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.

A Conversation with Harry

As "Deathly Hallows, Part 2" hits the theaters and the Harry Potter film series draws to a close, we're privileged to have Harry drop by the counseling office for an informal chat...

   

ST: Harry, it's been a real pleasure. You've heard this before I'm sure, but I feel like my children have grown up with you!

HP: Sweet - yes, I think I may know your children! Weren't they desperate to enroll in Hogwarts?

ST: Absolutely! I still have vivid memories of them, curled up beside their mom while reading your adventures aloud; chomping at the bit for the next movie - not to mention wearing your robes and glasses at Halloween ... that's good times for a kid.

HP: Ahh - to be a Halloween character for millions of kids. One never imagines such a thing! Unless you're Voldemort, I suppose (laughs).

ST: The "one who must not be named?" Glad you mentioned him! He and this whole wizardry thing - they've sort of been like the "big elephant in the room" for some Christians, haven't they? They just can't think of anything else.

HP: Isn't that a bloody shame? They certainly don't understand the power of fairy tales the way C.S. Lewis did - or J.K. Rowling. Lewis really believed that fairy tales could reveal the magical wonder of the natural world. Ordinary woods can become enchanted ... because they are. So fairy tales actually serve to remind us, as G.K. Chesterton said, that "our own world is just as much a fantastic creation as any that the most imaginative fantasy writer can devise."

ST: Amazing. And the last time I checked, the Bible itself contains stories of giants, and dragons, and vivid depictions of great battles against evil...(see Rev. 12)

HP: Spot on. Yes, the richness of the Potter stories is that they're essentially epic tales of good fighting against evil - all in a fantastical imaginary school-setting where stair-cases move, pictures on the walls are alive, and magic happens at the wave of a wand. What child wouldn't want to do school that way?!

ST: Right, and what kid hasn't pretended they could do things like ride on the back of a dragon, play with giants, and most especially, fly? Then throw in a wise, grey-bearded headmaster by the name of Dumbledore, a lovable giant-protector in Hagrid, and the sweetness of 2 close friends, Ron and Hermione (who along with you, face real struggles as they grow), and it's a great combination.

HP: Ahh, all my dear friends. Nothing like a friend to love us when we're down, huh?

ST: Indeed...you've been blessed. So tell us what you've come to understand about yourself. You did have a bit of an identity crisis growing up, didn't you?

HP: Yes, thanks to J.K. Rowling, I'm your classic "wounded hero" who is born right in the middle of a struggle against evil. Lord Voldemort, like Lucifer, is a defector from the ranks and "a murderer from the beginning" -  killing my parents when I was a baby - and then coming after me. 

ST: Sort of like how the Evil One tried to snuff out the promised Messiah through king Herod. Nasty stuff.

HP: Exactly - but then I also grow up to save mankind in the end! If you stop and look at all I've endured, I'm really a classic literary Christ-figure -

ST: ...he said modestly...

HP: (laughs) of course....growing up in humble circumstances,  making friends - but also dealing with the rejection of community - and later, willing to die to save the world. Come to think of it, I even retain my "scars" as proof (laughs).

ST: Excellent! Wow, you've really tuned in to this character. But are we stretching it to say that J.K. Rowling, your creator, was influenced by these Christian themes?

HP: Well, I'm not saying that J.K. set out to write a specifically "Christian" allegory, any more than Tolkien did when he wrote The Lord of the Rings - but as Tolkien said, the themes just made their way into his writing - themes of sacrifice, the perennial struggle to resist power, and enduring love.

ST: And you think that may be the same with J.K.?

HP: It's interesting, but in the Potter series I think there's even one place where she "tips her hand," so to speak. It comes in the "Deathly Hallows," Chapter 16: Godric's Hollow, when she has me visit my parent's graves. On their tombstone I read the quote,

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

And on another tombstone (belonging to Dumbledore's mother, and his sister) Hermione sees this:

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

ST: Fascinating, I love those verses. So Scripture even exists in Harry Potter's world.

HP: It seems so.

ST: So tell me, what else can we learn about life from these stories?

HP: Well, one thing I would say is the sheer power of imagination. (Do Christians have this in their experience anymore?) If you'll permit me a long quote, I love what Thomas Williams writes:

"Our problem is that – in Harry Potter terms – we have become “muggles” – mundane creatures unappreciative of and denying the power of anything we cannot see, hear, feel, taste, or touch…we reject the magical, romantic view of reality as head-in-the-clouds fantasy. We smile indulgently at teen crushes that send young people swooning and dreaming of that one face that entrances all the senses. We warn about-to-be-marrieds not to expect the euphoria of palpitating romance to last. Romance is an illusion caused by stars in the eyes. We tell couples to expect the romance to fade and warn them to steel themselves for the long haul, every-day chore of making a marriage work. Work is the key, not romance. Not joy…

Not so. In the play as God originally wrote it, the euphoria and tingling romance were intended to last. Wonder and delight are essential ingredients of reality, deeply embedded beneath the canker and rust that has marred the world since creation. Beneath the crust of decay, immense glory resides latent in every created thing. That beauty is still visible to any eyes that can be opened to see it." (Williams, The Heart of the Chronicles of Narnia)

ST: That's awesome. You memorized the whole thing...

HP: I'm a wizard...

ST: Of course. Your quote also reminds me of Chesterton saying that joy is the "gigantic secret" of the Christian. When you come to understand that even the "trees of the field" are called on to clap their hands at Christ's victory, you begin to see real enchantment. It's like the beginnings of a universal explosion of joy:  

"Sing for joy, O heavens, for the LORD has done this; shout aloud, O earth beneath. Burst into song, you mountains, you forests and all your trees, for the LORD has redeemed Jacob, he displays his glory in Israel." Isaiah 44:23

...Doesn't that fire the imagination? And one day, when the thorn tree has been replaced by the pine (Isaiah 55:13), the trees will rise to a standing ovation, when the King returns.

HP: No more Whomping Willow? That sounds good! And I was just reading your author - what's his name - Eugene Peterson, I think, talking about the cultivation of wonder. He says we had it when we were kids, but we lose it when we attempt to gain mastery over our lives, our workplaces, etc. Without wonder, he says, we turn life into a self-help project. (See Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places)

ST: Man, you are deep.

HP: (Smiles) You flatter me. Oh, and I must also mention one more thing about the climax of our story. Keep an eye on Neville Longbottom - he's really a key to the whole thing. Like Frodo Baggins in that other story, he exemplifies that true heroes are not really the strong and powerful who seem to triumph in their pride...

ST: You mean it's something like "God uses the weak things of this world to shame the strong?" (I Cor.1:27)

HP: Yep, something like that...

ST: Beautiful. Well, Harry, it's been so much fun. Thanks for coming in for counseling...and for counseling us!

HP: Anything for my "recovering muggle" friends (smiles). Keep reading, and enjoy!