Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s something else, but lately I’ve been obsessively fantasizing, and even had dreams about, going back and starting over…beginning with my Freshman Year in High School.  Like I said, I’m not sure what prompted this thought process, but I’ve been imagining what it would be like to know everything I know now, including my life as it has played out, and return into my 14-year-old body with my 65-year-old mind AND know my future, as it played out once.

Think of the confidence, wisdom, and knowledge that would come from the years of experience that wasn’t there when I actually WAS in High School.

I’ve imagined the differences and how much better I’d play out my life because of my knowledge and experience now:

• My friendship with God would be much improved, and my confidence in His love and sacrifice for ME would be stronger…which would affect everything, and every choice…and chisel my identity.
• I would give my parents a break.  I wasn’t a bad kid, but I sure would appreciate them more.  I’d love my Mom more, I’d build things with Dad.  I’d “help”.
• I’d love my friends more, and adjust my life to make them happy. Having no siblings (which I would NOT change) I counted on my friends too much, without allowing them the ability to count on me.  As I’ve aged I have realized that “relationships are EVERYTHING”.
• I would do less “church” stuff and more “school” stuff. I realize now that I allowed my home church to “sequester” me, when Jesus really would’ve had me BE the church myself: to my friends, “salt” and “light”, if you will…as opposed to using the church as a “club” of “haves” and viewing those outside of my church as the “have-nots”. I know, a weird thing for a Preacher to say, but I would’ve gone to church less, and gone to football games and dances more.  At the same time, I would cultivate my personal doctrine, practice my faith and recognize Jesus when I see Him, personally.
• I would’ve found one adult, who wasn’t a parent, to trust and open up to. I wanted to be honest about what I felt, and who I was, with someone who was old enough to listen and wise enough to know they didn’t need to fix it…just so that SOMEONE would know me, and hear me talk it out.
• I would start lifting weights at 14, and not stop…wow, I’d look good by this point!  But I’d also not shy away from eating the great junk food that crowds into a teenager’s life.
• I would learn more instruments and read more books.
• I would buy the same first car. (1972 Plymouth Duster, Army Green…slant six, four-on-the-floor).
• I would’ve used more hair product, grown it longer…and worn my puka shells in my Senior Picture, despite my mom’s warning that it “would make my Senior look too dated, years from then”
• I would fall in love more, and allow my heart to break more. I now know that love is everything and heartbreaks heal. (“It is better to have loved and lost….” and all that)
  

…and then I got to:

• I would make different choices…

And that’s where the epiphany happened.

Different choices would mean different consequences, which would lead to different paths, which would lead to a different future and lead to a different “me”.

Of course.

The choices I was thinking of were things like: I wouldn’t have jumped into that parking lot fight, to help a buddy, in college (where I walked away bloody and should’ve gone to the campus doctor, but was afraid to because the fight was about something less than legal and we would’ve ALL been suspended) …or… I shouldn’t have hooked up with my friend, Mitch, who led me and some others into a world where we were constantly dodging “the law”.  I wouldn’t have chosen the first college I attended, but rather spent all my years at the college I graduated from…

…I would’ve chosen to be honest about myself and lived my life for God alone to judge.

HOWEVER…It is precisely through (not BECAUSE) of those choices that I am where I am today…which is a GOOD place. 

It was THROUGH my choice of colleges that I not only gained much needed “transition-from-home-to-my-own-life” education, but where I discovered God in other denominations, other people, and other ways, and made lifetime friends.  It was precisely BECAUSE of my first school that I landed an acceptance into the Music Institute from which I graduated.

IN FACT, looking at my entire life, even my poor choices (ones that led me to disaster, failure, or at the least, bumpy roads) brought me…

…here.

On the other side of the journey, there is knowledge to be gained, beauty to be appreciated and love to express.  The Spirit never abandoned me, always protected me, and always turned my “straw to gold”.  There are many, many parts of my life I would not wish on anyone, and decisions I would hope no one else would make…but the place I am NOW is a destination I would wish for everyone.   And the Spirit of God has used every person, every moment, and the consequence of every good and bad decision…to get me here and now.

And so, though there are things I wish I knew then, and confidence, knowledge and wisdom I wish I had…the blessings I have received, the life that I have, I would not trade for all the bacon in North Carolina…or all the bourbon in Tennessee.

Again, I say what the Spirit teaches:

Every moment has its time.
Every person has their place.
Don’t brush aside either.
Or you may also brush aside
God’s wish for you to either
ENJOY a miracle,
or BE a miracle.

Last week, as I was organizing, I ran into an old, battered, paperback Bible that I received in my “youth”.  On the cover, in some 1970’s-type font, were the bold words, “GOOD NEWS”. 

I looked at it, and said the words aloud, “Good News”. It’s all supposed to be GOOD news.  Everything I do as a teacher/preacher at my church is supposed to be about GOOD news…hmmm.

Ironic…would Jesus recognize what we, as churches and ministers, offer as “good news”?  When He walked the earth with us, He spent much of His time reminding that church leadership of the day that His Father was all about GOOD NEWS.  He then reminded them that the church shouldn’t take it upon themselves to make up new rules to try to HELP God, because they just make things more difficult.  It’s really quite simple, He insited, it’s GOOD news.  Everything my Father does is about GOOD news. The end result of everything I teach you as about GOOD news.

So why does it often seem like just a bunch of rules, traditions, regulations, and fences?

A few years ago I was traveling for business, and was put up in a small, but nice, hotel for a few days, close to my work (I could walk everywhere I needed to get to).  The place was popular with families, and there were children all around.

The day I checked in I watched as a young father played with his two small girls, laughing, running, playing “tag”.  I could see them clearly. From the front door of the lobby I could see through and past the lobby into a small grassy, tree-shaded park, filled with sandboxes and swings.  I could see them through the floor to ceiling glass windows at the back of the lobby. I checked in at the Front Desk, and entered the elevator. I found my room, unlocked the door, and went in.  I was on the third floor (the TOP floor of this small hotel). 

I could hear the laughter of the father and daughters, and realized my room was on the same side as the little park outside the lobby. I walked to the window, parted the drapes and looked out where I could see them playing.

From my vantage point on the third floor, I could see something that they could not see. The small playground/park was surrounded by a tall, beautiful, eight-foot solid wooden fence, which (if you were in the small park) one couldn’t see beyond. What I could see, just beyond the high fence, was a construction site where jagged pieces of metal lay about, along with concrete forms, wooden planks, deep trenches, and electrical wires – a dangerous place for children, just a few feet away from where they were playing.

GOOD NEWS sometimes comes in the form of “fences”.  Jesus offers freedom to choose, even to play beyond the fence-line, but when and if we do play, and live, “outside some boundaries” there may be danger.

Some people see God and think of the fence, and not the park it surrounds.  The GOOD NEWS is declared when we realize that if we DO find ourselves outside the fence, God is there to rescue and restore us back to the healthy environment on the green grass where we are free to run, laugh, live, and love.

The Church, and Her Pastors (including this one) are sometimes more prone to speak of the fences and not of the parks they surround.

One day, we will be in a place without fences. In that place, there will be no danger.  There will be nothing to fear.  The new earth and heaven will be ours.

God’s entire “reason for being” is us.  He lives for our joy.

So, remember, it’s supposed to be…GOOD NEWS.

It was a tragic story, to begin with.  He was a young father, in construction.  He was a high school jock who hadn’t lost his physical peak with age.  His home was filled with his young wife and three small children: girls.  He loved his family and his life was full of simple pleasures.  I didn’t exactly know him, but his parents were members of my congregation.

He lived each day following a pattern that wasn’t a rut, but was predictable: he rose early, went to work and came home.  But there was one feature about him that seemed incongruous to the rest of him.  He loved Broadway musicals, especially FIDDLER ON THE ROOF.  And so, each day, he would return from a long day of hard labor, greet his kids, kiss his wife, put on an LP of some Broadway soundtrack, more often than not, “IF I WERE A RICH MAN” (his favorite of favorites) from “FIDDLER ON THE ROOF”. Then, he would lay down on the couch and fall asleep till dinner.

One day he did all that, laid down, and never got back up.

Like I said, it was tragic.  But even in this case…well.

The church organist and I were the same age, young.  We lacked the maturity of experience to let inappropriate moments of humor pass through our minds to be nibbled on later.  If the plate was put in front of us, we ate it…or worked hard to not let it tempt us (usually without success).  We were the musicians at the church and therefore were asked to be the musicians at the funeral.  The service was not at our church, but at a small, older, funeral home out-of-town.  This was the type of place where the organ and singer were behind a screen at the back of the platform.  We could see out, but no one could see in and see us.

Most of the service requested was standard fare.  However, the family insisted on my singing his favorite song.  You guessed it: “IF I WERE A RICH MAN”.

Picture the cast: a minister prone to appreciate the off-kilter humor of human nature, two twenty-somethings who had a difficult time taking anything seriously, a grieving family, an old funeral home…it’s a gold mine.

The actual performance was more difficult than I imagined when we simply practicing.  First off, the mood alone was wrong.  This was a funeral, not a cabaret.  We had to find that musical performance balance between appropriate while still being true to a song THAT WASN’T WRITTEN FOR A FUNERAL.  So, the organist and I KNEW we couldn’t perform it “full-boar”, as if at the Schubert Theatre.  The logistics alone were impossible.  We were tucked in a room large enough for a Hammond B3 and a singer.  There wasn’t enough room there (as my dear Aunt Eva would say) to “cuss a cat without getting fur in your mouth”.  So my friend, the organist, had to play the familiar, “boom-chuck-chuck, boom-chuck” accompaniment (on a Hammond B3, better known for blues, rock and gospel, than show tunes), and I had to read over her shoulder because there wasn’t room for a music stand.  The microphone was fixed to the wall, NOT the wall the organ was on.  The organ was to my left, the mic was to my right.  The melody I knew, the words…not so much.  So I had to look to my left, get as many words in my mind as possible while directing my voice to the mic on my right.  All the while, actually looking at (through the screen) the congregation.

The time came.  Just on the other side of the screen, a mere two feet in front of us, were the chairs for the minister and anyone else speaking at the service, backs to us.  Our Pastor had just finished his remarks, telling the story and meaning of this song to the departed.  He sat down.  She started playing.  I started singing.

It was all going well.  And then the surreal moment hit my friend playing the organ.  By the movement of her back, I could tell she was beginning to chuckle to herself.  Her past history indicated she wouldn’t be able to stop.  It got worse.  This may not be true for you, but for me (and obviously her) if you have to laugh silently, laugh-tears start up.  I was doing fine, but suddenly she was silently laughing and tearing up.  She couldn’t see the music, she turned a page too early, I lost the words.  Then I started.  I couldn’t control it.  This was perhaps the most ridiculous thing (at that point in my life) that had ever happened to me.  I started to sing and couldn’t.  I didn’t know what the words were so I just sang (when I could) “dai-dai-dai…”.  My inner Tevye had left the building.  In a frantic effort to stop the madness I reached over to point to the END OF THE SONG, and ended up 1) accidentally hitting her in the jaw, and 2) falling over a stack of music.

Our Pastor, true to his nature, had his head bowed the whole time.  When we finished in glorious fashion, he rose and gave the longed-for benediction.  It was over.

Well, not quite.

In an effort to sneak out as quickly as possible, we entered the side room where the family had gathered, before getting into the coach and ride to the cemetery.  In horror, I saw the departed’s mother and wife approach us.  They hugged me.  They said how moved they both were at my rendition of RICH MAN, and so touched that I “broke down during the last verse”…it meant so much to them that I was moved as well.

Well, of course.  They couldn’t SEE what was going on, they could only hear it.

I don’t know what you can get out of this story, but several lessons come to me:
FIRST: The young father was truly a “rich man”. The world may have considered him to be just another working man of the masses, but his life was full and rich

SECOND: The SPIRIT can work through absolutely even the most ridiculous of weaknesses to do THE SPIRIT’S work.

And so, once again we are assured:
“all things work together for those/with those, who love God and are called according to his purpose” (ROMANS 8:28)
and
“the Lord works in mysterious ways” (not Scripture, but appropriate)

…and finally, “in our weakness, He is our strength.” (II CORINTHIANS 12:9)

As I look forward to what will be the “closing chapter” of my life…and by “closing chapter” I mean the years during which most people, including me, would retire…I probably, inevitably will, but at the least I will be “slowing down”, “lessening”, and napping more. I am now a “mature adult” and the boys, MY boys, are now grown and in their thirties.  They live close by, but in separate homes, creating new lives.  What happened to the time?

As I look at my boys, at their maturity, and as I listen to them speak, I realize that they have become strong, able, somewhat wise, and grown quickly beyond anything I would be able to teach them or show them…how did that happen? 

How does ANYONE “grow”?  My boys grew, not because their mother and I stood over them every day and commanded them to grow.  They didn’t grow and mature because we focused on their growth. No, they grew because we focused on their nurture.  We fed them, we made sure that they got enough rest, we educated them and made sure that they were surrounded and protected by teachers who reflected and taught what we believed to be the truth.  We gave them extra protection and help when they were weak.  We gave them space to walk and run when they were strong. As a result, they grew.  Their growth was, and is, a result of nurture.

CHURCH GROWTH is a subject of thousands of books and even more theories.  In my congregation, we face the question that many other churches ask: how do we define “growth” and how do we survive without it?  Some believe that focusing ON growth itself is the answer, defining “growth” as “numbers” with an effort to push and pull numbers of people into the pews.  Unfortunately, some congregations focus so intently on “filling the pews” that they forget their true purpose: WORSHIP.  When so much energy is spent on advertising and gaining numbers, the core, and long-time, members of church sometimes (not always) feel neglected.  It’s true in commerce, and it’s true in church:  all of the best, cleverest and most expensive advertising available to a restaurant won’t do anything but get customers in the door…ONCE, but if the food is lousy, no advertising available will get them to return…ultimately advertising doesn’t work unless the “product” is good.  Good food is its best advertisement.

My philosophy, which is probably flawed and lacking because I am still simply learning, is that, in the Church “growth” should be defined as “depth & breadth” of faith and knowledge within the Kingdom of God…growth MAY include numbers (quantity) but NEEDS to include a deeper relationship with God (qualtity). And NURTURE causes growth, even in congregations.   

People will be naturally and supernaturally drawn to a place where there is love, where they are fed, where they in turn have an opportunity to feed, and where they are accepted and have a place.  When God’s presence is sincerely felt, no one can help but advertise.

“By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” JOHN 13:35

24601: That is the number the prison gives to identify the man known as Jean Valjean, the protagonist in the book and musical, LES MISERABLES. 24601.  The number is not only given for identification, but also is thrown in the face of a man who carries a name, a family, a history…so that the penal system can remind him that he is “less than a man”…he is only a number.

That is what is what “the world” does best…it reduces humanity.  The world takes the fullness of life and reminds all of us that we are only a statistic, just a number in a vast sea of like numbers.

Depending on which circle one walks in, they are either one voice-type in a choir, a checking account number, an address, a blonde, a catholic, a poor person, a wacko.  The world will constantly reduce us to the least common denominator.  The world will do what is easiest, most efficient…and most degrading.

I remember the day I flew to Washington State with a medium-sized wooden box containing the ashes of my father.  Those ashes were all that was left of his body, after the world had its way…that, and a series of forms, two bags of odds and ends, and a few clothes.  This is what the world thought of him.  That is what the world thinks of you and me.  We may bask in greatness and popularity, or sulk in our inability to gain what we think we are worth…but either way, the world doesn’t care.  Don’t kid yourself, the world, as God Himself has said, is a prostitute who may flatter and tempt…but in the end you’re nothing more to her than a loaf of bread…if even that.

That’s what the world, with its popularity contests, worship of youthful beauty, and elevation of wealth and power above all things does to us.  However, the world does not define what LIFE is.  God defines LIFE.  And HE does the opposite of what the world does; instead of reducing humanity, God elevates, enhances, and fills humanity.

The scripture reminds us that God has elevated us, crowned us, claims us as children, and pronounces us heirs to the universe.  “Life” is not defined by the things that are left when our breath takes flight.  “Life” IS that breath, the very breath that was given us the day we first cried.  “Life” as God sees it, is something that not only lives forever, but is MORE real after we rid ourselves of these bodies and this world.  God does not see my father or mother as “ashes in a box”, but as individual, golden, perennial diamonds.  He knows them as Marge & Tom, the children for whom He would do anything, reach any depth, and fly across the universe to rescue.

We who Believe & Follow The Way are the bearers of THIS torch: that the world will flatter us, tempt us, beat us and try to kill us…but God is “not of this world” and this Age will be cleaned to make way for the next; an Age with homes for each of His children.  An Age ruled by the King who put on our skin so that we might trust Him, believe Him and follow Him…from the manger to the cross and through the tomb back to the Garden.

The only things from this Age that we will see in the next are each other.  Don’t let the world reduce you and define you…and more importantly, don’t be a part of the world’s conspiracy by reducing another person to something less than they are – our relationship to one another is the only true currency we take with us to The-Age-To-Come.  How we love them here and now, in this age, defines our love for God. So, let’s do for each other what God does for us: ELEVATE each other with words of praise, ENHANCE each other by sharing their gifts and giving them of ours, and FILL each other with acts of love that are unconditional.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”
VICTOR HUGO, author of LES MISERABLES

“Dear friends, let us love one another, because love is from God,
and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.”
I JOHN 4:7

I was in my car, on my way to Indianapolis.  I was in the right-hand lane (going the speed limit…really!) and a car drove past me, pulled in front of me and slowed down.  It was obvious, from my vantage point, that the driver of the car ahead of me was busy on his smartphone, texting.  I wasn’t really in a hurry, but did at least want to go the speed limit, so eventually I signaled and moved to the left lane.  This action apparently jarred the driver from his text conversation and made him upset as, to my amusement, he sped up the minute I was beside him so that I could not get around him.  I didn’t care, as I didn’t need to be in the right lane for a while.  After a few minutes he slowed down, abruptly passed behind me to the turn lane coming up on my left, honked and gave me a “sign” (and it wasn’t the sign of the cross).  I was a bit confused as to his anger with ME, but not enough to care.  I was more humored than anything else.

Oh, did I mention that he had a Greek “ichtus” (sign of the fish, the “secret” symbol Christians used to identify each other in the First Century) on his bumper?

I assumed the car was purchased by the current driver at a used car lot.

And once again the words of a friend came to me, “If your car has a bumper sticker about heaven, you probably shouldn’t drive like hell.”

 That quote is far-reaching implications for any of us who identify as Believers & Followers of Jesus.  If we are going to put our identity out there, we should probably BE what we advertise.  After all, I don’t expect to find SKITTLES in an M&M bag.  If M&Ms are advertised on the packaging, they had better be M&Ms inside.

Now we all do some things, as Believers & Followers, that some other Believers & Followers would call “unchristian.”  Example: as an actor I have been called upon to play characters that are NOT Believers & Followers.  One of those times, I had to carry (not smoke) a fake cigarette through most of the production.  A dear saint wrote a kind note to me, making her case that she thought it was inappropriate for a minister to carry a cigarette.  I, of course, disagreed…on several levels (1. a minister WASN’T carrying the cigarette, the character was, 2. I know several spirit-filled ministers who smoke, and 3. if you’re offended by THAT, then I could tell you a few other things about me that might make your hair curl…etc.) but what I actually said was that I was sorry she was offended and hoped that my carrying a fake cigarette around, as an actor, didn’t shatter her faith.  And I realized that in this large community we call the Kingdom of God, social norms, geographic boundaries, and tradition often define what some might think is “Christians behaving badly” while another group doesn’t see an issue.

At the core of the community should be the unity of the FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT, no matter what we wear, how we cut (or don’t cut) our hair, how we worship, when we worship…etc.  A person identifying as a Believer & Follower, either by carrying around a Bible, wearing a big cross, or even putting a bumper fish on their car need to at least PRACTICE (if not perFECT) love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control (GALATIANS 5:22-23).  These things, and not anything else, are the mark of those who believe Jesus is the Son of God and follow Him as sheep follow a shepherd.  If one is not willing to at least attempt, and practice these things, then they shouldn’t advertise they are something they are not.

I say “attempt, and practice” because many of us are not there yet.  However, the practice and attempt are obvious in people who DO practice and attempt to be who they claim.

Those who are obviously (by their lack of “fruit”) not who they profess to be give a bad name to those who ARE, because the world tends to paint all Believers & Followers with the same broad brush, and God gets a bad reputation.  The FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT; the evidence of a Believer & Follower’s roots, plays out in large and small ways, sometimes those ways are how we DRIVE, how we treat people we don’t HAVE to be nice to, how we tip, how we serve.

Jesus called this sort of false advertising “whitewashed tombs” (MATTHEW 23:27), a far more colorful description even than “If your car has a bumper sticker about heaven, you probably shouldn’t drive like hell.”

Even better is to make sure that one’s fruit of the Spirit is so self-evident that a bumper fish isn’t necessary.

Drive safely.  Advertise accurately.  Produce fruit.

It was a good time for me. I was in college, almost graduating, singing and performing, and enjoying life. I was also the “single male” among a few young couples, friends with little kids. For some reason, little kids loved me. The times I would go over to a friend’s house or apartment, and their kids were there, they would run to me like puppies. We would, inevitably, spend some time building a fort or I would sit as they showed me various things I needed to see: toys, projects, art, rocks they had found…etc. 

A memory of that golden time was triggered by something I saw on the street last week – the plastic arm of a baby doll, lying on the sidewalk.

One evening, as I sat in the apartment of some friends before we went out to dinner, their girl toddler (the youngest of two, the other being one year older and a boy) wheeled in her pink plastic stroller with what I assumed was her “baby”. She came over to me and I looked inside the stroller.

“Is that your baby?” I asked

“Ummhmm. Her name is Neenee.”

I looked in and was a little surprised to see a dismembered doll. Every bit of her in pieces; torso, arms, legs, and head…as if little Neenee was the victim of some plastic shark. Each of her delicate parts were carefully placed in the stroller, right where it they would, by nature, be. They just weren’t connected to each other. I wasn’t quite sure how to word my question.

“Umm…what…uh…why are her arms and legs (and smiling head!) not on her body?”

“Because Nathan (her brother, currently hitting something with a plastic hammer at this point) keeps hurting her. He breaks her when I’m not looking.”

“Oh,” I said. Then I whispered to her, hoping to once again prove myself to be their favorite non-related uncle, “Would you like me to put her back together?”

She whispered back to me conspiratorially, “No. I broke her all up myself this time.”

Confused, I said, “YOU did?”

“Uh-huh. That way he can’t hurt her any more…he can’t break her, she’s already broken.” 

The Philosophy minor in my head let her words settle in. The young theologian still forming in me said to catalogue this moment. Then I simply said, “She’s already broken.”

“Uh-huh. And also, I keep her in here now, with me…and he knows he can’t get past me…and I can beat him up, and I bite.” 

Violence aside, this moment, long forgotten, came back to me in a complete picture when I saw the baby doll arm on the sidewalk last week. I applied the moment, and the lesson, to a few people I know…and to me.

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…” 

…reminds me that I am weakest when I hold on to anything that people or circumstance can break. Any time I try to hold myself together, or worse, create false armor, I have only created something else for circumstance and people to break. Better I should let go of the rope before I get to the end of it. 

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…” 

…carries strength in the statement, resting in the knowledge that being broken isn’t always a weakness, and Jesus’ healing is almost never about putting things back the way they were. Restoration is always about placing someone in a better place than even before the “hurt”.

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…”

…isn’t the entire phrase, nor is it the entire truth. I can only speak for myself but knowing that no one can “break” me is only a piece of the armor. Being broken already might be a “so there!” moment to enemies. But the “mic drop” is that Jesus hasn’t left me there, He stays with me, knowing from the moment I was broken, that He would pick up the pieces and hold on to me. 

 He will stay with me. If any circumstance, any moment, or any person, plans to break me again…they will have to go through Him.

 PHILIPPIANS 1:21• COLOSSIANS 3:3 • ROMANS 8:35-39

As a child, I was first fascinated by theatrical productions not because of the performances, but because of the sets.  Now, more than ever, and after several years in professional and community theatre, I am fascinated by the craft of theatrical scenic design and execution.

To sit in an audience and KNOW, in your mind, that the space you are looking at is simply a box open to the audience, but what you see is a lavish, marble-paneled palace interior, or a forest, or a village green…that kind of “suspension of belief” is a skill and somewhat mysterious gift given to designers who often need to be engineers of sorts as well.

The process of making one thing look like another and putting the audience in a frame of mind, sucking them into the story, is still a wonderful experience for me.

When one takes a trip backstage to see the “magic” revealed, the experience can be, as it is for me and some others, an even more fascinating time.  However, for others, the magic is gone once they realize that what they see is not the truth: that brick wall is a façade of a quarter-inch plastic…that tree is made of papier-mâché, as are the solid-looking-weather-worn stones.  The sky?  Material with blue light on it…and the stars, merely electronics.

The  papier-mâché tree wouldn’t stand a light rain, much less a storm.  The house has only 3 sides and is made of cardboard, some would, some paint…no one in their right mind would actually want to LIVE there.  The stones wouldn’t support a small animal, much less be shelter or foundation for more building.  The set is only a reproduction and real only to the audience…and much of that is in their own minds.

INTEGRITY.  The word describes what is incorruptible, sound and complete.  Integrity is something that truly is, on the inside, what it appears to be on the outside.  If it looks like a tree or a stone, or a brick wall, on the outside…INTEGRITY demands that it BE a tree, or stone, or brick wall on the inside.

A related word, “sincere”, suggests completeness, wholeness…trueness.  It’s root from a practice, in Roman days, of filling in the cracks of poorly-made, or not so fine, marble columns with wax so that they would appear more perfect (more “integral”).  Of course, later on the hot sun would melt the wax and the buyer would realize that the “good deal on columns” was a bad deal for his house. So sellers began to advertise that their marble was “sine cera” (without wax)…where we get our English word, “sincere”.

Are you what you appear to be?  Do all of us present an “audience side” to those we want to please or “perform for”?  Sometimes we do.  Being “nice” is not what being a Believer & Follower is all about…being “good” is.  Nice is “façade”, put on for some, but not for others. “Good” implies that at our core we have the Spirit of God burning as a furnace and warming from the inside out.  The scripture warns us that a façade will not stand the test of life…eventually what is TRULY in our hearts will come through.  The papier-mâché of our own stage set will wear quickly away…and if there is nothing but chicken wire and cardboard behind it, our friends will know…worse, we will not have the strength to merely walk through life.

Let’s build from the inside out…start with a good designer, our Heavenly Father.

I am remembering a moment, a Christmas Eve in the living room, putting a massive toy of some sort together, as quietly as possible.  It’s something I wanted to get done quickly, it was late and I knew the boys would be up before dawn, wanting to get into the presents.  I was tempted to simply look at the picture on the package and build from that, except that this clever manufacturer had printed instructions that began with: “Please follow the instructions carefully, the designers and manufacturers of this product wish to do everything in their power to ensure your enjoyment and safety.” 

“…to ensure your enjoyment and safety.”

And I had another epiphany.  It was about something that had been in the news during that Christmas Season: The Ten Commandments.  Some city somewhere what’s going through some sort of thing about a stone in front of the courthouse and a manger scene and a menorah, or something.  Anyway I had either forgotten or suddenly realized the Ten Commandments (the Decalogue) are a prime example of “the Designer/Manufacturer’s…wish to do everything in His power to ensure our enjoyment and safety.”

The “Big Ten”, and even more so, “The Sermon on the Mount” are patterns for life in this time & place, written and “illustrated/acted out” by the One who created this time and place…and holds it together, with our help.  Said another way, “If you want enjoyment and safety here on earth…do this”.

Following rules and guidelines set by God aren’t exactly how we transition into the age-to-come. Jesus makes that clear.  Jesus says it is by our faith that we are restored by the grace of His Father.  It is a gift from His Father and our Father that we can be restored to the ideal created in Eden, and remain close to God, in THIS age and into the age-to-come.

We don’t stand next to the Father and walk with Him through eternity because of who WE are, but because of who HE is.

Jesus spent His time as a Teacher on earth trying to re-explain, clear up misconceptions and help us see His Father in a new light.  He was clear in what was, and is, expected of those who BELIEVE & FOLLOW, but His emphasis was on active love between each other…in response to the great gift given to us by His Father, NOT as some sort of test to see if we should “get into heaven.”

The TEN COMMANDMENTS and THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT make practical sense in this created world.  These are the “directions” for living well, with our Creator and with each other.  I’d go so far as to say, even the most spiritually-insensitive could benefit from living in this world according to these words and guidelines.

But again, these words are about LIFE, in the here-and-now. These words aren’t the “magic potion” that “gets us to the age-to-come. The Apostle Paul was also clear that we all fail.  We fail on purpose and innocently.  And when we do, Jesus stands to defend us as someone who has worn our skin, seen with our eyes, and walked our path.  The fear of disappointing and offending God, which many of us grew up with, is something that doesn’t necessarily (or always) come from God. However, we should appropriately fear and respect a Being with the power to obliterate even our very souls with a blink of His eye…and yet chooses not to.

Does God sit in heaven, yearly “going over the books” and writing or erasing each of our names according to our deeds, good and bad?  I honestly am not there to witness that or see it.  I can only tell you what the scripture, the Spirit, and my own experience with God tells me: He would race across the universe to merely give us a hug.  He is completely and totally wrapped up in us…for us, it’s all about God, and for God life is completely about us.

His concern is not only that we are with Him and He is with us, forever…but also that we LIVE that “full life” starting now, in the HERE-and-now…so that we can continue to enjoy that life in the age-to-come.

Our Father, the Creator (Manufacturer), has designed the world we live in. He has given us instructions in both the Old and New Testaments…and has given us the Spirit to continually teach, guide, and empower us to live, to really LIVE, now…and “across the Jordan”. 

And we can LIVE, a embarrassingly extravagant life…by following the Designer & Manufacturer’s instructions to ensure our enjoyment and safety…in a better world.

Warner Elias Sallman, a first-generation American (his parents were immigrants from Finland and Sweden), sang in his local church choir in Chicago.  It was there he met his wife, Ruth in 1916.  He was an artist who apprenticed with some of the best local illustrators and painters during the day, while attending the Chicago Art Institute at night.  In 1924 he was commissioned by a denominational magazine for a charcoal sketch of the head of Jesus.

Using a physical description of Jesus, supposedly written by a Publius Lentulus (Roman Consul during the reign of Augustus, and Governor of Judea prior to Pontius Pilate), Warner followed the description set out by the letter and sketched a head.  Here is an excerpt from the letter (there are several questions about its authenticity, however, it is the only physical description available):

“…He is a man of medium size, he has a venerable aspect, and his beholders can both fear and love him. His hair is of the color of the ripe hazel-nut, straight down to the ears, but below the ears wavy and curled, with a bluish and bright reflection, flowing over his shoulders. It is parted in two on the top of the head, after the pattern of the Nazarenes. His brow is smooth and very cheerful with a face without wrinkle or spot, embellished by a slightly reddish complexion. His nose and mouth are faultless. His beard is abundant, of the color of his hair, not long, but divided at the chin…”

A few years later he turned his several sketches into an oil painting, he was asked to replicate that painting for another group, and executives from The Warner Press Company (publishing arm of The Church of God) first saw it then.  Warner Press created an arm of their company, which would own the copyrights and distribute copies of the painting.  For the next 30 years Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST was distributed throughout the world.  Churches, clubs, service organizations all used this remarkable portrait.  The USO printed small copies to be given to every soldier, sailor and airman who enlisted.  Eventually it become the most recognized and popular picture of Jesus known.  Warner Press eventually acquired total rights to this and some 100 other well-known, and not-so-well-known paintings, sketches and illustrations by Warner Sallman…and all of them, including the HEAD OF CHRIST, are right her in Anderson, Indiana where Anderson University regularly displays them in their galleries.

For many, this is the picture that comes to mind when someone says the name, “Jesus”.  It is the product of a questionable description and a gifted Christian artist…but it is not Jesus.

This beautiful painting should serve as a reminder, to all who believe and follow, that God is not to be so narrowly defined that we would refuse to get to know Him.  The scripture, specifically the Gospels in the books of the New Covenant, remind us that Jesus-in-the-flesh stepped into a church that had SO NARROWLY defined God that they not only didn’t recognize Him when He stepped into their church, THEY CONSIDERED HIM THEIR ENEMY.  The church spends a lot of time defining God, refining His mind, His preferences, His “rules”…so much so, that any time God does something out-of-the-ordinary (“para physin”, as Paul would say) or blesses/calls/sends/anoints someone whom other “Christians” would consider inappropriate…then they/the church once again has created God in ITS image, and not visa versa.

The vastness of greatness and personality, the unfathomable mercy, love and grace that comes from our Heavenly Father is, to our minds, limitless…surprising…uncomfortable.  And that is as it should be.  We who “Believe & Follow: need to be reminded that is our calling: to BELIEVE and FOLLOW, but not to define and lead-by-proxy.  God will love and bless whom He loves and blesses.  He will call into His Kingdom anyone of His choosing.  He is not defined by our limited understanding of love, mercy or justice.  He is not to be framed into the narrowness of an “image” or painting, but He IS to be sought after as a friend who surprises us daily with new facets of His personality.

Creative and visual learners will continually look to define, visually,  concepts and people, to define our thought and philosophy.  But when it comes to assuming what God does and does not think, we should tread very, very carefully, trust the Spirit, and measure against the Scripture… 

…because we don’t want to be a congregation that has Warner Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST hanging in the narthex but wouldn’t recognize Jesus if he stood among us during our post-worship Coffee Hour.

Our calling is to BELIEVE Jesus is who He says He is,
and to FOLLOW Him, wherever He chooses to lead us.
Let JESUS be JESUS and trust Him to define Himself.

…that is how we become & identify as BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS.