And then you die.

You live some sort of a life.

… And then you die.

I’ve been stricken (yet again) by this ultra-simple, basic – and yet profound and compelling fact.  You will live a life, and then you will die.  This has loads of implications, doesn’t it?

What kind of life are you living right now?  Here’s a “for instance”…

If you saw a homeless man that needed shoes, would you offer the pair on your feet?  Moreover, would you acquaint yourself with this man?  If the answer is “no”, it may be worth it to ask the question, “why not?”

Because honestly, shoes are an expense – but they aren’t a major expense (not necessarily, anyway).  It would cost you an uncomfortable walk to your car, and an average price of about $40 to replace your kicks.  So you’d lose about 20 minutes of comfort, an hour or so of convenience, and $40.

If this isn’t a sacrifice you’d be willing to make for another human being in need of shoes, then it may be time to evaluate your life a bit.

Because one day, you’ll die.  And you and God will have a chat about your life.

Life is too short to live in normalcy.  Be ridiculous.  Do things that don’t make sense, for the welfare of your fellow man.  Oh, how brightly God shines in the margins!

Grace and Peace.  -jc

Which “Hell” is Worse?

When you follow ancient teachings – like those of the Judaic lineage, or like the teachings of Jesus – you find out just how much discussion has gone on…  and for just how long.  You find out your questions are never anything unique from those that your forefathers have already asked.  It’s an honor, really.  It also sets a much safer stage for deep study and…  well, questioning.

The question that’s been on my mind most lately is about Hell.

I have some legitimate questions about its nature, and about what kind of “hell” the bible is talking about in the scriptures.  Interestingly enough, the first time any other word than “Sheol” is used to describe hell (Sheol being an actual geographic location – a cave with an evil reputation, to be exact) is in the New Testament.

So until the gospels, hell – or what we currently think of when we hear the word – was something people could point out.  They could walk to it.  You didn’t want to go there, because pagan rituals were performed on the cave’s surface in honor of gods other than the one True God, Yahweh…  and those rituals were disgusting.  Evil.  Folks even believed that evil spirits came in and out of the cave.

So we have Old Testament authors talking about being delivered from Sheol and its “power”.

What does that mean?  Are the authors legitimizing the cave as a “Netherworld” of sorts, or are they speaking more of – brace yourselves – human evils?

There’s a reason I ask that question.  I think it’s safe to say there is a hell across the pond called “Darfur”.  There’s another called “The Redlight District”, and another called “Uganda”.  Another in the ganglands of the cities surrounding us.

Another here.

And another there.

Could it be that the church has focused so much on the eternal destiny of mankind that it has overlooked humanity’s earthly plight?

But here’s the good part…  Heaven is also here.  And there.  This little blog could have easily been called “Which Heaven is Better?”, but it just didn’t quite have the same jarring ring to it that probably grabbed your attention, and brought you here to share your thoughts.  Headlines are everything, right?

Heaven.  Is.  Here.  Under the lordship of Christ, we are seated in the heavenlies.  Right now.  The kingdom of God is at hand.

So now we have a legitimate reason for our emphatic activism:  to give ‘em heaven.  Go to the hells of the world, and take them by storm with all of heaven’s glory and mercy behind you.  We can’t be overwhelmed by the present suffering of the world.  We need to be overwhelmed by Christ’s love, which drives us to bring others into it.  This story ends in victory.  God will see to it.  So what are you afraid of?

Give ‘em heaven.    -jc

Practical Preaching

 

Isaiah 61     1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,         because the LORD has anointed me          to preach good news to the poor.         He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,         to proclaim freedom for the captives         and release from darkness for the prisoners,  2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor         and the day of vengeance of our God,         to comfort all who mourn,  3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—         to bestow on them a crown of beauty         instead of ashes,         the oil of gladness         instead of mourning,         and a garment of praise         instead of a spirit of despair.         They will be called oaks of righteousness,         a planting of the LORD         for the display of his splendor.  4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins         and restore the places long devastated;         they will renew the ruined cities         that have been devastated for generations.

~

We all know there is some serious truth in most cliches, right?  

But man, do I hate ‘em.  I’m not going to lie – they give me that icky, corny feeling.  Like there is a lack of intelligence that caused an individual to recycle old, tired “jargon”, if you will.  Like it’s the brain’s most lazy track or rut of “association” (i.e. “this immediately reminds me of that”; and rusty old cliches are vomited quickly from the mouth).

Therefore, I typically try to stay away from cliches.  And unfortunately, I think it’s robbing me a little bit.  Yeah.  My fear of sappiness can definitely keep me from learning some important lessons.  

Let’s take this one, for example:  “Practice what you preach.”

It’s interesting…  I was at Passion City Church this past Sunday night at the Tabernacle (http://www.passioncitychurch.com), and Louie Giglio – the pastor – brought up the scripture I placed at the top of this post.  His main assertion that he drew for the audience was about bringing God’s love to “the broken-hearted”, “the captive”, and “all who mourn”.  And he made it clear that the application was “practical”…  not just idealism.

So I started thinking about this word “preach”.  It makes what I find to be a very interesting appearance in the very first part of the very first verse of the passage (as it does in many translations):  “to preach good news to the poor”.

If I walk by a poor man and tell him, “I’ll be praying for you – God is good”, does he believe me?  It may be “good news”, but he probably won’t buy it.  So are my words preaching to that man – to “the poor” that God’s affection surrounds in the bible?  Again, I’m thinking no.

But if I sit with him a while and talk with him, find out if he’s hungry, meet that very immediate need, and then see what other needs I can meet for him, surrounding him with my affections…  then is he more likely to believe me when I tell him, “God is good”?  Yeah – that’s “good news”.  So my words weren’t really  preaching…  at least by themselves.

But my actions are.  I’d venture to say they can nearly stand alone as “preaching the gospel”.

To me, the word “preach” is losing more and more of it’s vocal meaning, and gaining tons of significance in the area of “practice”.  I don’t think “practicing” and “preaching” are two separate things.  I think it’s fair to say they are the same.

Now, am I going to just do all kinds of wonderful things for people and never tell them that it’s the love of Christ that compels me to do so?  Are you nuts?!

But let’s just say I didn’t ever say a word.  Who’s more likely to find hope?  The man I “wordlessly” treat with love and care as human being, or the man to whom I toss a few words about the bible?

Hmmm.

 

Grace and Peace.  -jc