Dying twice

I’ve poured over John 11 more times than I can count, forming and reforming messages throughout my days. Reading it again this morning, something new struck me:

I have always seen the picture in the story as something bittersweet – Jesus, though frustrated that the people around him can’t see what he’s really capable of (or at least won’t trust him), still raises Lazarus from the dead-dead (the three-days, smelly kind of death). Everyone is impressed by Jesus’ greatness, and many start to follow him, seeing that he’s capable of doing the works of the true God. Triumph from tragedy.

But I’ve never really thought about what came after that – tragedy led to triumph, which later led to tragedy again: Lazarus died again, as if it isn’t bad enough to have to die once. Imagine feeling yourself fade from existence while you watch the sorrowed look upon your family’s face, then returning to them with joy, only to, even if years later, have to do it all over again.

I think I’d choose just one death – and that’s what I’m thinking about today. I can guarantee you that despite my longings to remain constantly cognizant of the big picture, the everyday details inevitably overcome my mind. Thus, so often, my hopes for the movement of God are centered on the immediate, at the cost of remembering the bigger story that’s unfolding around us. I want Lazarus to live again, instead of wanting Lazarus to live forever. Jesus acted on the immediate, but he chose to still allow the bigger plan unfold, even if it meant Lazarus had to die again.

In my shortsightedness, what am I missing? In my urgent prayers, what am I forgetting to be deeply true? I’m not saying that the small details of my life aren’t subject to divine providence, but I guess what I’m hoping for today is that my desire to bring all things before God is overshadowed by the desire to subject all desires to the bigger picture – letting them be shaped by the one creating the picture in the first place. Today I want to accept that though God is working in the now, He has the future in mind, even if that means that things won’t work out how I’d like.

Who to pity?

I watched a segment on CBS Sunday morning (the best show on television) about a movie coming out, based upon a book recently written. As a favor, I’m going to spare you the names and details. It’s not that either product is bad in quality; it’s that they are so horrible in subject matter that your curiosity, like mine, will lead you to try and find the story so that you can see it for yourself – and for your sake, I don’t want your mind to have to take the journey mine already has. It will suffice to say this: I have never heard or seen the depth of evil that I saw in this story. It is so awful, that reading only the few number of pages of the book that I did, I literally felt sick in my stomach, and fought tears and rage for the next hour after putting the book down. It left me thinking about a lot, but three ideas are distilling.

First – Knowing that these kinds of things are happening in the world, right now, as I’m writing this, is still difficult for me to stomach. As these things are happening, God stands right in the middle of them, seeing everything. This is almost incomprehensible. The idea that God has such a high level of patience, even with a higher standard of justice than me, such that he doesn’t destroy people instantaneously…. I know that Yahweh is smarter than me, and so he tolerates things that I can’t in order to accomplish something more grand than I can imagine, but it still leaves me crying out, “How long, oh LORD, will you tolerate injustice?”

Second – I don’t care how much I’ve whined about not having a job or watching our savings dwindle down by the day, I live a completely and ridiculously blessed life, far beyond anything I deserve. Nothing that I have done warrants that this morning I’m writing on a computer, sitting in my warm house, sipping coffee, looking out the window at a blanket of snow while my beautiful family sleeps peacefully. There is no reason why I should expect to deserve safety, or comfort, or sustenance. No reason that today I’m not a Haitian struggling with the loss of everything or a man dealing with the wounds and scars of wrongs done to me as a child. And the truth is, this is almost as incomprehensible as the first point. For some reason, we think it insane that God can tolerate injustices, but we normally mean the bad things people have to endure. Is it any more just that I’m sitting in luxury while others writhe in agony?

Third – You can’t hear this story and avoid pity for this poor victim. Yet, almost as soon as you sense your pity, you sense rage against those who committed such evil acts. I’m glad for the first reaction, but I’m questioning the second. In no way do I wish to minimize the evils wrought against this poor soul, but I’m finding that true grace also sees the perpetrators as legitimate objects of pity. No one is waking up this morning saying, “Today, I want to torture someone for the first time,” or “Today, I’m hoping to switch from regular to child pornography.” These things happen with subtlety, incrementally degrading us over time. Thus, when we see a monstrous action, it did not happen in a vacuum – it was just one small step beyond all the poor choices that came before it. But even before that, how many evils are committed a result of wrongs done to us? I’d be willing to bet that half the reason that we are supposed to be people of forgiveness is for our own protection, not simply benevolence to others.
Can I look into the face of someone who has just committed the most heinous of offenses I can imagine, look deep into his eyes and pity what I see there? I’m not sure I can – it will certainly take a power that is well beyond me.

This morning, the world does not need another judge – the results of their own actions are often worse than any judgment I could pronounce. Today, the world will not need Christian bumper sticker platitudes. Before they bed down for the evening, much of the world will already be filled with a sense of loss, loneliness, and pain. And I pray for us all, that in that moment, they will be able to recall a picture of hope that was lived out in someone encountered today – someone of a deepened, mature faith, tapped into power far beyond humanity.

Clinging to the Dock

We know that Yahweh has spoken to Moses – but this one, we don’t know where he came from. John 9:29

I don’t care how much we’re supposed to believe that they’re the bad guys, I can completely see why some people would have struggled with this idea. If your entire life of following God had been wrapped up in how closely you adhere to the principles passed down through Moses by God, when someone comes along seeming to have God’s power, but doesn’t play by the rules, it would make anyone question. It’s even intriguing why Jesus healed on the Sabbath at all – it seems that he would have been far more effective with the religious if he had played by their rules a little bit, but that’s another meditation for another time.

What I’m thinking about today is a simple question: While clinging to certainty, how much do we miss in what God tries to do with and around us? These guys had a foundation – follow Moses and Yahweh will be pleased. So when someone comes along, speaking with authority and doing extraordinary things, their world got turned upside down. As you cling to the dock where things are certain, you miss the departing ship on account of its unanswered questions: Where is it going? Who will be with me? What if something bad happens?

God wants us to be wise, the most shrewd of beings living in the Kingdom. Wisdom would have us stay where things are grounded, safe, and certain. But occasionally, in attempt to be wise, we miss the call to something big. Maybe it’s because certainty is totally elusive to me now, but I know in my spirit that there is a desire to miss nothing of the possibility of Kingdom adventure.

How do I know the difference between when I should stay and when I should venture out? I don’t know that answer yet…like I said, I’m just thinking about this today. But the very fact that I don’t know the answer right now may in fact be part of the lesson itself.

What you find when you’re wandering

I haven’t written in a long while…not just here, but in my journals as well. It’s almost like I’ve inadvertently made a reverse New Year’s resolution to do less of something that I’ve found important. However, after a couple of loving encouragements from friends, it got me thinking this morning about why I haven’t written.

We’re midway through our fifth month of unemployment, though I’ve learned not to even really say that to people, because as soon as I do, I often hear someone else say, “Yeah man. I’ve been out of work for like a year.” I can honestly say that I worry about it a bit less, but every day presents some small struggle on that battlefront. As I continue to look for work, there is an aimlessness to my day. Sure, God provided a very part-time job, but it’s clear that it won’t be the source by which He provides the money we appear to need. Nonetheless, I have a little bit of structure, but for a while, the aimlessness remained, showing itself in a variety of ways.

I think where things began to change is when I decided to start applying to law enforcement agencies again. Though it was something I had thought about doing after High School, I obviously never pursued it, choosing instead to enjoy the opportunities placed in front of me for the last 10 years. But picking the pursuit back up again has done something interesting. First, the effects are physical – if you want a job, you have to look the part. Off came the beard; the hair got shorter; I worked out harder; I’m wearing ties more often. Changes in how I spent time obviously came, being filled with background check paperwork, studying for tests, driving to locations, timed runs, dragging around weighted mannequins, etc. But the biggest change is that there was a direction, a pursuit, that was organizing my day. Unlike pursuing any job you can find, pursuing a specific job like this necessarily creates a structure to how your day is spent.

Now this is not where I say something like, “So I didn’t write because I was busy.” Yes, that’s probably true, but I think it’s deeper than that. As I think about it this morning, I think it’s really something else. I heard a wonderful quote sometime in the last couple of weeks (I think it was associated with the video of the guy singing Hey Jude in the airport). Someone quipped something to the effect of, “It’s easy to act like a Christian. It’s how we react that shows what’s really inside of us.” When things don’t go as planned, when you’re forced to wander, pieces of you that don’t normally show themselves start to surface.

The more I felt like I was wandering, the more I wrote, probably to somehow subconsciously provide some order for my life – to make sense out of things. When an ordering structure began to take a hold of me, some of the source from which I was writing started to fade back behind the curtain of my soul again. It’s this phenomenon that has me thinking today: What if you like what you find in yourself when you’re wandering? Sure, there’s stuff in there that I don’t like, but there’s another side that is something God has made me to be for the Kingdom and for the World, and I’d rather not lose that.

So here’s the paragraph of “I don’t knows.” I don’t know why certain sides of me come a go. I don’t know if what’s ordering my time now will continue to do so – if it’s anything like the other application processes I’ve endured thus far, most of it will probably be a lot of work for little payoff. I still don’t know what I’m becoming or where I’m going.

But here’s the paragraph of hopes for you and me: Whatever we may find out about ourselves in those directionless times, let us hold fast to what is good. If God can truly order the course of human events, He may have ordered things in such a way that He wanted those sides of us to show, but then He may leave it to us to cling to them as He fosters their development. I’m going to try to re-grasp what I was already starting to lose, and I hope that my reaching will help you do the same.

Almost Famous

During a time in which I should be watching Christmas movies, I don’t….there aren’t enough of them that I need to see, and one can only watch Elf so many times. However, my “It’s a Wonderful Life” is the movie Almost Famous. It’s not for those who are easily offended, but if you know me AT ALL, upon seeing this movie, you’ll know why I chose to watch it for my birthday…it bleeds the life of music.

When there’s no light

I will neither bore you nor drag you down today with details, for they are all really inconsequential to my main point. However, it is dark inside me today.

Imagine walking through a darkened house – one in which it is truly dark, not just city lights creeping through the cracked shutters dark, but truly black, can’t see your hand in front of your face dark. In such conditions, if you have to walk from one point to another, you are in danger of a toe-stubbing, shin-gouging journey. However, you have two allies. There are times when light is available to you – when you can reach out and flip a switch or turn on a flashlight or flick on your cell phone – then you have a means of safely traversing your room. If there is no light available, you have but one remaining option – remembrance. You may not truly be able to see where you’re going, but if you focus on the trail that you’ve implanted in your memory, sometimes, you can walk uninjured to your destination.

Though it’s not really a good metaphor, this is the reason that strikes me why I journal. Today, there is little to no light available for my journey. However, I flipped in my journal to today, one year prior. It was there that I read a moment in time where light had full power in my soul, and all darkness had fled. Though reading that entry does not provide the means for me to see today, it is like closing my eyes and remembering where I’ve walked before, knowing that this ground is indeed traversable.

Even if you hate to do it, write down your story, because you will inevitably forget some chapters, and some of those small parts may be just the memories that you need to move through today.

Those twelve stones which they had taken from the Jordan, Joshua set up at Gilgal. He said to the sons of Israel, “When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, `What are these stones?’ then you shall inform your children, saying, `Israel crossed this Jordan on dry ground.’ “For the LORD your God dried up the waters of the Jordan before you until you had crossed, just as the LORD your God had done to the Red Sea, which He dried up before us until we had crossed; that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the LORD is mighty, so that you may fear the LORD your God forever.” Joshua 4

Flowers in the Battlefield

Even in the midst of battlefields, flowers can grow, and if one does not stop to see them, the battle alone will dominate the consciousness.

For no other reason other than choosing to focus on them, I want to share with you some of the little flowers that have been growing in my battlefield that you might share their little, life-giving qualities with me:

Food:
I managed to find Starbucks Gold Coast blend in a Supermarket – the best American coffee I’ve had. They’ve even lowered the price!

Music:
I was given an Itunes gift card so I was able to purchase music (something I haven’t done in quite some time). Here are some thoughts:
- Many told me that I would enjoy Ray LaMontagne, so I took a chance on his album Gossip in the Grain. The first track has a soul tliving in the 70s though it was recorded recently – I feel this way most days. I’ve only listened to the album once through, so I’m not impressed with it yet, but it’s got a cool live song called “Empty” at the end, which has a beautiful pedal steel in it that makes me happy.
- If you follow me on Twitter, you saw the link of a video by The Civil Wars. I did not find this duo on my own (thanks again Darin), but I bought their EP Poison and Wine, and it’s been haunting me since. They’re like an American Swell Season, but the girl has an even stronger voice.
- Counting Crows had always been one of my favorite bands, but then they somehow lost their way and wrote a song for one of the Shrek movies, among other missteps, so I lost interest. I had listened to their newest record Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings awhile ago, but I wasn’t convinced I needed to own it. On a whim, I bought it, and though it’s not exemplary, there are some really cool tracks on it, like “Cowboys.” You can watch a version of it here if you’re seeking enrichment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5gCtV3vWe4
- Though I didn’t buy it, I got a chance to listen to John Mayer’s new album. I’m a certified Mayerphile, so it was good to finally be able to hear it. I recently read it best in an online review that stated, “If Continuum didn’t make you a John Mayer fan, then Battle Studies [the new record] certainly won’t do the trick.” Indeed – it is a return to full-blooded pop trying to meld Fleetwood Mac (“Half of my Heart), the Beatles (Friends, Lovers, or Nothing), and some deranged thoughts about Cream (what were you thinking about doing “Crossroads” on an album?!? Live is one thing, but on an album?!?). Those who have hated the record must do two things: 1. Watch some of the videos of John playing the stuff live, like “Heartbreak Warfare.” in which you’ll notice that what sounds like a computer loop on the record is something he’s doing with a Strat; thus, you might be impressed and be more inclined toward toleration. 2. Listen to Assassin as many times as possible…and maybe even try to find the Youtube video of his first thoughts on the song when he was visiting Berkley school of music. On second thought, just watch it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUPDHHxS4sA

Literature:
- Hemmingway has always been a guilty pleasure of mine – I always know how his books will end, and they’re often about trying to see the light while rarely escaping the darkness of humanity. Nonetheless, I’m reading The Sun Also Rises for like the fourth time in my life, and I still love it. I love how he writes, I love his characters, I love how he often just lets the dialogue lead the story and push us into the characters.
- I got some money for my approaching birthday (it’s not too late to get me a present) so I finally subscribed to The Surfer’s Journal, the best surfing magazine ever…if you can even call it a magazine. In the recent addition, though the cover shot is some kid launching some ridiculous aerial, the second article is a comparison of the Transcendentalist authors Emmerson and Thoreau and how they can inform our understanding of the journey of surfing – though it’s not perfect, it is the core of why that magazine is beautiful.

Finally:
- Propane is getting more expensive, so we’ve been heating the house with our fireplace. I weep for many of you, who like modern day primordial men, lack fire for your homes.
- If you don’t know my son, you’re sad…he’s fantastic, and with nothing pulling me away from the house, I have a lot of time to be with him.

In fact, I think I’ve written enough for now…it’s time to go play.

What do you want?

In John 1, there is a great, though small anecdote of Jesus’ first 2 followers.

These guys, one of whom we find out is named Andrew, the other who isn’t identified (which probably means that it’s John, the story’s author) were the follower type. I don’t know whether they were genuine seekers of truth or just sheep that needed someone else around which to wrap their lives, but they had already attached themselves to crazy-John, the guy who voluntarily lived in the wilderness, shouting a message of change and initiating people into it. They had aligned themselves with this lunatic because something in his message rang true in their hearts – true enough to forsake the city life and follow after a guy who’s main sustenance was bugs. It clearly wasn’t a ritzy lifestyle, so we know that Andrew and the Unnamed were already pretty hard-core guys.

One day, as they were waiting for what the Loon will do next, they see him point to someone. They had heard him allude to one that was still to come – someone that would change it all and bring hope – he had even referenced himself as the herald of Isaiah 40, which if you read that chapter, you realize that this was the heralding of hope that everyone had been waiting for. This day, their teacher identified the anticipated man, and his name was Jesus. As the story is told, our two characters almost instinctively dropped their plans of following John, and immediately chased after Jesus.

But then came the moment of truth: Jesus, knowing how people love to watch freak shows and train wrecks, turns to them and asks, “What are you really seeking?” I know if I was Andrew in that moment, my entire being would freeze in fear…I’m under the microscope now. How do you answer that question? Chances are, they had followed after Jesus just because it seemed like the right thing to do. But who can help but think of all the things you had been hoping for from the promised one: a liberator, a visionary, a revolutionary, a healer, a king, the one who would lead the coup that would finally return Shalom – fullness and well being. I know I’d be wanting to get a piece of that action. But what do you do when the man himself turns to you and directly calls you to evaluate what you’re after?

I probably would have said something dumb. “Brad, what are you really looking for?” As my left eye briefly twitched, “Um…I don’t know, really. John said you were the guy, and I’m guessing that it’s best to be on your team before the crap hits the fan. Say, listen. Am I going to need a weapon or something? I’ve been watching MMA fights, so I kind of know how to choke a guy out now, but I’m guessing that it’s going to be bigger than one-on-ones….”

They answered wisely. Of all the things they could have said, all they asked was, “Where are you staying?” If this really was the guy, now wasn’t the time for requests. Now was simply the time to follow the man, being rewarded only by the fact that you were allowed to be near him.

What scares me the most is that I can almost hear Jesus asking me the same question today: “Brad, what are you really wanting from me.” I know what I probably should want, and I know that what I actually want doesn’t match up…and I know that he knows what I really want.

One of the more amazing things about God is how often He doesn’t press the “Smite” button.

Update: Whimpiness and Question Avoidance

This one is going to be a little less filtered than normal, so if something strikes you funny, blame it on the fact that I should be sleeping instead, but chose to finally ‘fess up.

Many have been asking me about various things things I ambiguously allude to online about tests or interviews or applications and what-have-you. Those of you that have asked may at one point wondered, how come Brad never answers me when I ask him what’s going on with what he briefly and ambiguously alluded to online? (if you really wonder using those words, I’m sorry)

Here’s the simple answer: I’m a coward

For any of you who have had the pleasure of job searching, you know that a lot of hard work goes out for basically little to no pay-off. I have now lost count of the number of resumes sent, the number of hours online searching, the number of miles driven for tests…. This obviously starts to wear on you.

But here’s another difficulty that I didn’t really see coming – support. I love that we are supported by so many people who have expressed their love for us by their prayers and requests to find out how God has been answering those prayers. I’m honored by all the time that others have expended on my behalf. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

That being said, it’s really hard to explain what it’s like to see someone I know and to know that the first question of the conversation after the common pleasantries will be, “How’s the job search going?” I know this question is coming from a place of love, and so it’s even harder to have to look into someone’s eyes (why I normally look at the ground) and tell them that there has been no progress and that anything that might be a possibility is still so far remote that it’s not worth mentioning.

I know it’s not my job to make sure the prayers of others are answered, but it’s like this odd double whammy when I see someone I know – not only do I have my own exhaustion/self-disappointment still seeing no end in sight, but I also evoke it from others who are trying to share the burden with me, but like me would really rather the burden just go away. I know I’m not the one disappointing them, but knowing that I have nothing to say and the resulting sympathy/pity that will ensue makes me feel like a downer. Inasmuch as I appreciate the support, somehow, at least in my experience, it just gets worse and worse as time goes by.

So what should we all do about this? I have no clue. I just wanted to let you know where I’ve been at. Don’t stop praying for us, and please don’t stop caring. But I guess I have one small favor I ask of you: Next time I see you – let’s talk about something else, and if I’ve got something to share about employment, I’ll let you know.

Thanks for the indulgence.

Looking down the barrel

“By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, ‘Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.’ He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead….” (Heb 11:17-19a)

This was a healthy dose of courage for me this morning. Abraham boldly looked down the barrel of the impossible, not knowing how God could pull the trigger yet still make things work out as promised.

I can picture him, taking the knife in his hand, seeing the look on Isaac’s face – a look of terror, disbelief, and the loss of all trust in the strongest human figure in his life. I can imagine Abraham thinking, “This can’t be happening. He promised that I would have this boy – I had to wait 22 years for him. He promised that this boy would have others. There’s no way that this can work.” Yet his strongest thought: “If I kill him, Yahweh will raise him again…so I will kill him as instructed.”

This picture is so stark, so brutal, so terrifying, so ugly, so confusing, so human – filled with sweat and screams and steel, mingled with fear…

…and faith…

Abraham legitimately believed that God could make sense out of mess. I want this

p.s. I seriously doubt whether Isaac ever went hiking with dad again