FORGIVENESS, NOT VENGEANCE

Then the Spirit of God clothed Zechariah the son of Jehoiada the priest, and he stood above the people, and said to them, “Thus says God, ‘Why do you break the commandments of the LORD, so that you cannot prosper? Because you have forsaken the LORD, he has forsaken you.’” But they conspired against him, and by command of the king they stoned him with stones in the court of the house of the LORD. Thus Joash the king did not remember the kindness that Jehoiada, Zechariah's father, had shown him, but killed his son. And when he was dying, he said, “May the LORD see and avenge! (2 Chronicles 24:20-22)

Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. (Luke 23:32-34 ESV)

In the first passage, Zechariah speaks harsh words of God to Joash, who is displeased and commands the prophet's death. This despite the fact that Zechariah was the son of Jehoiada, the priest who did so much for Joash. As Zechariah was dying, he utters a curse on Joash.

In the second passage, Jesus is crucified because people were upset with his words, his claims. This despite the fact that Jesus was the son of God, the one who did so much for the very people now calling for and carrying out his son's murder. But instead of a curse, Jesus utters words of forgiveness as he dies.

I feel gratitude and awe welling up in me, and am reminded of the day I finished my first reading of the entire Bible.

SMALL

There are some hardships that strike you in the face with the appalling truth of how small you truly are.

Strangely, there are some blessings that do the same.

HIS MIRTH

  Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian. And as I close this chaotic volume I open again the strange small book from which all Christianity came; and I am again haunted by a kind of confirmation. The tremendous figure which fills the Gospels towers in this respect, as in every other, above all the thinkers who ever thought themselves tall. His pathos was natural, almost casual. The Stoics, ancient and modern, were proud of concealing their tears. He never concealed His tears; He showed them plainly on His open face at any daily sight, such as the far sight of His native city. Yet He concealed something.

  Solemn supermen and imperial diplomatists are proud of restraining their anger. He never restrained His anger. He flung furniture down the front steps of the Temple, and asked men how they expected to escape the damnation of Hell. Yet He restrained something. I say it with reverence; there was in that shattering personality a thread that must be called shyness. There was something that He hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.

- the closing words of "Orthodoxy" by G.K. Chesterton

SEEK ME, LET THEM GO

Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. So, if you seek me, let these men go.” (John 18:8 ESV)

In the beginning of John 18, Jesus does everything he can to be captured:

• he went to a garden where he often took his disciples, including Judas, knowing what would happen
• he "came forward" and met his captors
• he initiated the conversation by asking, "Whom do you seek?"
• he answered by simply confirming that "I am he"
• when his captors were astounded at his answer, he asked again, "Whom do you seek?"
• he answered again by confirming that "I am he"

He did not cower, nor did he waver. Jesus confronted his death, head-on -- even further, he chose death, and is the only one ever to do so.

Earlier in John, Jesus spoke again and again of being sought by his disciples, who he said wouldn't be able to go where he was going. But here in John 18, Jesus is sought and found by his captors. He allows himself to be sought and found by them in order to be thrust to a cruel end.

Why?

To free his disciples -- physically, yes, but in the greatest sense as well.

Jesus knows the enemy's pursuit to kill him, the only one who can threaten his evil reign. He knows that he's the only one worth pursuing, by his friends and his enemies. So, to accomplish his purpose, I AM allows himself to be caught in order that his people would have freedom, speaking as if to the enemy himself.

The Gospel is a mighty lion caged within this one verse, ready to be unleashed by all who care to understand.

I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN

So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. (John 16:22 ESV, emphasis added)

In John 16, Jesus spends many of his words warning his disciples of hardships to come. In verse 22, he speaks of their sorrow when he must leave them for a little while, but he also offers comfort.

I noticed something peculiar about the way Jesus phrased this comfort -- the words in bold.

When I think of a lover leaving his beloved for a short while, I hear him telling his darling something along the lines of, "You're sad now, but you will see me again, and you will rejoice." It would be a bit odd if he were to say, "You're sad now, but I will see you again, and you will rejoice."

After all, what would his vision of his beloved have to do with her joy?

But it seems to me that this is the wrong way of looking at this. Instead, I'll conjecture that when Jesus says "but I will see you again," he is betraying his humility and humanness in a wonderfully subtle yet moving way. The emphasis in his comfort is that he will see his disciples again, not that they will see him.

When the lover assures his beloved that she will see him again, the emphasis, the weight is placed on him -- on his face being seen.

However, when the lover assures his beloved that he will see her again, the emphasis, the weight is placed on her -- on her face being seen.

Jesus is fully justified in placing the emphasis on himself and himself alone, yet he doesn't. His emphasis was, is and will always be on us, his beloved, together with him.

KNOCKED UP (WITH LOVE)

Here's something I wrote back in 2007, unedited:

I saw the film 'Knocked Up' twice this week, and I think it's a very good movie.  I mean, it's quite vulgar, and I hope that teenagers don't get the idea that having unprotected intercourse will end up fine and dandy, but it's a solid film.  It's a great blend of comedy (consistent like dough in bread, not like blueberries in a blueberry muffin...wait, did I make sense?) with a substantial storyline that is steered almost flawlessly by the actors.  I really liked this movie.

(By the way, the most underrated scene involves Ryan Seacrest.  There's no way he was acting that.)

There were loads of great scenes, but the hotel room scene with the five chairs was definitely one of the standouts.  It wasn't just hilarious, but I really think that in their drugged out state, Ben and Pete actually experienced a significant moment of clarity and understanding.  As ironic as that is, I really think that's what made this scene so special.

I want to discuss Pete's epiphany.  While he was freaking out about the chairs in the hotel room, Pete realizes (out loud) that the reason why his marriage is in trouble is the fact that his wife loves him.

"The biggest problem in our marriage is that she wants me around.  And I can't even accept that?  I don't think I can accept pure love," he says.

I really liked this part of the script.  Not only did it strangely make complete sense for Pete's situation (and I'm sure many relationships/marriages), but it makes sense for those of us who aren't even in relationships or married.

It seems to me that the main, foundational, driving reason why Christians struggle in their faith is the fact that they cannot accept "pure love" and what it entails.

What I think I mean is that because God's love is perfect, it demands us.  It does not demand anything of us, but it demands us.  God wants us around.

But this is the problem for us, isn't it?  Because we are sinful we do not want God around so much.  Yes, we desire his hand in our lives when we are in need, and of course there are many times when we genuinely desire him.  However, we always seem to draw lines around the areas of our lives that he can totally possess.

Our Lord always wants to speak with us (with, not just to), he is always waiting for us to share our thoughts and troubles and joys with him, he is always desiring to have us fully...not only because we are rightfully his, but because in his perfect love he desires our very best.

Oswald Chambers said, "The great enemy of the life of faith in God is not sin, but the good which is not good enough. The good is always the enemy of the best."

Because we desire God's good we think that is enough.  We turn our backs to him whenever he tries to offer us his best...namely, himself.  We have no problem accepting his gifts, but we do have a problem accepting him.

Do you need proof of his love?  Do you need a visual example of how much he loves us?  Look no further than the cross, where Christ died for us so that we might experience the perfect love of our Father.  Still, for whatever reasons, we turn our backs on what that perfect love offers us.

For me, the most practical thing this boils down to is my time.  Yes, I have work and various other obligations.  But do I spurn my Father with the time I have left?  I know he wants to spend time with me because he has great things to say and show to me, but for some reason that's a problem for me.  To be honest, there are many days where I won't spend more than 10-20 minutes reading the Bible or praying.  And still I feel somewhat smothered by God's love and desire to spend time with me.  It becomes an inconvenience to me.

I am like Pete.  The biggest problem in my relationship with God is that he wants me around.

This old man in me, this sinful vestige is harnessing me to this wretched state.  I don't say that to clear me of blame, but that is an undeniable fact.  The old, sinful man in me cannot accept God's pure love...yet.  I am looking forward to the day when that will change.

For now, I put my hope in (wouldn't you know it?) that perfect love of our Lord, because I know in it there is forgiveness, mercy, and a sure promise of progress and eventual perfection in the years to come.

  Why do you mean so much to me?  Help me to find words to explain.  Why do I mean so much to you, that you should command me to love you?  And if I fail to love you, you are angry and threaten me with great sorrow, as if not to love you were not sorrow enough in itself.  Have pity on me and help me, O Lord my God.  Tell me why you mean so much to me.  - Saint Augustine

WAITING ALONE

Here's something I wrote back in 2008, unedited:

Well, I'm almost fully moved into my new studio apartment in Evanston, IL. I'll try to post photos later on.

Last night I was given the privilege of eating some Lou Malnati's pizza. It was delicious. (Maybe better than Giordano's.)

However, during the early part of the dinner, I noticed a woman sitting by herself at a table near ours. I was burdened by that scene, because I wanted so badly for her not to be stood up by someone. So, for a good 20 minutes I made sure to monitor her situation in the corner of my left eye, and for a good 20 minutes my fear that she would be stood up grew bigger and bigger. With it, my pity towards her ballooned.

To my relief and, strangely, happiness, her party eventually came (late, it seemed). Two men and a woman, with one man walking over to her side of the table and kissing her gently on the lips.

Disaster avoided, burden lifted, pity put to shame.

I was glad.

The one thing I noticed was her unwavering self-assurance. The woman never looked worried as she sat alone at the table. She seemed sure that her table would soon be filled, no matter how delayed.

It seems to me that this is an accurate depiction of what Christians appear to be to some non-believers. We spend so all our lives waiting for our friend to show up and rescue us from our loneliness. We (should) wait with confidence because of the pattern of faithfulness that he has already shown, and has promised to show.

"Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God." - 2 Corinthians 3:4 (ESV)

"For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end." - Hebrews 3:14 (ESV)

Non-believers doubt that he will ever join us (or that he's even real), and some point and mock, while others just shake their heads and pity us.

I hope that we will be able to wait as confidently as that woman. The reactions we get from those around us do not matter one smidgen. We are only meant to wait with full assurance, patience, and joy.

However, this isn't where our part stops. We are even charged to eagerly and urgently invite others to join our table. It is our responsibility to tell them that our friend is worth more than their patronization, and that he renders their sympathy unnecessary.

We'll see many join the ranks of the empty tables, while others will lose faith and leave. But a steady course must be maintained. Our good friend will surely join us soon.

And in the end, a gentle kiss will be found.

HAPPINESS VS. JOY

"The difference between shallow happiness and a deep, sustaining joy is sorrow. Happiness lives where sorrow is not. When sorrow arrives, happiness dies. It can't stand pain. Joy, on the other hand, rises from sorrow and therefore can withstand all grief. Joy, by the grace of God, is the transfiguration of suffering into endurance, and of endurance into character, and of character into hope--and the hope that has become our joy does not (as happiness must for those who depend upon it) disappoint us." - Walter Wangerin Jr.

FAIR-WEATHER JOY

One of my co-workers walked into the office this morning sporting a New York Giants hat. He wasn't alone: I saw a few people wearing Giants apparel in and around our building today. It was notable because in my approximately 1.8 years working in this office building, I don't recall ever seeing a single person wearing Giants gear. Then there were the countless people on Facebook changing their profile photos to show Giants logos and players.

I understood why this was, of course. The Giants won a thrilling game last night and earned a spot in the Super Bowl. The team's fans, though contributing nothing to the thing they were celebrating, had a right to boast and be happy. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of emerging Giants fans today, both online and off-line. While I didn't doubt their allegiance, I wondered why these fans didn't display such conspicuous pride for their team until today.

Then I began turning this lens on myself, the only fair thing to do. I began searching my own heart for this inclination toward timely, fair-weather pride, and it took me less than a minute to find it.

There's not a shade of doubt in my head or my heart that I love God. Though my actions and inactivity, my words and silence often betray otherwise, I do love him. He is the only good part of my life. No, actually, he is much more than that. Exclude "the only good part of" and that sentence rings truer. To call anything "good" apart from him is akin to calling today's weather "cupcakes." It's nonsensical, for apart from him I am not.

I am also certain that God has assured victory for me, and not an incremental one that takes me to yet another battle. He has defeated death -- the final opponent -- in all its forms. Depressions that seek to murder my soul, perversions that seek to rape my thoughts, false whispers that seek to seduce my pride -- these, and more, are all defanged. My God has destroyed all my opposition, everything that would seek to drag me away from my love to unimaginable perdition. Not only did he win, but he confers the benefits of his victory to me, though I had not a single mite to do with it. No, not even that: He grants me its glorious benefits though I was a lifeless heap of evil on the wrong side of the war. It's as if he conquered the opposite trench, animated one of the adversary's sand bags and awarded it a victor's homecoming.

Yes, all this he did for me. Yet, somehow, I fail to express sufficient joy in this. There are those rare days when I do sense this victory in a very real way, and on those occasions I may wear my allegiance to my good Father on my sleeve. But on most days, I do not sense this and go on with my life as one who does not have this victory to beat his chest about.

So, no, I don't scoff at Giants fans for donning their hats, jackets and new profile photos today. If not now, when?

I only wonder how such a small victory in an inconsequential game could draw such joy and pride from some, when an infinitely greater triumph in the only arena of life that matters could draw so little out of me.

For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? This is he who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by the water only but by the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. (1 John 5:4-6 ESV)

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 ESV)

YOUR MOVE, CHIEF

Here's something I wrote back in 2009, unedited:

I was riding the Purple Line express back home today and realized that I really enjoy getting those quick peeks into the buildings that the train passes in the downtown area.

I like catching glimpses of people running on treadmills, boxing heavy bags, studying for exams, working in their cubicles... I don't know why really. I just like it.

Then I realized that my knowledge of these people was limited to those fleeting seconds that I was allowed to see them. The woman on the treadmill is...a runner. The guy boxing the heavy bag is...a boxer. The people studying in the Kaplan room are...students. The people working in cubicles are...office drones.

But would I ever dare to claim that I knew these people? Absolutely not!

Then why do I do this with God?

Why do I presume to know God, sufficiently, after just...a good sermon on a Sunday, a good time spent reading the Bible and praying, a good retreat or revival...after such short, meager portions?

Our infinite God can't be so easily and quickly known - but our comfort is that he knows us. This is why, I think, Paul paused to clarify his meaning in Galatians 4:9, when he said, "But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles?" (NIV, emphasis added)

He knows us - not in snapshots, but in an unflinching fullness. He sees our best, worst and most mundane moments and still, he loves us.

How can I be so content with such brief glimpses of this God?

In closing, I would like to share this clip (my favorite) from "Good Will Hunting," which, I think, highlights my point. It includes some coarse language, but we're all adults here.

ALONE

Here's something I wrote back in 2008, unedited:

"You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created." - C.S. Lewis

Living alone has been mostly enjoyable so far. The pros have considerably outweighed the cons. It might have to do with the newness of it all, since I have never lived alone before, but still, it is pleasing to me.

I get to bask in my introvertedness for most of my evenings, and I like that.

I've heard people say they want to live alone because they desire to be away from people that annoy them at home.

While I am not one of those people, I have found that the appeal of being away from the annoyance of other people is a fleeting, if not false benefit of living by yourself.

I can only speak for myself, but I have found that the more I am alone, the more I annoys me.  Terrible grammar, I know, but it's the best way I know how to say it.

Especially as a student who is constantly being humbled and challenged, there are many sober realizations as I look into that proverbial mirror, which has become ubiquitous somehow.

I constantly wonder - after more than 26 years of living, is this all I have become? Is this the furthest point I've reached so far in my life? Mentally, physically, spiritually, is this the zenith of my existence-to-date? Is this the return on all the investments poured into me?

Immediate sadness, regret and resignation imbues my heart, and at once I become irritated with me.

I realize that no matter where I am, no matter who I am with or not with, I am my own permanent roommate. I cannot get rid of me or leave me and instead choose another me.

Still, I begrudgingly count this as a benefit to living alone.

Because in this isolated condition, each passing minute feels more measured, deliberate and meaningful as I become familiar with what is approaching.

I cannot help but to bear with me, and I am led to believe that God also cannot help but to bear with me in the same manner, though he is glad to.

Just as I am alone with me, God, unbounded by time and place, is alone with me, every second of my miserable being.

The difference, I am trying to understand, is while I am unhappy to be stuck with myself, God is infinitely happy to have me as his - not because of who I appear to be in my own eyes, but because of who I actually am in his.

The rest of my years will be mostly the same - I will continue to be disappointed with who I am, and he will continue to be pleased with who I am becoming and have already become.

My joy is knowing that his pleasure will eventually meet with my discouragement - and his sentiment will win and overcome mine, and will evenbecome mine.

It will be a delight like none other I have ever known, because it will, for the first time, be absent of me. That joy will finally be one that is perfectly calibrated and wonderfully aimed.

The struggle to embrace this thought allows me to dig further underneath what I see and to hold my head a bit higher as I tolerate me, alone.

"This is not a perfect illustration, of course. But it may give just a glimpse of what I believe to be the truth. God is not hurried along in the Time-stream of this universe any more than an author is hurried along in the imaginary time of his own novel. He has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created. When Christ died, He died for you individually just as much as if you had been the only man in the world." - C.S. Lewis

"They say of some temporal suffering, "No future bliss can make up for it," not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory." - C.S. Lewis

JOSH GARRELS: 'RISE'

I hung my head, for the last time
In surrender and despair
Before I’m dead, I’ll take the last climb
Up the mountain, face my fears
The time has come, to make a choice
Use my voice for the love of every man
My mind's made up, never again
Never again, will I turn round

Though they may surround me like lions
And crush me on all sides
I may fall, but I will rise
Not by my might, or my power, or by the strength of swords
Only through, your love, my lord
All we’ve lost, will be, restored

Take courage sons, for we must go under
The heart of darkness, and set them free
But don’t lose heart when you see the numbers
There’s no measure for, the faith we bring
It’s given us, to overcome
If we run, where the spirit calls us on
The greatest things, have yet to come
With the dawn, we will rise

Though they may surround us like lions
And crush us on all sides
we may fall, but we will rise
Not by my might, or my power, or by the strength of swords
Only through, your love, my lord
All we’ve lost, will be, restored