I took my dad out for breakfast the day before Thanksgiving. I told Dad that I had called his old Navy buddy, for whom I am named, to wish him a happy Thanksgiving. Dad's old pal had recently visited our home and I sent our group photo to him afterwards. My namesake let me know that the photo was now taped to the refrigerator door and it made him happy to think about our recent fellowship.
My dad listened to my update on his friend, and thoughtfully said, "It's nice to know you're on somebody's refrigerator."
I was going to let it go at that. Then the words sunk in a little more and I thought about the pictures that we've put up on our refrigerator over the past years. My mom on one of her "good days" during her cancer battle. My daughter and her fiancé during the engagement. Nieces and nephews for graduation or sports.
And honestly, it felt good to know I was "on" the refrigerator door at my namesake's home.
One of the magnets holding up pictures on our refrigerator is a Lamb next to a stained glass cross, representing the "lamb of God." Another depicts a man praying with his young son and the words, "Choose this day whom you will serve."
It's from a bible scipture that says,
"As for me and my house, we will follow the Lord." Joshua 24:15
God doesn't need recognition from us. His universe isn't going to be impacted one way or another by a magnet on a refrigerator.
But in whatever way we remember Him each day, a prayer of thanks or a raised hand of worship, I believe he probably likes being remembered "on the refrigerator" of our hearts.
What do you believe?
Monday, December 27, 2010
Gospel Pass Completions
I grew up during the Packer Glory years (think Bart Starr, not Brett Favre), so I've a history of watching good, competitive football.
My favorite type of pass play is when the quarterback throws to a point downfield where the receiver has not yet arrived. For tense moments, it appears as though there is a missed route. The ball is heading toward empty field and the play will be wasted on an incomplete pass. Then at the last second, with the ball still hanging in the air, the receiver shifts direction. All of a sudden, their path and the path of the ball converge on the same point and...hurrah! Pass completed.
How did that happen?
When you watch the replay from an overhead angle, its fascinating to see how accurately the pass is directed to its destination, and how deftly timed is the arrival of the receiver. Beautiful.
If the quarterback has thrown the ball to the planned spot, then he has successfully done his job - whether the ball is caught or not. The quarterback can't run the route for the receiver. If the receiver is too slow to respond, or gets caught up in the other players, they may miss the catch. But it isn't a "bad throw," it is a "missed catch."
Still, the entire team shares the disappointment.
Evangelism - sharing the good news about Jesus - is like that.
We are aiming the word of God out into the world. We need to accurately and precisely deliver the goods as planned. The Bible is our playbook.
"God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, so that anyone who should believe in Him will have eternal life." John 3:16
People are heading toward the gospel - toward eternal salvation - from countless different directions. I've heard of many diverse routes downfield; so complicated, crowded and tragic that I can't even imagine. But the gospel arrives where it is intended, often just in time. If we've done our job.
A perfect spiral is spoken accurately, in God's words, just as he planned it - not with our wobble or flair in the throw.
We can't catch it for the other person - but we can make sure it lands Right in their hands.
What do you believe?
My favorite type of pass play is when the quarterback throws to a point downfield where the receiver has not yet arrived. For tense moments, it appears as though there is a missed route. The ball is heading toward empty field and the play will be wasted on an incomplete pass. Then at the last second, with the ball still hanging in the air, the receiver shifts direction. All of a sudden, their path and the path of the ball converge on the same point and...hurrah! Pass completed.
How did that happen?
When you watch the replay from an overhead angle, its fascinating to see how accurately the pass is directed to its destination, and how deftly timed is the arrival of the receiver. Beautiful.
If the quarterback has thrown the ball to the planned spot, then he has successfully done his job - whether the ball is caught or not. The quarterback can't run the route for the receiver. If the receiver is too slow to respond, or gets caught up in the other players, they may miss the catch. But it isn't a "bad throw," it is a "missed catch."
Still, the entire team shares the disappointment.
Evangelism - sharing the good news about Jesus - is like that.
We are aiming the word of God out into the world. We need to accurately and precisely deliver the goods as planned. The Bible is our playbook.
"God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, so that anyone who should believe in Him will have eternal life." John 3:16
People are heading toward the gospel - toward eternal salvation - from countless different directions. I've heard of many diverse routes downfield; so complicated, crowded and tragic that I can't even imagine. But the gospel arrives where it is intended, often just in time. If we've done our job.
A perfect spiral is spoken accurately, in God's words, just as he planned it - not with our wobble or flair in the throw.
We can't catch it for the other person - but we can make sure it lands Right in their hands.
What do you believe?
No Topaz at Cartier
The four of us were window shopping in downtown Chicago and wandered past Cartier's window.
On a lark, I pushed through the door and walked into the brilliantly lit, glittering showroom.
Case after glass case of sparkling gems cascaded across the spacious, high ceilinged room.
"What are you doing?!" my wife whispered hurriedly. "We can't afford anything in here!"
"Relax," I smiled. "You're window shopping in Chicago, it can't hurt to browse the best."
She shrugged reluctantly, and we drifted toward the nearest display case.
Within seconds, an impeccably dressed sales person appeared behind the case and took stock of her prospects.
She couldn't have been too encouraged by our off the rack department store-brand coats, but her smile seemed genuine.
"Welcome to Cartier's, may I help you?" she asked easily.
I was about to murmur, "just browsing," but then a thought occurred to me.
My bride of 25 years had been admiring some simple topaz rings of late. Why not benefit from the knowledge of an expert at Cartier's? We couldn't afford anything they'd have, but that's how you learned.
"We were hoping to see something in a topaz ring," I said cheerfully.
The genuine Cartier smile cracked just a little and the sales person said in a lower voice,
"Cartier's doesn't carry topaz."
Doh! A more worldly person would have known that you don't go to Cartier's for something as common as topaz.
Then, in a more conciliatory tone, she offered, "would you like to look at our blue sapphires instead?"
I was quickly dragged from the store by my mortified wife. She and my daughter and her finance had a good laugh at my expense - and I had a good laugh too. Honestly though, it wasn't the sales lady's fault - and she answered in a very fair, honest manner. Plus, she offered an alternative for me to consider, or not. Overall, no harm done!
Isn't that how some people wander into, and then out of, our churches - or even conversations of spiritual matters like salvation?
"I would like to see something of a god that has no defined moral standards"
"Can you show me something spiritual that will celebrate sin without consequence?"
"I'm looking for a consistent moral philosophy without mention of a higher power.. "
Like the lady at Cartier's, my helpful smile cracks a little when I have to say,
"We don't offer that in Christianity...but would you like see something in redemption and Grace, through Christ?"
It's so much more valuable than what they were looking for - and yet, some will turn away to look elsewhere. Unfortunately, and unfairly, they may even blame Christianity for not advocating what they want to believe.
Cartier's is an imperfect analogy of course. There is nothing exclusive or expensive about Christianity. All are welcome. Poor, rich, sinful, sad.
But we can't place things in the Christian showcase that don't belong there.
It's God who decides what He alone offers. He's catalogued it clearly in the Bible. If you're searching, why not window shop at a few local churches and ask the pastors to explain anything for which you have questions.
I'm still smiling over my encounter at Cartier's, maybe you'll have an even better story to tell.
What do you believe?
On a lark, I pushed through the door and walked into the brilliantly lit, glittering showroom.
Case after glass case of sparkling gems cascaded across the spacious, high ceilinged room.
"What are you doing?!" my wife whispered hurriedly. "We can't afford anything in here!"
"Relax," I smiled. "You're window shopping in Chicago, it can't hurt to browse the best."
She shrugged reluctantly, and we drifted toward the nearest display case.
Within seconds, an impeccably dressed sales person appeared behind the case and took stock of her prospects.
She couldn't have been too encouraged by our off the rack department store-brand coats, but her smile seemed genuine.
"Welcome to Cartier's, may I help you?" she asked easily.
I was about to murmur, "just browsing," but then a thought occurred to me.
My bride of 25 years had been admiring some simple topaz rings of late. Why not benefit from the knowledge of an expert at Cartier's? We couldn't afford anything they'd have, but that's how you learned.
"We were hoping to see something in a topaz ring," I said cheerfully.
The genuine Cartier smile cracked just a little and the sales person said in a lower voice,
"Cartier's doesn't carry topaz."
Doh! A more worldly person would have known that you don't go to Cartier's for something as common as topaz.
Then, in a more conciliatory tone, she offered, "would you like to look at our blue sapphires instead?"
I was quickly dragged from the store by my mortified wife. She and my daughter and her finance had a good laugh at my expense - and I had a good laugh too. Honestly though, it wasn't the sales lady's fault - and she answered in a very fair, honest manner. Plus, she offered an alternative for me to consider, or not. Overall, no harm done!
Isn't that how some people wander into, and then out of, our churches - or even conversations of spiritual matters like salvation?
"I would like to see something of a god that has no defined moral standards"
"Can you show me something spiritual that will celebrate sin without consequence?"
"I'm looking for a consistent moral philosophy without mention of a higher power.. "
Like the lady at Cartier's, my helpful smile cracks a little when I have to say,
"We don't offer that in Christianity...but would you like see something in redemption and Grace, through Christ?"
It's so much more valuable than what they were looking for - and yet, some will turn away to look elsewhere. Unfortunately, and unfairly, they may even blame Christianity for not advocating what they want to believe.
Cartier's is an imperfect analogy of course. There is nothing exclusive or expensive about Christianity. All are welcome. Poor, rich, sinful, sad.
But we can't place things in the Christian showcase that don't belong there.
It's God who decides what He alone offers. He's catalogued it clearly in the Bible. If you're searching, why not window shop at a few local churches and ask the pastors to explain anything for which you have questions.
I'm still smiling over my encounter at Cartier's, maybe you'll have an even better story to tell.
What do you believe?
Inventing a Universal Hybrid Religion
A stranger at our Christmas party offered me a fascinating spiritual insight.
I had been discussing spiritual matters with family members and we were comparing notes on various religious worldviews.
It was a very thoughtful and engaging conversation, though we did not agree on certain essentials.
For example, I believe we can enter into an eternal relationship with God through His Grace - His willingness to offer unconditional love and forgiveness, asking only that we believe on the name of His Son Jesus - who died on the cross to pay my sin penalty.
In that light, Christianity is a gift to receive, and not a prize to earn.
Others shared worldviews that were based on merit, or "works" that, if balanced heavier in the "good" over a lifetime would tilt a higher power's scales toward salvation. We also discussed the definition(s) of salvation.
And of course, another option was to believe in no god at all, and simply do good for good's sake.
Drawing clarity and distinction between the worldviews as we did made it easier to see that they are indeed different. You cannot believe one and then the other at the same time. We agreed that people have the right to choose their worldview, and we accept friends/family who believe differently than we do.
That's where the stranger spoke up. He did not subscribe to any of the particular spiritual beliefs we mentioned. In fact, he chafed at the notion of having to choose from our proposed alternatives.
"Why not take the things that you can all agree on and build from there?"
I hear and read that a lot. It's proposed by popular entertainers, bloggers, politicians and songwriters.
It has an innocent ring of neutrality and inclusiveness. Combine the "best" so we can all agree without division.
But who decides the "best?" That's the rub.
In the versions of this that I've come across, the best ideas are benign and universal. Do good, don't steal, don't kill and respect others.
But the same people who would include these concepts of good would also exclude anything uniquely spiritual. For example, you cannot name a god of any definition. Perhaps a personal and unnamed "higher power" could be invoked, but they say that begrudgingly and with the disparaging aside that "some people need that for comfort..."
In the end, what the stranger at our gathering proposed was simply to add a distinct and separate worldview. Call it the "greatest hits" worldview, combining what he liked best of other belief systems and excluding what he disliked. Most notably disliked, I surmised, was the accountability of a Living God.
The stranger, or anyone else, can call the greatest hits approach benign and neutral, but I believe it is a slippery slope. Sooner or later when you take away the Spiritual insights and guidance of a loving God, you end up making choices that are selfish and self-serving. Ironically, that's when the benign neutrality hurts somebody else.
You've a free choice subscribing to that worldview, but I don't recommend it.
What do you believe?
I had been discussing spiritual matters with family members and we were comparing notes on various religious worldviews.
It was a very thoughtful and engaging conversation, though we did not agree on certain essentials.
For example, I believe we can enter into an eternal relationship with God through His Grace - His willingness to offer unconditional love and forgiveness, asking only that we believe on the name of His Son Jesus - who died on the cross to pay my sin penalty.
In that light, Christianity is a gift to receive, and not a prize to earn.
Others shared worldviews that were based on merit, or "works" that, if balanced heavier in the "good" over a lifetime would tilt a higher power's scales toward salvation. We also discussed the definition(s) of salvation.
And of course, another option was to believe in no god at all, and simply do good for good's sake.
Drawing clarity and distinction between the worldviews as we did made it easier to see that they are indeed different. You cannot believe one and then the other at the same time. We agreed that people have the right to choose their worldview, and we accept friends/family who believe differently than we do.
That's where the stranger spoke up. He did not subscribe to any of the particular spiritual beliefs we mentioned. In fact, he chafed at the notion of having to choose from our proposed alternatives.
"Why not take the things that you can all agree on and build from there?"
I hear and read that a lot. It's proposed by popular entertainers, bloggers, politicians and songwriters.
It has an innocent ring of neutrality and inclusiveness. Combine the "best" so we can all agree without division.
But who decides the "best?" That's the rub.
In the versions of this that I've come across, the best ideas are benign and universal. Do good, don't steal, don't kill and respect others.
But the same people who would include these concepts of good would also exclude anything uniquely spiritual. For example, you cannot name a god of any definition. Perhaps a personal and unnamed "higher power" could be invoked, but they say that begrudgingly and with the disparaging aside that "some people need that for comfort..."
In the end, what the stranger at our gathering proposed was simply to add a distinct and separate worldview. Call it the "greatest hits" worldview, combining what he liked best of other belief systems and excluding what he disliked. Most notably disliked, I surmised, was the accountability of a Living God.
The stranger, or anyone else, can call the greatest hits approach benign and neutral, but I believe it is a slippery slope. Sooner or later when you take away the Spiritual insights and guidance of a loving God, you end up making choices that are selfish and self-serving. Ironically, that's when the benign neutrality hurts somebody else.
You've a free choice subscribing to that worldview, but I don't recommend it.
What do you believe?
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