Palm Sunday Journal: Think of a White Horse

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. Mark 11:1-2

The best remedy for the hiccups is to think of a white horse. If that doesn't work then think of a white horse carrying Barbra Streisand in a bikini on the beach. If that doesn't scare them out of you then drink some water. White horses are a part of messianic lore. In Revelation Jesus is pictured as a rider on a white horse. The white horse is a king's horse. Roman generals rode white horses. The Lone Ranger rode a white horse, “Hi-ho Silver away!” When we think of knights, we think of a white knight on a white horse. When we think of a hero, of a savior, we think of a white horse.

As much as I like the Lone Ranger, Zorro was cooler and he rode a black stallion so it is hard to imagine a king who rides into town on a donkey. Surely, no good honorable king would ride into town on a donkey or be seen riding a donkey. If a king lost his horse in battle or on the way to town, a knight would either give up his horse or a peasant would lose their finest horse. The horse was a part of the king's identity. When you saw the white horse, you knew your king was almost there. If you saw a black horse, you knew the Black Knight was coming. If you saw a king riding into town on a donkey, you knew...well you're not sure what to know. Palm Sunday offers us a moment to redefine our expectations and images of the messiah.

We have come to the end of our Lenten journey. Last week we sat up on the mountaintop with Jesus. We listened as he told us he was only here for a little while longer. We sat on the mountaintop and watched the sunset. We sat with Jesus, looking out towards the distant cross. Now, we've started our descent into the valley. Today, we open our doors and we sing hosanna to a king who comes without his white horse. We take a moment and ask, “Has Jesus redefined our expectations of a messiah?”

For many of us, we've grown up accustomed to these stories. We know the Palm Sunday story, the Good Friday story, and of course the Easter story. Through the years these stories have been presented in a way that allows us to be bystanders. These stories have been presented in the form of a three act play. Act 1 is Palm Sunday, the entrance of Christ. Act 2 is Good Friday and the death of Jesus. Act 3 is Easter. The story is structured and presented in a way in which there is not room for our participation. Since these stories have already happened, we are simply asked to listen and respond. The beauty of the complexity of this story is reduced to a salvation experience that does not leave room for new discoveries and new life.

My hope, since September, has been to introduce us to a new way of seeing and hearing these stories. Every sermon and every scripture has been a slow attempt at engaging us in a story that extends beyond three acts. My hope on this Palm Sunday is for us to see the beautiful five act story God is writing. In the five act story, Jesus' life is the third act. The first two, creation and Israel, have helped shaped the story of today. The story of creation and the story of Israel's rise and fall invite us to see with big eyes the strangeness of the messiah riding in on a donkey.

Imagine hearing the stories as a child of act 1 and 2. Imagine hearing stories of how God created the world out of chaos. Imagine hearing stories of God's chosen people rising to glory under King David and their fall into Babylonian exile. Imagine growing up hearing stories of God's promise of a messiah. Imagine what those stories would do for you as a child of Israel under the foot of the Roman Empire. Imagine what type of messiah you would picture. Imagine, standing out in the streets as the third act slowly reaches its climatic point. Imagine seeing Jesus, the one some say is Elijah or John the Baptist but his disciples say is the Christ. Would the man you see on the back of the donkey be the same image you had in your mind as a child? Would you see him and say, “I thought he'd be taller”?

It's not that hard to imagine is it? Many of us have been imagining what Jesus would look like since we were children. Many have painted different portraits of a man they have never seen. We have imagined what it will be like when we get to see Jesus face to face. Will he live up to our images and expectations? Or will we look at him and say, “I thought you'd be white”?

We are invited to see the donkey carrying the messiah as message to us, a message from God. A message that takes Acts 1 and 2 and says, “You expected my messiah, my chosen one to bring with him my vengeance on my enemies. You expected him to ride in on a war horse, instead he rides in on a donkey and on that donkey he brings to you my peace, my grace, and my love.” This image of the messiah is an image of God. A God who is not absent or bent on retribution but a God who wishes to bring peace to creation, to the nation of Israel, and to us. There is no white horse.

Palm Sunday allows to be free from images that bind us and trap us. We are free to use our imagination and imagine a messiah that is greater than the one we've created in our minds and in our dreams. Palm Sunday offers us a chance to reconcile our images with the image presented to us today. The white horse has become a gray donkey.

Churches have split over the images of Christ. Christians have split over the images of Christ and it is not hard to see why when we've been trapped in a story that does not have room for us. Palm Sunday begins to open up a fourth act. Today starts the slow transition from the life of Christ to the life of the Church, to the life of Act 4. Today we have the opportunity to be honest with one another and honest with our images of Christ. Today we have the opportunity to become a full church, a united church.

When pastors speak of a united church, they normally do not speak to the image of a messiah on a donkey. They think of a white horse. They think of a church united in one mind on the issue of homosexuality, the poor, the sick, the elderly, the young, the widowed, the divorced, the saved, the unsaved, abortion, politicians, the rich, atonement, and worship style. Unification means to be in agreement on all of those issues, and I am sure I have left several out. Palm Sunday offers us a new meaning, or an old meaning of unification.

The messiah who rode in on a donkey inspired a community of faith who became one in mind, body, and spirit but they were not of one mind, body, and spirit on issues. They were of one mind, body, and spirit concerning who the messiah was, the fulfillment of the prophecy. They were of one mind, body, and spirit in proclamation of Jesus as the Christ, the messiah, the Son of God. They were unified thinking of a gray donkey.

Palm Sunday is more than the Sunday before Easter. It is the start of something new, something grand and epic. It is the moment God begins to rewrite the story; renewing the characters, renewing the plot, renewing the theme, renewing the minds and hearts. Such a process is painful, that is why we have spent the past 2 months preparing for this week so that we might be able to stand together as we are renewed and made whole, as our image in Christ is made complete.

Such a process is tough. The chief priests, the Pharisees, the elders, and the scribes struggled with this change. The messiah did not fit with their images. The message of God's kingdom did not fit with their ideas and theology. The cost of following Christ was too much, so they crucified him.

In many ways we do the same.

I once asked a pastor, someone I deeply trusted on how you know you are saved or if you can ever fall out of God's grace and this is what he told me, “Every time you wake in the morning you are given two choices, you live for yourself or you live for Christ. Each time you decide to live for Christ and pray, “Lord, today let live as you did.” The resurrection becomes real and Christ comes down from the cross and you go up on the cross. Each time you decide to live for yourself, Christ stays on the cross and waits for you. In other words, each time you live for Christ you experience the resurrection. Each time you live for yourself you receive salvation.”

Palm Sunday is the beginning of God changing the world. Act 3 is coming to an end and Christ is making the way for Act 4 to begin. We are being invited into this story so that we might truly know that this room for everyone of every walk of life at the banquet table in God's kingdom. We are being invited to a wedding and a banquet. This invitation unifies the church, it brings all of us together because Christ is tearing down the walls of hostility. We are been given the power to stay in the room together even when deeply disagree because the gospel is true.

Palm Sunday offers us a new way to be the Church. A way that includes, accepts, and loves because it is not we that exist but Christ who exists in this place. Palm Sunday makes the gospel true because it is the beginning of a new story, a new chapter, and new act; and we are being given a part to play and are being asked to play it together. This is not a one person show.

Let us cast aside the thought of a white horse. Let us taste the sweet water of life and let us watch as the king who brings us peace, grace, mercy, and love enters into our church and our lives riding on a gray donkey.

Lenten Journal: The Privileged

I remember very clearly the first time I discovered I was privileged. It was September 1994, I had started a new school, Forest Park Middle School. I had transferred from Pine Tree ISD to LISD so I could attend the high school my dad worked at and because it was a dream of mine to always be a Lobo. First, I had to be an Eagle and it was FPMS that I learned a valuable lesson: I am a privileged white boy.

I haven't given much thought to my time at Forest Park because I such an awkward kid and it was a new place with new people and I was completely out of my league. 8th grade was not a great year for me. It was okay, just not great. It wasn't until I read the story and sequential blogs/articles about Trayvon Martin that I remembered a very significant memory.

It was our first football game of the season. We were playing John Tyler's Jr. High team and I had somehow earned the starting strong safety position. It wasn't a great game on my behalf. I did what I was supposed and made a couple of tackles but I was working through some serious fears out there. After the game, on the bus ride home, I remember clearly a teammate getting upset at the lack of playing time he received.

"It's crap," He said, "I get one play and that white boy gets to play the entire game? That's crap. Just because he's a coach's son who gets special shoulder pads and a special face mask."

As I look back on it, he was right to a degree. I had received special treatment in a way because my dad was a high school coach. He was able to get me shoulder pads that had the cool rib protectors and my facemask looked like an NFL facemask. Though, none of that helped with all 180lbs of Frank Cox runs through you. I was privileged. I still am privileged: I am white, middle class, perhaps a little upper middle class, man who knows the right people.

I tried to fight that perception of me in middle school. I fought it all the way into high school and through high school. I tried to fight that perception. And you know who helped me fight that perception? My African American and Hispanic friends.

After the comment on the bus, I felt a tap on my shoulder by Shun Bradley. He said, "Don't let it get to you. You did good today." I didn't receive words of faith or encouragement from my white teammates. The words came from an unexpected person. It came from a person who would repeatedly go out of his way that year to make sure I felt welcomed, encouraged and included until I got my feet underneath me. I have no idea why he did that and I wish to God I didn't forget that memory until now.

We live in a racially divided society. We have been brought up to see others of different races as suspect. I am, in many ways, prejudice. We all are. We have all looked at some of a different race or someone of a different social standing with suspicion. Our lives are not divided just racially but by gender as well. If a white man ever says he is the oppressed or a part of the 99%, it is a half truth. Sure, we may not all be wealthy cats but we will always be given the benefit of the doubt because of our gender and our skin color. And that is wrong.

Jesus wasn't a white man with blond hair and blue eyes. He didn't die for the rights of the privileged. He didn't fight for the upper class. He fought for those on the outside. He fought for those on the margins. He fought for those who were persecuted because they were different. It was the privileged people who crucified him. It was the privileged who worked the crowd into a frenzy. It was the privileged who sought to trap him.

I think Jesus would have been proud of the white preachers who wear hoodies in the pulpit, Sunday, and spoke out against the travesty of Trayvon's death. But I think he would challenge those white pastors. I think he would say, "It's great that you're doing what you're doing but you could do more. You're still preaching to people, whom the majority look, think, dress, and act like you. Why not pack up your congregation, close your doors, and walk over to the African American church across the street and worship with them today? And afterwards, why don't you stay around for lunch?"

I wish I had the courage to do such a bold thing. To which Jesus would say, "What stops you?" And that opens up a whole can of worms inside my mind.

Lastly, this past Sunday, I had the honor of attending a surprise party for one of my dear friends. Several of us, of different races, gathered under the same roof to celebrate the life of someone we hold dear. My son, Connor, made a new friend that day, Christian. Christian is just 2 months younger than Connor. And as I watched the two of them play and then hug and kiss one another goodbye, I prayed that my son would never look at Christian and see a black man. Instead he would look at him and see a friend, a brother. There are many things I cannot control as a parent, that however isn't one of them.

I may not be able to fight the injustice of Trayvon's death. I can however prevent it from happening in the future. In my son, in our children, we have the opportunity to raise a generation that does not see the color of skin but see the face of a brother, a sister, a friend. We can make the dream of a past generation a reality by teaching our children in the eyes of God there is no black, yellow, red, brown, or white, only people created by the same God who created them.

Lenten Journal: The Mountiantop, For a Moment

I have spent the morning reflecting on these past few weeks. Lent is drawing to an end and we are in our final week. Seven more days until we lay our coats on the ground for a donkey to walk over. Seven more days for our eyes to rest upon the not so distant cross. Seven more days for our bodies to rest on this mountaintop.

As I look back over the scriptures, I discovered the journey of Lent to be like climbing mountain. Of course, we take one step at a time and all that mushy cheesy stuff. But what I am speaking to is something else. We have been traveling with Jesus as he ministers, preaches, heals, and offers us the full picture of the kingdom of God. Our journey leads us to a mountaintop.

Yesterday, I felt we reached the mountaintop. I felt we were given the privilege to look out over the vast love of Christ and see what he sees. The cross, though far off, was visible and the reality sunk in. There will be no other way, though I wish there could. I think we all do in some way. It would be nice to have Jesus around for a little while longer. But could we enjoy this time on the mountaintop without the journey? Could we rejoice in the resurrection without the Lenten journey?

Easter has become a time, like Christmas, that just shows up at the church. Many churches do not really prepare themselves for Easter. Preachers preach on whatever they want to or whatever series they've started or on the lectionary; but do they prepare their congregations for what's to come? Are they creating the freeing space to see Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter in a new holy light? Is that not what this journey does for us? Is that not what this time on the mountaintop do for us?

I reread my sermon yesterday, or homily, it wasn't really long enough to be counted as a sermon. I am not sure I conveyed the message that I felt Jesus was speaking to. We have travelled to the top of the mountain and like the people, we want to meet with Jesus. We want to hear one of his stories. We want him to tell us of God's gracious love. We want him to preach on the coming kingdom of God. We want him to burn the Pharisees one more time. We want to laugh. We want to hear Jesus one more time.

Yet, Jesus says, "No more stories. No more burns. No more sermons. I am only hear for a little while longer. You only have the light just a little longer. Enjoy it. Bask it in it. Sunbathe in it. Soak it in because soon the darkness will come and you will face a great struggle. But have faith because the Son of Man will be lifted up. Yes, I will die. Yes, it goes against what you've heard. Yes, it is true. But have faith because the Son of Man will be raised from the dead. For now, just enjoy this moment. Let us look out over the valleys and enjoy this day. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Just enjoy the view."

We are at the mountaintop. Let us stay here just awhile longer. Let us prepare our hearts and souls for the journey down into the valley of the cross. Let us go with courage and faith. But let us just sit for a moment and enjoy the view. Let's just sit on the mountaintop for a moment.

Lenten Journal: Words of Wisdom

“Die?” asked the crowd. “We understood from scripture that the Messiah would live forever. Why are you saying the Son of Man will die? Who is this Son of Man you are talking about?”

He looked at them compassionately and replied, “My light will shine out for you just a little while longer. Walk in it while you can, so you will not stumble when the darkness falls. If you walk in the darkness, you cannot see where you are going. Believe in the light while there is still time; then you will become children of the light.”

He smiled his best smile, turned around, went away and was hidden from them.

If life was a musical I think this would be the time Jesus would sing a soft ballad. Something to ease the crowd while provoking thought of what was about to happen. He would have to sing something that could convey his message; something to remind us to let go. Perhaps he would sing, “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

Perhaps he is whispering these words of wisdom to us as we gather this Sunday morning, “Let it be.”

Jesus' part in the story is coming to an end. Next week, we will gather and celebrate the entry of the king. We will lay our palm branches and our coats for a donkey carrying the Christ to walk over. We will rejoice that Sunday. Come the following Thursday, we will witness his betrayal. On that Friday, we will crucify him. On that Saturday, we will hide and mourn. Then, bright and early the following Sunday, we will rise up. That will be then.

As for today, let us look at Jesus one last time and let us hear his words to us, “Let it be.”

We have been preparing ourselves for these next two weeks. Our scriptures have focused on the journey to the cross. The cross as a way is becoming a reality. His words of prophesy are coming true. Do we have the faith to look up upon the cross with trusting eyes and hopeful hearts, hearing his words, “And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow, let it be”?

That has been the question we have been asking ourselves for the past 40 days. We have been asked to look upon the cross, not as something that is abstract and romanticized, but something that is very real. We have been asked to take up our crosses, carry them and when the time came to die upon them, to lose our lives for the gospel's sake. We are being shown the cost of bringing the kingdom of heaven to life. We are being shown the way, the way to the cross.

Let it be.

The best stories involve characters who are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve their goals. Characters who are willing to leave the comfort of the shires and travel into the fires of Mordor, they are characters we remember. Who will remember a Messiah who prefers the comforts of the throne and the power of the crown? Who will remember a Messiah who willing sacrifices others but will not sacrifice himself?

Our faith is built on the greatest story ever told. A story of a Christ who came to us as a carpenter's son, advocated for the poor and selflessness, preached of a kingdom that was coming, brought a message of love, grace, and mercy, willing went to the cross with the faith that death would not win. It is the story that will give hope to the early church as they faced death. It is the story that will challenge the powerful Roman church through the reformers. It is the story that has found its way into our lives. It is the story for which we are gathered. It is a story of a character who willing lays down his life for his friends.

Are you willing to lay down your life for the sake of the gospel?

Is that not the question Jesus asks when he says, “All those who want to be my disciples must come and follow me, because my servants must be where I am.”

Is that not the question we have been struggling with?

Let it be.

The next two weeks always bring up the tough questions. Many of us have grown up with the familiar answers. In a way, we've tamed the gospel because we do not find the struggle of the cross in our own lives. We struggle to grasp the story at hand because it has become a natural part of our faith. Perhaps though this Easter could be different. Perhaps this Palm Sunday will be different. Perhaps this Good Friday will be different.

Perhaps I will stop asking questions and saying, “Perhaps.”

Perhaps.

Until we know the answers, let us be satisfied with our questions. Let us trust there will one day be an answer and let it be.

Words of wisdom, let it be.

Lenten Journal: The Sound of Music

Last night I crossed off one of my wishes on my wish list: I attended my first Bruce Springsteen concert.

I did not get home until 3 am and I am running on pure adrenaline. The experience led to a restless night and just 4 hours of sleep. And some how I feel like a new man.

My face. Rocked off.

I went to the mountaintop last night abroad a train conducted by a madman and band who refused to stop or take a break for 3 hours until they got us to where we were going. I stood on the mountaintop as the hymns played and I found myself worshipping.

I wasn't worshipping a man. Don't get me wrong, I'm huge Springsteen fan but he's not God. No, last night he was merely the guide who led me to the mountaintop and there I worshiped.

It's fascinating what music can do for your soul. Especially good music by good musicians. It's no surprise David lamented and praised in the form of song.

Music has the ability to capture your soul and transport you to another place and time. To a place where a joyful noise is welcomed and encouraged. Transported to a place where voices join in chorus, "Come on up for the rising!" Transported to a place where you feet cannot help but move. Transported where you find your soul renewed and voice gone from singing and legs aching from dancing.

Music can send you to the mountaintop.

I am thankful for the experience last night.

I am thankful for a tired body with a renewed mind.

I am thankful I encountered the Almighty in a sea of people.

I am thankful for music that lifts the soul.

I am thankful for being sent to the mountaintop.

I am thankful for the strength it will give me as we walk down through the valley to Good Friday.

I am thankful for the freedom it will give us to dance come Easter Sunday.

Listen.

Can you hear it?

It's the sound of music.

Lenten Journal: A Lantern and A Dark Knight Born Again

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

Two of my favorite heroes, Green Lantern and Batman, are probably the most different superheroes one person could follow. Green Lantern works in the light while Batman prefers the dark. Green Lantern protects the entire space sector of 2814 while Batman watches over Gotham City, ridding the city of crime. Green Lantern is light, Batman is dark. Each one is a part of a universe in desperate need of heroes.

The Lantern understands that his/her light shines out in the dark universe giving hope to all who see the green light. Green Lantern Hal Jordan prefers to shine as a brightly as he can so the evil ones will come to him. Batman hides in the shadows scaring evil into the light. Two heroes: one of light and one of dark. Each one bringing those who do injustice to light. Each one fighting evil in their own way and own style. One of light and one of darkness.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.

In darkness, Nicodemus comes to Christ. He brings his questions to him and does not understand the answers. He lurks in the night for fear of being seen by his group, his friends, his social network. He moves through the back alleys and the rooftops and finds his way into a room with the light of the world. The dark and the light meet face to face. Nicodemus wishing to remain in the dark and Jesus telling him the light has come and only the evil prefer the dark.

Nicodemus wants to be a follower of Christ, evident in John 7:51. He likes Jesus and his questions in John 3 lead me to believe he wants to come out and be open of his belief but his questions showcase his fear. For him, it is safer to move about through the dark. It is better for him to wear the cape and cowl instead of basking in the light.

We are not that different than Nicodemus. We desperately want to follow Christ and we desperately want others to follow Christ so we put the flags of John 3:16. We testify to the light of John 3:16 but we deny the lifting up of the light. We deny the light to shine in the darkness because the light shines too brightly. We deny the cross as a way because we fear how bright the light could shine in a weak moment.

We are children of the light hiding in the dark because the light shows us our impurities. We cling to John 3:16 in hopes no one will see our own scars. We love the light of John 3:16. We fear the darkness of John 3:14. We fear what will come to light when we go to the cross. We fear we will not still be loved. The light of John 3:16 is greater than our darkest fear of hell. The lifting of the light of God that came into this world reminds us of God's compassionate unending love.

In the episode Hereafter, standing before Superman's tomb Batman eulogizes, “You showed me justice doesn't always have to come from the dark.”

Nicodemus struggles to understand Jesus' metaphors. For him, it is best to move through the shadows and work out of the darkness versus working in the light. He doesn't understand the notion of being born again. He is confused by the humility of the Son of Man being lifted up. He simply doesn't understand.

Or does he?

In John 7:51, Nicodemus defends Jesus when he tells the other Pharisees, “Is it legal to convict a man before he is given a hearing?” The Pharisees respond, “Are you from Galilee, too? Search the scriptures and see for yourself. No prophet ever comes from Galilee!”

In that small exchange, we see Nicodemus coming to an understanding of what Jesus means when he says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.” He sees first hand there will no reasoning. The Son of Man will be lifted up on the cross. He learns that people love the dark instead of the light.

A popular church quote started popping everywhere called, “No Perfect People Allowed”. It was a statement stressing that we are all imperfect beings in need of God's uncompromising compassionate grace. The quote brought problems to churches who started to see themselves as imperfect. Instead of creating a sense of humility in the community, it began to breed emotions of fear and insecurity. Sinners started to darken the church walls and the church faithful begin to get worried. Unlike them, the sinners remained humbled and grateful for the God of John 3:16.

The church faithful, like the Pharisees, wanted to keep what was done in secret and in darkness, stay in the darkness. The more sinners darkening the church halls brought to light the sin of our own lives. Instead of finding the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16, the church faithful turned away, preferring the darkness to the light. The light of grace towards the sinners revealed the skeletons in the closet of the church, and the church feared they would get sick once again.

If we are a people who have been born again in Christ, we are not afraid of the skeletons in the closet. A church which has been born again in Christ is not afraid of the sinners which sit in their pews and preach from their pulpits. Being born again sets us free. That is what Nicodemus struggles to understand. He cannot comprehend the freedom to stand in say, “Why are seeking to kill this man? Is God so small that a prophet cannot come from Galilee? Is God so small that the blind and lame cannot be healed but through our traditions? Is God so small that the weak cannot be made strong? Is God so small that justice only comes through the power of the government? Is God so small that his love conditional?”

Being born again in Christ frees us to see that the cross as a way because of the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16. Being born again frees us to live a life of truth and justice. Being born again frees to not fear the dark but to shine as brightly as we wish. Being born again frees us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Being born again frees to look humbly at our sins and look at the grace of the cross with grateful hearts. Being born again frees to trust in the words of Christ. Being born again frees to be compassionate to others as God is compassionate to us. Being born again frees to go humbly to the cross.

What's that old hymn say?

When I survey the wondrous cross,

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God;

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to the cross.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down;

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

In two weeks, we will sing Hosanna. In three weeks, we will sing “Were You There” as Christ is crucified. Three days after that, we will sing, “Up From The Grave He Arose”. Today, let us open our eyes and look towards the cross with the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16.

Lenten Journal: Remembering Wanting

I originally sat down this afternoon on my lunch break to write about something I had on my mind. As with most things on my mind, I lost my thought as soon as I sat down behind this laptop.

There is a lot to ponder in this great big world. There are a lot problems that need to be addressed and handled. There is a lot do in between thinking times. Life moves fast and if you don't slow down once in awhile you'll miss it, as Ferris once said. Only if I could remember why it is I sat down to write in the first place. Only if I could remember what brought me to this page and to this website. Only if I could remember why.

The why matters, right? It matters why a person does something, right? I mean, Hawaii Five-O never ends without McGarrett or Dano asking the villain why. So why have sat down to write here?

Maybe I try to hard.

Will you look at what I did there? I used the wrong "to". It should have been "too" not "to". Maybe I'm trying too hard.

I have that tendency.

I have the tendency to try too hard. I try to be overly poetic, spiritual, prophetic, academic, thoughtful, intelligent, or critical. I have this need to be lifted up. I have this need to be respected, liked, loved, admired, special.

You have that need too, don't you? (See, I used the right "too")

We all have this need to want something from those who are in our lives either physically, emotionally, spiritually, or whatever else "ally".

(Am I using the "" too much?)

We have this desire to be called special by friends and strangers alike. We have this desire to be prophetic and carry the torch of a cause so Jesus will love us more. We have this want and we seek to have it filled however we can.

I want to finish my sermon.

I want to be retweeted.

I want to be shared.

I want to be rid of my want.

Nouwen wrote, "When we start being too impressed by the results of our work, we slowly come to the erroneous conviction that life is one large scoreboard where someone is listing the points to measure our worth."

Perhaps then that is the purpose of Lent: to rid ourselves of our wants, to rid ourselves of the scoreboard.

Hmm...

I just remember what I wanted to write about.

Go figure.