Timeline:
Preaches repent
Invites disciples
Explains the kingdom of heaven
Speaks of cost to follow
Compares world to kingdom
Demonstrates justice, mercy & humility
Dies
Resurrects
Installs Holy Spirit
Opens eyes
Instigates church
Commissions us…
The Kingdom of Heaven is real. Jesus has invited us to it for now and later, not just later. It requires a complete change of approach to existence. This internal alteration with external evidence is possible only through trusting and relying on Jesus. It’s why so many people come to Christ or see their relationship with him redefined through impossibly tragic circumstances they cannot handle. The change effects every aspect of life: relationships, money, possessions, defining success, interpretation of all circumstances, what gets celebrated, how and where we live, everything.
I cannot hope to make this change without healing of my brokenness (instantly or over time). In fact, the healing and the change are the same process. This is not a matter of perspective, of figuring things out and thinking rightly. That is again sacrifice and burnt offering, rather than true mercy (Hosea 6:6) (loving God, others and myself), which can only come from the only pure source – He who created love. The healing is a death. As I let go of that which is damaged in me, my spirit comes alive by the entrance of the Spirit into those places I had been protecting. The new me comes more alive, the old me gets deader. I cannot follow a formula to make this happen. I cannot speed it up or control it in any way. Jesus alone is in charge of this process and he uses it for his kingdom as he sees fit. This is what my life on earth is for; for him, for coming fully alive. Becoming a full realization of his artwork in me. Reflecting the glory of God and taking unimaginable joy in knowing his love for me. Participating in the story he has written in the critical role he has made me for.
Jesus says, just as John did before him (Matt 3:2): “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near.” (Matt 4:17) In essence, change the way you have been living your life because there is a new way, and this one works. He goes on to describe, illustrate, allegorize, exemplify and discuss this new Way with and for everyone who has eyes to see and ears to hear, including me and you. He in fact is The Way (John 14:6). He says the new way is not about what you do any more, but about what you are. This refers to statements made by prophets and is one of the themes Christ returns to repeatedly. He wants mercy and not sacrifice, acknowledgement of God rather than burnt offerings (Hosea 6:6). If we knew what that meant, we would understand what God wants for us and from us (Matt 9:13, 12:7,). For example, “You have heard it said, do not murder and do not commit adultery, but what really matters is that you do not hate or lust in your heart (Matt 5: 21-30). This is either a lot harder or a lot easier. As the story of the Old Testament illustrates well, if one could not successfully fulfill the law and thereby receive personal connection to God and eternal reward, then how is one supposed to not only fulfill the law but keep our heart and mind pure as well? This can only be possible if the new way is made possible by the Way. Jesus does it. He fulfills the law (Matt 5: 17).
After beginning to preach repentance and Kingdom of Heaven dynamics, he invited men to follow him (Matt 4: 19-22) and have the focus of their lives changed from seeking gain from the world to seeking gain for the kingdom. He says he will change them from fishermen to fishers of men. They follow and listen as he explains the new kind of kingdom to anyone who will listen.
5: 1 – 12 The Kingdom of Heaven is for the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek and those who yearn for righteousness. I suspect he spoke of those who not only wanted to be righteous but who wanted to see righteousness in the world. The kingdom of God is for the merciful, the pure in heart and the peacemakers and for those persecuted for being righteous. He, conspicuously, does not mention those who have big houses, triple humped camels, positions of authority, college degrees, successful businesses, lots of resources, chiseled and tanned features, obedient children and great marriages, ministries with large numbers, titles, or significant influence on important people. He speaks of the unnoticed and non-glorious. He does not say rich, successful, powerful, attractive people are bad (more on that later), he just does not use them as examples of the beneficiaries of his kingdom. The blessing belongs to those who do not receive blessing from this world. Even further, if I am one of the blessed in the Kingdom of Heaven and the world treats me bad, I should rejoice and be glad because my reward is even greater! So – bad in the world, is good in heaven, and the worse it is here, the better it is there.
13 – 16 Along with this paradigm shift comes Jesus’ specific instruction to be what he has made us to be. We are salt – so be flavorful. We are the light of the world – so we need to position ourselves where we can eliminate as much darkness as possible. This is not some great effort on our part, it is just being what God has made us to be by his design. There really is no room for twisting this into a suggestion to be applied in unusual or infrequent circumstances. He is saying that the difference between the world and us IS so significant that it is impossible not to notice. The only way it can be hidden is by our own intention. We actually have to try to be bland. We have to hold back our light. Unfortunately, the ingenious, insidious nature of fallen man, with great effort and much help from the enemy, has succeeded in this undertaking with enormous and tragic results. Even those of us who are the light mostly walk in darkness.
It is in the true meaning of all the known commandments; in a new understanding of them that this kingdom is described. It is a kingdom that is established in our hearts and has no boundaries except those we set up by holding back from God. Our participation in this kingdom changes the way we think of others and how we act in relationship to them. It no longer matters what is fair and just according to the world. We relate according to what is fair and just according to God. Since he is just, he asks that we trust him for fairness rather than seeking it out for ourselves. We are to make ourselves vulnerable to pain from this world, emulating his example. The sacrifice of ourselves, by the power of his love, according to true justice, is what draws the world to Jesus. Those whose hearts are soft towards God will recognize him in us and their desire for him will be unquenchable. The opportunity to participate in the process of drawing people into the kingdom is a fundamental reason for our existence. It is in the mundane, daily encounters, repeated over and over to make relationships, that this glory reveals itself. It cannot be reduced or packaged into a system or a strategy with time lines and boundaries. It comes from and is empowered and completed by God
Apparently, the kingdom he is ruling is not visible to the eyes in our head, audible to our ears, or noticeable to our noses, our tongues or the tips of our fingers. It is an invitation extended to that part of us which is eternal, our spirit, the most authentic and holy part of ourselves. He is inviting us to allow him to separate us from that which separates us from God, our flesh. All that has been ruined and broken is to be left behind.
It’s what he quotes from Isaiah 61 the first time he speaks in the temple (Luke 4: 18), “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning and a garment of praise instead of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”
He sits down. Everyone is staring at him, expectantly… “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
Do we suppose that he only meant the people in that room? Was he not speaking to all creation; time and space irrelevant?
He sends his disciples out with the same message “The kingdom of heaven is near” (Matt 10:7).
He preaches it in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5:3-12). It is as if we have finally been given a chance, an opportunity we can take hold of. Since the departure from the Garden of Eden, there has been no way to come close to God, no way to return to where we were before the error of distrust and self-reliance.
The greatest commandment – Mark 12:28 – 34s
The kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of God are interchangeable. He allowed us our effort. He let us try it our own way. We followed the liar and lived in his kingdom, foolishly. We trusted in ourselves because the enemy told us we could. He neglected to tell us that just because we could didn’t mean we should. We have destroyed the creation, ruined it beyond our capacity to fix – including ourselves. God grew weary of our pain and our separateness from him because he wanted us as his bride. So he brought us back to his love by humbling himself and paying the just price (Micah 6:8) with his own pure, glorious, eternal life. He has now established his rule in our hearts. We can receive all that he has for us and be all he wants us to be by resisting no more. Giving up the fruit of this world, the rotten fruit, we can now pick up the ripe, satisfying, jewel like fruit of heaven.
There is more. There is and will always be, so much more…
Friday, February 18, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Penny Rescue
Fuzzy black edges of his field of vision switched places back and forth. The diminutive, darting winged critters flew too fast through confusing scenes of toys, tools and topiary, blending and blurring past reflections of trees and vertical lines of window frames.
“Damn bird,” said he, “find a branch and sit.”
Muttering and sighing absently, Arthur moved uselessly to another window and pushed between the curtains. The yellow rumped warbler is a little rare in town but bayberry bushes in the thin soil of the park drew these adventurous few from the woods outside town. Hoping that fleeting glances would turn into a moment of study, he watched to see if a tiny twerp would just-sit-still on his bitty little butter butt. Losing it again for the umpteenth time, he scanned the sidewalk in front of the drug store on Main Street. From his third floor apartment windows, he could see every storefront, shrub, bench, tree and crack in the sidewalk from Fourth to Sixth Avenue and through the park to First Street.
Distracted scratching and odors of oldness marked dreary days endlessly repeating themselves while he watched out the window for… birds. Not rare necessarily but real, alive and out rather than in. Notes and sketches in bent cornered hardbound journals marked the adventures of his birds. Songs he whistled while he waited minded the musings he kept shallow, avoiding too much contemplation.
Through the ovalized view from his bird watching Bushnell’s, an unfolding scene on the street below distracted him from his aviary pursuit. On the sidewalk bench in front of Jersey’s Drug Store sat a sweet and scruffy little girl in a wrinkled yellow cotton dress and a left-footed cast. All of five years old, she watched intently as a slightly larger red headed boy in jean cut offs and a dirty white tee shirt scrabbled around the sewer grate by the curb. What was he doing?
The red-headed boy focused intently on his mission. So intent, he did not notice the fire truck that parked in the street a mere two blocks East. The little lame girl watched with a matching but hopeful intensity; not talking, just watching with a slight forward lean – trusting, worried, hoping.
Hopping around on all fours, he looked like a little monkey; quick, urgent movements and searching un-expectant glances at passers by. Even the cacophony of the siren blast from up the street could not deter his efforts for more than a glance. He flopped down on his front side in the street over the grill and reached between the steel bars of the grating in the curb. His feet stretched and twitched and his arm and shoulder disappeared into the hole.
Captivated and warbler rump fully forgotten, Arthur’s breathing slowed while he watched. Much more alive than birds, this boy and his mission deserved some attention. Why was he wallowing in the street? The girl called out something, a question, but the boy’s answer was lost in the dark. Finally, he squeezed out and propped himself on skinny knees. He then fell to vigorously scratching his head with both hands. Hands clasped behind his head, chin on his chest, he stilled in a prayer like posture.
He raised his head, looked at the girl and began to slowly lift his shoulders and arms in defeat. In mid shrug, he suddenly jumped up and scampered across the sidewalk, nearly crashing with a brisk woman in a matching plum colored skirt, jacket and hat. Fashion lady reached out and steadied her tippy high-heeled ensemble but continued on, just like all the other adults, oblivious through their drama. Waving arms animatedly, the boy gestured back toward the sewer grate while he explained a new strategy. She watched him, spoke quietly and reached up to untie the ribbon in her hair. Next she leaned forward and spit her gum into his outstretched, grimy hand. Jittery on his feet, he took both and turned back to his battlefield. He froze mid turn as he saw and realized the catastrophe happing up the street.
Arthur swung his binoculars and took in the impending disaster. A fire cadet held up traffic as a slow holder while his partners opened the fire hydrant in front of the consignment shop. Surrounding kids hopped up and down in anticipation of cold water as relief on a hot August day. A look of terror transformed the boy’s freckled face into wide eyes and clenched teeth. He rushed to the grate and bent to his task. Knotting the end of the ribbon, he stuck the sticky gum to it and tested its adherence by bouncing it a bit, away from the sewer grate. It stuck tight.
Fireman wrestled with the hydrant while Arthur wrestled with his hesitation. Finally, consumed by curiosity and compassion, he hustled determinedly to the hall closet, grabbed an armload of towels and headed out the door. Down two flights of stairs on wobbly joints, he emerged on the scene from across the street.
Walking gingerly to the boys side, he asked, “Did you lose something important down there?”
Intensely focused, the boy said without looking up, “Ain’t lost, just dropped.”
“What’s dropped?” Arthur asked.
“Penny” said the boy.
“A penny?” Arthur repeated with a hint of incredulity.
“Mhmm.” Says the boy with his forehead pressed against the steel bars.
“Hmm.” Says Arthur standing there with an armload of towels.
Not knowing quite what to do, Arthur turns toward the firemen and jerks like he’d been shocked. Just at that moment, they had successfully uncorked the hydrant. Water and children were streaming into the street accompanied by spraying mist and gleeful screams. In moments, water would be rushing down the street to the site of the dropped penny.
“Hurry up boy!” Arthur bellowed too loudly, “hurry up, it’s comin’!
“I got it, I got it!” Chirped the boy as he started to push himself up with one hand.
The messy haired girl in the cast clapped and squealed, “Yay Jimmy, yay, yay, yay! Jimmy’s the best bruver in the worl…”
Cut off, mid-sentence, Arthur saw her crestfallen face and turned to a horrified Jimmy holding the end of a ribbon attached to a dirty piece of gum and no penny.
“It fell off.” Jimmy said in a flat, clenched voice.
He turned and looked up the street. Water was cresting at the outskirts of the gushing, splashing torrent and moving toward the edges of the road. He looked up at Arthur and his towels and dove back to the sewer grate with his ribbon.
The girl bounced on her bench and Arthur bent to the task of dam building. He stacked the towels against the curb a few feet from the sewer grate, right behind Jimmy’s feet. A tenuous blockade against hundreds of gallons; the towels alone would not provide enough resistance to the weight of rushing water.
“This’ll never work,” he muttered with his hands on his hips.
Arthur watched it come. He stared it down as it gained on the helpless situation. The girl leaned forward and Jimmy was silent with concentration as his effort took on a strained panic.
Standing on the sidewalk, Arthur knew his towels would be swept away. The water was less than fifty feet. Jimmy was still face down with his cheek pressed to the grate and his right hand repeating a careful, methodical raising, then lowering of his gum and ribbon crane. Looking back and forth, Arthur sat down in the street on the other side of the towels with his back against the curb. He looked at the wide-eyed girl. They stared meaningfully at each other. He stared at Jimmy. Jimmy paused and turned his head just a little to see Arthur and his towels in defensive positions. A grim look of determination crept quickly into his eyes as he turned them again to his task.
Time slowed. Noise quieted. An intense stillness overtook Arthur and the girl as they watch Jimmy. He stiffened and paused imperceptibly, ribbon slack. He wiggled it gently and then lifted. His whole body tensed with controlled effort as, slowly, slowly he drew the ribbon up through the steel grate. A low wall of water crashed against Arthur’s hips and outstretched legs. He bent to hold the outermost towels down against the asphalt while water surrounded him. The torrent splashed against, over and around him, instantly saturating the towels. Drops and spray hung suspended in the hot air. Only moments and the resistance would be overcome. The ribbon grew longer as it emerged from the sewer. At the confluence of hydrant water and storm sewer, Jimmy stilled for just a minute, eternal moment, then, right arm extended up over his head, he grabbed gum and penny with his left hand and rolled away from the grate. Water erupted around Jimmy and Arthur, both laying in the street, thrashing about in four legged, four armed exuberance.
“Yeeehoooo,” Jimmy yelled shrilly at the top of his lungs, “I got it, I got it, I got it!”
“Yay Jimmy, yippee, yay, yay, yay!” Squealed the girl again and again, waving her arms and wriggling on her bench.
Arthur laughed and sputtered mirthfully, “Good work Jimmy. Well done, very well done!”
Jimmy and Arthur hauled themselves out of the street. Authur retrieved his sodden towels before they were swept down the drain. Jimmy clutched the rescued penny and gave the ribbon back to the girl. For a moment, they stood in shocked, happy disbelief.
Jimmy looked up at Arthur, “Thanks mister,” he said. Then he turned and walked into the drug store.
Arthur, dripping heavily, walked slowly and stiffly over to the bench and looked down at the little happy girl. “Hi, I’m Arthur, what’s your name?”
“Claudia,” said the girl with a shy smile while she twisted the ribbon.
“What happened to your leg, Claudia?” Arthur asked.
“I hurt it trying to ride Jimmy’s bike,” said Claudia with a pouty frown and an adorably impertinent drop of her chin to her chest.
“What was so important about that penny?” Arthur asked.
Before she could answer, Jimmy emerged from the store with a YooHoo and two straws in his hand. “Claud loves YooHoos,” he said proudly, “and we didn’t have enough without that penny.”
Arthur smiled with his eyes and shook his head slowly. “Every little bit counts,” he said.
“Damn bird,” said he, “find a branch and sit.”
Muttering and sighing absently, Arthur moved uselessly to another window and pushed between the curtains. The yellow rumped warbler is a little rare in town but bayberry bushes in the thin soil of the park drew these adventurous few from the woods outside town. Hoping that fleeting glances would turn into a moment of study, he watched to see if a tiny twerp would just-sit-still on his bitty little butter butt. Losing it again for the umpteenth time, he scanned the sidewalk in front of the drug store on Main Street. From his third floor apartment windows, he could see every storefront, shrub, bench, tree and crack in the sidewalk from Fourth to Sixth Avenue and through the park to First Street.
Distracted scratching and odors of oldness marked dreary days endlessly repeating themselves while he watched out the window for… birds. Not rare necessarily but real, alive and out rather than in. Notes and sketches in bent cornered hardbound journals marked the adventures of his birds. Songs he whistled while he waited minded the musings he kept shallow, avoiding too much contemplation.
Through the ovalized view from his bird watching Bushnell’s, an unfolding scene on the street below distracted him from his aviary pursuit. On the sidewalk bench in front of Jersey’s Drug Store sat a sweet and scruffy little girl in a wrinkled yellow cotton dress and a left-footed cast. All of five years old, she watched intently as a slightly larger red headed boy in jean cut offs and a dirty white tee shirt scrabbled around the sewer grate by the curb. What was he doing?
The red-headed boy focused intently on his mission. So intent, he did not notice the fire truck that parked in the street a mere two blocks East. The little lame girl watched with a matching but hopeful intensity; not talking, just watching with a slight forward lean – trusting, worried, hoping.
Hopping around on all fours, he looked like a little monkey; quick, urgent movements and searching un-expectant glances at passers by. Even the cacophony of the siren blast from up the street could not deter his efforts for more than a glance. He flopped down on his front side in the street over the grill and reached between the steel bars of the grating in the curb. His feet stretched and twitched and his arm and shoulder disappeared into the hole.
Captivated and warbler rump fully forgotten, Arthur’s breathing slowed while he watched. Much more alive than birds, this boy and his mission deserved some attention. Why was he wallowing in the street? The girl called out something, a question, but the boy’s answer was lost in the dark. Finally, he squeezed out and propped himself on skinny knees. He then fell to vigorously scratching his head with both hands. Hands clasped behind his head, chin on his chest, he stilled in a prayer like posture.
He raised his head, looked at the girl and began to slowly lift his shoulders and arms in defeat. In mid shrug, he suddenly jumped up and scampered across the sidewalk, nearly crashing with a brisk woman in a matching plum colored skirt, jacket and hat. Fashion lady reached out and steadied her tippy high-heeled ensemble but continued on, just like all the other adults, oblivious through their drama. Waving arms animatedly, the boy gestured back toward the sewer grate while he explained a new strategy. She watched him, spoke quietly and reached up to untie the ribbon in her hair. Next she leaned forward and spit her gum into his outstretched, grimy hand. Jittery on his feet, he took both and turned back to his battlefield. He froze mid turn as he saw and realized the catastrophe happing up the street.
Arthur swung his binoculars and took in the impending disaster. A fire cadet held up traffic as a slow holder while his partners opened the fire hydrant in front of the consignment shop. Surrounding kids hopped up and down in anticipation of cold water as relief on a hot August day. A look of terror transformed the boy’s freckled face into wide eyes and clenched teeth. He rushed to the grate and bent to his task. Knotting the end of the ribbon, he stuck the sticky gum to it and tested its adherence by bouncing it a bit, away from the sewer grate. It stuck tight.
Fireman wrestled with the hydrant while Arthur wrestled with his hesitation. Finally, consumed by curiosity and compassion, he hustled determinedly to the hall closet, grabbed an armload of towels and headed out the door. Down two flights of stairs on wobbly joints, he emerged on the scene from across the street.
Walking gingerly to the boys side, he asked, “Did you lose something important down there?”
Intensely focused, the boy said without looking up, “Ain’t lost, just dropped.”
“What’s dropped?” Arthur asked.
“Penny” said the boy.
“A penny?” Arthur repeated with a hint of incredulity.
“Mhmm.” Says the boy with his forehead pressed against the steel bars.
“Hmm.” Says Arthur standing there with an armload of towels.
Not knowing quite what to do, Arthur turns toward the firemen and jerks like he’d been shocked. Just at that moment, they had successfully uncorked the hydrant. Water and children were streaming into the street accompanied by spraying mist and gleeful screams. In moments, water would be rushing down the street to the site of the dropped penny.
“Hurry up boy!” Arthur bellowed too loudly, “hurry up, it’s comin’!
“I got it, I got it!” Chirped the boy as he started to push himself up with one hand.
The messy haired girl in the cast clapped and squealed, “Yay Jimmy, yay, yay, yay! Jimmy’s the best bruver in the worl…”
Cut off, mid-sentence, Arthur saw her crestfallen face and turned to a horrified Jimmy holding the end of a ribbon attached to a dirty piece of gum and no penny.
“It fell off.” Jimmy said in a flat, clenched voice.
He turned and looked up the street. Water was cresting at the outskirts of the gushing, splashing torrent and moving toward the edges of the road. He looked up at Arthur and his towels and dove back to the sewer grate with his ribbon.
The girl bounced on her bench and Arthur bent to the task of dam building. He stacked the towels against the curb a few feet from the sewer grate, right behind Jimmy’s feet. A tenuous blockade against hundreds of gallons; the towels alone would not provide enough resistance to the weight of rushing water.
“This’ll never work,” he muttered with his hands on his hips.
Arthur watched it come. He stared it down as it gained on the helpless situation. The girl leaned forward and Jimmy was silent with concentration as his effort took on a strained panic.
Standing on the sidewalk, Arthur knew his towels would be swept away. The water was less than fifty feet. Jimmy was still face down with his cheek pressed to the grate and his right hand repeating a careful, methodical raising, then lowering of his gum and ribbon crane. Looking back and forth, Arthur sat down in the street on the other side of the towels with his back against the curb. He looked at the wide-eyed girl. They stared meaningfully at each other. He stared at Jimmy. Jimmy paused and turned his head just a little to see Arthur and his towels in defensive positions. A grim look of determination crept quickly into his eyes as he turned them again to his task.
Time slowed. Noise quieted. An intense stillness overtook Arthur and the girl as they watch Jimmy. He stiffened and paused imperceptibly, ribbon slack. He wiggled it gently and then lifted. His whole body tensed with controlled effort as, slowly, slowly he drew the ribbon up through the steel grate. A low wall of water crashed against Arthur’s hips and outstretched legs. He bent to hold the outermost towels down against the asphalt while water surrounded him. The torrent splashed against, over and around him, instantly saturating the towels. Drops and spray hung suspended in the hot air. Only moments and the resistance would be overcome. The ribbon grew longer as it emerged from the sewer. At the confluence of hydrant water and storm sewer, Jimmy stilled for just a minute, eternal moment, then, right arm extended up over his head, he grabbed gum and penny with his left hand and rolled away from the grate. Water erupted around Jimmy and Arthur, both laying in the street, thrashing about in four legged, four armed exuberance.
“Yeeehoooo,” Jimmy yelled shrilly at the top of his lungs, “I got it, I got it, I got it!”
“Yay Jimmy, yippee, yay, yay, yay!” Squealed the girl again and again, waving her arms and wriggling on her bench.
Arthur laughed and sputtered mirthfully, “Good work Jimmy. Well done, very well done!”
Jimmy and Arthur hauled themselves out of the street. Authur retrieved his sodden towels before they were swept down the drain. Jimmy clutched the rescued penny and gave the ribbon back to the girl. For a moment, they stood in shocked, happy disbelief.
Jimmy looked up at Arthur, “Thanks mister,” he said. Then he turned and walked into the drug store.
Arthur, dripping heavily, walked slowly and stiffly over to the bench and looked down at the little happy girl. “Hi, I’m Arthur, what’s your name?”
“Claudia,” said the girl with a shy smile while she twisted the ribbon.
“What happened to your leg, Claudia?” Arthur asked.
“I hurt it trying to ride Jimmy’s bike,” said Claudia with a pouty frown and an adorably impertinent drop of her chin to her chest.
“What was so important about that penny?” Arthur asked.
Before she could answer, Jimmy emerged from the store with a YooHoo and two straws in his hand. “Claud loves YooHoos,” he said proudly, “and we didn’t have enough without that penny.”
Arthur smiled with his eyes and shook his head slowly. “Every little bit counts,” he said.
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