Its time to sharpen that pencil, pull out that pad of paper, and write down the things you hope to accomplish this next year.  But before you do, take a minute and consider a few things.

I’ve made my share of lists.  I’ve won some, I’ve lost some.  Let’s be clear: I’m not a list hater, I’m not a resolution hater, and I’m not a goal hater.  Just hear me out.

I’ve noticed something that happens around this time of year as people are making their lists.  And it happens quietly.

We think that the ultimate goal is a “better you”.

We think that the natural result of completing a good list is a better life.

We make the center of the list “me”.  A “successful” me.  A “thinner” me.  A “less-stressed” me.  A “happier” me.  A “creative” me.  A “financially secure” me.  A “peaceful” me.  A “friendlier” me.  A “more charitable” me.

Meanwhile, that irritating guy named John said in John 3:30: “…less me.”

I submit to you that you can make a fantastic list of wonderful, worthy things to accomplish this coming year and you very well may achieve them all.  But if “me” is at the center and “me” is the highest goal, you’re going to find that the goal of a “better me” isn’t enough.

So as I make my list I’m definitely wanting to be healthier. I’m definitely wanting to be more successful.  I absolutely have goals that I’d love to see accomplished this coming year.  But not with me and my ego at the center; with Jesus and His glory there.  And this is both a personal decision and an ongoing, daily battle.  It is in the minutia of each hour that I tend to seek more me, and that automatically equals less Him.  So don’t think I’m pounding out a quick blog and thinking I’ve done anything.  I’ll click the “Publish” button, stand up, and get to doing what I’ve briefly expressed here.  Some of you will see me living.  At moments I’ll be less and at other moments I’ll be more.  But underneath it all I want less “me”.

Go ahead and make your list.  Write it down, pin it up, and live it out.  But do it for something–Someone–greater than “me”.

For weeks now we’ve been swimming in a sea of Christmas music, both spiritual and downright not spiritual.  And while I do my best “O Holy Night” duets with Josh Groban while riding in my car alone, I’ve got to say that I’ve been brought by it all to a stark reminder of what this is all about.

With a chill in the night air and an out-of-options housing situation a young woman and her new husband welcomed into the world the Son of God, sent directly from His throne in the heavenly realm–a throne He had some 9 months previously forfeited for a time in order to fulfill the greatest rescue mission of all eternity.  This mission would rescue, ransom, and redeem the very human race that had repeatedly turned its back on Him time and time again.

What astounds me about the birth story of Jesus is the humanness of it all wrapped in the unmistakable deity of Who He was.  Not long after His birth, kings bowed before Him offering Him gifts of adoration, kingship, and confession of His identity.  A maniacal earthly king who had himself been called “the king of the Jews” found this little child such a threat to his throne that he had an entire population of young boys exterminated in hopes of wiping the boy Jesus from the earth, from history, and from any plans of an overthrow of Herod’s throne.  Little did Herod know that Jesus never came to establish a throne on earth, but came to reveal His already established throne in heaven.  

Mary was pure, Joseph was honest, shepherds were willing, and kings were bowing.  All in recognition of Jesus the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior, the One who has come to redeem me from myself and from an eternity apart from Him.  Not because of my own worth or merit, but because of His great love.  This is the greatest mystery, the greatest conspiracy, the greatest rescue mission the world will ever know.

We’re just days–nearly hours away from Thanksgiving 2013.  And by now you’ve certainly heard the call to “Be Thankful”, “Give Thanks”, “Count your blessings”, and/or “Pause and reflect”.  We get it, right?  Thanksgiving time is time to be thankful.

But where does thankfulness come from?  How do we muster a thankful mind and heart when we’re surrounded by trouble, heartache, loss, stress, and the details of life that leave us reeling?  What is the source of gratitude and how can we access it so that Thanksgiving isn’t merely a day (or even a half hour time span where we eat that bird), but rather a mindset or even a lifestyle?  (Or you may have skipped that part and gone right to mapping out your Thanksgiving-Thursday-evening-Pre-Black-Friday-sale-shopping attack route.)

First, we need to understand that thankfulness doesn’t come naturally.  Most of us are prone to complain.  Ironically, its those who enjoy the most that are most likely to complain when things don’t go their way.  Don’t think I’m right? Visit an undeveloped country sometime.  Visit a family with what you’d consider next to nothing that compare their level of griping to the average American.  You see, the more we have, the more we think we deserve, the more out of sorts we get when we don’t get what we think we should have.

So, if thankfulness isn’t our native language, how does it come about? Where do we find it? How does it grow?

Thankfulness begins with contentment.  It starts when striving stops.  It happens when I stop reaching.  I remember a time we were at a restaurant when my oldest daughter (now 16) was in her highchair days.  She had a bowl of mac ‘n cheese in front of her but when she scooped some with her spoon, one or two noodles would slip off and fall to the floor.  She’d get so distressed and distracted over the 2 noodles on the floor that she’d seem to completely forget about the spoonful in her hand.  We tend to do that, don’t we?  We’ve each got a couple “noodles” on the floor that we’re obsessed with simply because we don’t have them.  But take a look at what you DO have!  Take a look at the goodness of God and begin to thank Him for the spoonful.

Thankfulness continues when we give.  Nope, I’m not talking about money.  I’m talking about giving attention, giving an ear, giving a hand, giving a shoulder, giving love to those around you.  Start with those closest to you and work your way out from there.  Hug your spouse, your kids, your in-laws and tell them you love them. Bake a loaf of pumpkin bread and walk it over to your next door neighbor.  Strike up a conversation with a stranger with no other objective than to brighten their day.

Thankfulness finds its beginning and end in faith.  For me, I can be thankful no matter what the circumstance because of Jesus.  No matter how things fall apart, no matter what bills are rolling in, no matter what stresses my family faces, no matter what our nation slips into, no matter what losses we face, no matter what hills we climb, no matter what…I know that I know that Jesus is Lord and that I am completely free to trust Him with every detail.  I’m not naive. I’m not sheltered. I’m not ignorant and I’m not blind to reality.  I’m thankful.  Thankful to be given the capacity to re-calibrate my heart on the goodness I find in my life, the incredible people I get to share my life with, and the fact that when all the dust settles, I’m completely surrounded by the grace of God.

Here’s hoping that as we enter this holiday season, my life and yours would be marked with hearts that are thankful more than anything else as we allow that thankfulness to heal our wounds, set our path, and replenish our spirits.

“What can I offer the Lord for all He has done for me?”  -Psalm 116:12

The older I get the more I learn I have way more to learn.

In fact, I’d define immaturity as indelibly including unteachability.  Stubbornness short-circuits growth; growth that comes through identifying where we lack sense, information, insight, or wisdom.

And boy, do I lack.

The older I get the more thankful I am that God is absolutely as willing as He’s ever been to lead me into a deeper understanding of who He is and what He’s about.  Because believe it or not, being a pastor doesn’t come with some implanted microchip that automatically gives me anything. I grow, I hurt, I revel, I seek, I wonder, I sin, I confess, I stumble, I worship, I recommit; I walk much like you do.  Almost exactly like you do, perhaps.

So I am keenly aware of my humanness.  My shortcomings.  My ability to maybe look like I’ve got it all (or some of it) together and yet have next to nothing “together”.  In fact, whatever in my life is strong and healthy is simply because of God’s goodness.  Whatever is weak, fractured, or downright broken is because of my flawed state of being.

Now–I have 2 options.  I can wallow in my failures or I can worship in His faithfulness.  

The wallow route will get me not just nowhere good, but everywhere that perpetually keeps me down, stuck, defeated, and discouraged.

The worship route will take me not just forward, but everywhere God has in store; places of peace, joy, & hope to name a few.

People are funny.  In fact, I’ve heard it say that “No one is funnier than people.”  I believe it.  The way people respond to situations that make them uncomfortable is what makes sociology so interesting.  We’re a weird mixture of ego, emotion, ambition, and ambivalence to name a few of our dominant ingredients.

Its been a long time coming, but I want to take a crack at wrapping up this situation found in John 9.  Here are some of the highlights leading up to what eventually leaves me shaking my head.  Maybe it’ll do the same to you:

v. 1-2: Disciples see a blind man and question Jesus why he’s blind.

v. 3-5: Jesus schools the disciples.

v. 6-7: Jesus heals the blind man.

v. 8-9: The neighborhood marvels and wonders if the now ex-blind man is even the blind man.

v. 10-12: The ex-blind man tells his neighbors that “The man they call Jesus” healed him.

v. 13-15: The Pharisees are ticked off because Jesus healed on the Sabbath. How dare he.

v. 16-17: The Pharisees decide that Jesus isn’t from God, but ask the blind man his opinion.

v.  18-23: The Pharisees don’t like the ex-blind man’s opinion, so they ask his parents for more information.

v. 24-26: The Pharisees don’t like the parents’ input either and go back to the ex-blind man for more information.

v. 27-33: The ex-blind man schools the Pharisees and sarcastically invites them to become Jesus’ disciples.

v. 34: The Pharisees are utterly insulted by this and throw the ex-blind man out.

So, to put it succinctly: Jesus heals a blind man and the Pharisees throw him out.   Wow.

Those who accept grace from God cheer on others to receive and revel in the same grace.  Those who don’t…well….don’t.

I just want to be one who is found nudging others toward “The man they call Jesus”, not being so into myself or the way I think things should be that I miss opportunities to celebrate the goodness of God’s grace in ANYONE’S life, no matter who they are, where they’ve been, how they feel, or what they’ve done.  The Pharisees couldn’t stand the fact that grace had come to a blind man who they probably thought was getting what he deserved.  I mean, how dare Jesus interrupt the cycle of cosmic justice that they thought caused his blindness in the first place?

What is about the threat of equal opportunity forgiveness and grace that rattles some people?  What is it that would cause someone to, like a child on Christmas morning, receive an extravagant gift and then do their dead-level best to keep it to themselves?

First, we like control.  Jesus’ miracle in that blind man’s life shook the Pharisees’ sense of control and lordship over the sabbath rules and over people in general.  We as humans like control and few things get us on edge quicker than when things feel out of our control.

Next, we like to decide who gets grace.  We take a look at someone and often in a matter of milliseconds make a decision on if they’re going to get any grace from us; usually based on what we know of them and the decisions we think they’ve made that we don’t approve of.

Discomfort is–I’ve found–often God’s favorite teaching environment.  Its when things are uncomfortable that we’re most likely to learn what God is teaching….if we’re willing.  Otherwise, when faced with the opportunity to see God at work, we’ll stick to our pride and throw the blind bum out.  Whenever you find yourself being stretched, think about the eventual result of that stretching.  Though painful in this moment, you’ll be stronger in the next.

I’m one of those weirdos that believe God created the universe.  If you want to know more about some of my crazy beliefs, check them out here.  The fact that I believe that is directly connected with the segment of John 9 that will make up what I’d like to kick around today.  The God of the universe is a hands-on God, but only when it comes to humans.  God has always been and is still today desirous of that kind of intimate connection with the humans He created and loves.  Look in Genesis 1 and 2; for all of creation except humans, God said, “Let there be ______….and there was               .”  But when He made humans: “And God formed man out of the dust of the ground…” (Gen. 2:7)   The implication here is that of a sculptor or a potter, shaping a masterpiece with his own two hands.  In fact, not only did God sculpt man with his hands, but He breathed His own breath of life into man.  Can you believe that the breath you’re breathing right now is the breath of God?  I’ll say it again: this is crazy stuff.

Take a look at John 9:6-7.  Something weird happens.

“After saying this, he [Jesus] spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes.  “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.”

Why in the world did Jesus use the method of making mud with his own saliva and with his hands smearing it in the blind man’s eyes?   Isn’t that peculiar (and kind of gross)?  Why not do as He had done in other instances and just “say the word” and the healing happens?  And why did He instruct the blind man to go wash the mud out in a nearby pool?  Even for Jesus, this seems an odd approach to a miracle that just as easily could have been a “hands-free” situation.

Follow this quick progression: God created Adam and Eve and we walked and talked with them in the garden. (Gen. 3:8) After sin entered through their disobedience, that close fellowship was broken.  Because of sin, God could no longer have intimate fellowship with humans.  Our sin caused the divide.  But God wasn’t willing to let things stay that way.  We see in the first five books of the Bible a God who is desperately trying to get close to His people.  He goes so far as to instruct them (Exodus 25) to make an ornate box called “The Ark of the Covenant” in which He would dwell.  Is it just me, or does it seem astounding to anyone else that the God of the universe would essentially allow Himself to be “boxed in” just so that He can be close to His people?  We also know that God had a strong desire to come close to Moses, but knew that Moses couldn’t ever survive looking on the glory of God.  So God did something else equally peculiar.  He placed Moses in the crevice of a mountain where he would be shielded and then passed by Moses, covering Moses with His hand.  Once God has gone passed, He allowed Moses to see Him as he moved away from him. (Exodus 33:17-23)  Again, all because God has always desired closeness with His beloved creation, specifically humans.

Its no wonder then that at the moment of Jesus death, the veil separating the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies in the temple was torn in two (Mark 15:38).  No longer would God be separated from His creation as He has been for thousands of years.  The torn veil was the message that whoever would draw close to Me, I will welcome Him with grace and forgiveness.

So it’s actually fitting that Jesus healed the blind man with his own saliva and his own hands.  This Jesus, the only Son of God–God incarnate–is desperate to be in contact and in fellowship with you and I.  How close are you letting Jesus get to you today?

And don’t forget that Jesus involved the blind man in his own healing by giving him the instruction to wash in the pool of Siloam.  Not only has God always wanted closeness with us, but He also wants involvement with us.  He not only wants connection, but He wants communion.  How has God been drawing you close lately?  How are you responding to His invitation/instruction to be involved with Him?

Feel free to share your thoughts, and check back soon for Part 3.

 

What is it about grace that ticks some people off?  Take a look at John 9 for a great example of the devastating effects of grace on a variety of people.  Here’s the situation:

There’s a blind guy that Jesus’ disciples ask about.  They want to know why he’s blind; was it because of his own sin or the sin of his parents? Fair question I guess.  Or not.  Whatever.  Either way, Jesus answers them: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned…” (v. 3)

From the disciples point of view, the blindness was a result of sin.  From a broader perspective though, they were looking through the lens of justice (he’s getting what he deserves), but Jesus was–and is–looking through the lens of grace (people getting what they don’t deserve).  And that’s shown in what Jesus says next: “…but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (v. 3)

There’s a bunch more to say (note the “Part 1” in the title), so come back for the continuation.

For today, chat with God about which set of lenses you’re looking through as you interact with people today.  Are your responses and interactions based on grace or on justice?  Do you treat people based on how they treat you, or are you willing to go beyond the boundaries of someone else’s limits and live a grace that blesses others so that the works of God might be displayed?