The Other Side of the Coin

"But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for those are opposed to each other to keep you from doing the things you want to do."

Galatians 5:16-17

I want to tell you about one of the greatest literary villains of all time. Once a champion of good, but tormented and twisted into a thing of evil. Harvey "Two-Face" Dent. Raised by an abusive, alcoholic father, who would toss his lucky two-headed coin to determine whether to punish or spare his young son.  In spite of the background, Harvey grew up to be a fine upstanding young man, eventually becoming District Attorney of Gotham City, prosecuting evil criminals in the courts, working closely with both Batman and Commissioner Gordon. During the trial of a Mob Boss, acid was flung at him in the courtroom, burning the left side of his face, creating such torment that the evil nature his father had instilled in him finally found voice. From that point on, both evil and good struggled within him, often to the point that he would flip his father's coin (one side scratched off) to determine yes or no, right or wrong, life or death.

Pretty awesome for a comic book, right? But unlike Jekyll/Hyde (which inspired Bob Kane's creation) the torment was continual. Mr. Hyde would be there sometimes, Dr. Jekyll others. Two Face was both at all times. Both sides in continual battle for the soul.

It is the same with us. Evil and Good constantly at war within each of us. Each of us capable of saintly charity or satanic vice. And we must choose between them, but no coin can decide this outcome. The Spirit of God is always there, always waiting on our choice, but so often we don't choose Him. We fall. We fail. You would assume that would be our end. Yet over and over God's grace is greater than our sin. Relentlessly He continues to pursue us, fight for us, waiting to be our choice. It is a continual struggle. Daily, hourly, sometimes minute by minute, we must choose to follow Him. Yet even when we don't...

"I will never leave you or forsake you. Hebrews 13:5

"Neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our LORD." Romans 8:38-39

And one of the best...

"The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, His mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:20-23

The struggle is real. Life or Death in the balance. Heads or Tails.

We have only to choose.

Love and Obsession

     I listen to a lot of audio books on my commute from and to work – I mean a lot! About 21/2 hours a day is spent going back and forth, and these books lead me to some semblance of sanity. Which is helpful since I have so little to begin with…sanity, that is.

     My current travel companion is by writer Patti Callahan, “Becoming Mrs. Lewis”. It is a novelized account of Joy Davidman and her friendship, then love, to writer C. S. Lewis. As I near the end of the book, and the cancer that takes her life, it is becoming bittersweet, in a “Love Story, Lifetime Movie” kind of way. Nevertheless, an excellent book I recommend.

     There is a scene in the book where she and Lewis are going over ideas for the book to become “When We Have Faces”, Lewis’ take on the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche. At one point, discussing why it was tragic, Lewis said “When love becomes a god, it becomes a devil.” The idea being that any love to obsession turns from love to possession and corrupts the soul. Think of it this way. All that exists in this world God created and called “good”. It has never stopped being so. The overindulgence of those things taken or done in the wrong way leads to obsession and addiction. That love, given the highest place in our heart which should be God’s, has instead become a devil.

     The bible is full of references to this. 

“You cannot be a slave of two masters” (MT. 6:24) 

“If you love the world you cannot love the Father” (1 Jn. 2:15) 

“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt. 6:21) 

     and of course the BIG ONE 

“Thou shalt have no other gods before me” (Deut. 5:6). 

     The jist of it is, true love to God requires total sacrifice, but total sacrifice to anyone or anything other than God cannot co-exist with Him.

     Total sacrifice to anything other than God becomes a confinement. A slavish obsession to more and more rules and regulations trying to please, until we cannot move for fear of rebuke, or scorn, or worst, a withdrawal of love. So, are we to all be celibate, self-flagellating little monkeys in a cage, released only to show our failures and punished by a harsh task master? NOT IN THE LEAST!

     Total surrender to God becomes freedom and release from slavery. Rather than forced servitude, we have joyful obedience coming from God’s love rather than our failure. Since it comes from God’s love and is carried out by God’s strength, then we are free to give ourselves to others fully, because we are NEVER without His Love. “I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Heb. 13:5) It’s the ultimate covering of protection. We cannot run so far, fall so deep, or hide so well, that God does not always see us. And always love us.

     So guard your heart, my friends. Be guided by God’s love in you. Even in hurt and pain, which comes to all, you are loved. Remember, He also totally sacrificed for you. He is “all in”, just for you. Rest in His love, His freedom, His Joy.

     I think my next book will be “When We Have Faces”. Probably not an audio book, though. C.S. Lewis can be deep sometimes, and I’d probably crash trying to use a highlighter on the car stereo.

Depth of Mercy - Charles Wesley, 1740

     I have this odd thing I do (well, one of many, but never mind that), I enjoy reading old hymnals. I love to gather the wisdom of the musicians and lyricists as they try to give tone and rhythm and understanding to the life of Christ and the life IN Christ. I ran across this Charles Wesley lyric just today, and thought this a beautiful picture of us in Him.

Depth of Mercy
Depth of mercy! Can there be mercy still reserved for me? Can my God His wrath forbear, me the chief of sinners, spare?

I have long withstood His grace, long provoked Him to His face, would not hearken to His calls, grieved Him by a thousand falls.

I my Master have denied, I afresh have crucified, oft profaned His hallowed name, put Him to an open shame.

There for me the Savior stands, shows His wounds and spreads His hands. God is love! I know, I feel; Jesus weeps and loves me still.

Now incline me to repent, let me now my sins lament, now my foul revolt deplore, weep, believe, and sin no more.

     It is incredible to me, and yet I am as guilty and more, that we can be the recipients of such mercy and grace, and still act the way we do. I can speak only for myself, but I know the darkness that I see in me. It is there, covered only by a thin layer of whitewash. And even with what I see, I know that God knows the depths of my sin even better than I do. How I can stand at even the mention of His name is beyond my comprehension. And yet, even knowing me as He alone can, there is mercy and grace even greater than all my sin, than all the sins of all the world from the beginning of time till eternity. 

     Read those last two lines of the song again. Romans states this fact of grace abounding over and over, just for the asking. There is nothing that can separate us from God's love. He is always there, never leaving or forsaking, even now at our sides. We need only to look and see and believe. As to the sin no more, no one save Jesus Himself ever achieved that. That is why it is so amazing that WHEN we fall (as we will) His grace is still sufficient and more. God is love! I know, I feel; Jesus weeps and loves me still. Praise His Holy Name.

The Bride

     Author’s note: I experienced two events in the last couple of weeks. One was watching on web cam a Koinonia Reunion Concert on Facebook, honoring the recent historical marker placed on 16^th Avenue. Koinonia was an incredible place, whose sole purpose was to bring God’s light and love into the world. The very next day while coming back to my car in a store parking lot, I saw a glossy paged magazine printed by the Tony Alamo Foundation placed under the windshield wiper. Just seeing again the name of this vile false prophet made me sick to my stomach, and sick that our current world situation even allows his kind of hatred to crawl out from under the rocks, even after his death. The dichotomy of these two events has prompted the post below.

As to the directness of its language, I recall being told when much younger in the Lord that I had the soul of a prophet…and about as much tact. (They were always getting thrown into pits, dungeons, lion’s dens and the like. Never invited to the best dinner parties.) That being said, read on.  MDM

Lamentations is one very sad book. The prophet Jeremiah pours out his soul for Jerusalem, for her loss. It is the mother of all broken-hearted sobs. Spilling out of him like a soap opera actor on steroids. All is desolation. And then, out of nowhere it seems, in chapter 3 he says…

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness.”  Lamentations 3:21-23 (ESV)

The church today, at least in America, is under tremendous turmoil. It is a turmoil of her own making. The Bride of Christ has become soiled, deflowered. She has become a prostitute in the hopes and dreams of power. She has traded in her robe and veil for clubs and guns and signs and swastikas. Such vile hatred spews from the mouths of God’s children, in all forms of media. They are no longer the love of Christ on this earth, but seek to be an avenging angel, not for the freedom of salvation, but to enslave others in chains. Dear Church, Jesus does not need an avenger. We are strictly forbidden from being so. Romans 12:19 says…

Beloved, never avenge yourself, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written ’Vengeance is mine, I will repay says the Lord’” (also Deut. 32:35) (ESV)

And further in verse 20…

“To the contrary, if your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.” (ESV)

When is the last Facebook post you saw recommending that?

Read Lamentations through. It was not only for that day and time, but will be for us soon. Even now we see it at the door. But there is an answer. Just as in Lamentations, there is a hope. It won’t come from left or right or party or government or laws, but from Jesus, the Beloved, the Bridegroom.

“If my people, who are called by my name, humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14 (ESV)

Note a couple of things. This has nothing to do with changing a government, or laws, or even about anyone other than ourselves.

“If my people…humble themselves…pray…seek my face…turn...”

THEN…

“I will hear…will forgive…and heal” (Emphasis mine)

We, the Bride, must become humble, lose the arrogance that seems to be so prevalent.

Pray, not at but for others, and ask forgiveness for ourselves.

Seek His face, for when looking at Him, no thoughts of control and hate and fear can abide.

Turn, don’t just say fine words to God then spew filth and hate at your brother and sister. Walk the walk.

Then, and only then, is there hope. It is up to you, Bride. Return to your Beloved and be clean again. Only you can. There is no other.

Repost...But one of mine!

In honor of opening week of one of my favorite sports!

My First Day of Baseball

     For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been able to outdo my brother. He’s always been able to “one up” me in anything I’ve attempted. Don’t get me wrong, I love my big brother. It’s just that I wanted to be as good as he was, and never quite seemed to get there.

     He was born first. (Older by 11 years.) He made better grades in High School. (Without ever bringing home a book.) He played in the High School band, and was STILL popular. (My popularity extended only to playing for others in talent shows, then dissolving into the forgotten, faceless crowd.)

     But most of all, my brother excelled at sports. Any sport. Any time. Always ready. And his favorite was BASEBALL.  He could hit, he could catch, he could throw better than anyone else I knew. Sandlot, High School, Church Team, College, it didn’t matter. This was his “best of the best” sport. And I wanted to be just like him.

     So when a chance came to try out for a youth league BASEBALL team, I knew I had to do it. I went over all the reasons with my mom and dad, over and over, to get them to let me try. I was old enough, I said. I got good enough grades, I said. I could still do my chores around the house, I said. And my crowning argument? You let Gary, I said.

     Finally succumbing to my near flawless debating technique (Gary was a little better.), it was agreed that I would attend the tryouts. And best of all, Gary would take me there. I don’t even remember the ride down, I was so excited. Not only was I going to play BASEBALL (I knew the tryouts were in the bag.) but I was going to show Gary I could do something that he could do and he would be so proud of me never mind 11 years we would be close just like brothers should be never mind he started college when I started first grade we were brothers and he could finally be proud!

     When we got there, Gary pulled his car into a dirt parking spot facing the field, near home plate. Awesome, I thought, he’ll be able to see me. He’ll see me make the team. I jumped out, glove in hand, and ran to the dugout to the nearest adult I could find, and told him I wanted to try out for the team.

     As it happens, we had gotten there after the tryouts had started, and they had already done some fielding, so he sent me to grab a bat, and try my hitting. That was fine with me; my fielding wasn’t my best ability. I had this unfortunate habit of reacting just a bit slow, so I caught about an equal number of balls with my face as my glove. But I was much better with hitting. This was my time, I would show them right here. I’d hit that ball so far, they’d have to take me. And it would all happen right in front of Gary.

     I had always been a scrawny kid, so they must have felt they needed to take it easy on me. For whatever reason, that first pitch was the most beautiful pitch my young years had ever seen. (Or have seen since.) I still picture that moment in my head in slow motion, my form reaching a level of perfection it had never risen to before, feeling the power of connection, then seeing the ball fly from the bat. I had a hit! To my mind it was the greatest hit in the history of youth league BASEBALL tryouts. Soaring out, making it almost all the way to the outfield. And Gary had seen it.

     After a second’s hesitation, to bask in my history making moment, I began to run for all I was worth. As I rounded third, I saw that my soon-to-be team mate’s joy was equal to my own. Even though I put my all into running, I could still see from the corner of my eyes them laughing and cheering me on. I was not only going to be on the team, I would be its star. Oh, life was good!

     As I rounded second, it seemed the joyous enthusiasm of my team continued to increase. Some were so happy with my talent; they were even rolling in the grass, unable to speak, for the joy of obtaining their new team leader. I would be a gracious leader as well, always offering to help those not as capable as myself. I looked towards the car for Gary, but I couldn’t see him. Could he have walked off, without seeing my greatest triumph? No matter, over my years in school, college, then the pros, he would have plenty of opportunity to see me shine.

     As I rounded first, it began to strike me as odd that no one had made an attempt to get the ball, now resting comfortably in the grass next to the nearly comatose shortstop. Had I so overwhelmed them, they had given up even trying? No, no, this was too much. I would have to remember to hold back my considerable talent, so that no one would feel they didn’t measure up. And where was Gary? I can’t believe he didn’t see this adulation for his little brother.

     As my feet finally reached that sacred diamond of whitened rubber, several realizations hit me at once. First, that the joy around me seemed excessive, even for such a glorious hit. Second, that I could see Gary, or at least his head, actually just the top of his head, from behind his steering wheel. Third, as the coach was approaching me, I was suddenly less confident if the order of bases was supposed to be 3^rd, 2^nd, 1^st, home…or 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd, home. The coach, catching his breath between words, confirmed the correct order.

     I went over to the dugout, picked up my glove, and walked with the gait of a man being led to his execution to my brother’s car. I opened the passenger door, slunk inside and, very quietly, we went home. I went in my room, put away my glove, and didn’t pick it up again.

     Well, that’s not actually right. There’s something about BASEBALL that keeps drawing a person in. Maybe it’s the fact that anyone can play, yet no one ever completely masters it. It is a game where the entire team becomes a band of brothers, fighting together for the win, yet can be determined by one bat, one pitch, one catch. Ruthlessly fair, it is 9 innings of true competition, to which you give your all, you have no other choice, and would have it no other way. You see, my brother was right about something else too. BASEBALL is the best.

Sharing a blog from Sherry

     A few years ago, I had the privilege of meeting the then pastor of the church I grew up in, St. John's United Methodist Church. Sherry Cothran Woolsey welcomed myself and our group X-ALT!, and is a dear friend, excellent singer/songwriter, insightful pastor, and as will be seen, awesome blogger as well. I've asked her permission to re post her most recent blog, and you can see much more on her website at http://www.sherrycothran.com. Enjoy!

The Songs of Bible Women & Why They Change the World

When we think about the Bible, we don’t often think of the beauty and power of songs, especially by women. They aren’t sung loudly over edgy guitar riffs or punctuated by trance inducing beats. They’re not delivered to us via Youtube by stylish singers in trendy clothes. But if we go searching for them, we find that songs are a big deal in the Bible, and though they may not make it to the top 40 Billboard charts, they are some of the most powerful tools we have for claiming a new world order. One in which the hungry are fed, the weak are made strong, the oppressed are set free and the lion lies down with the lamb. A world in which swords are turned into plow shares.

If I were to get a hook out of the songs of Hannah, Deborah and Mary it would be this: God has done the impossible again, should we be surprised?

Though there are nearly two hundred songs in the Bible, some of the most powerful ones are created by these three women.

What makes them so special?

They teach us how to sing our faith into existence by envisioning God’s action in a song, it’s classically known as praise. But the word itself is deceiving. It brings to mind joy, beauty, ease or happiness. But their songs of praise tell us a different story. Praise is hard. That’s what makes it so powerful. These women do the gritty, scrappy, world ordering work of praise in their songs, and it’s what makes them world changing.

Praise is hard because it must be uttered over and against evidence that points to the contrary. It’s much easier to believe the evidence that the world is a horrible place than to speak the good news that it is not.

To praise God in a world in which violent hate crimes seem to rule the daily news, where children become targets just for attending school, where women are sold every day into sex trafficking, even in our own backyard, is a radical act. But that’s exactly what faith is, praising God in adverse conditions. This is how the world is changed. Channeling the love of God over and against the reality in which we live. That’s exactly why it’s crucial. Because praise not only heals us, it heals the world, too.

The women of the Bible who sang God’s powerful and healing love into the world weren’t the product of warm, fuzzy, comfortable societies. They were scrappy and lived in a culture that often held them to a rigid standard of having to negotiate life as the property of men. They also lived in a time in which a woman’s worth was often measured by her ability to bear a male child, remain a virgin until married and be submissive to male authority.

But the three women whose songs changed the world, Hannah, Deborah and Mary, colored outside of these lines. Not because they were seeking attention for themselves but because God asked them to, they simply responded to a calling from on high.

Hannah, Deborah and Mary were not only prophets, but women who overcame cultural adversity to channel God’s miraculous power into flesh and bones, into peace and love. Deborah’s song tells of an impossible victory that she commands with her vision, grit and military prowess as the right arm of God on earth. Hannah’s song claims God’s miraculous power to do the impossible through a woman that the world had given up on. Mary’s song creates a new world order in which God’s love is Sovran.

Through their songs love is made possible in the world through the odd combination that women carry so well -vulnerability and strength.

The songs of women are special, because they are uttered from hearts that know of sacrifice and oppression, hearts that are well acquainted with sorrow and the impossible. Hearts that have experienced the pain of rejection. Women who didn’t settle for being the victims of an unfair system, who didn’t believe the victim narrative but rose up out of it through God’s strength to share the truthfulness of God’s mighty power with the world.

They also teach us that we can’t do important work alone, we need others to be our best selves. In a culture in which we can easily feel isolated, lonely and without nurturing love, we need to remember that their songs were not sung alone. If they had been, the outcomes could have been very different. Deborah could have gone into battle without enough of the manpower she needed. Mary could have been abandoned by her family and friends and had to face giving birth alone. Hannah would have had no sacred vessel into which she could dedicate God’s gift to her. But because they sang their songs in communities that believed in them, and believed that their words were from God, the outcome was miraculous, every time.

God has done the impossible through the songs of women, should we be surprised?

Check out some of my modern interpretations of the radical stories of the hidden women of the Bible here.

May God add a blessing to your reading of this blog.