Friday, February 27, 2004
The Passion of Jesus Christ. Everyone is talking about it. The film depicting the last twelve hours of Jesus' life and death is going to be the biggest grossing film concerning Christ in history. Period. And the most controversial.
Why? 1 Cor 1:23-25 predicted a long time ago how the message of the Christ and His cross will be received.
Paul said "but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength."
The message of the cross has always been controversial. That is because it is the blood which saves us - the blood of Christ.
Many are shocked at the graphic nature of the film but the spittings, beatings, floggings, etc. But to those who read the Bible, they are nothing more than reality. The Passion may be accurate "reality show" ever - and a lot less violent than many action hero films. The difference is that this violence served a purpose. Christ's death was intentional. Like He said in the film, nobody took his life, he freely gave it.
As far as the question "Who killed Jesus" goes, we have to remember that that it's not really important who actually drove the nails. What is important is that Christ's reason for choosing to die that death. It was so that people like you and me could experience forgiveness. And I need that.
I've often heard it said if I had been the only one who had sinned and needed Jesus to die, He would have done that just for me. And it's true.
Jewish friends need not shoulder the indictment of Christ's death alone. All of us who have sinned put Jesus on the cross - and that is all of us.
(When a Midwestern church placed a sign in front saying "The Jews Killed Jesus" and it appeared on the local news, my wife Judy noticed the clip on one of many cable networks. It popped her cork and she called the church. Reaching the associate pastor, she asked for the pastor and he said "He's on the phone with someone from CA." She said "That's interesting, I'm from CA." She expressed concern over the message they were sending and the associate said "Our pastor does things without thinking sometimes" and went on to explain that they would be putting up a retraction. I was thankful for Judy and for the retraction. It's important to remember that we all contributed to the need for His death and can all benefit from His saving grace.
The Passion of Jesus Christ will touch many lives. It may be, as some have said, the largest evangelistic tool in this century. If so, it's because it's the heart of the Christian message. Christ died for our sins and was raised on the third day. And that is called "THE GOSPEL". That's why it will be the film I like the least and need the most. And in my mind, I need to view it every day.
Why? 1 Cor 1:23-25 predicted a long time ago how the message of the Christ and His cross will be received.
Paul said "but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength."
The message of the cross has always been controversial. That is because it is the blood which saves us - the blood of Christ.
Many are shocked at the graphic nature of the film but the spittings, beatings, floggings, etc. But to those who read the Bible, they are nothing more than reality. The Passion may be accurate "reality show" ever - and a lot less violent than many action hero films. The difference is that this violence served a purpose. Christ's death was intentional. Like He said in the film, nobody took his life, he freely gave it.
As far as the question "Who killed Jesus" goes, we have to remember that that it's not really important who actually drove the nails. What is important is that Christ's reason for choosing to die that death. It was so that people like you and me could experience forgiveness. And I need that.
I've often heard it said if I had been the only one who had sinned and needed Jesus to die, He would have done that just for me. And it's true.
Jewish friends need not shoulder the indictment of Christ's death alone. All of us who have sinned put Jesus on the cross - and that is all of us.
(When a Midwestern church placed a sign in front saying "The Jews Killed Jesus" and it appeared on the local news, my wife Judy noticed the clip on one of many cable networks. It popped her cork and she called the church. Reaching the associate pastor, she asked for the pastor and he said "He's on the phone with someone from CA." She said "That's interesting, I'm from CA." She expressed concern over the message they were sending and the associate said "Our pastor does things without thinking sometimes" and went on to explain that they would be putting up a retraction. I was thankful for Judy and for the retraction. It's important to remember that we all contributed to the need for His death and can all benefit from His saving grace.
The Passion of Jesus Christ will touch many lives. It may be, as some have said, the largest evangelistic tool in this century. If so, it's because it's the heart of the Christian message. Christ died for our sins and was raised on the third day. And that is called "THE GOSPEL". That's why it will be the film I like the least and need the most. And in my mind, I need to view it every day.
Friday, February 13, 2004
My favorite movies are about teachers. From To Sir with Love to Dead Poet Society to Mona Lisa Smile, they all have elements that I resonate with for some reason.
Mr Holland's Opus tells the story of a band teacher in the 60's. He would rather be a muscian but hopes his teaching position is temporary. His life, as it unfolds, doesn't leave much time or energy for a musical legacy.
Over 35 years, he eventually develops a life mission in teaching the arts to students but is about, once again, to lose his position in school cuts.
As he comes to his classroom to get his belongings after teaching his final class, he sadly gathers his stuff along with the memories of his career. His family joins him.
As they begin to leave, he hears some noise in the auditorium. As he checks it out, he sees a overflow crowd of his former students and fellow teachers and sees the banner that says “Goodbye, Mr. Holland.” He is greeted with a standing ovation while a ensemble plays songs he taught them. Eventually the governor (a former student of Holland's) arrives. He had helped her believe in herself and she addresses everyone.
“Mr. Holland had a profound influence in my life (on a lot of lives, I know), and yet I get the feeling that he considers a great part of his life misspent. Rumor had it he was always working on this symphony of his, and this was going to make him famous and rich (probably both). But Mr. Holland isn’t rich and he isn’t famous. At least not outside our little town. So it might be easy for him to think himself a failure, but he’d be wrong. Because I think he’s achieved a success far beyond riches and fame.”
She then says “Look around you. There is not a life in this room that you have not touched, and each one of us is a better person because of you. We are your symphony, Mr. Holland. We are the melodies and the notes of your opus. And we are the music of your life.”
_________________________________
In some ways, that is my life. The church is my opus. God's opus. I have often reflected on what course my life could have taken or career paths I could have pursued. But it always comes back to this. The church is the only instititution in this world that matters eternally.
I feel like Paul sometimes... when he said ...
We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us. Surely you remember, brothers, our toil and hardship; we worked night and day in order not to be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to you.
1 Thess 2:8-9
I know that I've not been perfect by a longshot at modeling Christ to others. But I long for real authentic community where Christ is honored. To the degree that this has happened in the ministry I participate in, it's opus enough.
* Opus - A creative work, (especially musical) numbered to designate the order of a composer's works.
Mr Holland's Opus tells the story of a band teacher in the 60's. He would rather be a muscian but hopes his teaching position is temporary. His life, as it unfolds, doesn't leave much time or energy for a musical legacy.
Over 35 years, he eventually develops a life mission in teaching the arts to students but is about, once again, to lose his position in school cuts.
As he comes to his classroom to get his belongings after teaching his final class, he sadly gathers his stuff along with the memories of his career. His family joins him.
As they begin to leave, he hears some noise in the auditorium. As he checks it out, he sees a overflow crowd of his former students and fellow teachers and sees the banner that says “Goodbye, Mr. Holland.” He is greeted with a standing ovation while a ensemble plays songs he taught them. Eventually the governor (a former student of Holland's) arrives. He had helped her believe in herself and she addresses everyone.
“Mr. Holland had a profound influence in my life (on a lot of lives, I know), and yet I get the feeling that he considers a great part of his life misspent. Rumor had it he was always working on this symphony of his, and this was going to make him famous and rich (probably both). But Mr. Holland isn’t rich and he isn’t famous. At least not outside our little town. So it might be easy for him to think himself a failure, but he’d be wrong. Because I think he’s achieved a success far beyond riches and fame.”
She then says “Look around you. There is not a life in this room that you have not touched, and each one of us is a better person because of you. We are your symphony, Mr. Holland. We are the melodies and the notes of your opus. And we are the music of your life.”
_________________________________
In some ways, that is my life. The church is my opus. God's opus. I have often reflected on what course my life could have taken or career paths I could have pursued. But it always comes back to this. The church is the only instititution in this world that matters eternally.
I feel like Paul sometimes... when he said ...
We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us. Surely you remember, brothers, our toil and hardship; we worked night and day in order not to be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to you.
1 Thess 2:8-9
I know that I've not been perfect by a longshot at modeling Christ to others. But I long for real authentic community where Christ is honored. To the degree that this has happened in the ministry I participate in, it's opus enough.
* Opus - A creative work, (especially musical) numbered to designate the order of a composer's works.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
I'm always amazed by the grace of God and how quickly I forget it.
Our son had an accident that resulted in his arm being broken. Unfortunately, he was in a window of time without health insurance, having passed the age to be on our policy and not having picked it up through employment.
After a night in the emergency room, he needed to do some follow up with an orthopedic doctor. Together, we went to an office in Escondido and at the counter I asked them Could I make an appt. for my son? We don't have health insurance. They said abruptly "We're sorry; if you don't have health insurance, we can't help you". I said "I do have a checkbook." With several gals in the office pool, the one continued "You see, you don't have insurance and so you'd need $400.00 or more to be seen. And if your son needs surgery, it WILL BE thousands and you don't have that so I'm sorry. You don't have health insurance! I replied "I do have a son". [I noticed the Doctors standing nearby and with every receptionist listening in, I noticed that none of the Drs would make eye contact.
After what seemed like an eternity, I said quietly "What do you suggest? I paused and waited. Finally one nurse came over to me and said "here is a number of an agency that might be able to help you". I thanked her.
The number was that of a social service branch that would consider helping if the mountain of red tape could be worked through. We needed paperwork from many places and I realized it would take days to gather.
Then I remembered that Judy had been our doctor and they had told her of a neighborhood clinic that might at least take out the stitches and look at the broken arm. By that day and at this point, both Jon and I were exasperated. We nearly gave up in discouragement after having trouble finding the street of the clinic. AND THEN...(I know God was leading all the way -hindsite is 20/20) we stumbled across the place.
Going into the strip mall where the clinic was located it looked like the kind of neighborhood I would not want to leave my car in. Upon entering, I realized my assessment was accurate. I found us sitting among the poor of the poor. The place reaked with poverty.
But something else stood out. By stark contrast to what I'd experienced just a half hour before, everyone working in the clinic seemed to have a certain way about them... something like joy.
They said yes, a Dr. could look at the injuries. At this point, after burdens had piled up all day long, I decided to go out to my car and get my Bible so I could let God minister to me. (Normally I confess that a "People Magazine" might have found it's way to me, but somehow instinctively I felt a hunger for the God of comfort.
The nurse came to invite Jon back to the examination room. I decided to let him handle it as he was a bit weary of me intervening for him. I was content to let him deal with it. But then a door opened again and the nurse prompted me to come back and "be with my son". Jon nodded acceptance.
Seated in the waiting room, I settled in my seat with the Bible closed and tucked against my chest. Just then the door opened and a Dr. came in. I took note of him because he seemed very confident and competent. Oddly, I thought as he started to do his work that he didn't seem to fit in the clinic amidst all of the poverty.
"Is that a good book?" he quipped as I realized he was referring to the Bible tucked in my arms. I looked down to realize that all he could see was the back of a John Maxwell study Bible - only the words "Leadership, God's way...". He said "I love leadership".
I mumbled something about it being more than a good book, but THE Good Book. He said with great grace "I am a believer". He asked where I fellowshipped and he mentioned his church.
He then went on to explain that Jon was in "no man's land" - too old for one type of help and too young for another. Jon reminded him of his age and he realized his records were wrong. He quickly said "wait just a few minutes and let me check some things out".
He came back in and said "We will get this thing worked out". Suddenly he said "You're the pastor of the church". I said yes (wondering if I simply looked like a pastor looks or something). He thoroughly explained all he would do for Jon and said "You are helping others all the time, it's the least we can do. As an MD I have some connections and we'll get this done; it won't cost you anything!
Suddenly I felt the tears streaming down my face and I said to him (I didn't and don't know his name) Can I say this is how our GREAT God works?
Several nurses were all gathered around him and each stopped and with a certain understanding just nodded. Jon, sitting with a brand new splint on his arm, said "My faith is restored today".
What happened next I am not proud of. I reach in my pocket and pull out a business card and hand it to the Dr. and blurt out
OSir, if there anyone you know that could use some help or someone to have coffee with or anything, I'd be happy to minister to them. (It was kinda like offering God $.10 to cover his gift of salvation). He with a great deal of grace glanced at the card and said "...Sam..." You help people all day long. Just "pay it forward".
Jon and I looked at each other and our eyes locked. We'd seen our Great God at work.
By the time we got the parking lot (glad to see my car still there) I blurted out "There are still good people in this world after all".
God had sent me to a street Clinic to make sure I don't wander far from that rung of society... I needed to see the brokenness to deal with pride. He put on a viritual "clinic" on leadership before my eyes by a physican who knew why he was here on earth. And to witness teamwork in a staff that served not only me, but everyone that day as if we were princes.
I said to Jon "God has done this for me 10,000 times and yet I wake up and wonder if he can really care for me this day.
I repented and acknowleged HIM!
Our son had an accident that resulted in his arm being broken. Unfortunately, he was in a window of time without health insurance, having passed the age to be on our policy and not having picked it up through employment.
After a night in the emergency room, he needed to do some follow up with an orthopedic doctor. Together, we went to an office in Escondido and at the counter I asked them Could I make an appt. for my son? We don't have health insurance. They said abruptly "We're sorry; if you don't have health insurance, we can't help you". I said "I do have a checkbook." With several gals in the office pool, the one continued "You see, you don't have insurance and so you'd need $400.00 or more to be seen. And if your son needs surgery, it WILL BE thousands and you don't have that so I'm sorry. You don't have health insurance! I replied "I do have a son". [I noticed the Doctors standing nearby and with every receptionist listening in, I noticed that none of the Drs would make eye contact.
After what seemed like an eternity, I said quietly "What do you suggest? I paused and waited. Finally one nurse came over to me and said "here is a number of an agency that might be able to help you". I thanked her.
The number was that of a social service branch that would consider helping if the mountain of red tape could be worked through. We needed paperwork from many places and I realized it would take days to gather.
Then I remembered that Judy had been our doctor and they had told her of a neighborhood clinic that might at least take out the stitches and look at the broken arm. By that day and at this point, both Jon and I were exasperated. We nearly gave up in discouragement after having trouble finding the street of the clinic. AND THEN...(I know God was leading all the way -hindsite is 20/20) we stumbled across the place.
Going into the strip mall where the clinic was located it looked like the kind of neighborhood I would not want to leave my car in. Upon entering, I realized my assessment was accurate. I found us sitting among the poor of the poor. The place reaked with poverty.
But something else stood out. By stark contrast to what I'd experienced just a half hour before, everyone working in the clinic seemed to have a certain way about them... something like joy.
They said yes, a Dr. could look at the injuries. At this point, after burdens had piled up all day long, I decided to go out to my car and get my Bible so I could let God minister to me. (Normally I confess that a "People Magazine" might have found it's way to me, but somehow instinctively I felt a hunger for the God of comfort.
The nurse came to invite Jon back to the examination room. I decided to let him handle it as he was a bit weary of me intervening for him. I was content to let him deal with it. But then a door opened again and the nurse prompted me to come back and "be with my son". Jon nodded acceptance.
Seated in the waiting room, I settled in my seat with the Bible closed and tucked against my chest. Just then the door opened and a Dr. came in. I took note of him because he seemed very confident and competent. Oddly, I thought as he started to do his work that he didn't seem to fit in the clinic amidst all of the poverty.
"Is that a good book?" he quipped as I realized he was referring to the Bible tucked in my arms. I looked down to realize that all he could see was the back of a John Maxwell study Bible - only the words "Leadership, God's way...". He said "I love leadership".
I mumbled something about it being more than a good book, but THE Good Book. He said with great grace "I am a believer". He asked where I fellowshipped and he mentioned his church.
He then went on to explain that Jon was in "no man's land" - too old for one type of help and too young for another. Jon reminded him of his age and he realized his records were wrong. He quickly said "wait just a few minutes and let me check some things out".
He came back in and said "We will get this thing worked out". Suddenly he said "You're the pastor of the church". I said yes (wondering if I simply looked like a pastor looks or something). He thoroughly explained all he would do for Jon and said "You are helping others all the time, it's the least we can do. As an MD I have some connections and we'll get this done; it won't cost you anything!
Suddenly I felt the tears streaming down my face and I said to him (I didn't and don't know his name) Can I say this is how our GREAT God works?
Several nurses were all gathered around him and each stopped and with a certain understanding just nodded. Jon, sitting with a brand new splint on his arm, said "My faith is restored today".
What happened next I am not proud of. I reach in my pocket and pull out a business card and hand it to the Dr. and blurt out
OSir, if there anyone you know that could use some help or someone to have coffee with or anything, I'd be happy to minister to them. (It was kinda like offering God $.10 to cover his gift of salvation). He with a great deal of grace glanced at the card and said "...Sam..." You help people all day long. Just "pay it forward".
Jon and I looked at each other and our eyes locked. We'd seen our Great God at work.
By the time we got the parking lot (glad to see my car still there) I blurted out "There are still good people in this world after all".
God had sent me to a street Clinic to make sure I don't wander far from that rung of society... I needed to see the brokenness to deal with pride. He put on a viritual "clinic" on leadership before my eyes by a physican who knew why he was here on earth. And to witness teamwork in a staff that served not only me, but everyone that day as if we were princes.
I said to Jon "God has done this for me 10,000 times and yet I wake up and wonder if he can really care for me this day.
I repented and acknowleged HIM!
