Spirit's wind, life's breath...

               Ezekiel was a prophet of the Judean exiles in Babylon more than 550 years before the time of Christ.  He ministered during an era when many had begun to question whether the God of Israel would be faithful to the promises he made to Abraham and David.  The temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, many of the people had been removed from the Promised Land, and there was no king to lead God’s people.  Could YHWH be trusted?  Was YHWH still supreme?  What would be the fate of Israel?  To answer these questions, Ezekiel was transported by the Spirit to a valley full of dry bones.  Ezekiel was asked whether or not the bones could live?  His answer: “I don’t know.”  God’s breath, his Spirit, then began to move and what happens next is nothing short of a resurrection.  I penned a poem inspired by this passage several years ago.  The first stanza went like this...

Lying in the dust, the corpse rots through and through.

There's no more life to live, there's nothing left to do.

Then the bones begin to rattle, the bones begin to shake.

The sinews and the flesh, new life begins to make.

Gasping deep, lungs expanding, Spirit's wind, life's breath.

The living God's the giving God and life has conquered death!

Ezekiel was told that the dead bones represent Israel and that God will bring them from their graves and put them back in their land.  In addition to this, he’ll put his own Spirit within them and they will live.  Though clearly metaphorical, this ancient vision helped inform the development of the Jewish theology of resurrection, which of course informed the Christian understanding of both spiritual and physical resurrection.  Our God is fully capable of, and quite frankly, anxious, to resurrect our broken lives.  Our spiritual resurrections point us to the future when the last enemy, death, will be defeated completely and God will bring our physical bodies out of our graves and into his glorious new world to live with him forever.  If our God is able to do this, then is there anything beyond his reach?  If even your decayed, rotted, mortal body can be given new breath and new life some day, then why not your present life now?  If God can raise the dead (and we know he did - Jesus), then why can't he raise you from whatever ash heap you may find yourself in spiritually?  Why not at least be as open minded as Ezekiel and say, "I don't know."?  God is a God of surprises! - Shay     

The Gift of Grace

               Grace is an amazing thing.  The older I get, the more aware I am of my continual need for it.  I need grace from my wife and daughter because I don’t always get it right as a husband or father.  I need grace from my parents and sisters because I have not always been the son or brother that God created me to be.  I need grace from my friends and neighbors because I can be a lousy friend and a bad neighbor.  And I need grace from my brothers and sisters in Christ because I’ve sometimes failed them as a minister in Christ’s church and as a fellow disciple and sojourner. 

               Thankfully, following Jesus isn’t about getting everything just right all of the time.  Following Jesus is about fixing our eyes on him, getting back up when we stumble and fall, and slowly, but surely, continuing along the way until we finally reach maturity and completeness in him.  Sure, we’re called to deny ourselves and to take up our crosses as we follow Jesus.  But even then, we often get self-denial and cross-bearing wrong.  So thank God there’s grace all along the way!  Jesus’ first disciples frequently misunderstood him, acted as stumbling blocks for him, and even denied that they ever knew him.  And yet, Jesus shared these words with them, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age – houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions – and in the age to come eternal life.” (Mark 10:29-30).  As I inadequately continue to follow the path that Jesus tread, I’m reminded that I need to be willing to extend grace to others because I’ve received so much grace from so many, especially Jesus.  From whom have you received grace?  To whom do you need to extend it? - Shay        

Transformation Takes Time

            We live in an instant society.  It seems like an already fast-paced world is getting faster and faster by the day.  Boredom with just about everything is on the rise.  If we have to wait for anything, it’s just not worth it.  In such a world, patience is a much needed virtue.    

            In our spiritual lives, patience is even more important.  The reality for all of us is that spiritual maturity and transformation takes time.  It’s a process.  By just adding (boiling) water you can make instant oatmeal, but in the life of the Christian it isn’t so simple.  Some have mistakenly assumed that after rising from the waters of baptism and beginning their new life in Christ everything will be perfect and there won’t be any hiccups along the way.  Eventually reality comes along and blows this misunderstanding to shreds.  It becomes easy to lose patience with others, and especially ourselves.  Becoming conformed to the image of Christ is a long and slow process for the most diligent follower of Jesus.  For a slow learner like me, it has at times proven to be especially frustrating.

            But thankfully Jesus is especially patient.  He spent three years with 12 knucklehead disciples and not once did he give up on them.  Sure, he occasionally let them know that he was frustrated with their lack of understanding, but he continued to touch their lives until his teaching sunk in.  We can be sure that though we so often get it wrong, as long as we continue to stumble and crawl behind our master we will eventually begin to resemble the one we follow.  Patience is a virtue and thankfully Jesus has plenty of it!  - Shay

Unclean Dogs

               We see them every day.  We pass them on the street, in the grocery store aisle, in the halls at school and at work.  We don’t refer to them as dogs, but sometimes we might treat them as such.  We may not call them unclean, but sometimes we’re unwilling to touch them.  They’re the marginalized, the ostracized, the outcasts, the leftovers, and the left-outs.  They’re the worldly, immoral, irresponsible, and irredeemable.  Or are they?

               When we pass by a mirror from time to time, we’re reminded that we not only used to live like them, we were them.  Sometimes we still are them.  But sometimes we forget.  We forget that though they may seem like unclean dogs, like us, they’re people made in God’s image and in need of the forgiveness and healing that only Jesus can bring.  

               The good news for them and for us is that Jesus doesn’t merely heal us, he transforms us as we move through death into new life.  In Mark chapter 5 Jesus essentially resurrects a man who had been enduring nothing short of a living death.  Later in that chapter he heals a woman who had lived in an unclean state for 12 years.  At the end of Mark 5, Jesus speaks words of life to a little girl who had tragically died at the age of 12.  She’s resurrected and the unclean stain of death is removed.  When one reads ahead to Mark chapter 7, the theme of uncleanness is again brought to the fore.  As the Pharisees and scribes argue with Jesus about ritual purity and uncleanness, Jesus gets to the heart of the matter and reminds us that our inward lives have far more to do with our unclean states than our physical hygiene.  Then he speaks words of grace to an unclean Gentile woman.  Through these stories we’re reminded that though we all were once unclean, we can be made clean through God’s power initiated through the gospel of Jesus Christ! - Shay

12 Years a Slave

I love to try and identify with characters in the Biblical narrative.  After reading through Mark 5:21-43, I wrote the following.  One might describe it as the gospel according to Jairus and an unnamed woman whom we will affectionately call Martha.

The Gospel According to Martha

My name is Martha and I can still remember the month it happened.  It was like any other month, maybe just a bit heavier than usual, but nothing to be alarmed about.  I did what I would usually do – what I was required to do by the Law of Moses.  I kept myself separate and I made sure that I didn’t touch anyone or anything that might cause someone else to become unclean.  But at the end of the week, my period didn’t stop.  It seemed like it would get lighter, but then, it would come back heavy.  It went like this for days and days.  I began to get worried.  I was in my unclean state for weeks and so I began to see healers, physicians, anyone who could help me.  I spent all I had trying to be cured, but I never got any better, I only got worse.  I never could have imagined that this ailment, this affliction would stay with me for months, even years.  I struggled so much just to have enough energy to get through the day.  No matter how much I would eat, I always felt weak.  And isolated.  I got so lonely.  I gave up on ever trying to have a husband.  No man in his right mind would ever want to marry me.  They would be unclean, unable to live a normal life, unable to have children, or even be able to enjoy making love to their wife.  Eventually, after a few years, I learned to accept my status as an outsider, as one unclean -   unable to worship at the temple and unable to be in normal fellowship with the rest of my countrymen and women.  For 12 long years, this was my reality.  I was a slave, 12 years a slave, until…

The Gospel According to Jairus

My name is Jairus and I will never forget the day my little girl was born.  I was so proud!  She was my firstborn – my only child.  My wife and I wanted other sons and daughters, but she was the only one that God had seen fit to give us.  But, oh, did we love her.  Our nickname for her was Talitha – little girl.  Even as she grew older, we affectionately called her by this name.  She was a daddy’s girl, though she loved her momma too and wanted to be just like her.  Sometimes, I would take her with me to the Synagogue as I would prepare for our worship the day before the Sabbath.  I also remember taking her on walks along the shore at the sea.  We would walk along the rocky beaches, taking time to skip rocks or wade out into the shallows.  As she got older, I could see that she was becoming more and more like her mom.  She was beautiful.  I'll never forget the day she got sick.  It wasn’t long after her 12^th birthday.  She had complained of a headache that morning and a few hours later, she collapsed in our kitchen.  We took her into the back room of our home and tried to cool her fevered body with wet rags.  Nothing seemed to work.  We tried to give her every herb and every medicinal concoction that we could find, but she only got worse.  And then it hit me.  I had heard of a miracle worker, a rabbi from Nazareth who had become famous across Galilee for his healing abilities.  In fact, once, when Talitha and I were out on one of our seaside walks, we had witnessed a crowd who had gathered to hear him teach.  The crowd was so large he had got into a boat and floated out on the water to give himself some room.  I knew that he frequently crossed the sea.  In fact, some of his disciples were fisherman, so maybe if I went down by the shore I could find him.  Maybe, just maybe he would be able to do something!

According to Martha

I saw the crowd swarming him down by the sea as he climbed out of the boat.  But then, he paused.  In the middle of this mass of humanity, a man had fallen at Jesus’ feet and seemed to be desperately begging him for something.  Jesus lifted the man up and began to follow him.  The crowd also pressed in and went with them.  I struggled to catch up and as I wedged my way in-between the people a thought crossed my mind.  “This rabbi is so godly, so righteous, so full of God’s power, that if I only touch his clothes, then God will heal me through that single touch.”  I anxiously approached, weaving my way through the herd, until finally, I was able to reach out and skim the edge of his cloak with my fingertips.  I immediately felt a feeling I hadn’t had for 12 years.  My bleeding stopped and I felt a rush of energy cascade through my body.  I was healed!  But before I could make my way out of the crowd, Jesus turned around and shouted, “Who touched my clothes?”  What was I to do?  I was so afraid.  Maybe I shouldn’t have gone about things this way?  I had hoped to make a quiet escape, to draw no attention to myself, but it was obvious that Jesus realized that power had left him.  He wanted to know who had been healed and though I was scared to death, I slowly pushed my way through the people and fell down at his feet and told him everything.  With a tear in his eye and the sound of hope in his voice he simply said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  For 12 long years I had been a slave to my bleeding womb.  What God had designed to be an instrument of life, for me had become an instrument of death, until - until that day when I reached out to Jesus and he spoke those words of life.

According to Jairus

“Jesus, I know that if you will just come and lay your hands on my little girl, she’ll be healed, she’ll live.”  Those were the words I uttered as I fell on my face and begged Jesus to come and do something for my dying daughter.  Jesus immediately went with me, no questions asked - he just agreed and followed me.  I didn’t even notice the large crowd that was following us as we hurriedly made our way to my home, until – until Jesus all of the sudden froze.  He spun around and shouted “Who touched my clothes?”  “What’s going on?” I thought.  Why is he stopping?  Doesn’t he know my daughter will die if we don’t get there soon!  Jesus and his disciples seemed to be arguing about something and then a woman fell down at Jesus’ feet and began to timidly tell him how for 12 years she had lived in a state of uncleanness, bleeding, living in isolation, but that now, after having touched his clothes she was free from her affliction.  While Jesus responded to the woman, all I could do was think about my 12 year old daughter who laid dying in our home.  And then I saw them approaching us - some of the local professional mourners.  They had already begun to gather at our house.  That could only mean one thing.  Our little Talitha had died.  They confirmed the bad news and told us that Jesus shouldn’t be bothered any longer.  There’s nothing that could be done now.  Our girl who had emerged from the womb only 12 years prior would soon enter the cold dark womb of a tomb.  Death had stung.  Death had won. 

But Jesus turned back towards me, overhearing the mourners’ lamentation.  He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in my tear-filled eyes and said, “Do not fear, only believe!”  Then he motioned for me and three of his disciples to follow him.  When we arrived at the house, the professional mourners were in full flight.  They were weeping, wailing, hollering, and screaming.  What a production they were putting on!  But Jesus calmly eyed the scene and confidently said, “Why are you making such a commotion?  The child isn’t dead, she’s just asleep.”  Even professionals sometimes slip up.  They went from crying for my daughter to laughing at Jesus.  I didn’t know what to think at this point – was I to hope or was I to fear?  I feared the worst and hoped for the best as Jesus dismissed the mourners and took my wife and his disciples in to see our lifeless little girl.  Jesus gently grasped her hand and softly spoke the words, “Talitha cum – little girl, get up.”  Talitha gasped for breath, opened her eyes, and began to walk around the room.  My little girl was alive!  For 12 short years, I had raised my daughter, expecting that one day she would be married and have children of her own.  But death had come and done its worst and for a moment, my hopes and dreams were shattered.  I had lost my only daughter and the hopes of grandchildren had vanished as well.  Until…until he took her by the hand and he spoke those words of life. - Shay

Celebrate Good Times

Everyone likes a party!  Well, maybe not everyone, but most of the people I know enjoy a good party from time to time.  Jesus certainly liked to party.  Throughout his ministry, Jesus was constantly in other people’s homes, sharing food, drinking wine, and celebrating the goodness of God’s creation.  But that’s not the only reason Jesus liked to celebrate.  He was also initiating the in-breaking of God’s Kingdom.  Through writings like those found in Isaiah, God’s people had looked forward to a time when YHWH would act decisively on behalf of Israel to bring his reign and rule to the ends of the earth.  Isaiah 25:6-9 says, “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.  And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever.  Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken.  It will be said on that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us.  This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”  In his ministry, especially when he ate and drank with others, Jesus was signaling that this long awaited day had finally dawned.

God’s Kingdom has broken in on our world through the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Christ.  And as we await the final consummation of that Kingdom, we, like Jesus, would do well to celebrate what God has already done, what he is presently doing, and what he will finally do in the future to bring all things to completion.  Like Jesus did, one of the best ways to point people to the reality of the Kingdom of God is to celebrate and have a party.  On Saturday, October 3 from 6-8 pm, the Burleson Church of Christ will welcome our friends and neighbors to celebrate God’s work in our world.  Hopefully we will point those who join us to the good life that can be found through our King Jesus! - Shay

Reached Out and Touched Him

I'm teaching the gospel of Mark on Wednesday evenings here at our new congregation, Burleson Church of Christ.  We're beginning (fittingly) with chapter one tomorrow evening.  At the end of the chapter there's a story that's become one of my favorites in Mark's account of Jesus' life.  Here's my paraphrase of the event and some reflections.

A social and religious outcast - a leper - approached Jesus and fell on his face and cried out, "If you choose, you can heal me."  Moved with compassion, Jesus not only healed the man, but also reached out and touched him, saying, "I do choose.  You're cleansed."  At once the disease was gone and the leper lost his outsider status.  Jesus warned him not to tell anyone, but to do what the law required so that he might be welcomed back into normal life and society.  But the man couldn't keep this good news to himself and as the message spread, Jesus was increasingly forced to avoid urban areas.  But even out in the country, people traveled to see him.

We can empathize with the leper in this story.  Maybe we know what it's like to be a social outcast.  Or maybe we've suffered from a chronic condition or a serious, lingering illness.  All of us know what it's like to be separated from our God.  We've all had moments where we ask, with hesitation, for Jesus to at least consider cleansing us of our sins.  When we finally have reached the point where we realize that we'll never be able to clean ourselves up, we fall on our faces and we say those words, "if you choose...Jesus, you can make me clean."

Just as in this story, we can be sure that Jesus' response is always, "I do choose.  Be made clean!"  Our God is a God who loves the unlovable and touches the untouchable.  He's not concerned with our sin, our brokenness, our disease somehow infecting him, rather his healing and cleansing power is contagious and infectious - spreading and transforming every single fiber of our being until we've become holy, like him.  He has compassion for us and will not stop his work in us until it's brought to completion.  This is good news - good news that penetrates our hearts, and good news that's meant to be shared. - Shay