Tuesday, March 3, 2009

What's Wrong with this picture?


So, here it goes: The following is the first part of the introduction to the new book I am writing. I am interested to hear from anyone who might take a shot at sharing with me and others what the topic is. I will give the answer tomorrow.

It is another glorious Friday spring evening in Jerusalem, Canaan.  The lazy amber sunlight is casting purple shadows through the trees adorning the Mount of Olives. The time: approximately 7:15 Eastern Jerusalem Standard. Jesus and his team are beginning to arrive from various directions; tired, small tufts of dust trailing their sandaled feet, you can hear their laden breathing and shuffled steps lilting in and out, a weary melody. In the center of the camp, their customary Friday gathering place, a rich camel dung fire is hissing and filling the gentle breeze with nature’s incense. There is no conversation while each of the drafted twelve (in some places known simply as the Twelve Guys) taking their place around their leader (there had been much lobbying, dialogue and finally drawing of goat hairs to decide their seat positions).

As is customary after spending the week walking through the marketplaces, conversing amidst local beggars, thieves, prostitutes, lepers, delicatessen operators, lawyers, tax collectors, loan sharks and Pharisees (in no particular order), they are preparing to share their interactions. Jesus unrolls his papyrus journal scroll and removes a charcoal stick that has fallen out of the campfire’s flames. He takes a deep breath, looks at each of his disciples with a glowing smile, and begins to speak.

“So, Pete. How was your week? Good gathering? How many did you bring in?”

Peter, noticeably eager to share his joy of accomplishment, proudly declares, “Three Roman soldiers, five hookers, one begrudging lawyer, and four thieves; they used to be used camel dealers.”

“Nice. Good work,” replies the Enlightened One. He continues after jotting down the tally and a few notes, “Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad…how’s your week been? I know we talked about a new approach to overcoming the obstacles you’ve been encountering from that reputation people seem to have about you being two-faced.  Any luck closing some new ones?”

Judas jumps right in. “Jesus, you won’t believe it…it really helped when I told people what you said when I responded to those comments: ‘Every coin has two sides, but does that make it more or less valuable? I have flipped my coin to a new side and ask that you accept my value as a new man. Trust me.’ Bottom line: two debtors, one crooked matzoh baker and four beggars.”

“Way to go. Now that’s using your talents!” The group chuckles, then exchange a few high-fives and mitzvahs.

“Johnny, how goes it for you?”

John hesitates, takes a deep breath, and after a long exhale says, “I am sorry to say that I have had no luck. I kept asking people to ‘Believe,’ but no one’s buying it.”

Jesus scratches his beard and replies with slow dialogue, “Hmmm, sorry to hear that, bro. Unfortunately, that will bring your Same Soul Sales to 5% below last month and 66.6% below last year’s activities.”

In the distance a rumble and groan of thunder breaks the thickened silence.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Shipwrecked

The Scene:
Phew! The crew of the sailing vessel are one by one dragging themselves onto the sandy beach. Tattered, bruised, beaten, haggard and barely alive they begin to catch their breath. They have made it. They survived. The ship is nowhere to be seen. They think it must have been dismantled by the furious storm that they attempted to "ride out" through the night. Fearing the worst they abandoned the ship, dove into the churning waves and blackness for any hope of survival. 

Slowly, they gather on the beach. Not a word is spoken. No supplies. No food. No water. A deserted island, somewhere. But, they survived. They are alive. 

Behind them they hear a faint rustling sound. They turn towards the sound coming from within the thick border of trees. The sound builds, widens and quickens its pace. Suddenly, breaking from behind the curtain of trees a streak of tigers emerge. They pause, survey the small group of men. Hungry, they move forward.

________________________________________________________

I read a great post this morning from Mark Batterson, pastor & author: www.evotional.com.
He talks about the image of Paul encouraging the Centurion of the ship off of Malta to "cut the lines" and along with the crew stay on board for safety. Counter-intuitive, to say the least. Yet, how much do we really believe God when He says, "Trust Me."?  Hmmm.... Did the Israelites trust when they were on the shore of the Red Sea? Not! Did the disciples when they were in the torrential storm, and Jesus was counting sheep (or were they lambs?) in the back of the boat? Not! Did Thomas when Jesus revealed himself after the resurrection? Not! Did you the last time you ran out of time, money, health or hope? _______

The Centurion trusted Paul's belief in trusting God. It worked! Moses trusted God at the Red Sea. It worked! I trusted God when my life was left shattered, broken, and in shambles after crashing onto the rocks of my self-reliance, my trying to get things right and operating through pride. It worked! 

Shipwrecked

"The man with the clear head is the man who frees himself from fantasy and looks life in the face, realizes that everything in it is problematic, and feels himself lost.  And this is the simple truth - that to live is to feel oneself lost.  Whoever accepts this has already begun to find himself to be on firm ground.

Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look around for something to which to cling, and that tragic ruthless glance, absolutely sincere because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order into the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked.  All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce. He who does not really feel himself lost, is without remission; that is to say, he never finds himself, never comes up against his own reality."
 

Jose Ortega

Cut it loose.

For emphasis -- (b)






Sunday, March 1, 2009

One blade.

More. Faster. Now. Better.

Think about it: We have all been and continue to be impacted in this age of Dehumanization through Technology. More. Faster. Now. Better.

Think about it: We are all over-communicated with. Statistically, each and every day we each are exposed to over 20,000 bits of advertising messages; mail, TV, radio, web banners, cell phone, direct mail, billboards…. More. Faster. Now. Better.

Think about it: Nobody reads anymore! We are living in the TiVo society. The RSS Feed Me That culture. The USA Today SkimArama run. The Junk Mail Filterers Anonymous syndrome. The Twitterific Only So Many Letters Permitted intervention. More. Faster. Now. Better.

Yet…there is evidence of a Re-humanization Movement happening all around us: Small home churches. Coffee shop gatherings, just to talk. Increase in people working with personal coaches and counselors. Dinner at home. Less. Slower. Naturally. Better. 

Cannot help but remember Harry Chapin’s classic song, Cat’s in the Cradle, a somberly accurate representation of how well we are evolving in our interpersonal moments of (  ):

Cat’s in the Cradle

“My child arrived just the other day


He came to the world in the usual way


But there were planes to catch and bills to pay


He learned to walk while I was away


And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew


He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad


You know I'm gonna be like you"



 

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon


Little boy blue and the man on the moon


When you comin' home dad?


I don't know when, but we'll get together then son


You know we'll have a good time then….”




The song goes on to convey how the son grows up, and when the Dad wants to spend time with him and his family the son now is too busy with all the “things” that have filled up his life:

“…I've long since retired, my son's moved away


I called him up just the other day


I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"


He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time


You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu


But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad


It's been sure nice talking to you"



And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me


He'd grown up just like me


My boy was just like me.


And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon


Little boy blue and the man on the moon


When you comin' home dad?


I don't know when, but we'll get together then son


You know we'll have a good time then.”




Same story. Same life. Same narrative.


The point:

There is a narrative written for life. It was written for all of us and each of us before time began. And we each have a role in that story. Some of us are a letter, some a word. A phrase. A sentence. A book. Books. A punctuation: (  ).

None are more important or more valuable than the others. So, what value is there to speed-reading through the moments we are given. To experience the rich ink of our individual and collective stories. More? Faster? Now? Better?

Ever experienced a moment like this: You are driving with someone down the highway, and off to the left you notice a rolling, open field of tall emerald grass. Bending, shimmering its slender fingers through the steady breeze. “Look at that amazing field over there. Isn’t that an amazing picture?” The image is acknowledged and then is out of view and mind, lost to everything that’s ahead. And did you happen to think about or notice “one single blade” in that luminous field; that one, combined with the many ones gathered into that wonderful whole picture? The art and intentionality of the one emerald scratch of light on the landscape? A moment of (   ).

There are many parentheses inserted for emphasis happening right now all around you. Less. Slower. Naturally. More.

For emphasis.  Cat's In the Cradle Videohttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zH46SmVv8SU

(b)