Have you ever wondered where you came from? – Not biologically. I mean, who are your ancestors? Where did your great-grandparents live? What about their great-grandparents? Who are you? What is your family heritage? Who are your people? I believe most of us have asked similar questions. And so, when I come to a verse (2 Chronicles 7:14) where those addressed are “My people, who are called by My name” it causes me to ask:

1) Who is speaking? In this case, evidence is given to us by the context of the verse. It is God. “My people” are God’s people. “My name” refers God’s name.

2) Who is addressed? Who are God’s people? In the immediate context, this verse refers to the nation of Israel. Those people who’s lineage comes from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Israel was (is?) a theocracy – a system of government ordained by God. Israel was the nation that bore the the name of God. They were called by His name. However, in light of what we find in the New Testament, God’s name is also given to those who have trusted Christ. Those of us in Christ are called the church.

If this seems at all confusing, let me try to clear it up. (If for no one else but me.)

* Whether this applies strictly to Israel or is expanded to include the Church, we certainly can’t expect people who are apathetic or antagonistic toward God to be among those addressed here. But this discussion isn’t even the primary focus. Let me caution you to not jump to the end, either. This verse is not intended to provide a way to “heal our land.” Many Christians in the U.S. use this verse as a way to “restore” the country to resemble some notion of the past. While that might be a noble quest, to do so is to miss the grander concept.

This passage is not about restoring an institution (political or otherwise), but about redeeming individuals to a Holy God. The verbs within this verse point us in that direction.

1) I humble myself. When we begin to see God for who He truly is, in all of His majesty, and glory, and holiness, our only appropriate response is humility. As Isaiah cried, “I’m as good as dead! For I have looked God in the face. I have seen the God of Angel Armies” (Isaiah 6, loosely adapted from The Message)

2) And pray. Amazing! This holy God wants me to commune with Him! Stop for a minute and let that soak in. (In fact, stop reading this post, turn off the music, close the door, and ponder this: The One who spoke creation into being and breathed the breath of life into humanity wants to speak to you! So stop. And listen.)

3) Seek His face. He wants to be known by me. When I seek Him with my whole heart, I will find Him. Jeremiah 29:13

4) Turn from evil. I’ve got to lay it down. All of it. I must repent of my selfishness. My evil desires. My pride. My sin. I must turn from that. Here, Jesus, take it.

Thankfully, I don’t attempt any of these under my own power. It’s not that I won’t, but rather…I can’t. Holy Spirit lives within me. He empowers me. He overcomes sin. Through Him I am humbled and pray. Through Him I seek the face of God and turn from evil. And the real treasure is that through Christ ANYONE can be called the people of God. Humble yourself, pray, seek Him, and repent. And if/when all this happens, what does God choose to do with “my land?”…I’m not sure. When I see the face of God, I have wonder how much anything else matters. In the final analysis, this isn’t my home anyway. And for other Christians, “my people,” this isn’t your home, either.

So what is a “Ragamuffin Warrior” anyway? I’m glad you asked. The title for this blog is a blending of one of my favorite books with one of my favorite movies.

First, the book: “Ragamuffin Gospel” by Brennan Manning

In his work, Manning describes a ragamuffin as someone who is, at best, a-pieced-together-work-in-progress. (My words, not his. To read his, and I pray you do, pick up a copy of his book. Or let me know and I’ll loan you one.) A ragamuffin has nothing of real value to offer. He has mastered no skill nor relies on any great talent. The best he can do is just make it through the day. His spirit is somewhat rebellious, prone to wandering. A virtuous ragamuffin limps through life like a worn out angel, tilted halo, broken wings. He has warts and wounds. A ragamuffin hurts others, even when not intentional. Most of all, he’s desperate. Whether he knows it or not, whether he acknowledges it or not, he has a longing to be caught up in a grand story. A ragamuffin longs for significance, but isn’t quite sure how to find it.

And the movie? Braveheart

There’s a line from Braveheart in which the narrator recounts the victory of the Scots. He says that they fought like “warrior poets.” A warrior is someone who is brave and strong. He doesn’t run from opposition, but holds his ground and fights. A warrior trains, mastering the necessary skills to be victorious in battle. He plans and schemes. A warrior learns the methods and maneuvers of his adversary. He is noble and just. A warrior does not fight simply because he can, but fights when it is required of him. Most importantly, a warrior fights for the heart of his king. Unselfishly, he lives to advance the kingdom.

So, what to make of these two contrasting, yet juxtaposed ideas of manhood. First of all, I am a ragamuffin. My best efforts often fail. But the grace of God doesn’t leave me there. He gives me purpose. He allows me to join in a great story, the great story, His story. The Bible says that as a Christian, I am part of God’s Kingdom. I am a warrior. The first two things a warrior learns is who he is fighting for and who he is fighting against. Christ is my King. I fight for His heart. His heart is the redemption of man. He longs to restore people’s hearts and to give them purpose, meaning, life, and joy. He wants to know you and for you to know Him.

The adversary is the devil. That might come as a shock to those outside the church and should come as a reminder to those within. The adversary is not a politician. Not a race. Not this group of people or that. It’s not anything of this world. We must remember this, “For our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the world powers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens.” (Ephesians 6:12)

So that’s me, a Ragamuffin Warrior. I’m not always sure of what I’m doing or if what I’m doing is working. But I am clear about who it is that I serve and who it is that I fight.

Today I was filled with about as much pride as I have ever experienced. Before you go spouting about how “pride cometh (drop the “th” already) before the fall,” let me explain a bit more. This wasn’t a pride in the selfish, sinful kind of way. No. It was pride that I experienced through someone else. He happens to be my 5 year old, excuse me, 5 1/2 year old son, Micah.

This is the last day of our 3-day skiing vacation. Each of the first two days, Lindsey and I have taken him out of his ski school a bit early so that we could ski with him. Yesterday, the boy skied down the big mountain with us. Today, he successfully skied a blue slope. (For any non-skiers out there, that’s an intermediate level.) After that, I was a proud papa. But it gets better.

Our next trip was to the other side of the mountain where we could try a slope that was a bit longer. It is one of the resort’s easiest slopes. Nice and wide with a gentle down-hill grade. As we were riding the lift up to the top, we noticed the wind picking up just a bit. When we got off the lift, the wind was really blowing. And the snowfall had picked as well. It’s not unusual for the wind to be stronger at the top of the mountain and so with Lindsey leading the way, we tried to ski down a little and hopefully get below some of the wind.

After skiing down about 50 yards or so, we came to the most awful snow storm I’ve ever seen. The wind was blowing snow up the mountain. Total white out. I could barely see Lindsey and there, just a few yards behind her, was Micah, arms crossed over his chest, slightly hunched over. We were all slowly moving forward. I still don’t know how Lindsey knew where to go, but she did it. And Micah followed right in her tracks.

We finally made it down to a spot where some trees gave us a bit of a break from the wind. Lindsey stopped and Micah caught up to her. I saw her talking to him as I pulled up beside them. She was reassuring him that it would be alright. He turned and looked at me, tears in his eyes. He was cold. Miserable, actually. As Lindsey took off again, I told him we were going to be alright but we had to keep moving. He nodded and followed after Mama again.

The wind never stopped, but did lighten up as we moved down the mountain. At some places, Micah was slowed a lot by the wind. I’d catch up to him, grab his hand and sling-shot him forward. Eventually, we made it to the warming house to enjoy the best hot chocolate you can imagine. As we sat near the fire place, that’s when the pride swelled from deep within. My son grew up a little bit today and while I’d never wish to go through that again, I wouldn’t trade the closeness I felt to him for anything. “That’s my boy!”

It made me think about my relationship with God, my Father. There are times when this world throws things at us that just seem unbearable. We’re not sure how we ended up here and we don’t see an end in sight. Sometimes we just want to sit down and cry. But that doesn’t get us very far. We have to point our feet forward, put our heads down, and just keep moving. Whenever we think we can’t keep going, that’s when God takes us by the hand and propels us on. It breaks His heart to see us go through it, but when the storm is over, I believe He looks down and says, “That’s my boy!”

This week, I’m leading our small group in a lesson about Jonah. There are many life lessons to be learned from the man that ran from God.

1. You can run from God, but whenever you turn back to Him, He is humble enough to accept you and grant you a measure of grace.
2. God hates sin. Abhors sin. It’s not a choice that He hates sin. It goes against His very nature. He is holy and therefore must destroy sin.
3. God’s message is for all people. Even in this Old Testament book, we see that God’s message of redemption extended beyond the boundaries of Israel.

The above observations are just a few and could stand a great deal more discussion. However, my thoughts have turned to how God works through difficult situations. We could debate about why there is evil, pain, suffering, etc. (and many, including myself, have) I believe one of the ideas often missing from such discussion is to ask the opposing question, “Why is there pleasure?” But the fact of the matter is there is pain. There is suffering. There is evil in this world.

What can we learn from pain? The old preacher Bebb, in Frederick Buechner’s The Book of Bebb, likens the evil of this world to manure and says, “There’s two main things about it. One thing is it’s stink and corruption and waste. The other thing is if you don’t pile it up too think in any one place, it makes the seeds grow…God’s where there’s seeds growing.” I have to wonder what Jonah was thinking while he was in the belly of the fish. I’m sure it didn’t take him long to repent. Surely not three days. It was probably more like three minutes! But he stayed in the belly for three days. Did God cause the storm or not? Eh…debate away. But the certainty here is that God used the storm…and the fish and the plant and the worm. God used all these things and more to shape the character of Jonah.

So, does God cause the painful circumstances of our lives? Maybe. Maybe we make bad decisions with pain as the consequence. Jonah made a bad decision. But maybe we’re in the midst of pain that we didn’t cause. A friend betrayed us. Someone we loved died. We heard the dreaded word “cancer.” Sometimes we just have to admit that we find our lives stuck in the “Land of Succoth.” Those moments present us with life-altering intersections. We can choose from many avenues in order to cope with our situation.

Some decide that life is so full of pain that we must try to fill it with fun and pleasure. This road leads many to alcohol or drugs. Partying, shopping sprees, never-ending vacations from reality. All trying to forget or mask over the pain. Others decide that life is so full of pain that there’s no escaping it. And so, not wanting to risk enduring another pain, retreat from society, not trusting anyone or getting close to someone else. A few will conclude that life isn’t worth living at all.

But perhaps there is another road. Perhaps, there is a place where the seeds grow. It’s not that there’s no more pain, but it’s that we grow in spite of (or maybe as a direct result of) the pain. It stinks. It hurts. But for those who endure, for those who hold on, there is…hope. I define hope simply as a belief that tomorrow is brighter than today. For me personally, the last two years have been some of the most painful. I lost a close friend to cancer. I lost my job. I’ve made some bad decisions. And while I would never wish to experience the depth of that pain again, (though in a way, I feel it daily) I would also never trade the resultant strengthening of my hope, which is the glory of God. If you don’t know this hope, I’d love to help you find it.

“Therefore, since we have been declared righteous by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Also through Him, we have obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope does not disappoint, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” Romans 5:1-5, emphasis added

One of my favorite times of the day is the drive to work in the morning. I get to take the boys to school. They are 4 and 2. We speculate about the day…what will we have for snack? Will we paint, sing or play on the playground? One day this past week, Micah asked me an interesting question. You’ve probably picked up on that question from reading the title of this post. I don’t recall what led to the question, but he asked, “Daddy, where is heaven?”

“I’m not sure buddy.”

“Well, I think it’s up in the stars.”

“It might be up in the stars,” I said.

“Or behind the moon.”

“Well, let me ask you, ‘Where is God?’ Don’t you think heaven is where God is?”

You see, I think heaven is all around us. We just don’t always see it. Heaven is the lady ringing the bell outside the store and it’s the man who drops a twenty in the kettle. Heaven is the teenager who does what’s right, even when her friends do what’s cool. Heaven is the 8 year old who said he had enough toys so he would ask Santa Clause for some money…so he could buy toys for kids that didn’t have any. Heaven is all around us. We just have to open our eyes to see it. But if heaven is where God is, then, as Christians, it’s safe to say that heaven is inside of us, too. These are the thoughts that flew thought my mind as I tried to explain heaven to a 4 year old. It’s difficult to explain something that you yourself don’t understand.

My thoughts were broken with, “Daddy, I know somebody that’s in heaven.”

“I do, too, Buddy. I know several people in heaven.”

“Yeah, Uncle Marshall is in heaven.”

“That’s right,” I said.

I thought about all those who’ve gone before me.

 

When I attempt to put it all together, and try to answer, “Where is heaven?” I’m left with a few ideas:

1) Heaven is wherever God is. (Hebrews 9:24)

2) Heaven is all around us, we just have to cultivate the eyes to see it. (2 Kings 6:17)

3) Heaven first comes to me, by way of Christ and then comes through me. (Matthew 13:11, 28:18-20)

4) Heaven is not just around me, but in me, by Christ and by the memory of those who have gone before me. (Colossians 1:25-27)

 

I’ll bet Micah had no idea how introspective his question was. Ultimately, location doesn’t matter. It’s been said that home is where the heart is. And for the Christian, this world ain’t your home.

Father, open my eyes that I may see your beauty, your glory, your presence in this world. Mold me, shape me, conform me so that others may see heaven in me, not for me, but for your glory. Amen.

Not that there’s a bad verse of scripture, but the one chosen for See You at the Pole for 2011 is at least interesting. The national organization chose Matthew 18:20, which says “Whenever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there with you.” (CEV) At first glance, this seems to be a great passage of comfort and assurance when gathering with hundreds (potentially) of other students around the flag pole for the sole purpose of praying. Students pray for their schools, faculty, staff, each other, so on and so forth. And we might be quick to say, “But there were two or three of us that prayed for _______, so I know Jesus was with us.” But let’s take a quick look at the context of this scripture. What was the setting? What comes before and/or after this verse that might give us insight?

The overall context for the passage that contains this verse (Matt 18:15-20), is what folks who are fluent in Christianeese refer to as “church discipline.” In other words, it helps us know how to address a fellow church member who, in one way or another, has wronged us.

It tells us that we are to confront the individual in private. If you can work things out, then you’ve strengthened that relationship. But if things are not resolved, then we’re to bring along one or two others and try again. If there is still no resolution, then we are to bring the matter before the church. If this final step doesn’t bring about repentance or restoration, then the church should break fellowship with the individual.

The next few verses give the church some sense of assurance. Jesus tells us that in matters such as these, the church should exercise caution that Christ is in it. Furthermore, He says that “when two or three are gathered in My name, I am there.” The emphasis is added to show that this process, rightly done, can not move forward without great prayer.

Now, as for the passage that precedes and follows, Christ places a high emphasis on forgiveness and restoration. In the preceding passage (verses 10-14), He shares the parable of the lost sheep. We understand that the shepherd goes to great lengths to find the one lost sheep and bring him back into the fold. So it should be with the church when one of it’s members has strayed. In the following passage (verses 21-35), we gain the understanding that forgiveness is one of the great marks of those who follow Christ.

The overall theme here is one of Restoring Relationships. We see that there is a balance of forgiveness and discipline. You can forgive someone without accepting their behavior. You don’t even have to forget what has happened. In fact, forgiving someone in spite of the fact that you can’t forget is a deeper forgiveness. If I forget a wrong, then I have no need to forgive.

So, what does all of this have to do with See You at the Pole? Great question! For me, I am taking this as an opportunity to seek restoration to broken relationships. I am working to forgive anyone who has wronged me. I don’t want to carry that grudge. And I can rest assured that when I seek to mend a broken relationship, Christ will be right there by my side. After all, it is His blood that enables us to forgive and to restore what is broken.

He’s a hard worker, a taxi driver. He’s tough, moved to Lima alone at age 12. At 56 he began learning a new language, English. His heart is full of compassion. He loves his Lord Jesus and takes pleasure in serving Him. He doesn’t think much of himself, or rather, doesn’t think often of himself. He doesn’t have the time. He’s always thinking about about others. “How can I serve them? comfort them? encourage them?”

I met Raul this summer and he deeply impacted my life. We served together for a week in Yungay, Peru. I got the chance to get to know him more on an 8-hour bus ride through the mountains and along the coast in Peru. He has a great joy and exuberance for life. We laughed a lot. I asked him, “Raul, if you had 2 or 3 days to do anything you wanted or go anywhere you wanted, what would you do?”

“You mean 3 days with no responsibilities? No work?” He seemed genuinely perplexed…like this was a totally hypothetical question.

“That’s right, 3 days to do anything you want to do.”

“I think I would go somewhere alone and read my Bible.”

I sat there in silence for a moment contemplating what he’d just said. At first, I thought he was being “super-spiritual.” But after seeing his countenance, I knew he was serious. I don’t really know what I thought he would say. Visit Fiji? Take a sunset catamaran cruise? Spend an evening in Paris with his wife?

” And what about you?”

I know that I had already prepared an answer for myself and it wasn’t anything like his. I would travel. I’ve always wanted to visit Iceland, Ireland, Scotland.  But I’d probably want to stretch it out for a couple of weeks. The cool, brisk weather. The natural hot springs. The beautiful highlands. But I couldn’t share that with him. So, after fidgeting for a moment, I came up with another answer.

“I’d want to travel to the Holy Land. Walk where Jesus walked. Maybe even participate in a touring  Bible study.”

We talked for a little longer about how great that would be. And the truth is, if given a choice between visiting the islands of the North Atlantic or taking a tour of the Holy Land, I really would choose the latter. It’s not like I lied to Raul, but I wasn’t as ready to answer as he was. His quick response makes me think that, for him, there’s nothing like simply being in the presence of God.

I want to be like that. I love working for the Kingdom. I understand the importance of serving my fellow man and serving the King. But I want to learn to enjoy simply being in the presence of my Creator.

God, help me to listen more and talk less. You know my heart, I want to know Yours. Amen.

(Original date was Jan. 21, 2009)

On Monday we celebrated the birthday of a great American. Martin Luther King, Jr. challenged us to live better, socially, ethically, and spiritually. Tuesday, we witnessed the swearing in of our first African-American as President of the United States. As I contemplate these things, I can’t help but think about the battle that was raging in the middle of the 19^th century. It was a time in which these men would not have even been allowed a public forum. In many ways, we have come so far as a country. Yet in many ways, we remain the same.

The aforementioned battle, the issue of slavery, was fought with muskets and with gavels. At the heart of this issue was the “perception” of people with different colored skin. Those who wished to abolish slavery understood that these men and women were humans created by the same God. Others, who wished to continue the practice, saw these people quite differently. They understood them to be property. To view them as humans meant that they too were “endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights.” To view them as property meant that they had no rights.

In America today, as we celebrate the accomplishments of people like Rev. King and Pres. Obama, let us also recognize that there is still a group of people who do not have the chance to experience “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Again, it is essentially a “perception” issue. The unborn child is either seen as a human with rights or as property with no rights. My prayer is that one day our nation will awaken to this great tragedy and that this form of slavery will also be abolished.

Nearly 5 months later and there are times that I am still bitter.

I was taking Systematic Theology in the fall semester of 2010. Part of the coursework included a research paper on a specified theological matter. From the provided list, I chose “God and the Problem of Evil.” (Seminarians refer to this as theodicy – not to be confused with a work by Homer.) I don’t claim to be an expert on this issue, but I certainly have gained more knowledge on the subject. To begin with, I read through scripture about people like Paul and John the Baptist, who were the victims of evils and pains of this world. I searched the Old and New Testaments. I read C.S. Lewis, Frederick Buechner, and Brennan Manning. I read articles from many other scholars and theologians. I put together a suitable paper on the subject. My professor gave me 100%, so I’m not really sure if he read it. At any rate, I still feel pretty good about the content therein.

But God was showing me something on a much deeper level. You see, all the knowledge in the world does little to help with a fundamentally emotional or spiritual problem. In Spanish, there are two words that can be translated as “to know”: saber and conocer. The first means to know a fact. We would use it as in “Do you know when The Declaration of Independence was signed?” But conocer means to know something by way of experience. “Do you know your neighbor?” Another way to phrase this is to consider the difference in comprehension and apprehension. I can comprehend how to throw a curve ball that will strike out a Major League batter, but I have yet to apprehend it. (Yes, I said, “yet.” It could happen.)

God was leading me on a path in which I would be able to exercise my newfound knowledge on the subject. He was leading me to apprehend what I had recently attempted to comprehend. While I am grateful for the deeper understanding, I absolutely despise, abhor the journey. It’s not really over, because I still don’t feel like I’ve arrived anywhere yet and I don’t see an end in the near future. It is a painful journey in which I have one burning question. The question eats at me because I can’t see God’s plan. I am an optimist. I always try to look at the “bright side.” It helps me and, for me, beats the alternative. (Pet peeve alert: I don’t like pessimists. I just want to say, “Chill out!”) But, if I’m honest, I don’t see the bright side is this situation. I don’t even see a shimmer of light.

I have gained a better understanding of Robert Robinson’s Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, particularly the following verse:

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.

I’ve been prone to wander. I’ve even felt prone to leave the very God that I love. How could God allow this to happen? I don’t understand. He was a good man. He was my best friend. I miss him and all the theodicy studying in the world doesn’t make this any better. Yeah, I know God is soveriegn. I know that what I want isn’t always what I get. But I have a really hard time thinking, much less actually believing, that this is what God wanted. So, why didn’t He do anything about it?

And I guess that is the question that eats me.

My God, why didn’t You do something? We prayed. Thousands prayed. We believed. There was more than mustard seed faith. There was an entire mountain of faith in Marshall alone…

And He replies, “Do you trust Me?” I swallow hard, take a deep breath. “I’m not sure, Lord…Yes. Yes, of course I trust You, but help my distrust.”

Take my heart, Lord. Take and seal it.
Seal it for thy courts above.

I haven’t played wall ball in about 30 minutes, but before that it had been about 16 or 17 years. It was fun, and this old man dominated the 3rd,  4th and 5th graders this afternoon. And the game hasn’t changed much since I last played at Fitzgerald Junior High School. For one thing, apparently you can make up rules as you go. I’m pretty sure that happened back when I was a 12 year old, too. The second thing is that girls cannot win. Period. Even if you have to abide by the aforementioned notion of rule changes.

It is always ammusing to me the games that kids will come up with. Whether it’s a twist on hide-n-seek or a spin on wall ball, the guys find a way to have fun. They’re creative. Something dark inside us happens as we grow up. Creativity is often squelched because we find the need to blend in, to become conformist. When I look at Christ, I see anything but conformity. Sure, He studied the scriptures, but he challenged the status quo. And He did things that astonished the people around Him.

He walked on water, turned water into wine, defended an adulterer, challenged the religious, worked on the Sabbath, spoke to demons, healed the blind and raised the dead. Talk about a creative ministry! Basically, He did anything that needed to be done in order to glorify His Father, even if it meant breaking the rules.

Now, I’m not an anarchist, but I think it becomes important for us to evaluate the rules that we have. It’s important to ask why we do things. Why do we take our hats off inside a building? Why do we have Sunday School? Why is playing cards wrong? Why is this song ok, but this song, that says basically the same thing, not ok? Why do we close our eyes when we pray? Why do we do the things we do?

Do we just do things because that’s what’s expected? Or do we seek to allow God to lead us, even if it means that we risk being creative? If someone has a new rule that makes wall ball more exciting, then let’s go for it!