The Kingdom, The Kids, & the Cowboys

“Be careful what you ask for…”

You’ve heard that before, right? Maybe you’ve even said it before. “Be careful what you ask for…”

Why?

“…because you just might get it.”

If my understanding of salvation is correct, God’s Holy Spirit is transforming us, changing us into the image of Christ. “Christ in us” is our hope of glory. We are being transformed “into the image of Christ with ever increasing glory.” Paul calls this “being saved.” It’s a process. It’s a journey. It’s a gradual becoming.

And it involves suffering.

Jesus made it plain: “All men will hate you because of me” (Matthew 10:22).

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first” (John 15:18).

Paul knew it, too: “Every one who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

See, we don’t normally think this way. We preach and teach, we believe and confess that if the whole world acted more like Jesus everybody would love everybody. If we thought and behaved more like our Lord, people would love us and be attracted to us. The Scriptural truth and the ultimate reality is that if we become more like Jesus, people will actually hate us. It’s unavoidable. If you want a safe, untroubled, comfortable life free from danger, then stay away from Jesus! The danger and risk and exposure to suffering increases in proportion to the depth of our relationship with the Christ.

Maybe this is why we sit back and settle for a casual relationship with Christ and just routine religion in the church. It’s safe at most churches. And, the way most of us do it, it’s actually pretty popular to be a Christian and go to church. As long as we’re pursuing the same goals and values and uphold the same ideals as everybody else in the world, even if we put a Christian label on it, the world’s cool with us. As long as our Christianity looks like the American Dream, we’re not going to have many problems.

But Jesus says, “Everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40).

Our Teacher was mocked and beaten and ridiculed and persecuted and betrayed and murdered. He suffered and sacrificed and bled and died. Do we really want to be like him?

“It has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him but also to suffer for him” (Philippians 1:29).

Peter says we shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. Paul says we should consider it a joy. Scripture upholds that suffering is a gift. Christ gives us a gift — suffering. It’s a blessing. It’s a grace. It’s transformational. It’s life; eternal life. It’s discipleship; being like Jesus. Sanctification; being changed. Salvation; being saved.

Make me a servant; Lord, make me like you.

Be careful what you ask for.

Peace,

Allan

There’s a Season Three episode of Seinfeld in which Jerry and Elaine are attempting to pick up a rental car. Jerry has made a reservation for a mid-size and the lady behind the counter informs him that they don’t have a mid-size available at the moment.

Jerry says, “I don’t understand; I made a reservation. Do you have my reservation?”

“Yes, we do,” she answers. “But, unfortunately, we ran out of cars.”

Now Jerry’s really confused. And a little agitated. “But the reservation keeps the car here! That’s why you have the reservation!”

“I know why we have reservations.”

“I don’t think you do. If you did, I’d have a car. See, you know how to take the reservation. You just don’t know how to hold the reservation. And that’s really the most important part of the reservation: the hold.”

“…an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade — kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power.” ~1 Peter 1:4-5

The promise of eternal life is guaranteed and kept — held! — by the power of God for his children. And that guarantee inspires us. It moves us. It drives us.

Through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, our God has made a reservation in heaven. And the treasures of heaven that are being held for us can never be taken away. They can’t rot or disappear. Nothing can ruin it. It can’t be cheapened or stained in any way. It’s guarded. It’s shielded. It’s protected by God’s power. We will never walk up to the counter and be disappointed because God didn’t know how to “hold.”

What a relief! What great assurance! How liberating! What a blessing to realize we are not kept by our own power. Our eternal destiny does not depend on our own abilities which do disappoint or our own merits which do come up short. We are kept — held! — by the power of the Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth.

In this, as Peter writes, we greatly rejoice.

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I wanted to share a few snow pictures with you, especially if you’re reading this from somewhere outside our greater Amarillo area. It seems the Blizzard Warning on the 19th was six days early. We got just under seven inches of snow on Christmas Day and it was marvelous.

It was still coming down hard when we left our lunch at Steve and Connie’s to head back to town. The Woods live just west of town and we were warned that when they close I-40, they do it at Soncy Road. So we grabbed a handful of Connie’s fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and followed Craig and Donna back to the highway.

Sunday afternoon, Greg and Mean Jean and I took our kids (all of his, one of mine) and the McNeil urchins out to MediPark Hill for some sledding. They call it MediPark Hill; I think it’s actually just a huge drainage ditch. First time sledding for me. Ever. Valerie accompanied me on the adventure while the other three women in my house stayed inside. High and dry. It’s a good thing that MediPark Hill is right in the middle of the hospital district. I was having to walk up and sled down while, at the same time, dodging Josh’s Kamikaze attacks from the side and Ethan’s slushballs aimed at my earhole. Mark my words: You little guys will get yours!

Here’s a shot of our new backyard on Roxton covered in snow:

We’ve had right at nine-and-a-half inches of snow so far this season. But since Christmas Day, we’ve been mostly sunny and in the 50s and 60s. If this is winter in Amarillo, it’s not nearly as bad as all of you made it out to be.

Peace,

Allan

We spent our assembly time together here at Central yesterday considering the weird passage in Genesis 15 about the blood path ceremony between God and Abram. All the pieces of animal, all the blood, the thick and dreadful darkness, the two symbols representing God passing between the pieces.

Clearly, God was promising Abram that God’s promises about giving Abram many descendents and lots of land and, eventually, blessing all the nations of the earth by his seed were trustworthy. God was going to be true to his word. And he staked his life on it by walking between the bloody pieces of the sacrificial animals. God used a very common practice, this ceremony with which everybody was familiar, to demonstrate his commitment to his word.

If what is explicit in Genesis 17:1, that Abram had to be blameless and live in perfection before the Lord, was understood at this time to be Abram’s part of the covenant — and I believe it was — then it’s remarkable that God walked the path between the pieces twice. The smoke and the fire, two theophanies representing YHWH Lord, both pass through the blood. God stands in for Abram. He walks in Abram’s place. The promise from the Lord, in addition to the kids and the land and the Messiah is that God is going to pay for his people’s sins. God pays the price whether he or Abram violates the covenant. Either way, the penalty is on God. Whenever and however the covenant gets broken, when it’s broken, God dies.

The significance of this powerful picture of God walking the blood path in Genesis 15 cannot be overstated. Yes, what God has promised he will certainly do. In the scheme of Genesis and the rest of the Torah, this story goes a long way in reminding us that God overcomes seemingly insurmountable obstacles — barren wombs, enemies in the promised land, the sin of his people — to keep his word. Yes. But it’s so much more than that, too.

God’s perfect promises are free gifts to his people. God is the One who initiates the relationship with us and provides for us what is needed to maintain it. We bring nothing to the table. The Father desires to bond eternally with people who consistently reject him. And he’s willing to prove his devotion to the relationship by offering his own life. Not only that, but the Lord is willing to pay the price himself for the covenant failures of man.

And God’s promise is unconditional. It was not dependent on Abram at all. The covenant stands no matter what the people believe or what they practice. The fulfillment does not depend on man’s faith or faithfulness. God’s “I AM” is perfectly adequate for man’s “I am not.” We can’t perfectly keep the terms of our covenant with God. It’s impossible. We are entirely unable to walk before the Lord and be blameless. But, praise God, that’s not the end of the matter. Our Father made the provision for us long ago. His walking through the blood symbolizes his willingness to stand in for us, to do what is necessary to cover for us, when we violate the terms of the covenant.

At the end of the day, Abram was assured that his own future and the futures of his children and descendents were firmly in the hands of the covenant God. “On that day,” Genesis 15:18 says, “the Lord made (lit: cut) a covenant with Abram.” The point remains the same for you and me under the renewed covenant: God’s word is dependable. It’s perfect. The Lord keeps his promises. Our Father is faithful; and very, very good.

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The seeds of yesterday’s sermon were planted in me by a teaching I heard from Ray Vander Laan about seven years ago. A year later, Dr. Mark Shipp assigned the Genesis 15 text to me for an exegetical research project at Austin Grad. Vander Laan inspired me. Shipp challenged me. And now this picture in Genesis 15 is a part of me. You can read Vander Laan’s work on the subject here. You can read my exegetical paper on the passage by clicking here: Genesis 15 Exegesis

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It turned out to be a full weekend project. In and around Thanksgiving food, football, and family; in between Christmas decorating and shopping; before and after church and study and movies and games; Valerie had to write a poem for school. This poem had to be based on an earlier project in which she had described herself by using dualities found in images and ideas from nature. Among other things, Valerie had written about fire, which produces energy and warmth, yet also displays a tendency to ignore boundaries and be destructive. She had mentioned Spring, contrasting songs and flowers against the inevitable wind and storms. There were also the complexities of a diamond: multi-faceted, hard, yet submitting to the gem-cutter’s blade. She also sees herself in the Azaleas: striking in their brilliance, yet so stinking high-maintenance. But could she express all of this in a poem?

Oh, yes she can.

It’s beautiful. I suggested she title it “A Song Unfinished.” She went with “The Stonecutter’s Project.” It describes my little Valerie perfectly. A bundle of energy and talent and unlimited potential. Enjoy.

She crackles, she sizzles, inspires as she dances;
she daringly spreads as she leaps at new chances.
Fiery, bold, contagious.
Careless, impulsive, outrageous.
A tendency to both warm and consume as she advances.

A skip in her Vans and a spritz of perfume;
like Spring, she has sprung, entirely in bloom.
Songbirds, shamed by her voice.
But beware of her other noise:
the lightening and thunder of an alternate mood.

Like the Azalea in season, so striking, so pink;
it takes the right mix of rich soil and zinc.
P, B, and Js.
Grilled cheese and Lays.
For Valerie, nothing more, nothing less, and a D. P. to drink.

Like the diamond that dazzles through each of its facets,
the word “brilliance” defines and sums up her assets.
Unique, strong, true to her pledges.
Stubborn, steadfast, still rough around the edges.
Continually refined by the Stonecutter’s tools, a polished gem with no regrets.

Peace,

Allan

“First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” ~Mark 7:27

The way Jesus talks to this woman always messes us up. It’s fine for Jesus to be rude to Pharisees and Saducees. They deserve it. We even cheer at Jesus’ harsh words to the religious establishment… until we realize he’s talking to us. But it’s just not like him — it’s not Christ-like — for him to be rude to this woman who’s genuinely coming to him for help. It doesn’t make sense. It offends us.

Now, I do think Jesus is doing something deliberate here. And I think Mark is bending over backwards to show it to us. I believe Jesus is re-stating the salvation plan: first for the Jew and then for the Greek. And as he’s saying it, he’s demonstrating that the “then” is right now! He heals this Gentile woman in this Gentile land. And then our Lord immediately takes off for the Decapolis, ten pagan Gentile cities on the east coast of Galilee. And he heals. And then he feeds four thousand Gentiles in a Gentile desert. What Mark is saying in this section of his Gospel is that now it’s for everybody. The power of the Kingdom of God is for all people. You do not set any limits on the universal reach of the Savior of the World.

But sometimes that wonderful news overshadows the great humility of this desperate woman. And I believe Mark wants us to pay attention to that, too.

Jesus calls her and her people “dogs.” There’s no getting around it. And this woman doesn’t argue. She accepts the Jewish priority as explained by Jesus. She concedes the difference between the children and the dogs. And she humbles herself as a dog in order to accept healing from the Lord.

Her attitude is key. It’s necessary if one is going to be a true disciple of Jesus.

She comes to Jesus empty handed. She makes no claim. She has no merit. No priority. No standing. No privilege. She has nothing to commend herself to Jesus. She is in no way deserving of his mercy and healing. She does not argue that her case is some kind of special exception. She doesn’t lobby for special treatment. She completely accepts his judgment and bows down before Jesus as a beggar.

She’s not saying, “Lord, give me what I deserve on the basis of my goodness.” She says, “Lord, give me what I don’t deserve on the basis of your goodness.”

This willingness to humble oneself is a key requirement for discipleship. And it’s a lesson that Jesus’ own hand-picked apostles had a difficult time learning. Her attitude is the opposite of the apostles’ who are always arguing about who’s going to be the greatest. This woman is not bitter about the privileges of others. She doesn’t resent others’ shares of God’s blessings. She accepts her place and she comes to Jesus, just like we all must, as a sinner, poor and needy. She accepts that she’s unacceptable. Just like me. Just like us.

Martin Luther saw the entire Gospel in this one story. We are truly more wicked than we could ever believe; and we are more loved and accepted by God than we could ever dare to hope.

Pride, though, is our huge problem. Augustine said pride is what changed angels into devils. Pride is what causes us to thumb our noses at the God who insists we are unworthy. “I’m not a dog! I’m not weak! I’m not incapable! I’m not undeserving!” We’re offended. And we walk away from the Savior.

But not this woman. No, sir. This woman understood very well what Romans tells us, what all of Holy Scripture tells us: we are rebels and enemies of God, sinful and diseased, dead and powerless. In all humility she accepted that status, and received from Christ the healing and salvation she and her family so desperately needed. She is the perfect model of what it means to be last of all, to bow low and submit to the gracious King.

Don’t believe for a second you’re not a dog. You are. Don’t change the words in the song from “…such a worm as I” to “…such a one as I.” Don’t. You are an unrighteous, unholy, sinful, dirty human being in desperate need of a Savior. And he has come. And he loves you more than you can possibly begin to imagine.

Peace,

Allan

These first two games of the World Series are what October baseball is all about. The stakes are eternally high. The games are immeasurably close. The margin for error is razor thin. The drama of each game and the series itself builds with every half inning. We hold our breath with every pitch. Our heart rates increase and decrease every time bat strikes ball. Every pitching change, every managerial decision, every bunt, bobble, and base-on-balls is monumental. Both of these first two games have packed more drama than a month of soap opera Fridays. More tension. More uncertainty. More surprises. More oh-my-word-can-you-believe-that-just-happened thrill!

The outcome remains completely in doubt until the very last out of the very last inning.

We don’t know until that final K or that last base hit who’s going to win. Who will prevail? Will it be the loveable hunch-playing Wash, running in place in the Rangers dugout, or the calculating TLR with ice in his veins and evil in his cold stare? Will it be the All-American boy next door Michael Young and the redeemed Josh Hamilton or the all-powerful Pujols and the grizzled former Astro? We don’t know. We don’t know. Can a “catching” error really decide this thing? Yeah, maybe. Could the MVP really be a guy off the Cards’ bench? Perhaps. But we won’t know until the very bitter end.

That’s what we love about October baseball.

Aren’t we glad our eternal destinies don’t hang in the balance like the outcome of a World Series?

Aren’t we glad that we already know who wins between good and evil in this world? Aren’t we glad that God through Christ Jesus, our crucified and risen Lord, has already defeated forever the forces of sin and death and Satan and everything else that would ever separate us from him? Aren’t we glad that we already know the final score? Our destiny is already delivered. The outcome is certain. Holy Scripture and God’s great acts in history and our Father’s faithful promises for the future show us clearly that God wins. And it’s a rout! It’s a blowout! Not even close! One-hundred-gazillion to nothing! Satan doesn’t even get out of the starting blocks. Evil doesn’t even get a swing. Death never gets a runner in scoring position. God wins! Put it in six-inch headlines: GOD WINS!!!

So relax. Take a deep breath. Calm down. Smile a little.

You’re on the winning team, right?

There’s plenty to worry about with this World Series. But as far as our eternal salvation is concerned, it’s already game over.

Peace,

Allan

“All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection.” ~Romans 6:3-5

Dear Valerie,

It was my great and special honor to baptize you yesterday into the sin-forgiving and salvation-bestowing blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Your baptism, your open heart, and your confessing spirit were an inspiration to all of us who participated in your new birth. It was an especially proud moment for your mom and me.

You have been tremendously blessed by our God. He has favored you, Valerie, with a gentle and generous disposition that considers the needs of others and openly shares kindness and compassion. You are a beautiful and brilliant young lady with an endless amount of potential. The possibilities you possess within you to do good are staggering. You’re so talented, so hilarious, so full of life.

Your mom and I have worked very hard to pass along to you and your sisters our faith in our risen Christ. We have tried to live every day as models of what it looks like to practice what we preach. We’ve tried to be consistent in living out the Gospel in our every interactions within our family and within the world God has given us. Your decision to give yourself wholly to Jesus as the ultimate and eternal Lord of your life is a moment of great satisfaction for us; I won’t lie. It means everything.

“You are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed and heirs according to the promise.” ~Galatians 3:26-29

Be reminded, Valerie, that when you were baptized you put to death that old girl of sin. You buried that girl. You killed her. And when you came up out of the water you were a brand new creature. God has created in you a brand new person, full of his Holy Spirit, to experience everything in a brand new way. You now share in the Resurrection of Jesus. Death has nothing on you now. And neither does sin.

You have renounced the ways of the devil. You have rejected the patterns of this world. You have said ‘no’ to temptation and evil desires that would pull you away from your God. You have now personally and publically embraced salvation from God in Christ. You have put your trust, not in horses and chariots, not in your own talents and abilities, not in your own works and good deeds, but in the Father who promises to save you. Your faith is in him. You have placed yourself in his gracious and loving arms. And he will deliver. Our God is faithful, Valerie. And very, very good.

“Since then you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God… For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” ~Colossians 3:1-4

God has incredibly huge things in store for you, girl. He is going to work in you to transform you more and more into the perfect image of his holy Son. And he’s going to work through you to bless the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, of people to his eternal glory and praise. And I’m going to be right there in a front row seat, waving your flags and cheering you on the whole way.

You are my daughter in whom I am well pleased.

May you look back often on your baptism, Val, and remember what God has created in you. And may you walk with him always, faithful to the end.

I love you,

Dad