Thursday, March 4, 2010

Destruction

Has there ever been a time in your life when Jesus has come and destroyed everything?

For me, He came a year and a half ago, bearing a sizable wrecking ball. I had always, or at least since about 7th grade, wanted to be a lawyer. Initially, I had dreams of becoming an ambulance chaser or a divorce lawyer, someone who made a lot of money without having to do much. As I got older, my jurisprudential ambitions turned toward the more humanitarian aspects of law, such as human rights or government work.

By my senior year of high school, I had decided to go the University of Illinois and eventually the law school there. But in October of that year, one morning I woke up and knew I was actually going to be a pastor. The rest of that day, as I can recall, I was in a state of mild shock, slowly processing this bomb that the good Lord had dropped.

But the more I thought about it, the more I could link up events from over the previous year that had culminated in this vocational announcement.

It had all started in the early Fall of 2007. Throughout that year, a deep sense of disquiet and unrest filled me until I was nearly rupturing it from my joints. I could feel God urging me, pressuring me, to make a change. He was not entirely clear as to what that change should be, so I decided that I would step up and be more involved in student government, thus I ran in the election for student council president that spring.

That fever dream ended in a fiery crash, from which there were no survivors. And I was left dejected, not only because everyone hated me, but because I was convinced that me winning the election was God's plan (narcissistic much?). He wanted change, I tried to change, and failed. This event threw my entire outlook on life off balance. It redefined how I thought about myself - namely, with much more humility.

This newfound humility, for its part, led to what I sometimes refer to as my "second conversion", though that term does not do the event justice. While in Canada on a missions trip, God revealed Himself to me in an irrevocable and unequivocal way. Now I understood. The change would not be on my terms, but on His.

And so it happened. I started senior year with a vision and a purpose endowed by God. I founded a group of like-minded students who were all dedicated to enacting the Kingdom of Heaven in the here and now. I was back on top of the world, and as such my old ways of pride and arrogance began to creep back in.

But come that October, God had to debase me once again. Goodbye to law school, wealth, security, and prestige. Welcome to the land of the pastor, a land flowing with depression and small paychecks. Since then, I have tried to dutifully run the race marked out. Some mornings, most mornings, it feels like I've made a terrible mistake. Family and friends have, gently, expressed that I have lost my mind. They are probably right.

But I digress. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to simply ignore God's call on my life and carry on with my plans. And I could have done good works aplenty; served my fellow man, advanced the cause of Christ. But ultimately, I would have been going through the motions of religion, honoring God with my mouth but not with my life.

As we have discussed before, everyone has a calling to proclaim the gospel. But how does God want you to do it? Inquiring of the Lord, asking what He wants: that's the easy part. The trick of it is following His direction, even if He takes away your life. Or at least the one you planned to have.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1


Memo

This isn't an actual posting. I just wanted to apologize for the mind-blowing length of my last few posts.

If I find it hard to read them, then I know you do do to.

In the future, I will abstain from writing short novels, this isn't the place for that.

Thank you.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Disowned

Peter declared, "Even if all fall away, I will not."

"I tell you the truth", Jesus answered, "today - yes, tonight- before the rooster crows you yourself will disown me three times."

But Peter insisted emphatically, "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you."

Have you ever made a promise like that to Jesus? The fact of the matter is, you did the moment you were saved. You allied yourself to His cause, pledged to dutifully carry your cross, and ceded your rights to His will. Peter was one of Jesus' closest friends when He was on earth, and if anyone were to say that to Jesus, it would be Peter.

But Jesus calls him out and says that no, he won't. That Peter does not understand what has just flown out of his well-meaning mouth. That when the time comes, Peter will not only deny ever knowing Jesus once, but thrice. But Peter insists that he will stand by Jesus to the end.

It is easy for us, as it was for Peter, to declare our undying devotion to Christ. But what happens when the rubber truly meets the road?

Then seizing him, they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. But when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them. A servant girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, "This man was with him."

But he denied it. "Woman, I don't know him," he said.

A little later someone else saw him and said, "You also are one of them."

"Man, I am not!" Peter replied.

About an hour later another asserted, "Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean."

Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times."

And he went outside and wept bitterly.

This is possibly one of the single most heart wrenching passages in Scripture. Why? Because every single Christian can identify. Every so often in my life, there has come a point when someone plays the part of the servant girl and says to me, "Surely this man was with him." And I deny it. Maybe not as directly or as vehemently as Peter did, but as certainly.

And immediately, my heart is confronted with Jesus' words as recorded by Matthew: "Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven."

Peter heard these words when they were first spoken, and no doubt they returned to him as he crouched outside the house of the high priest, weeping bitterly. I do not think it a stretch to assume that he thought he was toast (figuratively and literally).

I can imagine that the shame of it ate him alive over the next few days. After the Crucifixion (which Peter did not have the gumption to attend, but who can really blame him?) and the Resurrection, the disciples had gone to Galilee. Twice now, Jesus had appeared to them and talked with them.

But none of the Gospels record Peter and Jesus exchanging words. Perhaps Peter was too ashamed, or perhaps he thought that Jesus would curse him in front of everyone if he spoke up. Whatever the reason, Peter was at this point torn up inside.

"I'm going out to fish," he said one evening. Peter had been a fisherman in his pre-Jesus life, and now that his shot with Jesus was through, he was returning to what he knew best. To the only thing, in his mind, he was any good at. But that entire night he and the other disciples caught nothing. The lake was as empty as his heart.

Early the next morning, the weary men spotted a man standing on the shore, just far enough away for his features to be fuzzy, but close enough for his voice to carry.

"Friends, haven't you any fish?"

"No!" They replied.

"Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some."

Why not? So the men hauled up the sodden net, carried it across the little boat, dropped it into the water, and WHAM! Almost instantly, their net is full of big, meaty fish. The weight made the boat list; the disciples were almost pulled in. John looked at Peter and said, "It is the Lord!"

Peter's eyes widen. He wraps his cloak around himself and for the second time in his life steps out of a boat on the Sea of Galilee. This time, of course, he just falls in and swims to shore. After they eat breakfast with Jesus, the other disciples get up to see to the fish, leaving Jesus and a sheepish Peter sitting by the fire.

Jesus looked at Peter, who probably cringed under the stare. Quietly, Jesus asked, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"

Hope stirred in Peter's dejected heart. Timidly, he responded, "Yes, Lord. You know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."

Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"

Peter answered more firmly this time: "Yes, Lord, you that I love you."

Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."

And for the third time, Jesus asked him, "Do you love me?"

Peter was hurt at this third repetition of the question. Was Jesus mocking him? He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my sheep."

As I said earlier, there are times in our life when we disown Jesus before men and fear that He will in turn disown us before God. But Jesus treats us the same as He treated His dear, fuddled friend Peter. He gives us not just one chance, but as many as is required. And for each time we disown Him, mock Him, degrade Him, or besmirch His name, He asks:

"Do you truly love me?"

It's a piercing question. How will you answer?