The question I was asked most often at this time last year was a simple one, “Why?” Why would I donate my kidney to someone I had known for only a year? My favorite was from the Denver Post reporter who, when I mentioned that we were having a special day at church to thank God, put it this way – “Why Thank God?” That one still makes me laugh.
But my purpose is not really to tell you that story, but more to tell you what I have learned a year later. In some ways this story is really a snapshot of my purpose for the blog, to tell people what I have learned as a Christian. I by no means am an expert; for the most part this blog is a “don’t do the dumb things I have” list. But I also have some very strong beliefs about God and how he works and they are vital to me. And since none of us make this journey we call “life” in isolation, perhaps some of what I’ve learned or am learning can be valuable.
Because there is one thing I know absolutely - I have no idea what I am doing. But I am learning, I’m learning each and every day who I am. I’m learning who God created and recreated me to be. I’m learning what it means to follow Jesus.
Jesus said it clearly enough, “Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.’” Lots of people have had their idea of what Jesus meant when he said that. One of my favorites comes from a German Pastor named Dietrich Bonheoffer who wrote, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die." (The Cost of Discipleship)
And in my opinion this is where God made a BIG mistake. Actually I guess you could say he made a mistake from the very Beginning. For In the Beginning God created his people to be part of how he works. In the simplest of terms God, who can do anything, wanted us to join him in what he is doing. He wants to use us.
Which is how I ended up in a hospital bed with one kidney. Because as I prayed with Jon the first day he was in the hospital with kidney failure and as I continued to pray for Jon over the next year God was slowly but surely answering that prayer. I just didn’t know how intimately I’d be involved in that answer.
Of course, God could have zapped Jon with a bolt of lightning or even healed him with a TV evangelist. But he didn’t. Because in “healing” Jon he also wanted to heal me. He wanted to shape and mold me, to change my heart. God wanted me to learn what it means to follow Him.
Read 2 Corinthians 5:14-21
So over the days and months of praying with Jon, through all the screening process at the hospital, God was slowly but surely teaching me what it means to follow Jesus. It means that I no longer live for myself, it means that I am part (however small and insignificant it may seem) of what He is doing. And not out of any compulsion, or guilt or even because I “owe” it to God. But simply because this is who God made and has remade me to be. This is what it means to be in Christ, a new creation. It’s not complete yet, not even close. But I am learning, I am learning who I am.
So this is what I have learned a year later. Pray, pray and tell God what your need, what you are afraid of, what you are facing - because God does indeed hear and answer. In fact he loves doing it. But I’d also encourage you to pray and ask God to show you how to be His answer to someone else’s prayer. Why? Because that’s who you are.
P.S. Even as I write this God has brought another person to our church who needs a kidney transplant. Her name is Shelly and she with her husband and son need your prayers. And if you’d like to learn more about organ donation check out http://www.donatelife.net/
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Home
It is good to be home. I was traveling this past week, something that I don’t do all that often anymore. But it did get me to thinking about all of the places that I’ve called “home” over the years. The first one to jump on the list would be my house growing up; 5280 Tabor St., Arvada Colorado, 80002. So beginning with that one and Google maps, I just took a quick trip down Memory Lane. House in Arvada, dorm rooms in Irvine, parent’s house in Maryland, dorm rooms in St. Louis, apartment in Florida, house in Nebraska and 2 houses back in Colorado.
All of the sudden it stuck me that not every house was a home to me. And this made me think of, not the song or the book, but way back to my confirmation days. When I was in 8th grade we were required to memorize a lot of stuff and one of the things we memorized was Martin Luther’s Small Catechism. I can still hear it echoing in my head, the explanation to the Apostles’ Creed: “I believe that God… also gives me clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home…” And most of those pairs seemed to make sense, clothing is great and even better with shoes, food is necessary but so is drink. Yet for the life of me I could never figure out the difference between house and home.
It is not just how long you lived someplace, I lived on a couple of campuses for years but they were not home. It is not just who else is there. My college roommates where some of the greatest friends with which God ever blessed me. In Nebraska I lived alone (except for the dog) and that somehow was home. House and home now is simple. It hasn’t been this simple since I lived in my childhood home. Now days I come home from a trip and the dog is excited to see me (still), my wife is excited (still?) and my daughters knock me over with hugs and questions. The house is never the same as I left it (as it was in the bachelor days) and there is always something new to fix. But there is no question, this is home.
There are also times when I come back to an empty house, everyone at school, work, gymnastics – whatever. So I’m at my house but it doesn’t seem like home. To be honest all the peace and quiet makes it seem better than home! But that only lasts a moment and I wish “home” would come back home.
So it is not just the building and it is not just the people. It is some rare, some unique combination of things that put my soul at ease. I’m home… Is there any other way to say it? I know I’m home.
It has made me wonder if perhaps that is why God seems to have such a hard time describing what “home” is like. It would be like me describing to you what my home is like. It is a place, a location which is extremely important. But no amount of pictures or architectural plans or fabric swatches or paint palates will really convey to you what makes my house home. And so too with the home of which God speaks. It is, I believe, a place. But to focus on the what of that place largely misses the point.
I think that is why Jesus uses the picture of returning home so often. One of my favorite chapters of the Bible is Luke 15. In it we get three quick stories, lost sheep, coin and son who all end up “home” at the end. Especially vivid to me is when the son “comes to his senses” and realizes “hey, this place sucks I should go home.” And he does. He goes back to his Father’s house and more importantly he goes to his Father’s home. And in my mind I can see it. I can see the peace that comes over the son as he realizes it, “I’m home. I’m the place where I’m always welcomed, always loved, always forgiven. I am home.”
So while I didn’t click my heals together yesterday and say, “there’s no place like home” I did lay down in my bed on my pillow and say a little prayer of thanks for being home. Because the only thing that is better than being home, is being Home. It is great to be home.
All of the sudden it stuck me that not every house was a home to me. And this made me think of, not the song or the book, but way back to my confirmation days. When I was in 8th grade we were required to memorize a lot of stuff and one of the things we memorized was Martin Luther’s Small Catechism. I can still hear it echoing in my head, the explanation to the Apostles’ Creed: “I believe that God… also gives me clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home…” And most of those pairs seemed to make sense, clothing is great and even better with shoes, food is necessary but so is drink. Yet for the life of me I could never figure out the difference between house and home.
It is not just how long you lived someplace, I lived on a couple of campuses for years but they were not home. It is not just who else is there. My college roommates where some of the greatest friends with which God ever blessed me. In Nebraska I lived alone (except for the dog) and that somehow was home. House and home now is simple. It hasn’t been this simple since I lived in my childhood home. Now days I come home from a trip and the dog is excited to see me (still), my wife is excited (still?) and my daughters knock me over with hugs and questions. The house is never the same as I left it (as it was in the bachelor days) and there is always something new to fix. But there is no question, this is home.
There are also times when I come back to an empty house, everyone at school, work, gymnastics – whatever. So I’m at my house but it doesn’t seem like home. To be honest all the peace and quiet makes it seem better than home! But that only lasts a moment and I wish “home” would come back home.
So it is not just the building and it is not just the people. It is some rare, some unique combination of things that put my soul at ease. I’m home… Is there any other way to say it? I know I’m home.
It has made me wonder if perhaps that is why God seems to have such a hard time describing what “home” is like. It would be like me describing to you what my home is like. It is a place, a location which is extremely important. But no amount of pictures or architectural plans or fabric swatches or paint palates will really convey to you what makes my house home. And so too with the home of which God speaks. It is, I believe, a place. But to focus on the what of that place largely misses the point.
I think that is why Jesus uses the picture of returning home so often. One of my favorite chapters of the Bible is Luke 15. In it we get three quick stories, lost sheep, coin and son who all end up “home” at the end. Especially vivid to me is when the son “comes to his senses” and realizes “hey, this place sucks I should go home.” And he does. He goes back to his Father’s house and more importantly he goes to his Father’s home. And in my mind I can see it. I can see the peace that comes over the son as he realizes it, “I’m home. I’m the place where I’m always welcomed, always loved, always forgiven. I am home.”
So while I didn’t click my heals together yesterday and say, “there’s no place like home” I did lay down in my bed on my pillow and say a little prayer of thanks for being home. Because the only thing that is better than being home, is being Home. It is great to be home.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Mad
A friend of mine asked me last week how things were going with Holy Week. He is another pastor and this is how pastors talk to one another during Holy Week. It is kind of like our April 15th if we were accountants. By tradition Pastors are supposed to complain about how busy they are and try to one-up each other. Kind of like old soldiers comparing war wounds. I think I may have surprised him when I responded, “God and I are in a fight. We’re not talking right now.” I say I think I surprised him because his response was “I think you can take Him.”
Which is of course ridiculous because I can’t take God. Jacob may have wrestled with God but I’m not Jacob and I haven’t wrestled since High School. So instead, God and I seem to be in a very common place for people in a relationship, we aren’t talking. We are giving each other the silent treatment.
Which of course leads you to ask why and to be honest I guess I’m not sure. I think maybe I’m having a “Bruce Almighty” kind of moment when I look around and think that God could be doing better. And it isn’t even the usual “big” questions like the existence of evil or anything I see on the evening news. For me it has been more about the people around me. People who are facing tough things; unemployment, cancer (again), other health problems for them or their loved ones, divorce… I guess the usual list of things. But lately I just feel like no one can get a break. And if they could, wow, what a difference it could make. But I know that I don’t know everything and God knows what he is doing. He has showed me that personally time and time again. But still I’m kind of mad… and God and I aren’t talking.
Or maybe I’m not talking but He is… and I’m not listening.
Last week I picked up my oldest daughter Jessica from school and the first thing she did when she saw me was whip out the Easter egg she had colored at school. Not a real egg but a big paper cutout with lines all over. It was pretty, she did a good job. But I had number of things to do that afternoon including a hospital visit, so I hustled her to the car. “I’ve got to visit someone in the hospital today. Do you want to go with me or should I take you home?’” I asked. She said she’d go with me but wanted to know who was sick. I told her it was Mel, who is 98, he was in the hospital, again. So we made the drive to the hospital and the whole way Jessica told me about her egg and how much she liked it and could we frame it and hang it, not on the refrigerator like most of the time, but in her room. It was too beautiful and too important for even the refrigerator. I said something like, “Sure whatever…” We reached the hospital and I parked and walked around to help her out of the van. She jumped down and turned to look at her egg lying on her backpack. I didn’t say anything but I could see the wheels turning as she grabbed the egg and followed me into the hospital.
In the elevator people commented on how pretty it was and Jessica thanked them politely. We got off on our floor and made our way to Mel’s room. He was sitting up finishing his lunch but when he recognized us he sat up even straighter and greeted us with a big “hello!” And as you can guess by now Jessica walked up to Mel and gave him her egg and said, “I hope you feel better.” And as you can also guess Mel was excited, thanked her and placed it on his lap.
The visit went on and Mel told how great he was doing and what a great job the nurses were doing and how he even prayed with a few of them. He also said, as he often does, that he was ready to go when either Jesus or the doctors said it was time. Jessica chimed in a few times, especially to remind Mel not to chew with his mouth open…
And as we left the hospital Jessica got a little sad and said “Daddy, I really wanted to hang that Egg in my room.” I replied, “I know, so why did you give it to Mel?” She gave me a look as if I had asked her why she liked Barbie and said “Because he’s sick dad, he needs it.”
When your job is to help people understand and connect with God you can’t help but recognize the irony and the appropriateness of God using a 5 year old girl and 98-year-old man to remind a 37 year-old pastor of what He is doing.
Because the paradox is that God could just give the word and put an end to the problems of all those around me, put an end to the problems of the world. But for some reason he wants us to join him.
Read John 21:15-19 (http://www.biblegateway.com)
Actually God did give the Word and put and end to all of it, so the paradox is that even after Jesus has shown that he holds all things in his hands, even life and death, he still asks people to help. For the disciples he ends the same way he began, “Follow Me.” And it took a 98 year-old man in the hospital praying for his caretakers and a 5 year-old girl giving away her Easter egg to remind me, “Take care of my sheep.”
So I know God is still talking to me even though we’re fighting, or I guess I’m fighting. And I’m trying the silent treatment even though he keeps leaving me messages. And to be honest I’m still kind of mad. But I know what he is telling me. I know he is saying, “Follow me.” He is saying, “I’m going to visit the sick, the lonely, the hurting, the despairing. Do you want to go with me?”
P.S. I went and saw Mel at home yesterday. He had that Easter egg hanging in his room on his dresser mirror. Maybe it was too pretty for the refrigerator…
Which is of course ridiculous because I can’t take God. Jacob may have wrestled with God but I’m not Jacob and I haven’t wrestled since High School. So instead, God and I seem to be in a very common place for people in a relationship, we aren’t talking. We are giving each other the silent treatment.
Which of course leads you to ask why and to be honest I guess I’m not sure. I think maybe I’m having a “Bruce Almighty” kind of moment when I look around and think that God could be doing better. And it isn’t even the usual “big” questions like the existence of evil or anything I see on the evening news. For me it has been more about the people around me. People who are facing tough things; unemployment, cancer (again), other health problems for them or their loved ones, divorce… I guess the usual list of things. But lately I just feel like no one can get a break. And if they could, wow, what a difference it could make. But I know that I don’t know everything and God knows what he is doing. He has showed me that personally time and time again. But still I’m kind of mad… and God and I aren’t talking.
Or maybe I’m not talking but He is… and I’m not listening.
Last week I picked up my oldest daughter Jessica from school and the first thing she did when she saw me was whip out the Easter egg she had colored at school. Not a real egg but a big paper cutout with lines all over. It was pretty, she did a good job. But I had number of things to do that afternoon including a hospital visit, so I hustled her to the car. “I’ve got to visit someone in the hospital today. Do you want to go with me or should I take you home?’” I asked. She said she’d go with me but wanted to know who was sick. I told her it was Mel, who is 98, he was in the hospital, again. So we made the drive to the hospital and the whole way Jessica told me about her egg and how much she liked it and could we frame it and hang it, not on the refrigerator like most of the time, but in her room. It was too beautiful and too important for even the refrigerator. I said something like, “Sure whatever…” We reached the hospital and I parked and walked around to help her out of the van. She jumped down and turned to look at her egg lying on her backpack. I didn’t say anything but I could see the wheels turning as she grabbed the egg and followed me into the hospital.
In the elevator people commented on how pretty it was and Jessica thanked them politely. We got off on our floor and made our way to Mel’s room. He was sitting up finishing his lunch but when he recognized us he sat up even straighter and greeted us with a big “hello!” And as you can guess by now Jessica walked up to Mel and gave him her egg and said, “I hope you feel better.” And as you can also guess Mel was excited, thanked her and placed it on his lap.
The visit went on and Mel told how great he was doing and what a great job the nurses were doing and how he even prayed with a few of them. He also said, as he often does, that he was ready to go when either Jesus or the doctors said it was time. Jessica chimed in a few times, especially to remind Mel not to chew with his mouth open…
And as we left the hospital Jessica got a little sad and said “Daddy, I really wanted to hang that Egg in my room.” I replied, “I know, so why did you give it to Mel?” She gave me a look as if I had asked her why she liked Barbie and said “Because he’s sick dad, he needs it.”
When your job is to help people understand and connect with God you can’t help but recognize the irony and the appropriateness of God using a 5 year old girl and 98-year-old man to remind a 37 year-old pastor of what He is doing.
Because the paradox is that God could just give the word and put an end to the problems of all those around me, put an end to the problems of the world. But for some reason he wants us to join him.
Read John 21:15-19 (http://www.biblegateway.com)
Actually God did give the Word and put and end to all of it, so the paradox is that even after Jesus has shown that he holds all things in his hands, even life and death, he still asks people to help. For the disciples he ends the same way he began, “Follow Me.” And it took a 98 year-old man in the hospital praying for his caretakers and a 5 year-old girl giving away her Easter egg to remind me, “Take care of my sheep.”
So I know God is still talking to me even though we’re fighting, or I guess I’m fighting. And I’m trying the silent treatment even though he keeps leaving me messages. And to be honest I’m still kind of mad. But I know what he is telling me. I know he is saying, “Follow me.” He is saying, “I’m going to visit the sick, the lonely, the hurting, the despairing. Do you want to go with me?”
P.S. I went and saw Mel at home yesterday. He had that Easter egg hanging in his room on his dresser mirror. Maybe it was too pretty for the refrigerator…
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
New
Sometimes I worry that I have a serious addiction…I think I’m addicted to NEW. I love new things. I especially have a problem with the latest technology; cell phones, computers, iPods, you get the idea. In fact, this addiction has gotten so bad that last week I dropped my cell phone in the toilet, and deep inside my brain - as the phone was falling – I think I might have thought, “Good, now I can get a new phone.” It is so bad that I think Julie thinks I meant to drop it. I have a new cell phone and it is awesome but I just saw a commercial for the iPhone and I’m thinking of trying to text on my phone while I do the dishes with the garbage disposal running… New things just don’t stay new long enough.
For most of those who call themselves Christians this week is known as Holy Week. It is the week in which Christians remember and reflect upon the events which took place the week before the death and resurrection of Jesus. The Big Day of course is Good Friday (Easter Sunday is technically a new week) and the events upon which most reflect is Jesus’ suffering and death. So begins the familiar Christian practice of thinking of our sins and how Jesus died to pay the debt of those sins. I think this is a very helpful practice. But as with most things that are familiar I wonder if we are forgetting part of the story.
I have a favorite part in the movie “The Passion of the Christ” and I consider it nothing short of brilliant. It takes place as Jesus is carrying his cross, he stumbles carrying the cross and his mother runs to him and Jesus says, “See mother, I make all things new.” There is no record of Jesus saying this in any of the Christian Gospels but Jesus does say it in the book of Revelation. (Rev. 21:5) I think that scene with its contrast will stay with me forever. Jesus is beaten and bloody, stumbling from the weight he carries. But still he can see beyond what ours eyes can see. He sees the result. He sees the end. He sees and says, “I make all things new.”
And I wonder if that is what we’ve forgotten in our Holy Week habits. That while it is absolutely true and absolutely awesome that Jesus dies in our place, to focus on only that fact is to limit, and perhaps diminish all of what God has done. That death on that cross in that place so long ago does mean the forgiveness of all our sins, our failures, our selfishness. It means the end to all that keeps us from knowing God and knowing his love for us. It is the end of all my fears and failures and faults. It is the end of the old me.
Read Romans 6:1-10 (http://www.biblegateway.com/)
But it also means the beginning of something new. It means the beginning of a new me. And not just a new me once, it means a new me everyday. It means a new me every moment. In fact, I think this new is a totally “one of kind” kind of new. This is the kind of new where it actually gets newer! Each day that I leave the old me dead at the cross and look instead to new life Christ gives me I might even be “newer” than the day before. One step closer, one moment nearer to the new person God is recreating me to be.
That never happens with a new car or cell phone or computer or set of clothes. Those things are all getting closer and closer to old, closer to broken. But God has just begun with my newness, and despite what my eyes see or how I feel or what is going on with my body and mind, God is making me new. I am not who I was.
I’m not sure what your Holy Week practice might be but I hope it will include thinking about and thanking God for sending his Son in order to save us. But I also hope that you might think about and thank God for “making all things new.” I pray that we all might have the eyes to see things, not as they are, but as God is re-making them…New.
For most of those who call themselves Christians this week is known as Holy Week. It is the week in which Christians remember and reflect upon the events which took place the week before the death and resurrection of Jesus. The Big Day of course is Good Friday (Easter Sunday is technically a new week) and the events upon which most reflect is Jesus’ suffering and death. So begins the familiar Christian practice of thinking of our sins and how Jesus died to pay the debt of those sins. I think this is a very helpful practice. But as with most things that are familiar I wonder if we are forgetting part of the story.
I have a favorite part in the movie “The Passion of the Christ” and I consider it nothing short of brilliant. It takes place as Jesus is carrying his cross, he stumbles carrying the cross and his mother runs to him and Jesus says, “See mother, I make all things new.” There is no record of Jesus saying this in any of the Christian Gospels but Jesus does say it in the book of Revelation. (Rev. 21:5) I think that scene with its contrast will stay with me forever. Jesus is beaten and bloody, stumbling from the weight he carries. But still he can see beyond what ours eyes can see. He sees the result. He sees the end. He sees and says, “I make all things new.”
And I wonder if that is what we’ve forgotten in our Holy Week habits. That while it is absolutely true and absolutely awesome that Jesus dies in our place, to focus on only that fact is to limit, and perhaps diminish all of what God has done. That death on that cross in that place so long ago does mean the forgiveness of all our sins, our failures, our selfishness. It means the end to all that keeps us from knowing God and knowing his love for us. It is the end of all my fears and failures and faults. It is the end of the old me.
Read Romans 6:1-10 (http://www.biblegateway.com/)
But it also means the beginning of something new. It means the beginning of a new me. And not just a new me once, it means a new me everyday. It means a new me every moment. In fact, I think this new is a totally “one of kind” kind of new. This is the kind of new where it actually gets newer! Each day that I leave the old me dead at the cross and look instead to new life Christ gives me I might even be “newer” than the day before. One step closer, one moment nearer to the new person God is recreating me to be.
That never happens with a new car or cell phone or computer or set of clothes. Those things are all getting closer and closer to old, closer to broken. But God has just begun with my newness, and despite what my eyes see or how I feel or what is going on with my body and mind, God is making me new. I am not who I was.
I’m not sure what your Holy Week practice might be but I hope it will include thinking about and thanking God for sending his Son in order to save us. But I also hope that you might think about and thank God for “making all things new.” I pray that we all might have the eyes to see things, not as they are, but as God is re-making them…New.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Fool
April rushed in today with its usual merriment, that wonderful day of pranks and gags. I was curious and did a little research about the origins of April Fools’ Day but didn’t find anything all that interesting. I’ve always wondered if it had anything to do with the Eastern Orthodox practice of telling jokes on Easter to remember the “joke” God played on the devil with Jesus’ resurrection. But alas no insight there either…
Yet the day has reminded me how much I like pulling April Fools’ jokes and even better, thwarting other people’s jokes! Maybe that’s because I, like most people, never like being the fool. From the playground in pre-school, to the locker room in high school, to the boardroom of corporate America, to the bedroom of husband and wife; no one wants to be the fool.
Read 1 Corinthians 1:18-30 (check out http://www.biblegateway.com for a easy way to find it)
So, to be honest, I’ve never really understood what Paul was talking about when he wrote, “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (1 Corinthians 1:27) I mean I’ve understood in my head but never really been able to put into words what it looks like. How do you tell someone to be a fool for Jesus, don’t we have enough TV evangelists?
But then I had children and learned what it really means to play the fool. From the moment I uttered my first “cootchie coo” and on until now when the girls “do my hair” in bows, I’ve been the fool. In fact, as time goes on, it seems that I accept this more and more as a way of life. If I’m not careful I might even end up in a princess dress next Halloween! There seems no end my foolishness when it comes to my children. It is almost as if the outside world doesn’t even exist, as if I don’t care how I look in the eyes of the world. All that matters is how I look in their eyes.
And maybe that is the kind of foolishness that Paul is talking about. Not the bumbling Jerry Lewis kind of fool, but the kind of fool that doesn’t care or even know how he is seen. The kind of fool who only focuses on those whom he loves. Because that’s the kind of foolishness that God seems to have. That’s the kind of fool God seems to be. No matter how foolish we are he never stops loving us. No matter how senseless the choices me make, no matter how insane the paths we choose he always loves us. How it must look to the rest of the world that he could be so foolish, to let his children walk all over him. How foolhardy to allow them another chance… again. What a fool to give them everything and spare nothing … not even his own Son.
In fact there may only be one thing more foolish than a parent’s unconditional love - Our Father’s unconditional love for us.
Happy April Fools’ Day…. Go ahead and play the fool!
Yet the day has reminded me how much I like pulling April Fools’ jokes and even better, thwarting other people’s jokes! Maybe that’s because I, like most people, never like being the fool. From the playground in pre-school, to the locker room in high school, to the boardroom of corporate America, to the bedroom of husband and wife; no one wants to be the fool.
Read 1 Corinthians 1:18-30 (check out http://www.biblegateway.com for a easy way to find it)
So, to be honest, I’ve never really understood what Paul was talking about when he wrote, “But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (1 Corinthians 1:27) I mean I’ve understood in my head but never really been able to put into words what it looks like. How do you tell someone to be a fool for Jesus, don’t we have enough TV evangelists?
But then I had children and learned what it really means to play the fool. From the moment I uttered my first “cootchie coo” and on until now when the girls “do my hair” in bows, I’ve been the fool. In fact, as time goes on, it seems that I accept this more and more as a way of life. If I’m not careful I might even end up in a princess dress next Halloween! There seems no end my foolishness when it comes to my children. It is almost as if the outside world doesn’t even exist, as if I don’t care how I look in the eyes of the world. All that matters is how I look in their eyes.
And maybe that is the kind of foolishness that Paul is talking about. Not the bumbling Jerry Lewis kind of fool, but the kind of fool that doesn’t care or even know how he is seen. The kind of fool who only focuses on those whom he loves. Because that’s the kind of foolishness that God seems to have. That’s the kind of fool God seems to be. No matter how foolish we are he never stops loving us. No matter how senseless the choices me make, no matter how insane the paths we choose he always loves us. How it must look to the rest of the world that he could be so foolish, to let his children walk all over him. How foolhardy to allow them another chance… again. What a fool to give them everything and spare nothing … not even his own Son.
In fact there may only be one thing more foolish than a parent’s unconditional love - Our Father’s unconditional love for us.
Happy April Fools’ Day…. Go ahead and play the fool!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
