The Way Up

Leave it to our surprising Father to turn our world upside down. Just when we think our equilibrium is returning, he'll introduce another reason to give us a bad case of vertigo (all done in love, of course, and to help us to our knees).

Take our way of talking, for example. After we've exhausted ourselves in an angry outburst that feels really good (otherwise, why do it?) he reminds us: "Now consider this: "a gentle word can break a bone (Proverbs 25:15)" - not to mention, a hard heart.  Hmmm. So "pumping up the volume," and looking more intense doesn't actually fly to win arguments? Or change my kid's behavior? (Not that I've given up on it altogether, you know.)

Or how about this one: "Humble yourself before me, and I will lift you up (Jas. 4:10 )." Now there's one that really goes against the grain! Does he really mean to imply that "the way up is actually the way down" - down to your knees? Yep, that's what he said!

Pixar's new movie Up provides a great opportunity to talk about such upside-down realities. Carl Fredricksen, the leading man and octogenarian in the film (now there's a novelty in a youth-obsessed culture) can actually float his house away with thousands of balloons, but it seems he can't lift his own heart. Grieving the loss of his beloved wife Ellie (and their beautiful, word-less montage of a life spent together at the film's beginning is worth the price of admission), the widowed, childless Carl (Ed Asner) believes that riding out his time in solitude and despair seems like a perfect idea. After all, to his mind there's just no way "up" - or is there?

Things are Looking Up
But "up" does come when (surprise), a small boy named Russel (Jordan Nagai) winds up on Carl's door-step, trying hard to earn his Wilderness Explorer service badge. (Take note whenever someone small shows up in a storyline. Remember how Frodo, Middle Earth's smallest guy, is the one who ends up as the ring-bearer; not to mention a certain baby who begins life in an animal feed-trough - then purposely chooses the weakness of a cross to triumph?)

Thrown together "by accident" when Carl decides to float away from it all, Russel (the son of an absentee-father) ends up with a most unpromising challenge: earning a service badge with a crotchety old man. At the same time, Carl is faced with the most unappealing - and humbling - prospect of coming out of himself to love again. The friendship that ensues between the two brings a whole new adventure that neither had in mind at the start. What could be more upside-down - and delightful - than that?

Knowing and Being Known
A story like this hits close to home and even brings tears, because we all relate in some way to Carl or Russel. Haven't we all experienced these heart-losses of some sort - whether of close relationship, or status, or even (like Carl) health-changes slowly leading to being more dependent on others (or at least a metal cane with tennis balls on the feet?) Why not just crawl safely inside our houses and hearts and slam the door shut tightly on the rest of the world? Who needs the challenge of real relationship anyway - of knowing others, and being known by them?

You do! This Father's day especially, see this important picture: like Russel, even if you are deeply missing a father who isn't around, know that there is One who invites you to share with him your heart. One who calls himself  "a Father to the father-less, a Defender of widows" (Ps. 68:5). Here, in the true God, is a surprisingly-present Father who holds out to you the "give and take" of honest relationship. One who invites you to actually speak and cry out to Him about your struggles and joys, for his ear is always attentive to your voice.

And this is how He works: He resists the proud, but reveals himself to little children, even to little "Russels" like you - who in turn can help melt the heart of a proud "Carl." This Father's undeserved grace always flows downhill - to the humble sinner on his knees - which is everyone who admits their great need and submits themselves to be loved. This Father is "full of compassion," and never tires of lifting you up in His embrace and renewing your tired heart with his prodigal ("extravagant") love. And this Father has forever written his love-letter of kindness and grace in the Gospel, for Jesus said, "to see me is to see the Father." So go ahead, call Him Abba ("daddy") Father:

"So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God's Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, "Abba, Father." (Romans 8:15)

Yes, this Father promises to literally turn your world upside down - but for your great good. The important thing to remember is that you deserve none of it, but he has left all his comforts to come down to you, and endure great pain, so you could be known. And so you could rise up, as a loved son or daughter. Old hearts of stone made soft - now what could be more upside-down than that?

Why the Card Didn't Come

Hello again, my friend,

Well, another Mother’s day, down the tubes. (I know you’re glad to see it gone. Sorry to bring it up again.)
And why shouldn’t you be, really? You’ve told me your stories. You’ve mentioned how you used to sit in church, dreading every Mother’s day while all the “good” mothers were being praised. You spoke of how you sat there and simmered, silently thinking, “But you don’t know my mother.” You’ve even mentioned how you might give Hallmark some interesting new suggestions.

I’ve also heard you – through buckets of tears - speak of your painful miscarriage(s) (between 10 and 25% of all pregnancies). You didn’t want to talk about the abortion you had (nearly 43% of all women) - which, you said if you even allowed yourself a moment to think about it, would tear you apart. I’ve heard you whisper, “let’s not even go there.” Sad but true, Mother’s day for you might just be the worst day of the year.

Well, if you’ll allow me, I want to make a new day, in your honor. Let’s call it, “Mercy Day.” But, my friend, be warned. Some churches won’t like it – you won’t really fit in to their happy schedule. As you well know, the greeting card industry won’t have a place for you either. Your family might even give you grief for mentioning the reason. Most of them won’t understand, or even try. But here’s some good news: your real Father (who also sounds a lot like a mother too) will. Listen to how He speaks:

“Can [your] mother forget the baby at her breast, and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” ~ Isaiah 49:15

Or,

“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you, and you will be comforted.” Isaiah 66:13

Beautiful stuff, huh? Little did you know, seven hundred years before Jesus came, God was speaking to Isaiah about you. He spoke because He knew that while most mothers would fight like a bear to protect her cubs, some (sadly) would forget. To you, the abandoned cub, He now speaks: there is great compassion and mercy at the hands of Jesus, indelibly etched there for you. He did fight for you, and he won. Call that day the real Mercy day.

And, my friend, though you never had good mothering, my prayer is that we may find you a spiritual mother to love you well (see Titus 2). His church is meant for just such things. But also remember - and here’s the other important part about Mercy day – no one really deserves it. It’s true – neither a mom who remembers, or one who forgets - actually deserves mercy. We’re all rebellious, and so it is extended to both in His cross.

Mercy day then becomes a challenge and an opportunity for you to extend mercy to the most undeserving (you know who I’m thinking of), precisely because God - the One who loves you better than even the best mother will - has shown it to the undeserving (you). Think about it, and we can talk later about what that may look like.

As well, I hope you know that Mercy day also acknowledges the pain of the “empty nest” you now know. It moves with compassion to comfort a mother (and father) who keenly feel that ache and loss, for “He is close to the broken-hearted.” Mercy day becomes an opportunity for us to acknowledge your very real loss as well, to draw close and let you know that we (your true family) remember you, and so does your Father. We can remember because real mercy flows ultimately from the heart of a Father who knows what it feels like to lose his beloved Son.

Well, perhaps you've guessed where I’m going with all this. Can you see that, in reality, every day is Mercy day for us? It’s only by His mercy that we get to stand here on this earth. Only by that mercy that we breathe, that our hearts beat, that we can try to love again. In fact it’s only by mercy that we can exclaim each day: “…His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22,23)

So allow me to be the first to wish you a “Happy Mercy Day.” May you live gratefully in that mercy, and find your true purpose in extending it to others. And who knows? Maybe you’ve got a future in the greeting card business after all.

Square One

I once heard the story of how that great champion of golf, Jack Nicklaus, (aka the “Golden Bear”) returned home to his favorite instructor, Jack Grout, with a seemingly odd request: “Teach me again how to golf.” Why, one might wonder, would the world’s greatest golfer - with more major title wins than anyone - need to ask such a thing?

The reason, Nicklaus said, had to do with returning to the basics when he was starting to forget: correcting his swing, keeping his head down, eye on the ball. Square-one stuff, as it were.

Getting back to square-one is important in golf and games of skill, but even more so when it comes to diagnosing matters of the heart. It’s especially necessary because our hearts are always getting lost, looking for ultimate value and meaning (essentially what the word “worship” means) in all the wrong places; “deceitful above all things,” is the way the prophet Jeremiah put it, and “desperately wicked” (see Jer. 17:9. Hey, not too p.c. there, Jerry!)

Returning to square-one then is really learning to see where our hearts have wound up - what sort of deep weeds they’ve gotten into - as well as our only real remedy out of the rough. With this in mind, here are some “square one” propositions worth telling your heart  (and especially so when you think Jeremiah just might be looking your way again):

1.) Listen - It’s All About Jesus.
Sounds cliché I know, but it really is. Speak this loudly to your heart, again and again. All your deepest questions about your purpose and place in this world begin and end in him. When Jesus summarized the whole Bible as really pointing to Himself, saying that the entire Old Testament Scriptures spoke of Him (Lk. 24:27), he was giving us a huge square-one truth: It’s His cross that stands as the center-piece of history, and which is rebellious mankind’s only hope.

Ask your heart, “is it possible you’ve gotten off track and thought it was really all about you – your need to be right,  to be approved of and look good, and be esteemed? Welcome back to sanity, and clarity: you're worse than you ever thought you were, but Jesus' grace is so much better than you ever dreamed. Jesus alone has what you need most – grace, forgiveness, identity, approval, love, and even a new family to help you remember…that it’s really all about Him.

2.) You are Here to Love.
Again, this could sound sort of trite, if it weren’t true. As counselor Ed Welch notes, it’s inevitable: what you find in your relationship with people is what you find in your relationship with God. Have you tasted his grace, the grace of Jesus, who shows you what love really looks like – by laying down his very life – for you? The “square-one” truth is this: you will only love to the degree that you know how much you are loved.

This means that your true purpose – the whole reason why you exist, is in fact, love. (This tends to sort out a lot of foggy thinking about what you should do with yourself in your spare time too). It’s all wrapped up in two nice summary statements by Jesus: love God with all your heart, mind, and strength; followed by the second - love your neighbor as yourself.

But wait! Don’t click this article off without noting the vitally important square-one corollary to this truth: You can try these two things (the summation of all the law) but you will never do either of them perfectly - but that’s why going back to our first proposition is so vitally important. Jesus has loved enough for the both of you, and the secret is, the more you learn to rest in His performance, and to the degree that you know how much you are loved, you’ll actually be thinking more of others, and worrying less about you. Like I told you, Jesus has what you really need – and it’s a whole lot of love.

3.) He’s Bigger Than You, and By the Way, He Owns the World.
I know you wonder about things like “how can I manage “my world” and not get hurt?” As one of my pastor friends put it this past Sunday, “What if the mountains, i.e. the so-called stable places and people in your life, really do fall into the heart of the sea?" (Psalm 46). The answer is another square-one truth, as he went on to say: Jesus really is bigger and better than anything – including any person, place, or thing you can dream up, even in your wildest of dreams. And it is His world, as He reminded Job in the darkness of that whirlwind with all those nature and astronomy lessons, so He wisely knows what He’s doing with you too.

So when you forget that, and you probably will - remember that He will never, ever, forget you; you are more loved than all the many birds of this earth which he feeds, and the myriad beautiful flowers that he clothes with uncommon splendor (Matt.6:25-34). Then you’ll remember that you were made to find joy in worshipping and enjoying Him, the One who says “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20)

Do me a favor and bring me back to "square-one" when I forget, will you?

You Have Prayer

Remember that great scene at the end of Bruce Almighty (and if you haven’t seen this 2003 film by now, read no further and go rent it!) when Bruce is walking in the rain and begins to pray? Frustrated and spent from all his failed attempts to “play God,” Bruce (Jim Carrey) groans his only prayer to the skies that now seem to weep for him: “I don’t want to be God anymore…I want you to decide what’s best for me!” Is there a better prayer for us when we realize we’ve lost our way?

Bruce Almighty is actually a story that comically reveals some of our deepest (and most tragic) issues – hugely relevant for counseling - in wonderful style - one of the most important being why and how we pray.

Why We Don’t Pray
As the story of Buffalo news reporter Bruce Nolan’s experience unfolds, we're helpfully shown why he doesn’t trust conversation with God. The evening anchorman position (the “Walter Cronkite” job of his dreams) seems finally in his grasp – only to be given to a undeserving schmuck (a hilarious Steve Carrel). Anger at God – the One who gives life and work and can also take it away - seems perfectly justified. Life isn’t working out as Bruce planned, so God can’t be good, can He? Capricious, mean-spirited? Probably. Certainly not worth trusting! So why not take matters into our own hands?

Invited by God (Morgan Freeman) to his "Omni Presents" company, Bruce is given the chance to do just that - a fascinating opportunity because its essentially how we we want to live anyway. But as the world begins to fall apart - the natural outcome of a such a choice - Bruce learns the obvious truth: he is not wise, nor can he bring about what is really best through his selfish choices.

Most of us know only too well how disappointment easily morphs into bitterness and neglect of others (including God), replaced by the “golden calf” that now fills our thought-life and desires. Wrapped up in our self-referential focus, as evidenced in our quest for self-esteem, approval, or penchant to live in self-pity (all powerful narcotics), we stop believing that His way is actually best for us. So why have conversation with Him? Playing God seems a much better option.

What Prayer Can Show Us
At first glance, it's easy for me to think how foolish this scenario seems. But isn't every selfish choice a small attempt to "play God" in my life too? So, what if I could learn to stop – before my life completely unravels like Bruce’s – and learn to push the “pause-button” on my heart to examine closer (as David Powlison wisely says) what I might be missing? Could part of the purpose of prayer, even in the seemingly mundane details of everyday life and work, actually be to bring me “face-to-face” with the real God – so that I also begin to see me and my experience in a new light? (John Calvin was one who famously noted this important “knowledge of God/knowledge of myself” connection in the first paragraph of his Institutes.)

Prayer – even one where we wrestle like Jacob to know God’s blessing - immediately ushers us into some new realities that we desperately need to see. Let’s consider two which also come through in a wonderfully insightful way in the story of Bruce Nolan.

1.) Father, your grace alone is what holds us up…
I love the fact that Bruce’s love-interest in the film (played appealingly by Jennifer Anniston) is named Grace! While Bruce rants and is preoccupied elsewhere, she loves and supports him anyway, just as the grace of God supports us through all our wanderings. And while most of us aren’t so bold to believe we can walk on water (at least, not all of the time!) as Bruce does at one point in the film – and inevitably runs into God – somehow it seems easier to believe we are the ones holding ourselves and our family up in the mundane, everyday stuff of life.

Remember Jonah’s prayer when he sank down into the deep, seaweed wrapped around his head? "Salvation belongs to our God,” he finally cried (see 2:9), safe in the belly of a great fish we could also call “Grace.” God would later use him to extend grace to a ruthless people (the Assyrians), a disappointing fact that Jonah hated. Of course God doesn’t need us one bit, but by His grace He is pleased to use us – and our prayers - to bring Himself glory in His great redemption plan and ongoing transformation of sinners.

Prayer then is an opportunity to pierce the “forgetfulness of the mundane” with the light of the Divine, showing us how even the small things matter (just as Grace serves the small children in her daycare) and to confess who really holds us up. We are here for love, and only can do so by His goodness, wisdom, and grace.

2.) …and You, the Wonderful Counselor, can bring real change.
Particularly relevant to counseling, prayer is also the intentional “giving of another” (as John Eldredge puts it) to God to do the changing. Just as prayer reminds us of who God really is – a reality that Bruce and we so desperately need - we ask God in prayer that He would do what only He can, and that is turn stone hearts into soft flesh. Recognizing this, we must ask ourselves, “Is there a part of me (even a secret part) that thinks I can control or “effect” change in another by my own force of will, fine theological arguments and precise counsel?” Do I ever act as if throwing a Bible verse at a person and saying “just do it” will bring change? If so, I have begun to play God (or a warped version of Him) like Bruce – instead of seeing myself as a fellow beggar and an instrument to bring others to Him and His transforming Gospel of grace.

There's a great scene in the film along these lines, and it comes when Grace weeps a prayer on her bed to God to “Help me to let him (Bruce) go.” She realizes she doesn’t want to attach herself to a life with him as any kind of false savior. Yes, she still loves him, but loving him now means “letting him go” to reap what he sows, just as the Father does for his rebellious child (Luke 15:11-32) who once tasted of His grace. This scene reminds us that entrusting another ultimately to God is a vital posture toward the whole relational process of change, remembering who the real Holy Spirit is – (and it’s not us.)

Finally then, with the recognition of the centrality of grace, and reliance on the Sovereign work of God in human hearts and in counseling, let us finish the prayer….

“You, our Father, promise to be close to the broken-hearted. Help us trust you, the real God. Show yourself strong to save, show yourself the lover of our souls, even as you have already in the Gospel of the cross and resurrection – the triumphant defeat of sin and death through your Son, and the glorious redemption, new identity, and transforming power you give as a gift of grace to those who simply believe. Help us to know how wide, and how long, and how high, and how deep your love for us really is.  Amen."

(Note: It’s worth mentioning that, unfortunately, many Christians avoided Bruce Almighty completely, wrongly surmising they couldn’t relate to the idea of blasphemy. They must have forgotten that the redemption of blasphemers – which is what the film demonstrates so creatively and well - is precisely what Jesus came to do. Did they also forget that the entire Bible is chock full of characters who do ugly and blasphemous (not to mention just plain laughable) things – from lying Abraham to adulterous David to murderous St. Paul?)  For more insight on these things, see a great interview with the film’s director Tom Shadyac at http://www.hollywoodjesus.com/bruce_almighty.htm)

Exploring Myths and Transformation in Grief

There’s a hilarious episode of The Simpsons which shows a grieving Homer zipping through the so-called "five stages of grief" – in five seconds or less. When news of his impending death (the result of having ingested some toxic Blowfish) hits home, Homer is “comforted” with an introduction to the grief process, courtesy of the laconic family doctor, Dr. Hibbert. He tells Homer, “A little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.” To which Homer quickly replies: “No way! Because I'm not dying!” The four remaining “stages” (with “depression” being replaced by “fear”) unfold in similar fashion:

Dr. Hibbert: The second [stage] is anger.
Homer: Why you little...!
Dr. Hibbert: After that comes fear.
Homer: What's after fear? What's after fear?!
Dr. Hibbert: Bargaining.
Homer: Doc, you gotta get me out of this! I'll make it worth your while!
Dr. Hibbert: Finally, acceptance.
Homer: Well, we all gotta go sometime.
Dr. Hibbert: Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me!

We laugh, but while Elizabeth Kubler-Ross never intended for her classic “five stages of grief” to suggest a uniformly linear, progressive experience, unfortunately the language of “stages” has produced a widespread culture of assumption that this is the preferred way to “systematically” move the grieving person along toward healing. But as anyone who has suffered a significant loss will tell you, grief is rarely orderly or predictable. On the contrary, each person’s experience of grief is uniquely their own: everyone knows “his own pain,” as the ancient wisdom book Proverbs says.

Further, the historic, Christian Faith actually provides the possibility of a more hopeful, less messy experience of grief by providing a strong Redeemer and Comforter – a living Person who calls Himself “The Way, Truth, and Life” – and who enters our world to transform it, by “bearing our griefs and sorrows” (Isaiah 53). His wrestling with suffering, and the looming shadow of the cross is followed by a triumphal resurrection - the source of our hope.

All of this - and His promise to begin renewing all things right now (especially our hearts of stone), as well as a future new creation where death is finally and completely removed, changes everything. No longer do those who look to him need to sorrow “as those who have no hope” (I Thess. 4:13).

Rethinking the Stages
Consider how the classic first stage, “denial,” is transformed. As counselor David Powlison notes, Christ shatters our tendency to drift into denial of loss by actually transforming our dynamic internal trust - our heart’s tendency to put ultimate trust in a person or thing, which we will one day lose - by placing ultimate trust in a strong and loving God.

This re-directed worship (from self to God), as C.S. Lewis points out, also produces a beautiful result right now: it actually elevates our love for that person, as they are no longer placed in a position above God as a kind of “functional savior,” existing primarily to serve us and meet all our deepest needs (a position they were never intended to occupy in the first place). Instead, the person connected to our loss is seen in a whole new light - as a gift for us to love and serve and thank God for - for however long we are given, and also to grieve for the real person and precious gift they were when gone.

Similarly, the “anger stage” can also be transformed. The “shaking our fist at the heavens” response can give way to an honest questioning of God’s mysterious ways, and a deeper, cleaner, and more profound experience of the pain. (See the Psalms, which demonstrate an honest questioning of God within the context of His loving relationship with us and enduring promise to work out all things – even losses – for our good.) In addition, depression and bargaining also begin to be transformed, as our self-referential focus gives way to a focus on a God of grace and hope who promises to one day restore all our losses.

With this foundational re-connection to our Creator through Christ, consider how the following seven myths are exploded and given a whole new trajectory:

Myth #1: “If I talk about my loss, I’ll feel worse…”
You can’t heal unless you experience and work through your feelings of loss. When churches offer grief support groups for their members and the community, they encourage an authenticity and kinship in the mourning process that is unashamed to speak of brokenness. Hope in Christ actually fuels authenticity and the courage to share and help support others, even as we are being supported. We've been personally privileged to run a group we called Bayith Ebel (Hebrew for “House of Mourning” from Eccles. 7:2), and it was a rich experience of exploration, tears, and joy, as we learned to take seriously Jesus’ call to “weep with those who weep.”

Myth#2:
“If I’m sad and struggling with grief I must be a “loser-Christian.”
Shouldn’t Christians be “always rejoicing?” Counselor and author Paul Tripp says it well: “In times of grief Christians should be sadder than anyone else because we know something of how good life was meant to be, yet more hopeful than anyone because of what the cross and resurrection mean.”

Myth #3: “By staying busy or medicating myself I can eventually eliminate my grief…”
God has designed us to be responders (not stuffers) to joy and tragedy, love and loss. For this reason, grief doesn’t disappear, it simply goes underground temporarily and waits to be expressed. After all the attempts to escape feeling the pain (excessive busyness, taking mood-altering drugs, over-eating, or escapist behavior), you will start grieving where you left off. There are no short-cuts. Pain simply doesn’t get better by being ignored.

Myth#4: “In order to process my grief effectively I need to advance through the five stages of grief” (shock or denial; anger; depression; bargaining; acceptance).
As this article has already pointed out, the term “stages” is misleading. The Gospel (good news) of Christ’s forgiveness and formation of a new family in him leads to a better way of grieving with hope.

Myth #5: ”Tears are a sign of weakness. I must make sure I don’t grieve for too long. One year is surely enough?”
Tears actually have God’s approval – they release pain and signal a need to be comforted. “For the LORD has heard my weeping” (Ps. 6:8). Jesus wept deeply and openly over the brokenness he encountered, even though he was about to transform it forever.

Myth #6: “My goal should be to “get over” my grief.”
Hear the words of Gerald Sittser, who saw three generations of his family die at once in a tragic car crash – his mother, wife and daughter: “I did not “get over my loved ones;” rather, I absorbed the loss into my life until it became part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it…One learns the pain of others by suffering one’s own pain…by finding one’s own soul. However painful, sorrow is good for the soul…the soul is elastic, like a balloon. It can grow larger through suffering.”

Myth #7: “God’s forgiveness is not enough. If I feel bad long enough I will pay for what I have lost.”
Do we ever feel this? If so, we need to hear the word of assurance from Christ’s own mouth, as he hung on the cross – “it is finished!” This not only deals with all our guilt (if we were directly involved with the loss – ie,, abortion, gossip, etc.) – and is the only thing that really does - but also transforms our guilt feelings, which often mislead us to think that our goodness or worthiness could actually eliminate suffering. Yet suffering has a far deeper meaning and purpose for the believer in Jesus, just as it did for Christ himself.

In conclusion, we see that the better questions to ask ourselves, rather than “Am I progressing though the five stages of grief?” are the ones that lead us to a Person, Christ. “In the face of my loss, do I really believe he is good, has personally identified with my loss, and has loved me unbelievably well in the cross?” “Am I moving toward hope (in Him), or deeper despair?” “Am I in a community of hope where wrestling with God can take place, without judgment or condemnation (even as the Psalmist experienced)?” These are Scripture’s questions when it comes to grief, and they are questions couched in grace and meant to move you toward Love (a Person inhabiting real people) – no matter how long it takes.

He Got His Hands Dirty

My forehead feels warm. I haven’t slept well in days. Swine flu fever or not, something’s going on with me. So yesterday at my wife’s urging, I spent sixty bucks on tissues, masks, disinfectant wipes, and alcohol gel. Cleaned out the CVS. (You know, you just never can wash those hands enough.) And with all my compulsive scrubbing, pretty soon I’ll be back for some lotion to deal with the chapping.

But what about my heart? How do I sterilize it from the fear and anxiety which swirl around it every time I dare pick up the remote, or surf the web for the latest developments? Don’t get me wrong. Whether it’s swine flu or bird flu or some other viral nightmare, there are always reasons for healthy caution. Good hygiene is definitely a blessing, especially to all those around you. I’m not advocating a “stick your head in the sand” naiveté.

But do you know what the most frequent command from God to us in Scripture is? Maybe if you come from a fundamentalist background, you’ll be quick to guess it has something to do with abstaining from sex, or alcohol. (“Holiness by abstaining” is the motto in those camps.) But it’s neither. Nor is it “wash your hands before you eat,” which some religious folks actually tried to pin on Jesus (as if the maker of the universe couldn’t tell when his hands needed cleaning). No, actually the most frequent command from God to his overwhelmed, often-anxiety-filled people is “Fear not.”  

Oh really? Easier said than done! But then it’s usually followed by a very strong reason: “…for I am with you.” Hmmm.

Perhaps it’s because anxiety, worry, and fear gets to us all - a nice 100% infection rate. So what if we viewed these things as a real pandemic? I’m starting to think God does – which is why He wants us to know something about Himself that directly meets us at that fearful place. Something big, to give us hope. To soothe and calm our fears. To counsel us with words from a real Person that actually carry weight when he says “it’s going to be alright.”

You see, the God who sees all things, even your worried heart - actually names Himself “Immanuel,” God with us, for just such a reason. His idea is that if you see who he really is - the God who personally comes down and gets his hands dirty in order to love you - it will in fact make a huge difference at the deepest part of you, your essential core, which is your "heart."  

Used over 960 times in Scripture, "the heart"  (which in the ancient world meant the seat of your intellect, desires, and emotions) is described as the real focus of your out-of-control feelings, and which acts similar to a “spring” from a well, forcing your thoughts and beliefs and cravings up and out into specific behaviors. Biting your nails down to nothing, for example. Worrying about the future. Anxiously living for other’s approval, and fearing their rejection. In short, living as if the world is somehow in your control.

If this is true, then what your heart (and mine) needs most are solid reasons for hope – a vaccine that can actually kill the monster of fear (who lives in the closet of your heart) and who threatens to win the day. When we admit that the real problem is we’ve let the monster grow big, and his gaping mouth overwhelms us to the point that we give in to it, saying “you are in control…have your way and just swallow me up,” we need to stop and name the real problem. It’s time for our allegiances to change. And when we see that, we're invited to a better, more hopeful Master and Friend – One who rules wisely, and in love. One who comes to us personally even now, by His Spirit, as "the Comforter" and says, "don't be afraid. I'm here."  

Counseling the fears in our hearts means we name the pretenders. The real God is not the mutating viruses or mucous-spraying coughers who just can’t seem to cover their mouths. Not the CDC or WHO. Rather, it’s the One who rules over all, and so is able to tell us:

God is [your] refuge and strength – an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore [you] will not fear, though the earth gives way, and the mountains fall into the sea… (Psalm 46).

What If I really believed that this is true – that God is my only refuge - even when the mountains are falling? Isn't this the issue -what to do about my trust (faith) problem? Thankfully, the God who gives such a command to “fear not” isn’t into flimsy hopes or inadequate diagnosis, such as pinning the sole reason for your fears on your circumstances (earthquakes, tsunamis, or global pandemics) or your non-nurturing upbringing. Those things matter, certainly, but there is a more central focus, and it’s your heart’s functional trust.

The real remedy for my heart's fears consists in this: tell me again how BIG God is. Tell me again the story of how he walks into the middle of fearful situations, cataloged again and again in Scripture, to calm his loved one’s fears. Tell me again how He describes and shows Himself as Rescuer, Redeemer, Provider, and Friend of untrusting, self-reliant sinners. Tell me the message of GRACE, which he shows to the undeserving, who don’t take him at his word.  

"Faith comes by hearing the Word of Christ," (Rom. 10:17)... so give me a vision of how he got his hands dirty, and even nail-pierced for me, to win me a future. And let me see that believing these things really does produce a community of lovers who aren’t paralyzed by fear, but come out of themselves to love.

Now, when God walks into the room as your loving Father, this is what he wants to know – “What are you really afraid of?” As he asks, you will either shrink in horror at your infected heart, and run away to hide in order to fix it yourself (as Adam & Eve in the garden, and all of us still tend to do), or throw yourself at his feet and weep. And if you do the latter, he’ll lift your trembling chin with his gentle hand, look you in the eyes, and say,”fear not, for I am with you.”

The Shadow of Your Past

It's a strange thing, this wishing life had turned out differently. Call it regret, or hind-sight, but it brings up the age-old question associated with Groundhog Day (more the movie than the furry little shadow-watcher from Punxsutawney), and it goes like this: If you could go back and change something in your past, would you do it?

The question is especially on the minds of watchers of LOST, returning tonight for its long-anticipated final season! Will Jack's plan to explode the bomb (in the past) actually prevent their plane from crashing (in the future?) If so, will they avoid all the pain - and also the healing - that seems to occur on that mysterious island? Stay tuned!

But enough about Jack and Kate, how about you? Wouldn't you take the opportunity to right (or avoid altogether) a regretful wrong, or take back some nasty words that should never have been said? Wouldn't you have loved your friends and family better, been more careful and thoughtful, and "seized the day" or moment that is now gone forever? The quick and easy answer is, "Of course I would!"

The Darker Side 
Of course there is a more sinister side to the question about changing the past, one that calls all our altruistic motives into question. That side goes like this: If you knew the past and could really go back to change it, wouldn't you make things tilt to your own advantage? Like weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) in the 1993 Groundhog Day movie, would you try to make yourself richer (after all, you'd know the stock market and Super Bowl results ahead of time!), attempt to manipulate people into falling in love with you - in short, exploit your unhappy past situations so they now went nicely in your favor?

It's a fascinating question. Knowing human nature, the latter is more likely to be true. But stop and think about it. Maybe the answer about what to do shouldn't be so automatic! (LOST sure hasn't made it easy, and that's why we like it!) Ponder after all, all the lessons you've learned from your screw-ups, mistakes, and sins. Painful to be sure, but wasn't it the fact that you were brought to the very end of yourself in those moments that you began, by grace, to look up? (Think of the prodigal in the Pig-sty. Haven't we've all been there, trapped in the mud of our messes?).  And haven't you learned to love better by failing miserably at it before? (Hopefully you'll say Yes!)

Now, if you agree that you have learned from those things, and become a more humble, loving person through them, wouldn't you also have to say the same about those things done to you, by others? (This one's a bit more dicey). In other words, couldn't you say that you have actually been changed somehow for the better as a result of wrongs committed against you? Is such a thing even possible?

We don't ever want to minimize painful abuse, or act as if we should go after it somehow in order to be better persons. Never should we invite the ugly ravages of sin in an effort to see grace, (Romans 6:1), although we should invite sinners to the table to taste it - as Jesus invites us. The two aren't exactly the same.

Redeemer of Broken Pasts 
But maybe you haven't seen the positive results from your past yet - and in fact, you want to scream right now that I would even say such a thing. I understand, believe me I do. But I would like to suggest something about Someone else's past that might give you hope.

The question about the past takes on a whole new meaning when we study and examine the cross on which Jesus hung. Ask yourself, Was he wronged? In one sense, incredibly so! As the perfect Son of God and lover of men, he deserved none of the abuse he received (and yes, even sexual abuse was there too, as he hung naked before the eyes of his abusers). But in another sense, No! Because he had actually "become sin for us" (2 Cor. 5:21) and was dying in our place as a real criminal, he actually deserved everything he got.  Its what made the transaction real - and effective.

Because Jesus did receive our wounds, and died our death, the world was saved. So the question becomes, Would you really want to change that about his abusive past? (Remember how the urge to have Jesus avoid the cross was especially strong in Peter... and Jesus rebuked him for thinking like Satan.)

The point is this: only Jesus can take the worst day of history (and it was - we killed God that day) and amazingly twist and shape it into the best day of history. Now here's more good news: He did it once, so that He can do the same for your worst days. Though you cannot fathom it, (and pray for faith to believe it), God especially targets your ugliest, most painful days to bring out the best. In so doing, He actually changes you. Cracks open the hardness and pride and makes you a more forgiving person. Dissolves the self-interest to make you (and those around you) more compassionate. Stretches you to be more in tune with the sufferings of Christ.  And all of those are no small things.

And think about this: if God is perfectly wise, and also perfectly good, don't you think if it were possible to use any other way to change you and also bring good to others, he would? Don't you think he would have spared his Son that He so loves?

"And we know that in all things (yes, even our shameful pasts) God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

Understand that His purpose - in every sad and broken moment - is to do you good, and he's not ashamed (actually, He desires) to even use the hard parts of your past to do it. So open those hidden places up to him. Watch His gracious touch begin to work its healing way with you. And as you watch, don't forget to also notice the indelible nail scars, still on his hands - for your own name is engraved there too (Isaiah 49:16).  It's His past alone that makes sense out of yours - and your present.

What Does Jason Bourne Want?

Friday night is our family-movie night, and its no mystery - I know what I want. When I settle in with the family to enjoy some spicey, hot pizza and chilled Karl Strauss, and am transported into the lightning-quick world of the Bourne films, I'm looking for some good spy-movie fun. (Read CS Lewis on stories if you think sheer enjoyment and fun aren't lofty goals!)
 
And with Bourne, I'm not disappointed. After all, this trilogy of creative spy films adapted from writer Robert Ludlum's popular spy novels are innovatively shot, cinematic pieces of pure adrenaline. At times you really do feel -as director Paul Greengrass put it- that you're "dancing on the edge of a cliff." 

When Jason (played by Matt Damon) jumps off a balcony, or runs through a crowded European alley, or drives his Mini against traffic, you're right there beside him holding your breath all the way! (This is really the result of some great hand-held camera work by a group of talented directors and  cinematographers.) It's also great fun hearing my family scream!

But what also keeps our attention in the Bourne films, along with the outrageously slick fight scenes and Bourne's uncanny ability to stay one-step-ahead of his pursuers, is that he's actually on a very human mission - a journey, if you will, to find out who he really is. Despite the fact that he has amnesia blocking his deeper, more intense memories, and more passports and fake id's than any agent could ever need, we can't help but get caught up in his real quest: will he ever learn his true identity?

Our Story
That's the stuff of a great story. We resonate with it immediately, because essentially, this deeper story-line is our story too! We too long to find out who we really are, and what our true name is. (This mystery will one day be revealed to each of us individually by Jesus, written on a "white stone" that He will give us (see Rev. 2:17). Now that's true drama!)
   
Like many "amnesia films," the Bourne films pulsate with the fundamental need for a "clean slate" - the desire to face up to and expunge the sins of one's past. ("Regarding Henry," a note-worthy film from the 90's, also has this theme. Like Bourne, it also demonstrates how significant trauma is usually the first stroke in Redemption's plan.) 

Now sure, Jason is clever - unbelievably so, and relentless. The problem is, the more he discovers about his "true self," the worse he feels: "I don't want to know anymore...everything I found out I want to forget," he says. Can we relate?

In this sense, the Bourne books and films are gifts from God. Yes, that's right, I did say that.  God's common grace and creativity are on display, uniquely revealed in the artistry of the writers, actors, camera guys, and a host of creative talent listed in the end-credits. Does that go without saying?  (There may be some readers of this essay who can benefit from pondering that fact.  We Christians tend to jump right into criticism without first showing our appreciation for God's image reflected even in the works of talented non-Christians. Our cultural engagement would be greatly enhanced if we first learned to admire and appreciate how creative artists reflect their Creator- perhaps without their even knowing.)

But there are even more gifts in store, for these stories also take us around God's world, enlarging our vision with varied and beautiful backdrops of European grandeur, shot at times in almost documentary-like fashion. This is intentional, for the directors confess they wish to accentuate Jason's roaming sense of alienation. Once again, Truth comes through: despite the many canals and corridors, there is no place to hide from the past.

Looking For Our True Name 
And so this insatiable desire for something better drives Jason Bourne on. Like the prodigal in the pig-sty,  it all begins when he starts to "come  to," after being spotted floating face down in the sea. He is, as they say, as good as dead. The same is true of us of course. We too have been issued our last rites; dead to God and His Way, Truth, and Life, and so our given purpose and true name eludes us.  And like the prodigal,  we called our Father a dead-man, took his money, and ran. In so doing, we cut our own family-ties while Satan shot us in the back.

But as Jason's "real identity" begins to surface,  the bitter truth that he has actually chosen evil (with some brain-washing help from Treadstone, the secret CIA organization bent on its own autonomy) begins to gnaw, and at a place so deep even he can't escape, for it resides within his own soul.  Even when he seems at his best (and we long to go there with him), desperately seeking to convince his girlfriend Marie that "I'm just trying to do the right thing," it is Marie who brings him -and us- back to reality: "Nobody does the right thing," she says. 
 
The Father's Love
It's a sober reminder: an honest view of our true selves ("glorious ruins" as Francis Schaeffer called us) always precedes our appreciation of the Father's gracious rescue and adoption in love. Our new identity as adopted,  loved children of God is bestowed upon us, but we are brain-washed into being orphan-children. Not to mention that our need for control ever demands it. And so we run.
 
Then, like modern-day Jonahs thrown overboard,  sea-weed wrapped around our heads and sinking ever deeper, Grace came and swallowed us in the deep. Once safely inside the "great fish", yet still choking and sputtering for air, all we could say was "Salvation comes from the Lord!" ( Jonah 2:9).

So what if our identity truly did rest purely in what God has done - not our ability to redeem the past ourselves. What if we became different - not in name only, but by actually breathing the free air of grace and full acceptance in Christ - and so truly began to find ourselves? The secret is that this only comes  - not by morbid introspection, or willing ourselves to change, or even atoning or doing penance for our pasts - but by actually abandoning self and turning outward to Christ!
 
What about haunting memories? These too begin to be transformed, as counselor David Powlison says, when Biblical truth (specifically the love God brings to our hearts through the Gospel) "becomes more loud and vivid than previous life experience...[when we] have ears to hear and eyes to see what God tells us about himself." Our pasts can actually become "trophies of grace," just as it was for Paul (I Cor. 15:9, I Tim.1).

New Memories
Is memory-transformation really possible? Not if we choose to dull the pain, mask it over with drugs or excessive alcohol, or even try to deny bad memories exist at all while adopting "good behavior." Many Christians try these things because the pain gets so bad, and their "bad name" always seems to trump all other realities. To his credit,  Jason Bourne actually wants to remember (despite what he said in despair) so that he can see things put to right.

We need not be hostages to our pasts. If we were hurt by others, we can cling to Joseph's words, voiced when he faced his treacherous brothers: "you intended this for evil, but God intended it for good...for the saving of many lives (Gen.50:20)." Is this not also the supreme message of the cross? If our sins- black as they may be (is there any sin blacker than being responsible for the death of Jesus? All of us are!)- continue to dog our present steps, we need not deny or repress them. We can begin to have a new perspective on them, seeing our pasts as God does: "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free!" (Gal.5:1)
 
This calls for re-interpreting our memories. Listen how Paul does it: 

"...Even though I was once a blasphemer and persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief....(Note: Paul is not saying he's innocent. He willingly chose his ignorance and unbelief!). ..but for this very reason, I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him (that means, you and I) and receive eternal life (I Tim. 1:12-ff)."

Paul, as one writer notes, presents "a gospel interpretation of his past." In so doing, grace shines all the brighter.

Remembering also allows us to seek restitution where it may be needed.   Humble confessions are often used by God to soften other's hard hearts. Or, it may keep us from future sins of the same kind, so that we do not become "the dog who returns to his vomit (Prov. 26:11)." Present joy -as we learn to bask in the sunlight of God's justifying grace and love- need not be at odds with past shame (see Ezekiel 16:60-63). In fact, it actually allows it, as we see our pasts clearly for what they really were.
  
The present truth that we are "new creations in Christ" spells a glorious new identity, the kind Jason can only long for. We need not be bound up or even controlled by the script written in our past.  When painful thoughts come, they need not destroy us. We can learn from them, and glory in the fact that all is completely forgiven, and viewed by God, as Sinclair Ferguson says, as "Christ's own past." The prodigal is now a son, and is called to the celebration. The Father wants to party!  Rejoice! Our Redeemer is indeed bigger than our pasts.

Finally, this means that our identity, as well as our present and future hope, lies not in focusing on a technique, but a person. That person went on the ultimate mission, to defeat sin, death,  Satan, and hell. He is the glorious Redeemer who took the bullet for us, He is Jesus, and He will have the true supremacy. Bow in humble thanks, and then go ahead and enjoy your pizza - and all God's good gifts.