What is the spiritual journey about?
I used to think it was about knowledge: knowing the right doctrines, agreeing with them, believing them with all my heart. But the longer I know Jesus, the more I see that he has loved me and put up with me when I believed "wrong" content, and he clearly loves, grows, works in and is present by His Spirit in and among people who hold very different views of right doctrine. Sure, it's possible to go too far, off the rails, out in space...but within the boundaries of walking with Christ there is great diversity, and that ought to lead us to humility. Knowledge puffeth up, saith St. Paul.
Some people think it is about practice: either liturgical practice (right rites!) or ethical practice (good works). We can find biblical warrant for these things, but again, there is so much diversity that Jesus, by His Spirit, seems to put up with.
Yesterday, it dawned on me (and I'm hoping this doesn't mean I'm incredibly dense) that it has always and only been about: RELATIONSHIPS.
Think about it:
God came in Christ to demonstrate his love and compassion for us - the expected response is for us to believe in him, to put our faith in him -- and then to follow him.
Those are relationship words - it is about an I-Thou relationship with God himself! (Thanks, Martin Buber.)
And then, Jesus tells us over and over again that the nature of our new relationship with him is that it transcends all other relationships: his mother and brothers are those who do God's will; he came to set parent against child, etc. It isn't that Jesus thinks such relationships are bad -- remember when he raised the son from the dead and "gave him back to his mother"? He obviously cared for his own mother, as he arranged for her care from the cross. What he is doing, is telling us that when we enter into relationship with him, all our other relationships are now through and under him. "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ" applies, even to our families - especialy to our families!
So, with new eyes, we stop judging our parents and forgive them. We are charged not just to honor them but to love them, because we are charged to love everyone, even if in our particular case that's hard (I'm not talking about us, Mom!).
When we come to love and follow Christ, he places us within a fellowship of other believers, who we are expected to love - see 1 Corinthians 13! - not because of who they are or who we are, but because of who He is. In fact, we are told that his command is this: love one another (in the church) as he has loved us -- which was unconditionally and sacrificially, for our good and for God's sake.
The second half of most of (all of?) the epistles is a summary of ways to love one another, and ways to bolster relationships.
And then, we are sent out to be in relationship with people in the world, for their salvation, for the kingdom, in Christ's stead, for God's glory. So if you are a slave, remember who your real Master is and work as unto him!
This seems to mean that my boss, my kids' teacher, the teller at the bank and the guy driving in front of me, are all possibilities for redemptive relationships, no matter how long or short. I am always an agent of God's kingdom, looking to have right relationships for his name's sake.
Is this what it was always about?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Customer Service
We’d like a different Jesus, please.
We’d like to return this one.
This one keeps insisting that the meek will inherit the earth
And that he had come to bring good news to the poor.
By his steady gaze he reminds us
That our sins and weaknesses are known to him
And that they are not “better” than othersAnd our excuses don’t excuse.
When we declare that our people rule the world
Because we are quite naturally rulers
He tells us that those who follow him
Ought not to “lord it” over others,
And that he came to serve.
When we point out that we deserve what we have
His story reminds us that he took what we deserve
On the cross.
When we try to tell our children that He values
Hard work, excellence and family,
He interrupts and tells them that
He values love, mercy, forgiveness
And radical welcome.
We try to keep him within safe boundaries
By reading in the back of the book
And avoiding the red letters,
But the problem is He’s alive
And His Spirit keeps reminding us
Of what we already read.
We want to return this Jesus
And carry home the one
The radio voices seem to know.
That one would just go better
With our color scheme
And is easier in polite
Company.
We’d like a different Jesus.
We’d like to return this one.
This one keeps insisting that the meek will inherit the earth
And that he had come to bring good news to the poor.
By his steady gaze he reminds us
That our sins and weaknesses are known to him
And that they are not “better” than othersAnd our excuses don’t excuse.
When we declare that our people rule the world
Because we are quite naturally rulers
He tells us that those who follow him
Ought not to “lord it” over others,
And that he came to serve.
When we point out that we deserve what we have
His story reminds us that he took what we deserve
On the cross.
When we try to tell our children that He values
Hard work, excellence and family,
He interrupts and tells them that
He values love, mercy, forgiveness
And radical welcome.
We try to keep him within safe boundaries
By reading in the back of the book
And avoiding the red letters,
But the problem is He’s alive
And His Spirit keeps reminding us
Of what we already read.
We want to return this Jesus
And carry home the one
The radio voices seem to know.
That one would just go better
With our color scheme
And is easier in polite
Company.
We’d like a different Jesus.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
An apology for scoffing - and an apologetic for humility
I have a confession to make. I have been a "scoffer."
Psalm 1 says, "oh, the joys of those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or stand around with sinners, or join in with scoffers. But they delight in doing everything the LORD wants." (New Living Translation)
But it so much fun to be a scoffer! It's so pleasant to hang around with those who see things exactly the way you do, and laugh at those who disagree. We know who we are; we're the ones who are right! The more we mock our "opponents," the more sure we are that we belong. It is a satisfying feeling.
Jesus, however, asks something higher of us. He told us to "follow" Him, and He deliberately invited people who didn't hang out much with each other to be his disciples. He willingly ate with all kinds of folks, and every time he did, there was some other group of people disapproving of his dinner company. By being with them, he didn't become like them - instead, he modeled godliness in the midst of them, by loving them, listening to them, and gently redirecting them. Simon the Pharisee was a person to him (even though Simon was rude); the woman crying at his feet and wiping them with her hair was a person to him (even though she was a lawbreaker). All persons were, to him, people made in the image of God who labored under the handicap and deceit of sin - they were the "sick" for whom he had come as doctor. All persons.
So since Paul told us that our attitude should be exactly the same as Jesus', and then reminded us that Jesus "poured himself out" for us, "making himself nothing," and obeying God all the way to the cross for us, why do we think it is our obedient task to decide who is wrong and then assume the worst about them? To laugh and point and call names, which makes us feel ever so safe?
Yesterday I received an email from a Christian video web site. It invited me to watch a new video, their "staff pick." This comedy video featured a "Christian comedian" singing a well-known tune for which the words had been changed - and his version mocked a particular political point of view. Hey, it's just a joke, right? But the words accused his political opponents of thievery and worse, and most of all, of being out to get him.
Seriously? This is Christianity now?
I'm not unfamiliar with politics, and -- see my original confession - not unfamiliar with political scoffing. But seeing it done with the label "Christian" brought me up short: it's NOT Christian - Christ-honoring - to accuse others of evil intent, and evil identity, just because they don't agree with me. And when others ARE up to no good, it's not funny. And if I as a Christian feel it is my duty to point it out, I'd better be sure of it --because not only is the other's reputation at stake, so is my Lord's. He is the one whose name I bear - and what does it mean to use the name of the Lord in vain?
So I repent. I will be more careful to consider others as people for whom Christ died, and commit to praying even for those I may never meet but whose positions I disagree with. And I call others who bear the name of Jesus, to make this commitment as well - for His glory.
Psalm 1 says, "oh, the joys of those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or stand around with sinners, or join in with scoffers. But they delight in doing everything the LORD wants." (New Living Translation)
But it so much fun to be a scoffer! It's so pleasant to hang around with those who see things exactly the way you do, and laugh at those who disagree. We know who we are; we're the ones who are right! The more we mock our "opponents," the more sure we are that we belong. It is a satisfying feeling.
Jesus, however, asks something higher of us. He told us to "follow" Him, and He deliberately invited people who didn't hang out much with each other to be his disciples. He willingly ate with all kinds of folks, and every time he did, there was some other group of people disapproving of his dinner company. By being with them, he didn't become like them - instead, he modeled godliness in the midst of them, by loving them, listening to them, and gently redirecting them. Simon the Pharisee was a person to him (even though Simon was rude); the woman crying at his feet and wiping them with her hair was a person to him (even though she was a lawbreaker). All persons were, to him, people made in the image of God who labored under the handicap and deceit of sin - they were the "sick" for whom he had come as doctor. All persons.
So since Paul told us that our attitude should be exactly the same as Jesus', and then reminded us that Jesus "poured himself out" for us, "making himself nothing," and obeying God all the way to the cross for us, why do we think it is our obedient task to decide who is wrong and then assume the worst about them? To laugh and point and call names, which makes us feel ever so safe?
Yesterday I received an email from a Christian video web site. It invited me to watch a new video, their "staff pick." This comedy video featured a "Christian comedian" singing a well-known tune for which the words had been changed - and his version mocked a particular political point of view. Hey, it's just a joke, right? But the words accused his political opponents of thievery and worse, and most of all, of being out to get him.
Seriously? This is Christianity now?
I'm not unfamiliar with politics, and -- see my original confession - not unfamiliar with political scoffing. But seeing it done with the label "Christian" brought me up short: it's NOT Christian - Christ-honoring - to accuse others of evil intent, and evil identity, just because they don't agree with me. And when others ARE up to no good, it's not funny. And if I as a Christian feel it is my duty to point it out, I'd better be sure of it --because not only is the other's reputation at stake, so is my Lord's. He is the one whose name I bear - and what does it mean to use the name of the Lord in vain?
So I repent. I will be more careful to consider others as people for whom Christ died, and commit to praying even for those I may never meet but whose positions I disagree with. And I call others who bear the name of Jesus, to make this commitment as well - for His glory.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Health Care Reform Debate - for shame!
One of the big divisions in this country is about whether we ought to rely on, or completely mistrust, government to meet some of our needs as a society.
One side thinks that free enterprise and the motivator of ambition and reward are the most efficient motors of problem-solving, and that government unnecessarily (or perhaps diabolically) gums things up.
The other side thinks that government needs to get involved alongside business and other ways of organizing ourselves, in order to make sure some things are available to everyone -- and of course, which things those are, is another subject of great debate. (For example, we agree that the military ought not to be privatized and everyone ought to pay their fair share for that kind of protection - but the debate right now is whether access to health care ought to be one of those "social goods.")
There are good arguments to be made on both sides, and like everyone else, I like one side over the other. Like other believers, I think I can marshall the word of God on "my" side, too.
But what's become of the public debate? Now we're hearing of public meetings in which groups of people plan to show up in order to do violence? In which groups of people plan to show up to deny our elected representatives the opportunity to speak? All this in order to convey the impression that there is an angry majority -- even if, in fact, in that particular meeting room, there is not?
Christians need to hear Jesus on this kind of thing: "do not resist an evil person," Jesus said. "You have heard, love your friends and hate your enemies - but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." (Matt 5:39, 43-45a) Hmm. Doesn't Jesus understand the stakes? Isn't his method likely to get us ignored, or worse, run over?
But Jesus' method recognizes something larger going on. Paul says, in Ephesians 6, "for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the ...spiritual forces of evil." In other words, if we belong to Jesus we ought to understand that no human is our enemy -- the real enemies are forces we don't quite understand in a realm we can't quite see, and besides, they are God's problem. Our job is to "stand" (and not fall), Paul says in Eph. 6, and to love God with our whole selves, to love our "neighbors" as ourselves (and that's anyone we can have mercy on) and to love one another in the body of Christ as Jesus loved us -- fully, sacrificially, unconditionally.
That's enough of a job for us. So I'm trying to remember all this, even as I get outraged in the midst of this whole discussion, and to pray for everyone involved -- and especially to pray for the truth to be told, for all the players to be revealed, and for a good work to be accomplished. I especially do not want to be an unwitting recruit for "spiritual forces of evil."
One side thinks that free enterprise and the motivator of ambition and reward are the most efficient motors of problem-solving, and that government unnecessarily (or perhaps diabolically) gums things up.
The other side thinks that government needs to get involved alongside business and other ways of organizing ourselves, in order to make sure some things are available to everyone -- and of course, which things those are, is another subject of great debate. (For example, we agree that the military ought not to be privatized and everyone ought to pay their fair share for that kind of protection - but the debate right now is whether access to health care ought to be one of those "social goods.")
There are good arguments to be made on both sides, and like everyone else, I like one side over the other. Like other believers, I think I can marshall the word of God on "my" side, too.
But what's become of the public debate? Now we're hearing of public meetings in which groups of people plan to show up in order to do violence? In which groups of people plan to show up to deny our elected representatives the opportunity to speak? All this in order to convey the impression that there is an angry majority -- even if, in fact, in that particular meeting room, there is not?
Christians need to hear Jesus on this kind of thing: "do not resist an evil person," Jesus said. "You have heard, love your friends and hate your enemies - but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." (Matt 5:39, 43-45a) Hmm. Doesn't Jesus understand the stakes? Isn't his method likely to get us ignored, or worse, run over?
But Jesus' method recognizes something larger going on. Paul says, in Ephesians 6, "for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the ...spiritual forces of evil." In other words, if we belong to Jesus we ought to understand that no human is our enemy -- the real enemies are forces we don't quite understand in a realm we can't quite see, and besides, they are God's problem. Our job is to "stand" (and not fall), Paul says in Eph. 6, and to love God with our whole selves, to love our "neighbors" as ourselves (and that's anyone we can have mercy on) and to love one another in the body of Christ as Jesus loved us -- fully, sacrificially, unconditionally.
That's enough of a job for us. So I'm trying to remember all this, even as I get outraged in the midst of this whole discussion, and to pray for everyone involved -- and especially to pray for the truth to be told, for all the players to be revealed, and for a good work to be accomplished. I especially do not want to be an unwitting recruit for "spiritual forces of evil."
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
You want me to love WHO?
So, who, exactly, is my neighbor?
When Jesus said loving our neighbor as ourselves was the second greatest commandment, just who did he have in mind? After all, there are huge differences between the way we live now and the way that Israelites lived when that command was first given (Lev. 19:18). Does he mean my literal next-door neighbor? Does he mean the person standing next to me at church? Does he mean "those of my tribe" - after all, he was talking to a tribal nation.
Of course, that's exactly the next question asked (by the "rich, young ruler," Luke 10:29). And Jesus made things a lot tougher on us by answering him with the story of the Good Samaritan. The upshot of his story is that our neighbor is anyone we can have mercy on, even if that is someone declared to be our enemy!
That makes trouble for us followers of Jesus when we begin to negotiate in the political sphere, because of course the mandate underlying much of politics is to win, for my group to win, my people to win, my party to win (and for those others to lose). Politics, and much of our culture, advises us to look out for number 1, because you can be sure no one else is busy looking out for you.
As Jesus' people, our mandate is to make "shalom," that whole-life harmony, health and peace of Paradise, wherever and whenever we can - that's the point of that picture given us of the first church in its worship and life together in Acts 2:42-47. It will be fleeting on this earth before the Lord returns, but that doesn't take away our task to aim at it. Our job is to have mercy wherever and whenever we can. We're supposed to be looking out for the interests of others (Phil. 2:4). We can disagree about how to do that and whether it should or should not be done through government means, but what we cannot succumb to is the temptation to say, "I've got mine; go take care of yourself." Not even if we think the troubles of others are their own fault.
Jesus told us to love our neighbor as we love ourselves - how can that not mean working for others to have the same benefits I've enjoyed?
Jesus told us that in God's kingdom the last shall be first, and the first, last; and he told us that if we have two coats, we should give one to the man who has none. These things must inform our public personas as well as our church selves. We must act with wisdom, and love sometimes calls for restraint - but it never gives us permission to bolt our door and throw up walls and begin to defend ourselves and see those in need as a threat.
I admire those who keep themselves from getting caught up in a party spirit, who work diligently to find the best solutions to our common problems, and who take a lot of fire while they're working at it. This is the best kind of situation for Jesus' people to stop and ask themselves, "what would Jesus do?"
Jesus, who touched the lepers and conversed with ostracized women and washed the disciples' feet, would surely never advocate at attitude that says, "I've got mine; you're on your own."
When Jesus said loving our neighbor as ourselves was the second greatest commandment, just who did he have in mind? After all, there are huge differences between the way we live now and the way that Israelites lived when that command was first given (Lev. 19:18). Does he mean my literal next-door neighbor? Does he mean the person standing next to me at church? Does he mean "those of my tribe" - after all, he was talking to a tribal nation.
Of course, that's exactly the next question asked (by the "rich, young ruler," Luke 10:29). And Jesus made things a lot tougher on us by answering him with the story of the Good Samaritan. The upshot of his story is that our neighbor is anyone we can have mercy on, even if that is someone declared to be our enemy!
That makes trouble for us followers of Jesus when we begin to negotiate in the political sphere, because of course the mandate underlying much of politics is to win, for my group to win, my people to win, my party to win (and for those others to lose). Politics, and much of our culture, advises us to look out for number 1, because you can be sure no one else is busy looking out for you.
As Jesus' people, our mandate is to make "shalom," that whole-life harmony, health and peace of Paradise, wherever and whenever we can - that's the point of that picture given us of the first church in its worship and life together in Acts 2:42-47. It will be fleeting on this earth before the Lord returns, but that doesn't take away our task to aim at it. Our job is to have mercy wherever and whenever we can. We're supposed to be looking out for the interests of others (Phil. 2:4). We can disagree about how to do that and whether it should or should not be done through government means, but what we cannot succumb to is the temptation to say, "I've got mine; go take care of yourself." Not even if we think the troubles of others are their own fault.
Jesus told us to love our neighbor as we love ourselves - how can that not mean working for others to have the same benefits I've enjoyed?
Jesus told us that in God's kingdom the last shall be first, and the first, last; and he told us that if we have two coats, we should give one to the man who has none. These things must inform our public personas as well as our church selves. We must act with wisdom, and love sometimes calls for restraint - but it never gives us permission to bolt our door and throw up walls and begin to defend ourselves and see those in need as a threat.
I admire those who keep themselves from getting caught up in a party spirit, who work diligently to find the best solutions to our common problems, and who take a lot of fire while they're working at it. This is the best kind of situation for Jesus' people to stop and ask themselves, "what would Jesus do?"
Jesus, who touched the lepers and conversed with ostracized women and washed the disciples' feet, would surely never advocate at attitude that says, "I've got mine; you're on your own."
Thursday, July 9, 2009
It's wrong to be a fan of Jesus
Thanks to media overload, I'm still thinking about Michael Jackson.
And I'm noticing how the next step after idolizing a pop star, is turning him or her into whatever we want them to be. This human, Michael Jackson, is being credited with being the greatest entertainer who ever lived, the first person to transcend black/white racial identification, the first black entertainer to attract widespread white interest (really? My husband says that must have been a surprise to Stevie Wonder, James Brown, The Temptations, etc.), someone who taught us all to love the world and actually united the world, etc.
In response to all that, now comes the barrage of psychologists, philosophers and even ministers who are telling us what Michael Jackson "means." I guess what they really mean is, what the illusion/image of MJ means.
Somewhere under all that is the "real" Michael Jackson that none of us ever knew. Because we never knew him, all we can do is talk about the projection of who we think he is, and in some cases, want him to be.
It's that "want him to be" that makes a fan.
And there's the danger I never thought about before when it comes to something I know more about: Christians and Jesus.
Is it possible to be a "fan" of Jesus - to create out of our own desires and some limited information, a Jesus of our own making? To cheer for him, find other fans in that same Jesus, and get in fights with fans of some other "Jesus"? Do we wear his insignia, gather in fan conferences and sing his fight songs? Or like MJ fans, do we project on our "Jesus" all we want the world to be, all we want heaven to be, and what we find "spiritual"?
Ouch. I think there is more to this than I ever considered.
Jesus had lots of fans in the days when he walked the earth. But read John 6 - he intentionally dispersed them. Jesus doesn't want or need fans; he called us to be followers. And that asks of us something entirely different (although on some superficial levels, fandom and followership share some characteristics).
To be a follower is to let the living Jesus into your life. We become entirely aware of His presence, of His love, of His forgiveness -- but Jesus as Lord will make changes, and the long term effect should be that we are more like him. His character - his humility, his confidence, his love and welcome for all, his desire for God to get the glory - these things are immediately apparent when they grow in us, because they're so different from what we are naturally. "Followership" will make us different. Sometimes it will cause us trouble in the world. But it is also extremely welcome in a world where everyone is used to everyone else jockeying for position, power and acceptance.
Fandom, on the other hand, creates divisions, power grabs, fights for influence and striving for attention. Fans are interested in us v. them; fans want to wear the T shirt and find other fans to belong with. Fans turn the object of their interest into a larger representation of themselves, and attribute to their idol their own fears and wishes.
Perhaps we, being human, can't quite help mixing some fan-like behavior into our fumbling attempts at following Jesus. Maybe that is the sign of our need to grow further. But as a pastor it stands out to me this morning that this is a trap to be avoided. Fandom feels really good, but it is not following, and it is not the worship that the living Jesus wants from us.
And I'm noticing how the next step after idolizing a pop star, is turning him or her into whatever we want them to be. This human, Michael Jackson, is being credited with being the greatest entertainer who ever lived, the first person to transcend black/white racial identification, the first black entertainer to attract widespread white interest (really? My husband says that must have been a surprise to Stevie Wonder, James Brown, The Temptations, etc.), someone who taught us all to love the world and actually united the world, etc.
In response to all that, now comes the barrage of psychologists, philosophers and even ministers who are telling us what Michael Jackson "means." I guess what they really mean is, what the illusion/image of MJ means.
Somewhere under all that is the "real" Michael Jackson that none of us ever knew. Because we never knew him, all we can do is talk about the projection of who we think he is, and in some cases, want him to be.
It's that "want him to be" that makes a fan.
And there's the danger I never thought about before when it comes to something I know more about: Christians and Jesus.
Is it possible to be a "fan" of Jesus - to create out of our own desires and some limited information, a Jesus of our own making? To cheer for him, find other fans in that same Jesus, and get in fights with fans of some other "Jesus"? Do we wear his insignia, gather in fan conferences and sing his fight songs? Or like MJ fans, do we project on our "Jesus" all we want the world to be, all we want heaven to be, and what we find "spiritual"?
Ouch. I think there is more to this than I ever considered.
Jesus had lots of fans in the days when he walked the earth. But read John 6 - he intentionally dispersed them. Jesus doesn't want or need fans; he called us to be followers. And that asks of us something entirely different (although on some superficial levels, fandom and followership share some characteristics).
To be a follower is to let the living Jesus into your life. We become entirely aware of His presence, of His love, of His forgiveness -- but Jesus as Lord will make changes, and the long term effect should be that we are more like him. His character - his humility, his confidence, his love and welcome for all, his desire for God to get the glory - these things are immediately apparent when they grow in us, because they're so different from what we are naturally. "Followership" will make us different. Sometimes it will cause us trouble in the world. But it is also extremely welcome in a world where everyone is used to everyone else jockeying for position, power and acceptance.
Fandom, on the other hand, creates divisions, power grabs, fights for influence and striving for attention. Fans are interested in us v. them; fans want to wear the T shirt and find other fans to belong with. Fans turn the object of their interest into a larger representation of themselves, and attribute to their idol their own fears and wishes.
Perhaps we, being human, can't quite help mixing some fan-like behavior into our fumbling attempts at following Jesus. Maybe that is the sign of our need to grow further. But as a pastor it stands out to me this morning that this is a trap to be avoided. Fandom feels really good, but it is not following, and it is not the worship that the living Jesus wants from us.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Celebrating a win?
Tomorrow, a huge memorial service will be held for Michael Jackson.
And today, I’m shocked by the news stories about the “winners” of the lottery to attend to the Jackson service “celebrating.” Just what did they win?
You don’t have to travel far to find someone grousing about the nonstop TV coverage about Michael Jackson’s death, and it’s only a little farther to find someone complaining that Jackson doesn’t deserve all this adulation, what with the accusations against him and all. But that’s not my complaint today. I get it that someone could be both amazingly talented and flawed at the same time, and I’m not here to join in throwing stones at Michael Jackson.
But I guess what I am complaining about is our capacity to lose perspective when it comes to the death of a celebrity. What we ought to be noticing right about now is not only that celebrities put their pants on one leg at a time like everybody else, but also that “it is appointed unto men once to die” (Heb. 9:27 in the old KJV), no matter who you are.
In recent years I’ve been learning something about how quickly the closing parenthesis to our lives can come, and how quickly it can be that our life becomes a finished book, to be analyzed and remembered (or not) by others. This should be a sobering thought, and if we are reflective, it ought to make us think about the meaning and purpose of life itself.
That the same end comes to the “greats” among us should only underscore it.
So what is the meaning of strangers to Michael Jackson celebrating over winning a lottery to sit at his memorial service, as though it were the concert ticket to beat all? Perhaps it is a way for people to avert their eyes from what has really happened: that a person so talented came to such an end, that the very things he fought to keep secret are now known to everyone, that in the end we lose control. We don’t like to know those things – so turn the music up and let’s pretend it’s just one more concert, this one a tribute to the Michael we think we know.
I know nothing about where Michael Jackson stood with his creator, but I know that his creator knew all about him – knew about his hurts and his dreams and his fiercest loves, and the things he felt powerless before. So I hope that at his memorial service there is a hush that will finally overtake the circus atmosphere, that there will be a moment to recognize mortality, and even more, I hope there is a turning, from the best this life can offer, to a glimpse of eternity, and the One who invites us to know Him and love Him, even to the extent that He already knows and loves us (1 Cor. 13:12).
Janet Jackson spoke briefly at the BET awards last week, pointing out that though Michael was image and icon to his fans, to her, he was family – and her grief, over losing a brother that those celebrating their ticket win never knew, was visible in the lines of her face. Michael’s Maker knows a Michael no one else knows (and he knows a “you” and “me” that no one else knows, too) – and the meaning of that ought to fill up that hush at his service.
Let there be awe – not just at Michael Jackson’s footwork, but at the reality of death and the promise of an appointment with God. Let there be humility, that no matter how big the crowds are here that call your name, in the end you really can’t take much with you. And how would it be if then the celebration began, not to drown out the fearful specter of death, but instead to participate in the glory that we aren’t stuck in death, thanks be to God?
That’s what I’m praying for, when it comes to Michael Jackson’s memorial service.
Lord, thank you for the gifts and talents you gave this man – now have mercy on him. Surround his children and family with your comfort. And cause an awe to fall on all who are attentive to his death…that we would see death for what it is, and that we would value your overcoming it for us in Jesus. May we not turn our heads too soon, and so miss your grace. Amen.
And today, I’m shocked by the news stories about the “winners” of the lottery to attend to the Jackson service “celebrating.” Just what did they win?
You don’t have to travel far to find someone grousing about the nonstop TV coverage about Michael Jackson’s death, and it’s only a little farther to find someone complaining that Jackson doesn’t deserve all this adulation, what with the accusations against him and all. But that’s not my complaint today. I get it that someone could be both amazingly talented and flawed at the same time, and I’m not here to join in throwing stones at Michael Jackson.
But I guess what I am complaining about is our capacity to lose perspective when it comes to the death of a celebrity. What we ought to be noticing right about now is not only that celebrities put their pants on one leg at a time like everybody else, but also that “it is appointed unto men once to die” (Heb. 9:27 in the old KJV), no matter who you are.
In recent years I’ve been learning something about how quickly the closing parenthesis to our lives can come, and how quickly it can be that our life becomes a finished book, to be analyzed and remembered (or not) by others. This should be a sobering thought, and if we are reflective, it ought to make us think about the meaning and purpose of life itself.
That the same end comes to the “greats” among us should only underscore it.
So what is the meaning of strangers to Michael Jackson celebrating over winning a lottery to sit at his memorial service, as though it were the concert ticket to beat all? Perhaps it is a way for people to avert their eyes from what has really happened: that a person so talented came to such an end, that the very things he fought to keep secret are now known to everyone, that in the end we lose control. We don’t like to know those things – so turn the music up and let’s pretend it’s just one more concert, this one a tribute to the Michael we think we know.
I know nothing about where Michael Jackson stood with his creator, but I know that his creator knew all about him – knew about his hurts and his dreams and his fiercest loves, and the things he felt powerless before. So I hope that at his memorial service there is a hush that will finally overtake the circus atmosphere, that there will be a moment to recognize mortality, and even more, I hope there is a turning, from the best this life can offer, to a glimpse of eternity, and the One who invites us to know Him and love Him, even to the extent that He already knows and loves us (1 Cor. 13:12).
Janet Jackson spoke briefly at the BET awards last week, pointing out that though Michael was image and icon to his fans, to her, he was family – and her grief, over losing a brother that those celebrating their ticket win never knew, was visible in the lines of her face. Michael’s Maker knows a Michael no one else knows (and he knows a “you” and “me” that no one else knows, too) – and the meaning of that ought to fill up that hush at his service.
Let there be awe – not just at Michael Jackson’s footwork, but at the reality of death and the promise of an appointment with God. Let there be humility, that no matter how big the crowds are here that call your name, in the end you really can’t take much with you. And how would it be if then the celebration began, not to drown out the fearful specter of death, but instead to participate in the glory that we aren’t stuck in death, thanks be to God?
That’s what I’m praying for, when it comes to Michael Jackson’s memorial service.
Lord, thank you for the gifts and talents you gave this man – now have mercy on him. Surround his children and family with your comfort. And cause an awe to fall on all who are attentive to his death…that we would see death for what it is, and that we would value your overcoming it for us in Jesus. May we not turn our heads too soon, and so miss your grace. Amen.
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