphans were exalting the name of Jesus for His works of mercy to them. The lepers whom He had cleansed spread their untainted garments in His path, and hailed Him as the King of glory. Those whom His voice had awakened from the sleep of death were in that throng. Lazarus, whose boy had seen corruption in the grave, but who now rejoiced in the strength of glorious manhood, led the beast on which the Saviour rode.”

Now, I don’t know how she would have known if Lazarus led the donkey. I’ve seen some vague references to that possibility. Maybe there’s a tradition of belief in that which I don’t know about. But it’s an intriguing story line. Jesus had just come from Bethany, where He spent time with Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Of all the “prisoners” that Jesus had released—from blindness, sickness, sin—Lazarus certainly was the most visibly symbolic. Here was a man Jesus raised from death. He was a walking, living, breathing representative of Jesus’ strength over death itself and His victory over death to come but a few days later when He Himself rose from the dead. Lazarus was a living illustration of Isaiah 25:8 – “He will swallow up death forever,
 And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces; The rebuke of His people
 He will take away from all the earth;
 For the Lord has spoken.” Who better, then, to lead Jesus to Jerusalem and, ultimately, the cross, than Lazarus, the only one there that day whose body had been through the corruption of the grave?

I wrote some time ago about how much I miss grandpa. Today, this again puts a smile on my face, and I hope it does for anyone who has lost loved ones. Death is swallowed up in victory! We have no need of wallowing in defeat and endless sadness in this life. The celebration can already begin for those who believe, for life is already ours! Perhaps it’s time to start practicing our celebration. The “Grand Entrance” of Jesus has happened and is yet to come, and the King Who conquered death will lead in His train all us released captives, forever to be in victory with Him!

Blessing Jesus

Who hasn't dreamed of what you would do if you you had an unlimited amount of money to spend on whatever you wanted to spend it on?

Pay off debts? Sure. Ensure your financial future and that of your family. Uh huh. Quit your job, buy a house in Aspen and Hawaii (with a boat of course), travel the world? Uh, YEAH!

I've heard of people saying they'd live the same if they won the lottery. Keep working. Stay where they are. Just live better at what they are already doing. Yeah right! More like a hole in the door of the office shaped like a person and a cloud of dust!

What gift would you give to a specific person if you could? If money wasn't an issue? What money was an issue, but you felt so compelled to give that you would do anything in your power to get it?  What would you give to a king? The president? To God?

The setting of Mary giving the gift of very expensive perfume is remarkable. The Bible says that it was worth a year's wages. Even if you're a $30,000 a year plugger (in today's society), that's quite a gift! If you received that kind of gift, you would be stunned, I think. I've received unexpected gifts before, things that shocked me. What if I were to receive a gift that was actually something to prepare me for my death and burial? Now THAT'S something to keep you up at night thinking!

That story stuns me for several reasons. For one, Mary was at a gathering, surrounded by people who were way better off than she was, people who if they esteemed Jesus as highly as she did, would have lavished unbelievable gifts on Him. Yet she was giving Him something more valuable than anyone else in the room had done.

For another, it was a gift of burial perfume. For the average person, you might be insulted by something like that, kind of like getting a funeral home gift card today. But it showed that she understood what Jesus had been saying, that He was headed for a terrible and difficult death on her behalf.

Third, the reactions throughout the room. They saw her like we might have, actually. We might see someone give a large offering in church today, someone who struggles to pay the bills, and think, "How do you expect to feed your family when you do something like that?"

Think about those stunners. Ask yourself some tough questions. Like, how highly do I esteem Jesus? How grateful am I for what He's done for me? How do I bless Him? How do I encourage others who are going through something terribly difficult--a card and a meal? Better than nothing. But am I thoughtful enough, and do I listen enough, to know what is going on and do something that matches the need for specific encouragement? Do I stand in judgment of someone who gives as foolish for not taking into account the gift and that person's life circumstances? Or do I stand in wonder and awe as to how much that person loves people, loves the church, and loves Jesus?

In Jesus, all heaven was poured out for me. Because God (Father, Son, and Spirit) loves me more than I can fathom. Would I dare stand in judgment and ingratitude of such a gift? God forbid! I want to be the man who stands in wonder and awe and worship.

What beautiful thing can I do for Jesus this week? What specific thing can I do to bless Him?

An Audience with Jesus

The contrast in attitude between two people can be striking. In Luke 18:18-30, there's a story about a rich young ruler. He came looking for an audience with Jesus. I think he must have been somewhat pricked of conscience. He sought eternal life, and confessed his obedience to God's commandments. Then He was challenged to sell what he had and give to the poor. This was a man who was doing his best to live a godly life. The commandments he had kept "since I was a boy." As far as his actions went, you would imagine a person who was respected. I imagine that the riches he had he had earned fairly. Yet when it came down to it, those earned riches were too hard to give up.

Then there's another man. He's in Luke 19:1-10. He was also rich, but not in the same way. He was a tax collector and a cheat. He defied the saying, "Cheaters never prosper," because he seemed to be prospering quite nicely on the backs of regular folk trying to make a decent living. He did not come looking for Jesus--the people wouldn't have let him in anyway. He waited to see Jesus, just get a glimpse, crawl up a tree and hope he wasn't noticed.

One man came wondering what else he had to do, as if what he'd done was great but not quite enough. He was confident in his commandment-keeping. Not so with Zacchaeus. He “... was beginning to realize how bitter are the fruits of sin, and how difficult the path of him who tries to return from a course of wrong. To be misunderstood, to be met with suspicion and distrust in the effort to correct his errors, was hard to bear. The chief publican longed to look upon the face of Him whose words had brought hope to his heart.” (Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, page 553).

Quite a contrast in attitudes. Quite a contrast in humility. And look at which one Jesus Himself approached! The man up a tree and out on a limb!

I think about where Jesus found me. I was a bit of a broken person, not because of any observable behavior, but simply because I had lost my way and my anchor point in life. He found me, an adrift college freshman studying in his dorm room one day. When a fellow student came in that day and wound up sharing Jesus with me, it was as if Jesus was looking up at me in a tree, just trying not to fall out! It hasn't been perfect since then, but I've never doubted that He has been dining with me every day since, even on those days I haven't seen Him there.

Where do you find yourself? Wondering what else you have to do? Thinking you've been doing what you're supposed to do? Friendless, helpless, up a tree, and out on a limb? Riddled with guilt over things you've done?

Either way, Jesus seeks you. Either way, you have His attention. Either way He says, "Make Me your everything. Make things right. I love you."

(Based on Luke 19:1-10. Check out http://carrollwoodchurch.com/2013/06/today-with-jesus-june-27-2013.html for a study guide one this).

Parental Expectations

I consider myself to be one of the fortunate few I've spoken with whose parents didn't have unreasonable, inflated expectations of me. Never did I note anyone implying that I should be a doctor or a lawyer or anyone other job considered to be high-paying or extra respectable. I didn't hear that I had to be a teacher like my parents, or a musician because my grandmother and mother taught music. To be honest, I felt quite a bit of freedom to be whoever I would discover I needed to be.

Of course I feel concern about the choices my children will make in life. The job situation is not what it once was. Employment opportunities change seemingly by the minute. I'm sure that by the time they are striking out on their own, things will look much different than they do today. Who knows what will even be respectable by then? Or high-income? Or what will even put food on the table?

James and John were two of Jesus' disciples whose mother had some pretty high ambitions for her children. For them to be disciples at all would have led her to believe that one day they could be rabbis as well, although it's appropriate that no other person in the Bible would carry that title after Jesus left--Jesus being the ultimate rabbi, a standard no human has any right to after He did it so perfectly. They had left all to follow Jesus, so it's not unreasonable for a mother to desire greatness for her children's future prosperity and prestige. Honestly, I don't look at her and think badly of her. Was she ignorant of the nature of God's Kingdom? Yes. Did she understand what kind of earthly future awaited those that followed Jesus? No, obviously. Based on what she knew, was she unreasonable? I'm not sure I can say that.

I leads me to wonder how much of Jesus' Kingdom I understand. I don't like suffering. I don't like, in my nature, to sacrifice too much. I don't like to feel ostracized. I don't like conflict.

Yeah, I'll admit it. I don't always like to carry the cross. I love the idea of it. It want to follow Jesus. And I even want to love that part of it that might not feel pleasant in the moment.

In the moment, as I accept Christ, I'm a member of His Kingdom. On this side of eternity, there's not a lot of real prestige that comes with it. Even within the church, you can follow Jesus to the very best of your ability, and someone will find fault with you and call you unworthy of something (ministry leadership, membership, etc.). But that's the cost of serving.

And I have to remember that word that is so important: serving. At the end of the day, it has to be about people. "The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Matthew 20:28). If I suffer for serving people, I may not like it in the moment, but so be it. If I am recognized for serving people, granting that I don't seek the recognition, so be it. Whatever may fall, if I'm truly following Jesus, mistreatment or praise won't be something I get wrapped up in.

I can accept being the closest to Jesus if that's what He wills. I can accept being mistreated for serving people as He did. I think that's what's really the gist of being a Kingdom citizen. It's about Jesus. Not me.

I just want to be that person described like this: "The one who stands nearest to Christ will be he who on earth has drunk most deeply of the spirit of His self-sacrificing love,--love that 'vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, ... seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil' (1 Corinthians 13:4, 5),--love that moves the disciple, as it moved our Lord, to give all, to live and labor and sacrifice, even unto death, for the saving of humanity."(The Desire of Ages, Ellen G. White, page 549)

Jesus. All.

(Based on Matthew 20:20-28. If you'd like to study this further for yourself, check out http://carrollwoodchurch.com/2013/06/today-with-jesus-june-26-2013.html)

When is it time to cut the rope?

Hollywood does a great job of dramatizing apocalyptic events these days. Special effects have come so far in just the last ten years or so that it makes things seem pretty realistic. Case-in-point: have you ever seen The Day After Tomorrow, with Dennis Quaid? In the movie, global warming eventually causes the ice age (because, science!). Quaid's character, a climatologist for NORAD, winds up going to New York to rescue his son from the impending doom of rapidly plunging temperatures.

In one scene, while headed north, he and his band of daring rescue workers are walking over a shopping mall with a glass roof. They did not know this as the mall was covered by snow and ice. One of them falls through the roof and is dangling by a rope, attached to the other two men, above the food court far below. It becomes apparent that the other two are not going to be able to haul the man and his sled and equipment back up, and they are in danger of being dragged down with the man. So he reaches up with his knife and cuts the rope, falling to his death but saving the other two.

I'm not sure this scene illustrates the point I'm about to make perfectly, but it's the best I could think of at the moment. Imagine yourself holding a heavy bag that is dangling over a deep precipice. In your mind, there's stuff in that bag that's very important to you. But is the stuff so important that you're willing to go down with it? It's apparent that if you don't either cut the rope or let go, you're doom is sealed. Can you cut the rope?

It's easy to say, "Yeah, nothing's that important!" But consider the Sanhedrin in John 11:45-54. Every evidence that could be given was given to them that Jesus was Messiah, the Son of God. Freedom could be found in Him alone, but here was a bunch of important people who simply could not cut the rope of their background, religious expectations, and prejudice. Here's what author Ellen White says about it in The Desire of Ages...

“Under the impression of the Holy spirit, the priests and rulers could not banish the conviction that they were fighting against God.” (page 539)

And yet, "He who walked upon the heaving billows, and by a word silenced their angry roaring, who cast out devils that in departing acknowledged Him to be the Son of God, who broke the slumbers of the dead, who held thousands entranced by His words of wisdom, was unable to reach the hearts of those who were blinded by prejudice and hatred, and who stubbornly rejected the light.” (page 541)

There comes a point in time where it seems you either cut the rope or go down with the weight. That weight could be any number of things: personal ideas and opinions, family background, religious or cultural expectations, jobs, relationships, activities... Really, just about anything that keeps us from accepting Jesus fully: His light, His life... Jesus ALL.

That's harder stuff to swallow than it appears at first glance. I'm part of a church that I've loved most of my life. It's a church that has a history of embracing God's Word and truth as it is seen in Jesus. It is now 150 years old (the last three days being its anniversary, founded as an official denomination in1863). The message and movement of Adventism is unique and, I feel, God-breathed and ordained. But we aren't the first people to have experienced something like this.

Consider the Jews themselves. Fathered by one man who was given a huge promise. Anointed, if you will, to bless all nations. God's very own people with a very unique and spectacular message. Yet led by people who were, well, people, there was quite a bit of evil that snuck into their history. When it came time to cut the rope, with the Son of God in their very midst, they (at least as a nation/religion/movement) couldn't do it, and the weight of their expectations and history dragged them over the edge--away from Jesus.

Don't ever get so enamored with a movement of people that you can't cut the rope. Why? Because, people are, well, people, and evil and deception will sneak into the ranks (and the "ranks" throughout history tend to be very confident with themselves and their interpretations of right, wrong, Scripture, God's leading, etc.). What's in the bag simply isn't that important, and you simply can't stuff Jesus Himself in the bag--He's too big for that.

I'm glad He's too big for that. That way it's possible to keep my eyes on Him and not on what's behind me. That way I can let go if the bag if necessary and cling to and depend on Jesus.

If it's not "Jesus. ALL."--all things understood in Jesus, all things collapsing without Jesus--let go of the bag. There's nothing in there worth getting dragged over the edge for. Not a relationship, not a church, not a job, and not a history.

Jesus. ALL.

Another day with Grandpa...

Sometimes I wish I could have a day with grandpa again.

Even now, 17 years after he died, I miss him. Strangely, it's actually been nearly 29 years since we've had a conversation that wasn't challenging. Grandpa had a stroke back in 1984. I remember that year pretty clearly. He was in the hospital for quite awhile, leaving my cousins and I at home where we watched the Olympics. You may remember that year because of Mary Lou Retton, Carl Lewis, Edwin Moses, Rowdy Gaines, and others who graced our televisions with incredible feats of athleticism. I remember it, and those Olympic games in Los Angeles, as a way to pass the time while grandpa recovered.

Until that time, grandpa spent hours with the kids at some point just about every summer in Richardson, Texas. We rode with him on the tractor (OK, riding lawn mower). We knew where his stash of ice-cold Dr. Peppers and watermelon were kept in the old fridge in the garage. My cousins and I played hide and seek, and I only now know where the best hiding place really was. He used to keep the air conditioning in the living room at temperatures that would make a good Minnesotan button the top button of his flannel shirt (hey, summertime near Dallas is amazingly hot, so we loved it), and we always loved making as many blanket and pillow forts as possible. Grandpa used to set up a flimsy hose on a pole in the back yard that would wildly whip around spraying us (and occasionally whacking us upside the head if we weren't careful). And tickle? Oh wow, the side stitches from laughter are still memorable!

He would have absolutely adored our kids. He was a faithful elder in his church, and even a solid greeter years after his stroke stole away his ability to smoothly communicate with people.

On the day of his funeral, I was able to keep things together until I was alone with one of my cousins with whom much of those good times were shared. Not until then did I really break down at all. I think it has to do with shared experience. It's not that we always got along beautifully. I know I annoyed her to death at times, as she did me. I'm sure we both combined well to drive her older sister nuts. We could both be hard-headed and argumentative kids. But in that moment, it didn't matter. A man we both adored, around whom much of our relationship revolved, would now sleep for the rest of our lives on earth. I know we all miss Grandpa. I know my dad and my aunt do. I know Grandma really does.

I read today the story of Lazarus' resurrection in John 11. Here was a man dead for 4 days. Jesus could have kept him from dying much sooner than He did. He had done so for a little girl once, but was then accused of just waking her up from a deep sleep, that she wasn't really dead at all. People opposed to Him and His brand of "messiahship" accused Him of doing miracles by the power of Satan. He knew that there were those who doubted His ability, in the long run, to even resurrect the dead to eternal life at the last day.

He worked with people that day, asking them to roll the stone away from the tomb. In front of everyone, with everyone able to see the dead man lying there in the tomb, with everyone able to smell his decomposing flesh, Jesus stood. He spoke aloud to His Father, naming God as His Father--thereby staking claim to His own divinity. He spoke to the one that everyone could see was dead, and the dead man heard him, stood up, and walked out of the grave! When they'd removed those nasty death clothes, there stood a man in perfect health as though he was in the prime of his life!

Never was there more obvious evidence that Jesus was who He said He was. To deny Him at this point, to plot His death, whether that plot could succeed or not, was to plot against One who was obviously the Son of God. It was to consciously side oneself with the losing side in the great controversy between God and Satan.

But that evidence encourages me today, nearly 2,000 years removed from the event. It is convincing and convicting evidence, alongside the fact that Jesus Himself rose from the dead, that death has no real power over me. It has no real power over anyone who believes. It has no real power over Grandpa.

Lazarus came forth renewed. No trace of the disease that killed him remained in his body. One day, for the first time since 1984, I'll get to talk with Grandpa again without his having to struggle to tell me what he wants me to hear. It will be as though the stroke never happened. I can't wait!

Where does it hurt?

Nothing... I mean nothing... has a greater impact on me than my family. Them to me personally, talking about them, thinking about them, what others say about them... it's all a big deal to me. As I write, my son is happily looking at Mickey Mouse games online (he's going to need to be done soon as his screen time is about to expire for the day). Every so often he'll look up with a big smile on his face and tell me about something he just did. Later we'll go for a walk and play baseball together.

Every day my girl comes home from school and tells me about the cool things she got to do. I just signed her up for summer camp, actually, her first year to do something like that. She can't wait to ride horses and swim all day. We have a family vacation planned for the following week in North Carolina in a place that's secluded, where we get no cell reception or internet, and we spend our days hiking, biking, sight-seeing, or checking out the shops in town. Or we may sit around the camp all day and watch the kids play in the creek during the day and catch fireflies in the evening before we roast marshmallows over a campfire.

Reading through the passages in Matthew, Mark, and Luke today was kind of tough from one perspective. It's pretty clear that Jesus hit the guy where it hurt: in his wallet. He "valued" obedience and finding a way to the Kingdom of God through what He did. But there was a heart-devotion missing. Commandment-keeping wasn't his problem. It was motivation. Did he do it for self? Or for God? Was he really willing, as the other disciples did, to sacrifice everything to follow Jesus? Turns out that he didn't.

The presenting issue was riches. But I believe that riches are more than money or possessions. They are whatever moves you the most. Riches moved the rich young ruler. But that may not move me. What really moves me is my family. I can't bear the thought of my kids doing without, being hungry, suffering in some way. The situation they have right now is really good for them. My daughter is in a great school and has great teachers. I want the same for my son in a year. I'm not enamored with the typical pastoral "move every couple of years" thing because of that. Kids crave consistency and stability, and I'm loathe to take it from them.

But then I read this stuff and I can't help but reflect on it in my context. If I'm called to pick up and move, will I? If I'm called to sacrifice something for the cause of Jesus, and that sacrifice impacts my family--well, how devoted am I? Most horrifyingly... if Jesus were to call me (not likely, but what if?) to walk away from them... if for one reason or another they would not follow Jesus (I'm aghast to even write that)... could I? Jesus said "I assure you that everyone who has given up house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the Kingdom of God, will be repaid many times over in this life, and will have eternal life in the world to come." Do I believe that?

I'm not saying that will happen. As a family, we try to follow Jesus every day. We don't do it perfectly, but it's a joy for us to hide our imperfect selves in His perfection. But I cannot say with 100% assuredness that any of that stuff I just wrote of will not happen either.

How important it is to never stop looking at Jesus, falling in love with Jesus. He has to be adequate for me. It has to be such that happiness and fulfillment will not be lost until I lose Jesus. My greatest intimacies and thoughts and affections have to be wrapped up in Jesus. I have to understand everything in Jesus.

Please, Jesus, give me that kind of love. Give me that kind of courage and commitment to you, which I cannot just conjure up but what you place in me. May I be lost in You, focused on You without distraction, doing life with you without straying off course--ready to give up ALL for Jesus. ALL.