Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click….
That’s the sound of the last 11 years as we’ve ridden the roller coaster up the first hill of the ride called “Parenting A Teen”. At this moment, we’re at the top, tipping over the first drop and holding on to the lap bar with white knuckles and smiles mixed with trepidation, exhilaration, and a touch of nausea.
Well, we’re the parents of an 11 year old girl. And as a youth pastor for lo these many years, I’ve watching thousands of teens step through the door of pre-adolescence. But few people understand that that first step usually means that they turn in most of their brain function and trade it for strides toward self-identification, social acceptance, and overall funky malaise.
Today is class picture day at our (pre-teen) daughter’s school. Remember those days? And today’s drama was focused on white pants that her Mom wanted her to wear vs. the green pants SHE wanted to wear. She wore the white pants with a scowl. Should make for a lovely class picture!
An no amount of rational thought coming from us could penetrate the steel fortress of a pre-teen brain. It’s just too unplugged.
Just a couple of days ago, Merritt (my wife) called from the other room after observing Madison’s suddenly erratic behavior–and said, “Our daughter just turned into a teenager!” No joke, I’ve seen things happen in the pre-teen years, where it’s as if somebody literally reached in and flipped a switch on the inside wall of their skull; the switch that reads “polite” on one side and “psychopath” on the other.
Ah, the joys of parenting.

I got an email recently that was lengthy, kind of preachy, and quite predictable in its ending.

Apparently, the amount of love I have for God is linked directly to how many people I forward that email to. The email was also broadly accusational toward anyone who would not forward the email to their entire email address book, because not doing so meant I was ashamed of being a follower of God. The author of said email pulled out the tried and true Bible verse I like to call the “uzi of guilt”… “But if anyone denies me before men, I will also deny him before my Father in heaven.” (Matt. 10:33) Really? Are we going to stretch out the definition of fervency for God to include how many people I forward an email to? Really? I can see myself standing before the God of the Universe as He says, “Yes, Jerry, I know you believe that I sent my Son to pay the price for your sin. I know I said I forgive you. I know that you spent your life loving people and serving Me…but it comes down to this: Remember that email you got in April of 2008? How many people did you forward that email to? Was it your whole address book? No? Well, I’m afraid that you’ve damned yourself to eternal hell. Next time you’d better think before deleting.”

I’d be more offended if I wasn’t so busy laughing. But it got me thinking. And its about time, too. If you only gauged that by my blog entries, you’d think I haven’t done that in over a month.

Last night, I sat in a Taco Bell with 8 high school students around a couple of tables and talked. At first, it was just catching up with each other and talking about life. But then we turned our attention to John 2:1-11. Look it up and read it if you want to. It’s here.

It was a wedding at Cana. And Jesus was just Jesus as far as anybody really knew. He was Jesus like Bob was Bob, and Stephanie was Stephanie; nothing really setting him apart was special. Sure, he had called disciples; but that’s what Rabbis did. The weirdest thing that had happened up to that point in Jesus’ life was that a voice was heard from heaven at his baptism; the voice of God saying that He was (and is) pleased with Jesus. Other than that (if you can overlook it), nothing peculiar. No walking on water. No waking up dead people. No 5 loaves, 2 fish, and 5,000 men to feed. Just Jesus.

So, it’s no wonder that Jesus for the first time recorded in Scripture says “No” to His mom. Jesus was at this wedding party (and parties then are not like parties today. They pale in comparison). And as often happened…the wine ran out.

Now, I’m not too shy to stop right here and point out something that probably most followers of Christ and even “church-goers” have long wrestled with…what’s Jesus doing with a glass of wine in his hand?!? I mean, c’mon Jesus…you’re making us churchy people uncomfortable! Put that wine down! Did Jesus really drink wine? I mean WINE?!? You know…WINE!?!

I don’t want to take the time to get into the argument of “was it wine or grape juice?” I’ll just leave it at the fact that my understanding of the Bible, Jewish culture, and exposition leaves me with no other choice than to accept that this drink was in fact wine, which is the fermented grape juice, and therefore containing alcohol, and so consequently having the power to allow people to be drunk. Yep, that kind of wine. (After all, if John had meant grape juice, wouldn’t he have described it as “grape juice”?)

So, the wine runs out early–too early. The party’s wasn’t over (is it ever?) and the wine was gone. So Jesus’ mom comes to Him since she knows who He is and the power He has. I love the fact that Mary calls on Jesus’ power not for the purpose of healing a sick person or casting out a demon, but because the booze was gone. To me, that’s just hilarious.

But Jesus initially says “No” to His mom’s request. Actually, it was worded, “Dear woman, why do you involve me?” He probably used that line when she complained about a mess in his bedroom at home.

Mary: “Jesus, you need to pick up that room before you go outside to play!”

Jesus: “Dear woman, why do you involve me?”

And it wasn’t that Jesus didn’t care about the wine situation. It’s that He knew what time it was and what time is wasn’t. And then, something weird happened. His mom trumped him with the Mom Card. Even after Jesus clearly states that his time is not yet come, that is, that he is not ready for his “close-up”; not ready to be revealed as who He is, Mary ignores him. She turned to the servants (putting Jesus on the spot), and said, “Do whatever he tells you to do.”

So, a few minutes go by and 6 servants carry about 150 gallons of wine back to the party.

Yep, I typed that right: 150 GALLONS. Not a couple more bottles, not a case, but 150 gallons. Not only that, but when the master of the party tasted the wine he questioned the groom as to why in the world would he save the good stuff til later? Every self-respecting party-goer knows that you put the good stuff out first! I mean, it only makes sense–let the partiers get drunk on the best stuff, and then bring out the cheap stuff when nobody knows or cares about the difference. I mean, duh.

But this account of Jesus’ first miracle wraps up with a peculiar distinction. It was well before the wedding in Cana that Jesus had called His disciples. So, they were already following him and most likely right there with him at the wedding feast. They were disciples only in the sense of following, but look what happened after the party: “He thus revealed his glory, and the disciples put their faith in him.” (John 2:11)

Is it possible to follow Christ without putting your faith in Him? Is it possible that thousands, even tens of thousands, even millions of “followers” have yet to put their faith in Jesus? Is it possible that there are church buildings filled every week with followers who remain faithless?

This music video was made by a fellow youth pastor in California. If you have ever been to or led an overnighter, then you most likely won’t do it again–I denounced them years ago. Enjoy.

It’s the sure sign that the well is dry. When the blogger goes to blogging for the simple sake of blogging something. It’s pitiful–even pathetic. But here I am. Blogging.

Why the obligatory blog? Or shall we say “oblogatory”?

It’s really quite sad. The reason–shame. Pure and simple.
I’ve looked at other blogs and find mine stale and lacking. So, what do I do? I buckle down, take a deep breath, and come what may: produce something…ANYTHING.

See that “x” in the upper right hand corner? (Or the small red dot in the left corner for all you hippy mac users)
Go ahead. I deserve it.

Or stay. And join me while I pound out my thoughts with the sole company of Jon & Kate + 8 warbling in the background. Oops…commercial now. That gecko again.

Okay, Jerry. Enough. Put down something with substance.
My thoughts lately? How can the God who claims to be the same yesterday, today, and forever; the self-proclaimed “Alpha and Omega” do anything new? How can the thing I see Him doing all around me and even within me really be the “new thing” He says he’s doing..and has been doing…and will be doing? I think it’s because it is His character, His attributes, His personality that are constant; not His ways. His ways today are not (or at least do not seem to be) His ways of yesterday. Or last week. Or last year. He seems to be an ever-moving paradox of constant sameness that is never able to be figured out, pinned down, or defined. He moves in mysteries, He delights in confounding. But not in a way that seeks to frustrate those who would seek Him. It is the way I play hide and seek with my kids. Am I hiding? You better believe it. But the point of hiding is the joy of finding, isn’t it?

And He shocks, doesn’t He? How many times have I heard from other followers of Jesus, “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by what God did…but I am.” I think we SHOULD be surprised by what God does. Even when it’s the hundredth time He’s done it–because who are we to be interacting with this God at all? Any hint of familiarity between us and God can ever only flow in one direction. He knows us precisely and eternally. We know Him barely today and not much at all tomorrow. We walk with Him and find Him as astounding as when He spoke a word and there—–an ocean.

But it is in the mystery, the shocks, the unexpecteds, the wow-He-did-it-agains, that we can take the most comfort and strength. For it is His great joy to lead us in a way that is wonder-making. It is His very character to create awe with each movement. And it is ours to enjoy it.

Before you read this, read the blog immediately below this one. I wrote it a few days ago, before I knew anything that happened (in what I’m about to tell you) happened.

You back? Good. Keep reading.

Friday afternoon, I’m sitting at my desk at work when I get an email from my wife. She learned about an event happening at a local church called a “Manger Build”. And just as the name implies, it is an event designed for Dads to bring their kids and together build a manger.

I was immediately excited about the idea and almost as fast resolved in my mind that this manger build is what my Saturday morning (the very next day) would hold.

I came home and excitedly told my 3 oldest kids about it–Madison, Macy and Crews. Crews was almost immediately uninterested. But the girls were all about it. So, Saturday morning we headed out to Southside Baptist Church, found the room where the hammering was happening, and got started.

Let me say right here that another thing I learned Saturday is that my girls were born to swing a hammer! Neither of them had ever driven a nail before, I was totally expecting to have to teach them the finer points of grip and balance and all that stuff. They took to it like a fish to water! It did my heart good!

But more than that, I was deeply reminded that it’s the manger, not the tree that ought to be serve as the centerpiece to Christmas.

And as we built that manger together, took it home, and placed it next to our Christmas tree I was quickly reminded and thrust in my imagination to THE manger. The one that held the Messiah. I was reminded so strongly that God came into this rough cradle, this feed trough, for nothing more than love–love that would drive him to the cross–for the sole purpose of forgiving me.

And in perfect innocence, and a love for Jesus, as soon as we got home my girls wrapped up one of their dolls, “Sarah” who for now will be our Jesus.

Forgive me for not writing more. I know there are at least 2 people on the entire internet who have read this blog of mine.

Forgiveness, it seems to me is the most potent of all mental, emotional, social, and spiritual transactions that can take place. Nothing else has the power to do what true forgiveness can do. Forgiveness is something we are all in need of. No one who might ever read this (inluding the 2) can ever live very long at all without needing forgiveness for something.

It’s been said that to forgive is to set a prisoner free, only to realize that the prisoner was you.

Forgiveness was/is the chief purpose of the earthly life of Christ. And with Christmas a mere 5 days away, it seems fitting to sit a moment and soak in the reality of that fact. With all the attention on the manger, we ought to think about why the manger, why the advent, why the human birth of the Son of God, wherever it happened, was necessary? We give lots of attention to stars, and shepherds, and a virgin, and an inn, and angels, and wisemen, and gifts. But why would God stoop so low? Ironically enough, it’s quite easy for me (especially at this time) to focus so much on the birth of Christ that I literally miss the reason for the birth of Christ. And the reason was and is for the act of forgiveness. Nothing more, nothing less.

We’re told clearly in the Bible that Jesus came “to seek and to save that which was lost.” But that “lostness” is due to our need for forgiveness. It is we who are the offenders. It is humans who are the selfish ones. It is God who is selfless enough to give up His Son for the likes of me.

I’ve had recent situations in my life where forgiveness was necessary in both directions; both giving and receiving. And how anyone can withhold something given by God so freely is beyond my current ability to understand. When I grasp my need to be forgiven by God and find that He is more than willing time and time again to pour out that forgiveness, then I find that giving that forgiveness to those who need it from me is more than a pleasure; it is the very reflection of God.

This Christmas season, my prayer for myself and my family is that we will look beyond the manger to the reason that a child was placed in it at all.