Does my Life Count?

Sometimes I wonder if my life has counted for anything. I am especially wondering that during this season of my life. I am forty-five years old. I have stayed in youth ministry way beyond my prime. I have no money to speak of. I am just now, after 20 years, finishing my master’s degree. I am not an ordained pastor. I rarely get to preach. I have never served communion. I have never baptized anyone. I am 25 pounds overweight. I have acid reflux. My present ministry as an Assistant Pastor often leaves me scratching my head, wondering what it is that I really do. To top it all off, I live in a van down by the river!

Not really. I’m not quite Matt Foley. But I’m working on it.

With this said, today I received a remarkably encouraging e-mail from Eric Griffin. I first met Eric several years ago while visiting Rock Hill High School (Rock Hill, SC). Eric was a freshman (or sophomore) who played soccer and sometimes kicked field goals for the football team. After a while, Eric and I formed a friendship and he became a key student leader in our Young Life ministry. Eric is now married to his beautiful wife, Wendy, and he works as a successful businessman with The Cason Group insurance agency.

Today Eric sent me an a note that reminded me of some things that I needed to remember.

Note from Eric…
T…hey man. Just a note of encouragement to you. I was at a retreat all weekend, and the speaker asked us to think about a mentor who really had an impact on our lives. I thought of you and praised God for Him using you in my life 15+ years ago. things i specifically thanked God for were how you were the first person to ever make the Gospel appear attractive and that a walk with Christ included laughing. One other specific thing you told me that I will never forget was when Fowler, Cunnup, and I drove to Johnson City to visit, you shared that the best way you could love your kids is by lving Martha Jo. I remember that often and think of you every time.
I am thankful for you T and miss having time with you. Thanks for being faithful to follow God’s call to make an impact on others.

My Response to Eric…
Eric,
I don’t even know how to respond to that. A part of me wants to say something like “I’m all you have, Eric? Really? That is so tragic! You need to get out more, man!” Or I’m tempted to respond, “15 years ago? Eric…dude… I was an idiot 15 years ago! Erase every memory of me from your mind. I had a mullet for God sake! Who listens to a guy with a mullet? Never listen to a guy with a mullet!”
But, instead of all that, I will simply say “Thank You.” It humbles me to hear that God used me in your life. And it excites me to know that the message I wanted to send actually caught hold. I can’t think of very many things I would want to communicate beyond
(1) The Gospel of Jesus is beautiful
(2) The Gospel should produce joy and laughter and
(3) The best way to love your children is to love your wife.
I miss you too, E. You are a great brother. May God continue to bless you with everything that He calls good.
T

I am so grateful that God reminds us. Thank you, Eric. Thanks for reminding me to consider the beauty of Christ, to laugh with Jesus, and to love my wife.

And thank you, Jesus. It is a testament to your grace that you can use a bone-head with a mullet to proclaim the life-giving beauty of the Gospel…even if that bone-head does live in a van down by the river.

Favorite Lewis Quote #8 – The Land of Safe

“Safe? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” – The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

Once upon a time…far, far away, there existed a kingdom without a King, where everyone was safe. In this Land of Safe, no one ever grew sick or ill. And no one ever died. The people were never hungry, never desperate, never thirsty, never sad. In this Land of Safe, always beautiful, never ugly; always full, never empty, the lonely people lived – Safe from the pain of war; Safe from the pain of anger; Safe from the pain of loss…Safe from the pain of love.

For in its essence, the idolatry of safety is nothing more than the desire to be free from the suffering of love. And so this land – safe, secure, happy, and comfortable – was a land without the dangers of compassion. The people all understood that hiding was the only way to be truly safe and so safety stayed in fashion. They were kind but never close. They were nice but never near. During the day they encased themselves in cubicles. At night they locked their doors and hid inside their fear. When they traveled, they sealed themselves inside moving metal boxes. They talked to one another, but only through machines. They worked safe jobs. Washed in safe bathrooms. Kept their money in safe banks. They Hid inside safe houses, that were built inside safe walls, surrounded by safe fences, and locked inside safe gates. Marriage? Far too dangerous; Babies? Much too perilous; Families? Way too hazardous…inside the Land of Safe.

So in this way the people lived – comfortable, happy, lonely, sad, unloving and afraid – until they eventually faded away into the nothing. Yes, this is how they lived, In the Land of Safe, Once upon a time, In this kingdom without a King.

One day this Land of Safe was interrupted by a Voice of Love who claimed to be a King. A Prophet King who was not safe, who sang throughout the town, dancing in the streets at night, who said he’d bring the heavens down. He told stories around the tables of dangerous rowdy friends. He claimed safety was an illusion and security was just a dream. He washed himself in rivers cold and drank deep from every stream, and walking everywhere he went, he cheered the hearts of children, romanced the hearts of women, and roused the hearts of men. He laughed at lightning, chased the thunder, and lept upon the waves – this Prophet King, this voice of Love, even called into the graves. Safety was a foolish hope, he said, that created loveless slaves. And so this King claimed this kingdom and declared it as is own, and said it was no longer safe to call His kingdom home. Yet, call it home He did, and even more; He called the Land, “Safe-No-More”, and said this land was created for…

Love and Love alone.

In that day this Prophet King declared war on every gate that kept love from getting in and gave his life as ransom then to free all hearts from safety’s grip of hatred, greed, and fear.  He made the the mute to sing with Him at the tables of dangerous friends; to cheer the hearts of children and rouse the hearts of men; to romance all women to unlock their hearts to believe in things above and to proclaim throughout the Land that nothing is safe from Love.

And so in the Land of Safe-No-More, the children would ask,”Is our King safe?” Then they heard their parents sing. “Of course He is not Safe my child. But He’s good. He is our King.”

Favorite Lewis Quote #9 – A Special Standard

“How difficult it is to avoid having a special standard for oneself.” – C.S. Lewis, Letters to an American Lady, p. 58

I tend to view myself as a ’specialme’. When I’m standing in line at the grocery store, with 20 people in front of me, somehow I feel like I am the one person who is so special, that I should be allowed to go to the front of the line. When I do something wrong – like losing my temper or gossiping or building myself up while tearing someone else down, or when I kill someone and bury them in my backyard – I feel like I’m justified because I am a ’specialme’. Now, if someone else kills a person and buries them in their back yard…well, that’s just wrong. No question about it. But me? Hey, I have my reasons, doggone it. If I want to kill people – if I want to be a cannibal – then it is my right. Me and Hannibal Lecter are in a different category. Don’t hate us just because we like to eat people.

I tend to believe that I am not the only one who suffers from the disease of ’specialme-itis’. In fact, it seems to be something that has greatly infected most of Christianity. We Christians tend to believe that we are all a ’specialme’. We believe that our identity as God’s Chosen people gives us special rights and privileges. God loves us. Therefore, nothing bad should happen to us. We are God’s children! We deserve to be first in line. We deserve to be healthy. We deserve to be rich. We have the right to kill people and bury them in the back yard. Cannibalism is just fine for those love God and are called according to His purpose.

You see, the trouble is, we take some very good, solid, theological truth and we go absolutely the wrong way with it. Let me explain. The Bible does say that we Christians are a chosen people. God does predestine us to be the elect. We are made holy by Christ. The Spirit of God is placed within us. We are Set apart. Adopted. Blessed. Loved. If you will, God, through Christ Jesus, has called us special. This is true. But this is not the end of the story. Not by a long shot. The Gospel also tells us that we are evil. Diseased. The Bible makes it clear that God makes us special because He chooses us. He does not choose us because we are special. God takes messed up people – people who are selfish and angry and poor and desperate and murderous and cannibalistic – and He calls them His own. He saves them from themselves and He puts a new heart within them and teaches them to worship God and to love people.

But we go the wrong way. In our evil, we think that God has chosen us because we are Special. We think that God loves us because we are so pretty and so sweet and so holy and so good. And everybody else? Well, all those damned other people – they are just getting in the way. We are the specialme’s. Not them. Everyone else should bow the knee to us. They should Serve us and Listen to us and Recognize our Specialness. And so we create a special standard for ourselves. This special standard tell us that it is OK for us to mistreat the infidels. We are special. It’s no big deal to hate a godless evolutionist. In fact, God wants it that way. We are the special people. An army of Specialme’s. We have been chosen to do God’s work. So come along, Christian. Join me. Let’s join together to do God’s work on the earth. Let’s curse out an atheist for Jesus. Let’s shout down a liberal in the name of the Lord. Let’s blow up an abortion clinic. Let’s kill some Muslims and bury them in the back yard. Let’s cook some homosexuals and serve them hot with a side of beans and slaw. We are allowed. We are the Specialme. We live by a special standard.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

Again, we go the wrong way. Yes.  We are special. We are set apart. But to do what? The Gospel tells us. Read it.  Aren’t we are called to be last? To be poor in spirit?  Doesn’t Christ call us to lay our lives down? Of course He does.  The Gospel set us back straight on this.  Jesus calls us to take up our cross. To love each other. To love our enemies. To worship God. We are called to admit our own idolatry before we ever point out the idolatry of others. We, above all, should be the first to admit our sin and to deal with the plank in our eye.

Jesus does not choose us and call us special so that we might claim God’s favor as a right that gives us permission to become even more idolatrous. Jesus chooses us to become a fellowship of ‘Little Christs’ – a people chosen to serve and not to be served. A people chosen to share in the sufferings of Christ Jesus. If this is true, then we have no right to claim a special standard for ourselves. We are not a ’specialme’. But rather, we serve a Special God…a Messiah who ‘did not regard equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness; and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross!’

If we are special (and we are) then it is the special-ness of Jesus that makes us so. It is Jesus who gives us the special privilege and ability to ‘do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility to consider others better than ourselves.’ If I have a special standard, this is what it should look like.

So, the next time I think about killing someone and burying them in the backyard, I’m going to try to remember these things. I’m going to try to remember that I am not a specialme. I don’t care what Hannibal Lecter says. Cannibalism is just wrong.

Scripture Ref. Philippians 2:1-8

Who is Hannibal Lecter?