Change Agent?

One of my seminary professors (who happens to be a rather prolific author) is fond of saying that one of the most amazing things about Jesus is his expectation that people can change. It is really rather stunning to see him speaking with the Samaritan woman at the well, whose life is a series of failed relationships, speaking as if a new kind of life for her is within reach. Jesus goes to the home of a tax collector, breaks bread, and somehow the man whose life has been built on greed becomes a giver.

People had this way of changing when Jesus got involved in their lives. When people hung out with Jesus, when they had him over for a meal, when they asked questions of him and listened, and when they stood on a hill outside Jerusalem and watched him die, they changed. Not all of them. But many of them.

It's stunning to see this. Especially in a world where we are told, as children, that "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" or "a leopard can't change its spots."

So this evening, as we tip-toe up to the start of a new year, I am thinking of change. How exciting the prospect of change may be for those of us who are stuck in lifeless, frustrating, soul-numbing, broken places.

Perhaps it is possible not only for people to change but for nations. And for churches. Which is a good thing...because while there is beauty and grace in most churches the truth is that many congregations are turned inward. Not only are too many churches focused on being a provider of religious services that will please constituents but the church has too often fallen silent in the face of injustice and profound human need.

Change is never easy. Change rarely comes quickly. But with God there is the possibility of change...new life. Jesus says if we take his love and truth into our lives (he talks about himself as bread that brings life to those who receive it) then we can live in new, eternal, free, right ways.

Remember that tonight (or today...or whenever you read this), okay? The Carpenter shows up and leopards change their spots, old dogs learn new tricks, tax collectors start giving money away to make things right, and a Samaritan woman stops trying to fill the hole in her heart with one more boyfriend.

Killing Applause.

Whatever you may think of the opinions of the politicans who stood on the stage at the recent GOP presidential debate, it was stunning to hear the audience break into applause at the mention that more than 234 persons have been executed in the state of Texas during Governor Rick Perry's tenure. An audience of soccer moms and suburban middle class folks (a good many of who, I presume, attend church most weekends) cheered the killing of 234 persons? Really?

Study after study shows serious problems with the way that the death penalty is carried out. Cases of mistaken identity are not that unusual (which led the State of Illinois to halt executions), and there is evidence that some innocent persons have been put to death. Studies show the penalty is applied disproportionately so that minorities are more likely to receive this most extreme of all penalties. Some who should know also say that capital punishment does not serve as a significant deterent to violent crime. Finally, the cost of applying the death penalty -when you factor in legal appeals that often go on for years- can exceed the expense of putting an individual in prison for life with no possibility of parole.

Oh, there is one more thing: it seems impossible to me for a Christian to cheer the death penalty while claiming to follow Jesus Christ. Jesus said we are to turn the other cheek when struck. Jesus told his disciple to put down the sword. And Paul encourages us to overcome evil with good.

Truth is I believe Christians are called to be pro-life. For me that means opposing the death penalty and opposing abortion in most cases. It also means supporting government policies that will enrich the lives of children and encourage a republic where there is life, liberty and the opportunity to pursue happiness.

Long ago Baptist preacher Will Campbell, who has been friend of the Black Panthers and served as a chaplain to the KKK down south, was asked to go on public tv to debate the death penalty. Will listened to a proponent of capital punishment make a lengthy opening statement, and then Will simply said, "I think it's tacky."

I don't know what it says about us that a washed up, well dressed room full of middle class and upper income types cheer the death of 234 individuals. Maybe it says we are afraid. Maybe it says we have somehow lost the connection between our political views and our souls. The next time Christians are tempted to cheer the killing of men and women they might want to open the New Testament, hang out with Jesus, and listen for the voice of the Galilean.

Air Brushed Christians: a Word for the Holidays.

Our oldest son lives in Columbus, Ohio. A friend of his has a tough job: air brushing the pictures of the models whose pictures will be used in the catalogue at Victoria's Secret. Or whose pictures will be posted in the stores.

When I heard that, I wondered what constitutes a bad day for the company artist. I wonder if this young guy's wife understands when he complains about a long day...deadlines?

This may come as a shock to you, but these seemingly perfect women aren't perfect. The leaders of the company, though, want any imperfections covered over...removed.

Sometimes we are guilty, in the church, of airbrushing our lives. We want any sign of weakness or fear or failure removed. We do our best to hide all that. Not sure why we -why I- do that but I suspect it has to do with not trusting people to love us, or want to be with us, if they knew just how ragged around the edges we sometimes are. Truth is the temptation to airbrush the fears and sin and imperfection out of our lives is evidence of our lack of trust in God's grace. "How could a holy God want anything to do with a creature who has been known to yell at his kids, or who has trouble controlling his mouth, or can't get over the bitterness of a long ago divorce?" we think. So we airbrush. We hide the sad or scared or mean stuff.

I was thinking about that this afternoon. As we approach Christmas. A tv ad for Budweiser showed a team of horses pulling a perfect wagon through a gentle snowstorm. It showed a perfect white farm house with a perfect green wreath, with a perfect red bow, on the front of the house. We see these images of perfect holiday gatherings. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents and loving children, a well behaved dog wagging its tail to the beat of a Christmas carol. We see people in a warm home, gifts wrapped and piled beneath a tree, folks holding hands around the dinner table for prayer...and it all just seems so...perfect.

If you are thinking you are the only one in the world whose life is ragged, if you think you are the only one who gets overwhelmed or lonely during the holidays, I have news for you: few families, few relationships, and few holiday gatherings are as perfect as the idealized pictures show them to be. A lot of people get tired....during the holidays. A lot of people feel overwhelmed. A lot of people have moments of loneliness.

Two weeks ago I was coming back from a meeting in central Indiana. I called a person I love very much to tell them I was thinking about them. I called to check in on them. Our conversation went from bad to worse. At the end she was shouting at me and I was shouting back. "I called to tell you I love you!" I said into the phone. "Don't you get it?" She shouted back. I said, "This isn't good for either one of us" and I hung up on her. Twice...because she called back and started yelling again. I was driving through deep darkness, on a rainy night, in Whitley County. By the time I got home my body was humming...electric...with sadness. Disappointment. How can families and friendships get so sideways?

The dirty little secret is many of us, even in the Christian community, do our best to airbrush this stuff out. But it is still there...

Paul, in his letters, is so honest! He doesn't appear to be trying to airbrush the sin and struggle out of his life. In Romans 7 he talks about his struggle with sin. Paul looks at his heart, his soul, and describes what he finds as a war (:23) Then, Paul says God has the power -in Jesus Christ- to deliver him from that war. He begins the next chapter by saying "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

Maybe God loves us so much that we can stop airbrushing. Be honest. And let God's love do some deep healing.

The Silliness of the Greatest Ever.

It's a letter in the current issue of Sports Illustrated. Written by a fellow named Joseph Evans of Roselle Park, New Jersey. Joseph is talking about an article that appeared in the March 16th issue of SI on New Jersey Devils' goalie, Martin Brodeur.

Now, I don't follow pro hockey all that closely...although I fell in love with minor league hockey when we lived in the Fort Wayne, Indiana area for eight years. And I have heard about Brodeur. He is supposed to be something else.

What Joseph said, though, caught my attention. At the end of his letter he says this about Brodeur, "He's unquestionably the greatest goaltender ever to play in the NHL."

What is the deal with our need to proclaim people the "best ever" or "greatest of all time?" I have a hunch there were some hockey goalies in the 50's, 60's, 70's, and 80's that were pretty amazing. I mean, to compete at the highest levels of sports -whether as an F1 driver, a golfer, a football player, a hockey goalie, a rider in the Tour de France- means you are an extraordinary athlete.

Maybe it is generational myopia. Every generation likes to stand on their little chronological hill, and announce that a pitcher or hitter or goalie or painter or actor or novelist is the greatest ever. Really?

This may come as a surprise to those who have announced that Tiger Woods is the best ever, but Jack Nicklaus was pretty amazing in his day. Lebron James is something else, but so was Oscar Robertson...and Gail Goodrich. There are some great big men in the NBA, but for my money Bill Russell was the best (or should I say one of the best?). U2 is stunning...but so were the Beatles...The Band...Booker T. & the MG's... The Four Tops. Tom Brady and Peyton Manning are great quarterbacks, but Joe Montana and Kenny Stabler and Johnny Unitas and Sid Luckman were breath-taking in their day.

I wish we could just appreciate the amazing work of great athletes, writers, actors, directors...without feeling the need to pronounce someone "the greatest ever." It is a silly statement. A statement that reveals our own generation's need to be the axis around which all other generations pivot.

Jesus said the greatest among you must be the least. Servant of all. It's upside-down definition of greatness, but it is true.

Great runners run, great goalies block impossible shots, great writers put words together in ways that change our hearts and the way we see...the way we live. They take our breath away.

How about we agree to stop declaring this person or that "the greatest ever," and just give thanks for what is?

The Greatest Threat.

A few weeks ago a reporter from MSNBC asked me, "What is the biggest threat ahead of your community...your people?"

"Despair," I said.

We'll get through the short-term crisis of this economic downturn, I said. In our city of 55,000 people the actual unemployment rate is probably above 20%. Our folks have been through economic recessions before, and they are pretty resilient. They are creative and they'll come back.

Human beings have a pretty amazing capacity to come through a short-term crisis. The soldiers under fire in a Baghdad neighborhood react with amazing resourcefulness. The family with a very sick young child pulls together and gets through the crisis.

When thngs can get really tough, though, is after the crisis passes or first hits. it's the long haul that can wear a military unit down...or a family...or a marriage...or a community.

"We'll get through the first stages of the crisis okay," I said, "but I worry about people surrendering to despair when the challenges linger for months. When that great job doesn't come back...or when some changes we thought were going to be temporary look like they might become temporary."

Yesterday I got a phone call from a buddy: after months of searching he had just received a job offer. The application process, the interviews and all, had gone on for weeks. The job was his! I could hear the relief in his voice. Today I found out another friend didn't get the job they had been hoping for, interviewing for, and I know this must feel like a very, very tough Friday. A member of the family told me, after hearing the news, that God is good...God is faithful...and there is another job out there.

We are focused on helping one another through the crisis. I find myself wondering about the long term.

I keep thinking about the empty tomb of Easter. I keep thinking about the two men traveling to the town of Emmaus, after they had heard Jesus had been nailed to a cross and buried in the ground. "But we had hoped..." they said to a stranger (who turned out to the risen Christ).

Despair is like a dog that prowls the neighborhood. Always ready to dig its teeth into us. But we are going through this together. And we have a God whose resurrection power shows up in all sorts of ways.

Leaning Back.

Funny how a granddaughter can change your life.

I never expected this.

But I have been knocked out by the joy Ella has brought into my life.

There are a lot of things that just "get me" about her. The way she walks as she holds onto the finger of an adult. Her legs reaching out in a wide arc. Her bare feet feel the ground or surface ahead... almost like another set of hands.

There is the way she hears someone digging in the freezer in the kitchen, and she motors in on all fours saying, "Ice...ice."

There is the way, when she hears music, she begins to move her hands as if she were conducting the Chicago Symphony Orchestra...only not in an obvious way. With more subtlety.

There is even the way she, when she gets frustrated, puffs up with rage and looks like she is going to blow a gasket. The other night at a barbecue place in Columbus she lost it. The only thing on the table in front of her was a small, stuffed penguin we had bought during a visit to the Zoo that afternoon. Ella rose up, and swept her arm across the table knocking the penguin into the air. Almost as if she was saying, "Okay...the penguin's going to get it...and one of you could be next."

It's all cool.

But the thing that gets me is the way she comes up and leans back against me. She just settles into me. Stretches her arms, tilts her head back over my side as I lie on the floor, and throws her arms around my neck.

Her vocabulary is pretty limited right now, but I think what she would say in those moments is, "I feel safe. I feel safe with you...and we're sort of one."

John Wesley, who founded the Methodist renewal movement, talked a lot about the "assurance" of salvation. What he meant by that, I hunch, is we know when we lean back into the grace of God we are going to be okay. The love of Jesus is going to catch us.

There is a Christian song that talks about "leaning on the everlasting arms." It doesn't talk about leaning on the shoulder of God...or leaning on the tummy of God...or throwing our arms around the neck of God.

But I think you get the idea.

And so does Ella.