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!

What Kind of Change?

It seems that transformation and "change" is on everyone's mind these days. Just turn on the television for 30 seconds and it hits you: Extreme Makeovers of homes, with fancy new appliances (especially from Sears, you know, the ones that cost as much as your first car); of clothing, on TLC's What Not to Wear ("You will ditch that 90's wardrobe already, like it or not"); even your (OMG!) wrinkled face - (Nip a little here, Tuck a little there, and whatever you do, never, ever tell your age). And we haven't even mentioned the pundits on cable news... 

Or how about those among us still pursuing the "hippie myths of the perfection of nature," as Joel Stein comically described in Time magazine some time ago, with neighborhoods "full of places you can go to detoxify with colonics, get healed with crystals and magnets and buy non-genetically engineered food"? (Feeling blue? Nothing that a good enema and some wheat grass can't remedy! Somebody get me a cheeseburger, please!)

But what if we paused long enough to ask, "Are a new wardrobe, brighter smile, and a cleaner colon - as nice as they may be - really enough? Will a new washer and dryer really bring me lasting fulfillment?" (Maybe this is a better question for someone who actually enjoys laundry? Sorry, the answer is still the same). Or might we actually be longing for an answer that goes much deeper - something closer to the heart - because we keenly feel the truth that Dylan also felt when he sang:

Broken bottles, broken plates,
Broken switches, broken gates,
Broken dishes, broken parts,
Streets are filled with broken hearts...
Broken bodies, broken bones,
Broken voices on broken phones.
Take a deep breath, feels like you're chokin',
Everything is broken.

Can you imagine a sadder scene? With all this brokenness, denial certainly seems a viable option. But then you still have to answer, "if things ain't that broke, why all the desperate fixin' goin' on?" (You'll also have to deal with the loads of empirical evidence from around the globe, presented nightly on the evening news – unless you just decide to switch it off.)

Moral Clean-up?
I find it striking how Jesus, a widely accepted "go-to guy" when it comes to real make-overs, used a vivid dish-washing metaphor to locate the source of real change - and notice, it wasn't a call to go get a Kenmore:

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law… For you are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside you are filthy—full of greed and self-indulgence! You blind Pharisee! First wash the inside of the cup and the dish, and then the outside will become clean, too. Matthew 23:25-26 (NLT)

Strong words, Jesus! Of course the real irony here is, he’s talking to the most outwardly religious, put-together people of the day - the Pharisees - and not the broken prostitutes or openly immoral. (For them, it’s a surprising, transforming message of grace). And notice how he’s directing them to look inside, to their hearts.

It's a sad fact - for all the outward clean-up the moral man does, he cannot escape the fact that he is also selfish and evil (full of greed and self-indulgence). And Jesus knows that just giving an evil person a cleaned-up exterior, or even a set of good rules, is only a set-up for disaster, for he'll inevitably look down on others and pride himself on how good he thinks he really is – just as the Pharisees did, and as we ourselves often do. (American churches and "Christian" Self-help experts take note: the more you lay moral orders or "good principles" on people, without talking about your brokenness and God's grace; the more you emphasize good behavior or conservative politics or even "your best life now!" - rather than the centrality of Christ's work for us - the less you will see real change).

Imagine This...
But now imagine this: say you went with the idea that what you really needed was not another new therapeutic technique (as temporarily helpful as some may be), or a new program to improve yourself by becoming a "better you" (and the versions of this are legion) but actually – as Jesus knew - to come in contact with a real person; someone who would love you so well you would want to change, just because He was so beautiful to be with? And just for the sake of argument, say that person actually specialized in dealing with broken cases (just like yours), because he also had the only remedy for dealing with our deepest problems (all the evil in men’s hearts - both that committed by us and done to us) - as well as the variety of insecurities and fears that swirl around it? Would he not be the kind of person you’d long to be with, to actually get to know?

Further, as you saw yourself actually changing - from the inside out - might you also want nothing more than to learn to love like Him, expressing gratitude and telling everyone you meet what a strong Rescuer, and Wonderful Counselor he is?

So stop and ask yourself, "What do I really believe this God is like? How much do I really believe He's interested in loving...not just someone else...but me?" If the cross doesn't come to mind, you haven't yet grasped the wonder.

Perhaps another small - but also wondrous - illustration from God Himself, given to stir and enlarge our thoughts about Him, will suffice:

God tells his children that His thoughts of love and care towards them actually outnumbers the grains of sand on the shore (see Psalm 139: 13-18). Stop and consider it. (That's real thoughtfulness). Then next time you're on the beach, kneel down and scoop a handful of sand in your hand and start counting. If you make it to a thousand, you're probably only a small fraction of the way there. Now as you slowly pour the sand into your other hand, say this aloud (and don't worry about who's listening):

"God has had more thoughts about me than the total of all the grains in my hand, or even on this beach, or on all the beaches in the world!” Now if you can imagine such a thing, allow yourself to marvel. But then you will probably also say, "But how could he really, as broken and selfish and messed up as I am?"

True Change
Now see that person, in much the same way that Aslan in the Dawn Treader speaks to the boy Eustace (who followed his selfish heart and became a dragon in Narnia), saying to you: "You cannot tear away the dragon layers yourself. All the ugly pride and hardness that ruins your relationships will not come away with with makeovers, or good laws, not with more money or appliances or politics or self-help - but you must let me undress you. And if you will, if you ask me to change you, you will begin to see what you’ve only imagined you could become – but what I can already see." And as He begins to do it - throughout the days and weeks and years of your life - you will want to say:

Now to him who is able to do far more than all that we ask or think (imagine), according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. (Ephesians 3)

Singleness, and the Waiting

Intimacy, like joy, is a by-product of knowing, and being known by One who sees our hearts and still pursues us...Though not the goal itself, we can short-circuit our opportunities to enjoy intimacy with those around us (the neighbor next door, the business client) by being selfish, self-destructive, and undesirable to be with.

In the desire to enjoy another, waiting is a vital part of the story. As Paul Tripp has said, "waiting isn't just about what you are hoping for at the end of the wait, but also about what you'll become as you wait." Sometimes poetry is the best way to say it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igCj3jsbcqs&feature=grec_index

Optimistic Realism

Took a drive up to see the Palomar telescope recently, a 200 inch spyglass for gazing at the stars. (Actually, as I learned, the viewing lens itself isn't 200 inches, but rather the polished glass mirror that catches the star light and reflects it for taking camera shots. Very cool.) At any rate, it was a date with my wife, and we both endured the winding and somewhat nauseating road up to the top of beautiful Palomar mountain. (They used to call this jaunt "the highway to the stars" - at least until those scavengers of nostalgia stole the signs and put them on e-bay.)

I tell you this because besides the fact that the making of the reflector glass was a marvel itself (for the 1930's especially), and it was cast in the Corning, NY glass works (near my boyhood home in upper PA., and a frequent destination for fun grade-school trips), I was struck by inventor George Ellery Hale's passion for imagining and building bigger and better telescopes - but especially his motto for what to do with our lives:

Make no small plans, dreams no small dreams.

I've since learned that part of this quote might have been borrowed by Hale, because Daniel Hudson Burnham, author of the Chicago City Plans also said:

Make no small plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood.

Part of counseling is the privilege of opening up a counselee's imagination to that "deeper magic, from before the dawn of time," as Lewis put it in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The Gospel story is that deeper magic, and because its also true, it gives great hope for right now, as well as tremendous optimism about the future.

The realism part enters in as a happy result of that confidence. And it works like this: Because of the work of Christ (see Aslan on the stone table) you are incredibly secure: "It is finished" is his cry. Accomplished. Done. Every day you are able to say, "If I am his, nothing can separate me from his love - not even my days of doubt, my rebellious heart, or my lack of love. His grace is stronger than all these put together."

This means you are now so secure, as to be able to look realistically and honestly at the painful parts of your story. You don't have to sugar-coat evil, or pretend that nothing in the past matters because you now have God. On the contrary. Your whole story counts.


Frozen in Fear 
I know what you're thinking. Do you fear if you do this (take real stock of your past) you will disappear? Melt in a pool of tears and fall apart? Understand that mixed in with those real fears are always lies that Evil would have you believe. The truth is, "No, you cannot be separated from the love of Christ (see Rom. 8:35) - not by life, or death, or danger, or your past, or the real demons that raise their vicious accusations and attacks (read The Screwtape Letters by Lewis to see how subtle those attacks can be).

Such security means you are now so covered with Christ, that you're actually able to be changed - underneath that covering - in your heart. The heart of stone has become a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26), able now to be molded and reshaped.

What's your motto for life? Does it involve opening the observatory doors of your heart to let the "greater-than-starlight" grace of God shine and exposing it to His loving gaze, so that you can change? Understand, that kind of love and grace is actually more than "unconditional." It's a love springing from the heart of an incredibly good God that is so concerned for our freedom from Evil's grasp that it says, "Yes, I will receive you the way you are - warts and all - but no, I will not leave you as you are! I care about your healing and freedom too much to do that. And I care about my own glory - which is actually your best shot at joy."

Do you believe this? God has made His "no small plans" in the great rescue mission of His Son - the "bright Morning star" (Rev. 22:16). And because He has, a universe of new wonders awaits....real magic to stir men's blood.

Because of Him, you are "...children of God, without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe." Philippians 2:15

Modern-Day Lepers

My lovely wife and I are dating more of late (a sweet thing) - in part, to celebrate our 20th anniversary (we'll essentially celebrate all year), and also because the kids are away on extended holiday, so it frees up a bit more. (Moral of that story: parents, send your kids away once in a while. You'll re-connect, and you can still love them from afar. It usually does them good to get out of the nest too). Anyway, on one of our recent dates we decided to take in the new X-Men: First Class movie. Cool fun!

These X-Men guys, if you don't know the previous films or the comics, are "mutants," human aberrations of some evolutionary process-gone-wrong (or right, depending on your point of view). Some mutants grow colorful insect wings and spit gooey fireballs (Angel), others can heal super-fast and have gravity-defying hair-do 's (Wolverine, who makes a cameo in this one), and still others can read your mind (Charles Xavier) whether or not you want them to - and then counsel you on what you were about to do (Ahh, just the mutation I need!)

Evolutionary mutations do make fascinating fodder for fantasy movies and Comic-con gatherings, but I happen to like the X-Men films because, not only are they creative, well-made, and fun - but I also relate to one of the underlying premises: Don't we often feel like a modern-day leper (or mutant) in our own skin?  

The average guy on the street in X-Men either has it (this mutant gene) or he doesn't - and the film certainly plays with the tension of who's really the "normal" and "acceptable" in society (there's a whole Nazi angle dangling in the background too). But of course if the guy's got it, he's not talking - it's very much a covert affair. The reason for the silence hits all too close to home.

Watching these characters wrestle, I couldn't help but think: "What is it inside us, this "mutant gene" that shuts us up and sends us into hiding?" I suspect that one especially strong strain, with many facets, might just be our "mutant feeling" in a nutshell: shame.

Not Just X-Men Hide

Shame has a unique power to shut us up, taking away our voice and our honesty. We've all sensed it. It can leave us feeling cast-aside by others -which like the mutants, might actually be true, sadly- or even draw us to take up residence in our own self-imposed "leper colony;" one that lives within. (If we were honest, we might rather have actual leprosy than shame - the former being a "disease" that's now fairly easily cured, while the latter is much more stubborn to go.)

So imagine we can take out the microscope for a minute, and pause long enough to look at this mutant gene called "shame." After all, the original design was "naked without shame" (Gen. 2:25). The sample on the glass? The human heart. 

Now here's one strain, a case of what I call "every-day shame": You've done something wrong (why is this so hard to believe?), or stupid, and you don't want to confess your weakness or sin to anyone - especially your spouse or family. Like the mutant, you really despise the idea of looking bad or wrong (feeling shame), or appearing weak, and the possibility of not being thought well of or accepted just kills you. 

So, how do you deal? Well, like the mutants, you just don't talk about it - you shut up - but then end up not so honest when your spouse, or parent asks, "How was your day?"

In this case, the motivating desire (call it 'My Favorite Self-Salvation Attempt') comes into focus: "If I just pretend to look good, I will secure my acceptance with others - which if I could actually be honest, is often way more important to me than God, and what he thinks." Yep, pride is definitely involved here in this mutated strain.

Different Strains of Shame

Or, there are other versions of shame one might detect in certain individuals, such as accident victims and war vets. This "survivor guilt shame" courses through their veins, in some cases, even though they've done nothing wrong relative to the trauma - yet they still feel a certain shame about being alive. "Why them, and not me?" they ask...but mostly just to themselves. Just shut up and try to live with it, they think. (The question of a good God invariably is at root, and nags at the edges of their heart.)

Or - and this one deserves a whole book - shame may be cast on you by another, such as in sexual abuse, leaving you with a deep sense of feeling defiled, or dirty. "Unclean," the ancient cry of the leper, becomes your silent cry. This one may be the hardest of all to talk about - rarely will you hear this dealt with in family contexts, or churches - and so the sufferer (leper) lives in silent shame. (And what's even worse - if one can imagine it - is when the sufferer finally has the courage to talk about it, and then is labeled by others as the problem - in order to silence them again! This is all too common, if not enraging for the victim. Note: For an excellent new resource on this subject, see Rid of My Disgrace, by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb)

A Wounded Hero Comes

What's cool in the X-Men story is that an unlikely hero/rescuer emerges to lead the outcasts to a place of refuge - his own lavish home. In the process, "Xavier" suffers greatly at that hands of the enemy. Still - and this is the beautiful part - he gladly welcomes the weird and strange to join him, and he teaches and takes care of them. He doesn't just talk the talk, He "embodies it," identifying with them. And not only this, his heart is big enough to seek other outcasts too, and bring them home. What's more beautiful to a "leper" than that? Sound vaguely familiar?

Hopefully. But here's something even better. In Jesus, you have a TRUE Hero and Rescuer who see your "mutant" condition of shame. (Look at his time on earth - Jesus longed to be with the misfits, the outcasts, the broken - good news for us!)  And much like Xavier, once he finds you, he makes his home with you and begins to target and go to work on the very things that Evil uses to attack you (the whispered distortions about God and His goodness, as well as your own guilt and shame. See I John 3:8).

This message about Christ is what brings faith (Rom. 10:17), and faith renewed is what we need. Why is it so vital to hear, again and again, these Gospel promises? Because we can still think like mutants, often, even though we've been bought with the precious blood of the King. We've been adopted into His family, but we're still prone to shut-up in our shame, or pride. We still need daily grace to shun our pernicious self-reliance and be on guard to open our hearts to be encouraged and loved by others, so that we won't be "hardened by sin's deceitfulness" (Hebrews 3:13). We still need to remind each other of the promises and character of our good God every day.

Our Daily Dose
The moment by moment issue is still this: we are to come with empty pockets and hands. "Come empty? Seems so simple, right?" But in fact, it's often the hardest thing to do! (Despite the fact that we may sing "I Surrender All!") Leave your reputation as a "good parent," and come. Leave your "status and position" at work or church or wherever, and come. Leave your right answers, and your "right appearance," and come. Leave it all...  

Come to the fountain and receive, as Francis Schaeffer put it, "A present application of the blood of Christ." Hear again "Be clean!" and believe. Believe that Christ is all you need, see Him only, and when faith is enlarged again, (even if only a mustard seed size), understand that now anything is possible. Christ is for you!

The old preacher JC Ryle puts it well (a quote sent to me this week by my wife):

"He can wash us thoroughly from all the defilement of sin in His own blood... Let this sink down deeply into our hearts. There is medicine to heal our sickness. If we are lost it is not because we cannot be saved. However corrupt our hearts, and however wicked our past lives, there is hope for us in the Gospel. There is no case of spiritual leprosy too hard for Christ."

That's how the mutant and leper becomes a son or daughter. And that's also how we, as adopted sons and daughters, learn to actually live out of our "Son-ship," or union with Christ, and embrace daily our new identity. And finally, it's how our shut-up mouths learn to sing and praise once again the One who called us home.