One of the things that I struggle with the most in our current cultural climate is the broad-brushing by all sides. What do I mean by that? If you disagree with someone’s faith or political opinion you automatically assign to them the worst values from the most extreme people proclaiming that message. Without knowing a single thing about their story, their heart, or their background we tend to throw down the gauntlet of judgment. A lot of Christians have been unfairly targeted recently. Some deserve to be called to accountability. I have never had a problem with being honest about how I and many other followers of Jesus often fall short of representing the grace and love of Jesus. That is just a fact. That doesn’t change who Jesus is. But one heartbreaking result is that the entire Christian faith is being dismissed and denigrated by a lot of people with social media influence. With just a bit of internet
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In my mind there is no more special day in sports than Opening Day in baseball. The smell of freshly cut emerald green grass delights the senses. The base lines are painstakingly and perfectly defined by a grounds crew that is committed to perfection on this day. Red, white, and blue bunting give the ball park a festive World Series look. The players today act like little boys. On this day these athletes appear extra grateful that they are paid to play a kid’s game. Children skip school and parents do not care because memories are being made for both of them. The hot dogs taste like gourmet food. Souvenirs are treasures to be kept a lifetime. The atmosphere is magic. It is Opening Day and every team has hope. Each fan has dreams and they are hopefully, or perhaps hopelessly, optimistic. Last year’s disappointments are gone and the hope of a new season dawns for fifty thousand fans in
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This life is just the warmup act for followers of Jesus. A classic tune from the Righteous Brothers reflects my hope. If you believe in forever,Then life is just a one-night stand. Those lyrics reminded me that even if you hit triple digits on the age odometer this journey is still an eternal blink of the eye. Your significance is not how long but how well you live your life. Not how much fame or money you gain but what you do with time you are given. This weekend a song popped up on satellite radio called “We’re Only Here for a Little While”. Billy Dean is singing about leaving a funeral and recognizing his need to slow down and enjoy the everyday blessings of life. He decides to become intentional about doing the things that matter instead of worrying and tweeting about things that don’t amount to a hill of beans in eternity. Gonna hold who needs holdin’Mend what needs mendin’Walk what needs
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One of my favorite lessons from Stay came while rescued Lab Maggie and I traversed the usual path. She sniffed and I listened to a podcast as we paced briskly through a Texas morning. She spotted something and moved toward the curb. My eye caught something at the same time, and I jerked violently on her leash to pull her toward me. She looked surprised, puzzled at what she had done wrong for such a harsh correction from me. The truth was that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Some knucklehead had shattered a beer bottle and a jagged piece was right in her path. She could have been seriously cut by the razor-sharp glass. I was thankful I had spotted it, but I could see that my action confused Maggie. I needed to assure her that my unexpected reaction was not punitive but entirely out of concern for her. I immediately dropped down to my knee, scratched Maggie’s ears, and
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I recently watched the movie Jesus Revolution. I was deeply moved by the main theme of the movie. It doesn’t matter how much a particular group offends your personal standards of behavior and upsets your judgemental apple cart. We, as followers of Jesus, have been commanded to love others and to share the hope we have in Him. “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.” (John 13:34, NLT) Not suggested. Commanded. I grew up in a church that was much like the lukewarm assembly that Pastor Chuck Smith shepherded in this story. The congregants were set in their ways and had no patience with these long-haired hippies committing heinous sins like drug use, unmarried sex, and angry protests against the government. It was true that those actions violated God’s standards for believers. Too many in the church held these young people to standards that
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This floor sticker was amusing but not particularly helpful. It did make me remember how long I stumbled around trying to figure out where I was on my spiritual journey. Was I going to Heaven? Was I a good, bad, or indifferent Christian? Was I loved by God? Was I significant? The question of where I was as a follower of Christ and who I was as a person consumed and confused me. The always present Enemy answered the questions above on a regular basis. Maybe not going to Heaven. Definitely a bad Christian. Not really loved or bad things wouldn’t happen to you. Totally insignificant. The following is a little excerpt on this topic from my book Waking Up Slowly. For too many years I believed the accusations, without considering the question that Philip Yancey asks. Sociologists have a theory of the looking-glass self: you become what the most important person in your life (wife, father, boss, etc.) thinks you
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I am always saddened by the all out sprint to judgement of people and institutions that make mistakes. It often seems the harshest comments come from people who ought to tap the brakes before they go there. These are folks that have made their own mistakes. Often they were offered second chances. My initial response was self-righteous indignation because, let’s be honest, I am good at that. Eventually the quiet voice of the Spirit reminds me that I have also been that guy who is quick to judge. I am that guy who tries to argue with God about forgiveness and whether someone “deserves” mercy. A little snippet from my book Stay addressed this very issue after Paul threw down an incredible statement to the Ephesian church. How quickly I forget. I forget how much I have been forgiven. I forget how much I am loved by Jesus. I forget that I am a brand new creation. I forget I
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