The Not-So-Thin Thread of Thankfulness

It was just the other day when I caught a glimpse of it, in that still moment of reflection when someone asked, just before the turkey and sweet potato casserole, “So, what are you thankful for?” Truth be told, at the moment of hunger? Not so thankful for questions about thankfulness!

But it is good to be slowed down ... I am too often in a hurry. Taste your food, and savor it. Make more room for these "Consider the lilies" moments. And so I do...

And soon, thankful thoughts begin to race like wildfire. Faces appear, some right in front of me, others from the not-so-distant past – both smiling, and weeping. It is a privilege that I am here at all, I think; to experience this life of joys and sorrows - it is a gift. That too, is grace.

Now as I sit here, days from Thanksgiving, typing thoughts and words and dreams with the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s What Child is This? keeping time with my tapping, I consider, How strange that that one small question about thankfulness can bring a sense that, in gratitude, I am “getting warmer, warmer,” like the children’s game when you’re closing in on the hidden prize. It’s so easy to be in a hurry; add to that, to become jaded about this life, and revert to the status-quo of criticism and the pretended wisdom of the cynic ... it all thwarts this desired gratitude.

Thankfully, a Christmas carol jolts me back to the warmer place, leaving behind the “always winter, but never Christmas” hopelessness that Lewis described. Ahh, there it is again - Christmas working backwards, to put the real thanks into “Thanks-giving.”

Surprised by Gratitude

But of course, it makes no sense at all to be thankful if you’ve been operating from the assumption (maybe even the desired belief) that there really is no one there to say thanks to, right? I remember hearing how the great writer G.K. Chesterton was surprised by this fact, and at a moment in his life when faith still eluded him…

As the story goes, while out strolling one day, he “happened upon” two aspiring artists on the river bank, poised at their easels. Brushes in hand, they attempted to capture the serene beauty of the landscape – for it was a stunningly beautiful day. Pausing to watch them paint, Chesterton could not help notice how their conversation seemed strangely out-of-place, for despite the overwhelming beauty before them, they were filled with complaining. Oddly, and in marked contrast, he found his own heart wanting to say “thank-you” to someone. Beauty, after all, had smote his heart, and it must be acknowledged. But where was this strange sense of gratitude coming from, he wondered? And to whom could it possibly be directed? Chesterton would later say that from that moment onward, he began to hold on to faith by “the thin thread of thankfulness.”

Ann's Story

For years, Ann Voskamp struggled to see any reason for thankfulness at all. At 4 years of age (her earliest memory), she watched as her 18 month-old sister Aimee, the little sister with the silken hair, was crushed in their driveway by a farm truck. Her mother saw it too, watching in helpless horror from the kitchen window. Later, Ann observed how a cloud of despair set in upon her and her family, a winter chill that would not depart. From that moment, her father abandoned faith. And by the time she was in college, Ann was on anti-depressants and suffered with a fear of almost everything (agoraphobia).

It’s painful for me to write these things. I’m reminded of my own family’s suffering - my sister’s ongoing struggle to live life in a wheelchair after a car accident at 17, and dad's cancer. How do you take a risk on love again when you’ve been cut so deeply? And just how do you unclench your fists and open your heart to even the possibility of God – let along a good God who doesn’t deal in cruel jokes and seemingly senseless pain – when you've experienced such great losses? What is God up to?

Love will avoid the easy answers, the “buck up and bear it” or “God works all things for good” response that attempts to make it all go away (so we don’t have to feel it), or explain it with a self-righteous platitude. No, let mystery be mystery, and learn to weep with those who weep is the first order of business.

But there is more. One of the profound things such pain produced in Ann Voskamp’s life was to one day awaken her heart to the suggestion and challenge of a friend: create a list of 1,000 things you are thankful for. In starting, Ann realized something vital: If I am to really do this, I must begin with “the little gifts” of each day. The colors in a soap bubble as she washed the dishes. Children building a snow-fort, making a door in the side. The falling of leaves from an oak. New toothbrushes. Nylons without runs.… (I will leave the rest of the list for you to read and discover yourself! Put her book One Thousand Gifts on your Christmas wish-list. You'll be thankful you did!)

How Gratitude Can Change Us

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.~  Sarah Ban Breathnach

Gratitude is the natural response when we begin to understand grace. And while on some days it seems so impossible to find, it has a way of transforming us as we follow it back to a loving God's hand. As Ann writes, 

I know there is poor and hideous suffering, and I’ve seen the hungry and the guns that go to war. I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks for early light dappled through leaves and the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives. Why would the world need more anger, more outrage? How does it save the world to reject unabashed joy ,when it is joy that saves us? Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. 

The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest light to the world. When we lay the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places, let joy soak into our broken skin and deep crevices, life grows. How can this not be the best thing for the world? For us? The clouds open when we mouth thanks.”

What is this dare to write down a thousand "thank-yous?" Try it - start with just ten or twenty - and you will see what Ann herself discovered about our hearts: “Something always comes to fill the empty places. And when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me…” What then is the real beauty behind the list? “It is really a dare to name all the ways that God loves me…” To bow before His wisdom, and to see who He really is. All that He has done, and has promised. And all because a greater gift has been given...

“On the night he was betrayed,  the Lord Jesus took some bread… and giving thanks, He broke it and said, “This is my body, which is given for you ..
~ I Corinthians 11:23,24

A Scandalous Grace

So here’s a bit of good news for the Penn State victimizers: God never said you’ll go to hell for being a child molester - or even an administration or coaching staff that knew, and “should’ve done more.” But more on that in a minute. 

When Penn State coaching legend Joe Paterno addressed reporters early after the abuse went public, his impulse was to say one thing, at least, of especially great value: “Pray for the victims.” Indeed. Pray for them, for the sting of this victimization will not fade with the camera lights, but will linger. But have you and I asked ourselves what to pray for, specifically? Do we have any sense what the victims will really need in the days and years to come?

Childhood victims of sexual abuse grow up to tell us many things. Here, in the form of a prayer, are some things that they especially struggle to believe:

1.) God, (if You are even there) - it’s so hard to trust now sometimes – you, or anyone. I trusted once and got hurt. Do you love me? Where were you? I felt (and sometimes still feel) so abandoned…  

2.) God, are you good? How can it be? Is the song I learned in Sunday School, “Jesus loves me, this I know…” just a farce?

3.) Does real love even exist? Or is it a lie, and do people just want to use you up and throw you away?

4.) What is my body good for? Is it just certain parts of me that are worth anything? (I hate those parts - they invited pain). I will never let myself be touched again…by anyone.

5.) God, sometimes I also feel such guilt that my body “responded” to the stimulation. And afterwards, I felt so ashamed, I couldn’t speak. How could I possibly tell anyone what happened?

6.) So now you know what I do…I squash my pain again and again with over-eating, or alcohol abuse, or whatever else helps me to “check out” of life and stay numb to the pain. I’ve even thrown myself into elicit sex, and allowed myself to be used again - it’s all I must be good for, right? But I feel nothing, I am a hollow shell…

Our Prayer 

1.) Oh Father, your heart breaks for those who have been victimized by selfish lust. Our hearts break too. 

2.) We must believe You weren’t absent, or caught off-guard, but caught every tear that fell.     Help them to believe this too. Even now You store each tear in your bottle, for they are precious to you (Psalm 56:8) – yet we still sometimes struggle to know why You didn’t intervene to stop it… 

3.) Oh Jesus, you reveal to us the Father’s heart. And we remember that Your name is Immanuel (God with us), who came down to the mess -  to walk in our shoes, to feel our pain, to endure our rejection, and then to die our death. You know abandonment (for we have often abandoned You), you know firsthand the pain of rejection. You even know the shame of being stripped naked before wicked men: “And they stripped Him…” (Matthew 27:28)

And yet because your Father didn’t intervene to stop it, great good came to the world. So too, bring good to the world through this suffering, as you did with Joseph (Gen. 50:20), and ultimately, Jesus.

4.) Merciful God, please begin to show the broken-hearted (for words are not enough) that their bodies are a gift, incredibly good, and were never meant to be treated as an object for someone’s selfish pleasure…

5.) ... and that their body responded as it was designed – for this is how You made it. Surround them too with loving people who will begin to transform the abuser’s touch through the healing touch of real love – the love of Jesus, revealed through them. 

6.) Father, help them to trust your love, which is greater than our darkness; help us all to see it with our own eyes, growing in the world. We pray that our churches will be a safe place of refuge - help us not to be ignorant or silent. Keep us near the cross, where we see that love most. 

7.) Help each of these children to grieve the loss, and to run to You… In the name of Jesus, who has retained His scars even while He waits until the day when He will wipe every tear from our eyes, and put all things to right…

8.) Finally, God, we trust that you will bring about justice for the oppressed – a better justice than we ourselves can muster. We dare, by your grace, to pray for the victimizers also – may their end not be this: 

"But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depths of the sea." (Matthew 18:6)

(And thank-you that you care so much for the victimized to include this verse in Your Word). May the victimizer too find mercy at the foot of the cross - and rise, forgiven, to make real restitution to their victims.

Now, to return to the beginning…

Grace is indeed scandalous to our senses, but oh so humbling. Why must it be so? Because we have all – each one - done the unimaginable: our sin has killed the precious and perfect Son of God. Which means that anything else must pale in comparison…and that is why no child molester will ever be separated from God on the basis of his crimes alone, but for this only: if He (or she) rejects the one rescue that God Himself has provided – Jesus and His cross. Any rejection of that great sacrifice is an attempt to establish one’s own “self salvation project”(see Rom. 10:3) – be it through sex, career, money, personal reform - or even religion. 

As the words of the old hymn put it:

“His blood has made the foulest clean,

His blood availed for me.” (O For A Thousand Tongues to Sing, Charles Wesley)

So it seems that even at Penn State, the field is quite level before the cross. The beauty of a scandalous grace is this: even tainted football fields and locker rooms can be transformed by the touch of Amazing grace.

So now, let us pray…  

What's Love Telling Me to Do Right Now?

If anyone ever answered that question fully, completely, most beautifully, in everything He said and did, it was Jesus. See the way Jesus loves, and you see love elevated to an art-form. See how he answered the question, when gazing at the cross before him ... with thoughts of you. Thank him for such amazing, completely unmerited, love.

Now let yourself ask the question again, and answer with the first person who comes to mind.

  

(PS Sometimes a great question becomes a life-mission. The question jumped out at me the other day while listening to a band my son enjoys (and now I do too), called Baths. Asked in a song called Maximalist)

On the Bench ... (If You Love Someone, Pt. 2)

Perhaps an annoying part of your story at the moment is that God is contradicting your desire to  be “in the game” – whatever that is for you. Maybe you dream of a new job, but the path seems blocked, or even indiscernible. You’d love a relationship to blossom, but it isn’t happening – not even close. Or maybe you just want to be more noticed, or less noticed (is that possible?), or to be ok with not being noticed at all (JD Salinger’s wistful Zooey comes to mind: “I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody!” Great line.). But listen, we need to talk - because I need to hear this too. 

In his excellent book Love Walked Among Us, Paul Miller shares the story of Robertson McQuilkin, who left his university position to take care of his wife, Muriel. Not long after, when a student asked him, “Do you miss being president?” McQuilkin reflected, and “put his wondering into a prayer”:

“Father, I like this assignment, and I have no regrets. But if a coach puts a man on the bench, he must not want him in the game. You needn’t tell me, of course, but I’d like to know – why didn’t you need me in the game?"

I didn’t sleep well that night and awoke contemplating the puzzle. Muriel was still mobile at the time, so we set out on our morning walk around the block. She wasn’t too sure on her feet, so we went slowly and held hands as we always do. This day I heard footsteps behind me and looked back to see the familiar form of a local derelict behind us. He staggered past us, then turned and looked us up and down. “Tha’s good. I likes ‘at” he said. “Tha’s real good. I likes it.” He turned and headed back down the street, mumbling to himself over and over again, “Tha’s good. I like it.”

When Muriel and I reached our little garden and sat down, his words came back to me. Then the realization hit me. God had spoken through an inebriated old derelict. “It is You who are whispering to my spirit, “I likes it, tha’s good,” I said aloud. “I may be on the bench, but if You like it and say it’s good, that’s all that counts.”

Miller reflects on this beautiful episode with some thoughts of his own:

“When McQuilken “heard” God’s voice, he could “rest” in God’s assignment for him. It deepened the meaning of his love for Muriel. Many times people give up on love because they get sick of hearing other people’s voices – their demands. Then they walk away from a relationship and experience an initial freedom in regaining their own “voice...”    

What If…

You may not realize it, but the story of your life and how you love others hangs in the balance with such a move. I like how Tim Keller (of Redeemer, NYC) approaches it:

Think about it. In your relationships with people, what would it be like if you never allowed others to contradict, or correct you? You’d really be a lonely person, wouldn’t you?” (Really, how could you maintain relationships where you have to have the final word on everything?)

Keller goes on to apply the argument to God, saying, when we hear our culture (or our own hearts) say, “I could never believe in a God who would do ------- (fill in the blank with anything we don’t like)”, does it ever occur to us that we aren’t willing to apply to Him the same privilege we grant to others – to contradict us – in order to maintain relationship?

And so because God’s ways aren’t allowed to contradict human reasoning, God is simply rejected out of hand – or at least deemed irrelevant to my current struggle. (Some even bend over backward to “protect” God from unpleasant and devastating things like tornadoes and famine and sexual abuse, contradicting His right to be involved in them … but what if He wasn’t in them? How could the dreadful abuses and wonderful grace of the cross mean anything?)

Your Role of Love

So it appears that often, for the good of “the team,” (or the family, or church, or job), you will sometimes be asked to play a much different role than you think you should – maybe, even a role other than you think you are most gifted for. The team needs a defensive end, but you usually play quarter-back. Theology and teaching is your thing, but the homeless ministry needs your hands. Will you allow your idea of self to be contradicted in that case, for the good of the team?

Now consider Jesus – the Sovereign One – in whom “all things hold together” (Colossians 1:7), and “through whom all things were made” (John 1:3). Which means He’s the Astronomer who keeps beautiful Jupiter hanging in space 390 million miles away, tucked under a dazzling moon (as it was last night). He shapes and holds your blue (or green or brown) eyes and your skin - every molecule – all held together by His powerful word. Shouldn’t He have demanded His rightful place of honor in this world?

“…with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves… Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross…” ~ Phillipians 2

Further, since He is who He is, and has done all that He has done for you, should you get to contradict him about your life plans, or does He contradict you? Is He a person who, as Keller says, you “invite into your life to be your personal assistant,” or, with the whole universe hanging together in Him, does He get to command you? 

Consider what it feels like to be dearly loved and prized by someone who absolutely has your best at heart – because he knows it better than you. Wouldn’t you want to stop and listen to him, to pay him mind? Further, might you even allow yourself to be contradicted, corrected, and convicted by him – because you prize him and love His selfless heart?

Here, as in all good relationships, we find real love loosening our grip on control and our own demand for rightness. But there’s a beautiful result: we ourselves begin to love well.    

So learn of Him, spend time as you would with someone you deeply admire, just observing Him. And as you get to know Him, ask then if it make a difference that it’s Him who “keeps you on the bench.” Or rather, like McQuikin, if He provides you a new bench to sit on, beside one who needs your love…

Note: There’s a name for all this, and it’s called His providence. And actually, it’s very, very good news for the world - and for you. Think of life without it -  a life where we are never contradicted... 

Let all divine restraints be removed and man be left absolutely free, and all ethical distinctions would immediately disappear, the spirit of barbarism would prevail universally, and pandemonium would reign supreme.  ~ A.W. Pink

Thank Him for His powerful and wise ways today.

The End of the World as We Know it: A Conversation with Olivia

We're especially excited to be joined in the counseling office today by Olivia Dunham, Special Agent of the FRINGE division (see her tonight at 9pm on FOX!)        

                                                                                                                

ST: Welcome Olivia, thanks for taking time out from the strange and wonderful world (or  worlds!) of FRINGE to join us. And may I say before we begin, that my wife loves you?

 

OD:  Awww, that’s very kind. Tell her I love her too!

ST: I definitely will. Ok, so for those who may not know, you’re actually an FBI agent in a special “Fringe” division, solving X-Files-like cases every week – and tackling a host of cultural issues while you’re at it. And on top of that, you have a doppelganger (“Bolivia”) in a parallel world – one where the World Trade Centers are still standing, and “Dogs” is playing on Broadway!

  

OD: (laughs) It's been fun to find out that JFK was never shot, and the "Dogs" thing really cracked me up. But in our world, it’s pretty clear that Peter (Bishop) and I aren’t Mulder and Scully. Mulder was just never wrong, you know? And Scully, bless her soul, was almost always missing the mark!

ST: Why do you suppose that was?

OD: I think because she consistently approached things from a purely scientific standpoint – even though it never turned out as she imagined - and life simply can’t be reduced to things we can measure or quantify. For example, do we really understand how the brain works? Or where laughter comes from? So for me, while I’m out trying to help save the world, the question of “Who am I, really – on the inside?” is very present.

  

ST: And this “alternate you” in the parallel universe … is it fair to say that she gives you the opportunity to see yourself as you might have been, or could be?

    

OD: Yes, it’s very weird! Bolivia is certainly less uptight than I am (laughs), but it’s not like she’s my “evil twin”  - it’s not that clean cut, or black and white. She wants love, like all of us. I guess that became clear …

ST: Yes, I’m sorry. But you learned that Peter was really thinking of you all along.

OD: (Smiles) Trust issues, you know?

ST: Well, tell us more about your story (we counselors like to ask, you know!) What were the significant, formative events from your own past?

OD: Are you ready for this? As a little girl (they called me “Olive”), I endured an abusive step-father, and then was used by scientist Walter Bishop and his notorious partner William Bell in their “cortexiphan” experiments. Walter’s need, his controlling passion to open a door to the “other side,” the parallel universe was …

ST: … after his real son Peter died and he was grief-stricken, right?

OD: … Yes, he desperately believed he could find another “Peter” over there to fill the hole in his life, and somehow “cheat death”  - which in a way, he did.

ST: Grief is a powerful thing, isn’t it? And death is more than just a "part of life." There's a reason we call it an "enemy"...it's not the way it was supposed to be.

  

OD: Yes, I think it's more powerful than we know. It sneaks up on us. And Walter believed that using my “psychokinetic ability,” coupled with my feelings of abandonment and this cortexiphan, was the key to finding objects in this parallel world ...

ST: Amazing the lengths we will go ... I'm reminded of that episode awhile back called "Marionette." That Dr. Frankenstein guy was creepy ... but he wanted to master death. 

OD: Yes! So Walter eventually did succeed in going over there and stealing that Peter away from his rightful father (whom we affectionately call “Walternate”). Little did he know that this would start a war between the universes – a kind of cosmic jihad!

     

ST: Wow, that’s a lot! First let me say that I’m truly sorry for all that what was done to you. Abuse for a child is so very, very difficult. You were vulnerable and without protection, and because it came from someone close to you  – as it so often does for children – a family member, neighbor, or even someone at church - the feeling of betrayal is multiplied, isn’t it?

OD: It is … sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t cry.

ST: Well let it go if you’d like – your tears are a gift.

OD: Thanks.

ST: I’m reminded of how the ancient king David cried: “Even my close friend, in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.” (Psalm 49:1) He knew that soul pain, but it turns out the prophecy was also meant for someone else…

OD: Hmmm. Did it involve a doomsday device?

  

ST: (laughs) Actually, just the opposite. Think of what Peter Bishop was willing to do, except in a much deeper sense …

OD: You mean, go to “the machine?”

ST: Yes. Remember when Peter said to you,

“Whatever our fate is, I’m right at the center…I understand what the machine does … I’ve torn holes in both the universes, and they lead here…a bridge, so that we can begin to work together to fix our worlds …”?

 

OD: Of course, I’ll never forget it. Unless Peter never really existed...but that makes no sense!

ST: But what if someone has torn a hole in our universe - in order to enter into our pain and our deepest shame (yours and mine), and to fix our world - one heart at a time?

OD: Well, that would be good news! I’ve tried to carry the weight of the world - or I guess I should say, two worlds - on my shoulders for a long time. It gets unbearable.

ST: It does! If it helps, the cross is Jesus' “machine,” where He sets in motion his redemption process of undeserved grace, to touch the whole universe ... like Lewis talked about the Stone Table in Narnia:

"When a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and death itself would start working backwards..."

OD: I love that story ...

ST: Me too ... and the prophecy also says that because of what happened at the cross, abuse doesn’t have to have the final word in any of our lives. You see, you can have a greater identity than “abuse victim,” because He desires to give you a new name (see Rev. 2:17) ... a new identity that's even better than the parallel universe.

OD: As Spock would say, “fascinating!”

ST: (laughs) Right, I forgot you channeled “Spock”  – or William Bell, didn’t you!

OD: His soul inhabited me for a time, yes. It was a hoot. But thank-you for explaining that about Jesus…it seems much better to be inhabited by His Spirit.

ST: Absolutely... what are you thinking?

OD: About Walter Bishop. He and I seem to be linked in that way - so often operating out of guilt, you know? Like what he prayed in that chapel …

"God, I know my crimes are unforgivable. Punish me, do what you want to me. I beg you, spare our world," 

as he knelt crying before a cross. But then eventually he does come to the place where he’s willing to give up his son to save the world. Even for a guy with half his brain missing, his heart seemed to end up in the right place!

ST: (laughs) I think so. Maybe all the red licorice and strawberry milkshakes have something to do with it.

OD: Well, I'd like to explore this more ... but Broyles is calling.

ST: Ok, cool. One final question: who do you like in the World Series this year – provided the universe survives?

OD: Well, Bolivia likes the Phillies in five. But me, I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing.

ST: (laughs) Thank-you so much Olivia for this time. Like the Observers (are they angels with hats, or what?), we look forward to seeing this all unfold!

OD: No clue what they are. And I’m happy to say the pleasure was all mine! 

Final Note: Facing tragic events in our past can seem a pointless process ... after all, isn't it behind us? But often, we don't take stock of the ways we learned to cope as a result, and the harm we can perpetuate even now (much of which can be worse than the initial abuse). 

The good news is that in Christ, we have new resources to actually face the harm done to us – to call evil what it is – and to refuse to cover it over any longer with busyness or distractions in order to feel better. Then when we are ready to grieve it, and give voice to our pain, we’re ready to embrace our new name...but it’s a process. We’ll still be marked by it, but the end goal is even greater than "recovery." Jesus wants to heal us so we can learn to "comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received (2 Cor. 1:4)." And we can make use of the resources of his family to experience this love, because healing is meant to be a “community project.” You don’t have to go it alone. 

If You Love Someone...

One of the wonderful, unexpected side-effects to love is that you're forced, albeit often kicking and screaming, to confront your own selfishness. Like the Polaroid photo that's shaken while developing (sounds like a song?), expect to have your heart rocked before your love (or lack of it) comes into focus.

It's the relational secret we'd like most to avoid; eHarmony probably won't detect it. Yet its roots are as old as the garden, and just as snakey. What is it? We love to get our own way.

Take marriage, for example - a common counseling scenario. The once-blissful couple has, to use an apt metaphor, let their precious garden fill with weeds, and at some point one or both makes the decision not to get up off the couch (or move from the computer, or say "no" to the million other available distractions and pursuits) and aggressively pull them up. Soon after, because weeds grow like...well, weeds, they're jolted into action by an icy wind; a chilly interaction, a hard stare, or a bitter remark makes one look out the window and notice that the garden is nearly gone.

Ugh ... how quickly is everything that makes love so good and nourishing easily swallowed up by a selfish green weed-monster called "a divided heart." Before you know it you'll be using the "two ships passing in the night" cliché as well. 

 

The Cost

So what to do? How do you love when it gets really hard to engage another and you want to say "enough!" The only way I know that you can possibly do this is to grasp the profound meaning of what love really is; that in essence, as Tim Keller notes in King's Cross, "all life-changing love [the kind that really transforms you] is substitutionary sacrifice." 

Do you struggle with the cross of Christ? Has it been your idea - maybe somewhere in the back of your mind - that the whole story-line involving the cross on which Jesus died is just too much like a blood sacrifice to appease an irritable, blood-thirsty, and capricious god - the kind you might have heard of in primitive religions or read about in the works of Homer? If so, take a look at the cross from a new angle - the angle of relationship as we have been thinking about. Keller notes,

"Think about it. If you love a person whose life is all put together and has no major needs, it costs you nothing. It's delightful. There are probably four or five people like that where you live. You ought to find them and become their friend. But if you ever try to love someone who has needs, someone who is in trouble or who is persecuted or emotionally wounded, it's going to cost you. You can't love them without taking a hit yourself. A transfer of some kind is required, so that somehow their troubles, their problems, transfer to you.

There are a lot of wounded people out there. They are emotionally sinking, they're hurting, and they desperately need to be loved ... The only way they're going to start filling up emotionally is if somebody loves them, and the only way to love them is to let yourself be emotionally drained. Some of your fullness is going to have to go into them, and you have to empty out to some degree. If you hold onto your emotional comfort and simply avoid those people, they will sink. The only way to love them is through substitutionary sacrifice."

Do you see how there is always a cost to the lover? It will inevitably cost you to love someone well, to pour into a spouse, child, hurting friend, or the needy outcast on the street. (Jesus was saying exactly this when he crossed all kinds of ethnic and social boundaries with his "Good Samaritan" parable, see Luke 10:25-37).

This may sound overwhelming, even impossible, and it is - on your own. But when you begin to see this in light of your own selfish heart, you're just starting to tap into the profound power of the cross - that it cost God Himself - and then it becomes especially good news for you:

"God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Rom. 5:8)

You see for those of us addicted to our own way, this comes as especially good news. For if God loved the way we so often do - when people seem deserving enough - we'd all be lost. But He doesn't, thankfully, and so the cross stands forever as the greatest, one-sided gift ever given. Only as you internalize this truth and faith springs up again, are you energized to love, and keep loving when it hurts.  

When the Lily Dies

I love how Keller fleshes this out further, using the character of Lily Potter:

"...When the Voldemort-possessed villain tries to lay hands on Harry, he experiences agonizing pain, and so he is thwarted. Harry later goes to Dumbledore, his mentor, and asks, "Why couldn't he touch me?" Dumbledore replies that "Your mother died to save you ... love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign ... [but] to have been loved so deeply ... will give us some protection forever."

   

Are you willing to see God as a "mother" like this? (See Isa. 66:13, Matt. 23:37) The beauty of submitting yourself to be loved like this by Jesus, to receive life and protection from his death, is that you will begin to change - for love always changes things. Even more wonderful is the fact that it comes to the undeserved, as the Romans verse above shows us. So as selfishness tries to rear its ugly head today, let the words of an old hymn also fill your mind...

When I survey the wondrous cross,

On which the Prince of glory died...

my richest gain, I count but loss,

and pour contempt on all my pride.

As you grasp this, again and again, your love will become more like Jesus, your Rescuer; sacrificial, humble, and less about self (your main problem). You will begin to see the world with new eyes. And one day, when you look out your window, you will even see beautiful fruit growing on the vine.

King's Cross

King's Cross Station in London, more famously known these days as "Platform 9-3/4" for the Hogwarts Express in Harry Potter,* now has a better king for a namesake. Thanks to Tim Keller's new book King's Cross...the Story of the World in the Life of Jesus, the lazy and often rebellious George IV - that most unpopular English monarch during the American Revolution (and for whom the station was later named) - can pass the mantle of honor to a far more glorious King.

The symbolism behind the title is appropriate. For as Potter pictures so well, train stations represent departures to new vistas and experiences, never-before-seen countries, and quite possibly, a whole new perspective on life. Can books do the same? Yes, especially those that so helpfully expound on the life of Jesus and how He loved. Why? Because it's in gazing at Jesus that we are transformed  (see 2 Cor. 3, esp. v.18).

Great for believers and inquiring skeptics alike, King's Cross is essentially a collection of Keller's musings, study, and preaching through the Gospel of Mark at Redeemer Church, NYC. It's also my favorite book of late because it's so good on how Jesus is always going deeper, past the rules and trappings of the "outward appearance" (where we and our culture so often live), to the heart - a vital aspect of counseling. Mark is also the shortest of the Gospels on the life of Jesus, which is especially attractive for a quick-read. Having Keller (who has been called by some "the C.S. Lewis of the twenty-first century") as a guide to understanding what Jesus is up to in some key passages is a great asset.

To whet your appetite, here's a sample "story" about our hearts and Jesus that Keller relates in chapter 3, The Healing. It involves the experience of Cynthia Heimel, a columnist who wrote an article for the Village Voice from which Keller quotes. (Keller is commenting on the healing of the paralyzed man in Mark 2:1-5, and the oft-debated and perplexing question of why Jesus addressed his heart (and greatest need) first:

"Over the years she (Cynthia) had known a number of people who were struggling actors and actresses, working in restaurants and punching tickets at theaters to pay their bills, and then they became famous. When they were struggling like all of us, they said, "If only I could make it in the business, if only I had this or that, I'd be happy." They were like so many other people: stressed, driven, easily upset. But when they actually got the fame they'd been longing for, Heimel said, they became insufferable: unstable, angry, and manic. Not just arrogant, as you might expect-worse than that. They were now unhappier than they used to be. She said,

I pity [celebrities]. No, I do. [Celebrities] were once perfectly pleasant human beings...but now...their wrath is awful....More than any of us, they wanted fame....They worked, they pushed....the morning after....each of them became famous, they wanted to take an overdose....because that giant thing they were striving for, that fame thing that was going to make everything okay, that was going to make their lives bearable, that was going to provide them with personal fulfillment and....happiness, had happened. And nothing changed. They were still them. The disillusionment turned them howling and insufferable.

(Keller continues)..."Then Heimel added a statement that took my breath away: "I think when God wants to play a really rotten practical joke on you, He grants you your deepest wish." You know what Jesus is saying to the paralyzed man? I'm not going to play that rotten joke on you. I'm not going to just heal your body, and let you think you've gotten your deepest wish."
 

If you know the story, Jesus will go on to heal the man (in this case) - but only after telling him "Your sins are forgiven." Would you think this harsh if you were there? Wouldn't you want Jesus to do the obvious, and immediately heal the man who was lowered through a roof (!) to get to Jesus? Jesus is intent on going deeper. It's not that the body doesn't matter - it does, tremendously. The resurrection makes this clear. But Jesus shows the man (and the millions who would read his story through the centuries) that we really don't go deep enough in analyzing our longings, and identifying our greatest need. For to be granted our greatest desire - without Jesus as Savior and King, (whether it be better health, more money, or as with Heimel's celebrity friends, fame) - is to insure that we won't enjoy lasting fulfillment. As Keller says, Jesus loves us too much to play that bad joke.

So let me encourage you to do something really good for your heart. Take one chapter of King's Cross each night, before bed. It may be that you'll find yourself on a train to a whole new world.

*see my August 1, 2011 article A Conversation with Harry

Soul Painter

I have this great idea for a screenplay that I'll write some day, percolating in the back of my mind. It goes like this:

(Cue “Chariots of Fire”- inspired score)  

EARLY MORNING, 1906 INDIA:  A handsome young British soldier sits at a desk. On the stained wooden surface before him, colored inks bottles, pens, and paint brushes lay scattered about. He raises his sparkling eyes, and through tears of joy surveys an explosion of color and shapes dancing outside his window: brilliantly colored blooms of yellow Indian poppies, purple sweet peas, magnificent red poinsettias, and large jacaranda trees – the richly ornamented landscape of Bihar. He ponders how to present a gift worthy of his beautiful bride-to-be, Clara.

In the fertile mind of the groom, the true-life James S. Freemantle, an idea begins to form. He will carefully letter and paint his way through every word and phrase of all 150 Psalms – and he's not even a religious man. He just can’t find better poetry to present his love.

(Cue music change) - This isn’t exactly a 100-yard dash between Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams. Much more like a marathon that will take a lifetime. Years of excursions, in and out of the army, produce more drawings: the Golden Temple of Amritsar, the sea villages and harbors of Turkey; evenings observing spectacular sunsets and bright moon risings. If his drawings are any indication, Freemantle especially enjoys Psalm 19:

“The heavens proclaim the glory of God; the skies display his craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known…God has made a home in the heavens for the sun. It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding…”  (19:1,5)

Perhaps the story of James Freemantle may never grace the silver screen. But the results of his years of passionate work now adorn the pages of a beautiful anthology of The Psalms of David, dedicated to “my beloved Clara.” A published copy now sits upon my nightstand - a gift from our dear friends, Joe and Janelle when we moved away five years ago. And each morning, between the teeth brushing and the coffee pot, I try to take in a new page.  

Miserable Psalms?

I confess, Clara wasn't the only beneficiary. I hadn't always loved the Psalms. As Dan Allender likes to say, our stereotypes and jokes have a way of revealing some "sprinkled contempt.":

“It's just like those miserable psalms, always so depressing..." (God, according to Monthy Python)

 
Hopelessness is depressing - we've all been there. But Freemantle’s story invites us to see more - much more. And when we look, we find the  Psalms to be rich, even over-flowing, in all expressions of the heart - a virtual “emotional outlet” for many a thirsty and joyful soul. From the depressed and lonely traveler who picks up a Gideon’s bible in a hotel room (and finds a kindred spirit in the lamenting psalmist), to the joyful choirs of the redeemed, who have tasted the precious sweet wine of grace (and are thankful to sing of it), the Psalms have it all.   

So think of it this way: if God asked you to paint an expression of your heart right now, with words, what would it look like? Would you default to the standard “I’m fine, we’re all good” that you give your neighbor or co-worker? Or would you see that God actually invites your picture to be real – even messy?

Take your morning’s sin of quarreling with a family member, just before you ran out the door for "more important things." David, the fellow-murderer of Psalm 51, has some words for you: “Have mercy on me O God, according to your unfailing love…”   

Or maybe you feel like you’re the only one in the world with an anxious heart as you ponder the future this afternoon? The Psalmist of 131 can relate, as he reflects on the tender “mothering” of our Father God who quiets us in his arms: “I don’t concern myself with matters too great…I have stilled and quieted myself as a small child on his mother’s lap.”

Or a surprise illness has you turning to the sweet comfort-pictures of Psalm 23 (a psalm for the living in the “shadow of death,” where “goodness and mercy” still pursue us because of a pursuing God). No wonder Calvin calls the Psalter “an anatomy of all parts of the soul.”

A More Glorious One

But as impressive as each Psalm is as a work of art in itself, and as a voice for our full and honest range of emotional expression and confession, the Psalms are aiming at more. And they ultimately do so by focusing our hope, as CS Lewis would say, “further up,” to a mysterious "Suffering Servant" who can relate to our deepest fear:

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Psalm 22:1)

The unfathomable part? This cry of utter dereliction from the cross is His, so that it does not have to be cried by you. And see how that cry is answered with a great word of hope from the Father:

"He has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one; He has not hidden his face from Him but has listened to His cry for help." (22:24) 

Two Psalms later we read again of Him who has climbed the unclimbable mountain for us:

"Open up, ancient gates! Open up, ancient doors, and let the King of glory enter. Who is the King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty; the Lord, invincible in battle." (24: 9)

There is Gospel (good news), entwined like one of Freemantle's flowering vines, all through the Psalms, richly set in poetry and song. The laments are plentiful: I can’t get to God, for I am unworthy, sick, harassed, and helpless. But the hope is overflowing (like the cup of Psalm 23): Christ is my Conquering Warrior, Redeemer, Wonderful Counselor, and Friend, who was forsaken for me. In doing so, He defeated my greatest enemies, sin and death, at the cross. But His Father did not abandon Him to the grave; He was raised, and then He actually leads me in his train of spoils all the way and through the gates to God Himself. 

In this way, the Psalms reveal a God who invites us to pour out our hearts - often best expressed in poetry - for though we are bought, we are still in a battle. But wonderfully, they don't only give us words - they point us to a greater hope outside of ourselves. This hope is powerful, for it connects to Somone greater than me, transforming our culture's tendency toward “self-esteem and me above all things.” As Lewis writes in Mere Christianity:

"Look for yourself and you will find in the long run only find hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ [everywhere, and in the Psalms] and you'll find Him, and with everything else thrown in."

Christ is the true Bridegroom, the Lover of our souls, the Sun around which we were meant to orbit.

James Freemantle finished Psalm 150 in 1934 - the year he died. After a lifetime of beautiful pictures reflecting a glorious God, he penned these final words:

"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord." (150:6)

Here at the end of the Psalms, we see the only fitting response to an Amazing God. Hmmm.... maybe I should write that screenplay after all.