Past Articles from 2004 until last year. Many important lessons can be found in each of these articles.
The best weapons are the simplest ones. This is a lesson I have learned from 40 years of watching the good guys catch the bad guys on television – from Dragnet, to Hawaii Five-0, to Barnaby Jones, to Hill Street Blues, to Law&Order, to CSI New York, I have learned that a fancy, exotic weapon is easy to trace, and will often fail. Stick to a dependable Smith&Wesson .38 (or better yet, a piece of rebar), pick up your spent shells, and wear gloves – especially when you load (so many of the bad guys leave a thumbprint on the shells when they load).
Satan keeps things simple – which is not the same thing as saying that he is simple. He is described in the Bible as a lion – a sophisticated predator at the top of the food chain – and we are the prey (I Peter 5.8). A lion knows the best weapons and tactics are the simplest ones. A lion stalks, conserves energy, attacks at the most opportune moment, attacks the most opportune target, kills quickly – a precise bite to the neck –opening the jugular, breaking the vertebrae, severing the spinal cord.
Satan doesn’t need massive, complicated conspiracies to entice us to sin. He exploits our weaknesses like a maestro. And he seems to do it with such ease. Fore-warned, as they say, is fore-armed. I think it is important to remember that we are being stalked, and to recognize the simple tools Satan uses to create such havoc in our lives, and in our congregations. I want to pull three weapons out of his gun-locker, and take a look at them so we will recognize them when he tries to use them against us.
The first is to convince us that he is not the enemy – that the enemy is a brother or sister. Even when a brother or sister is advocating clear falsehood, or encouraging clearly sinful behavior – the enemy is Satan, not that brother or sister. Our fight is not just to thwart their influence, it is to reclaim their soul. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, the powers, the authorities that govern this present world of darkness….Ephesians 6.12.
The second is to convince us that if we are right, collateral damage doesn’t matter. The stand I take may be scriptural, but if I lay waste a congregation to make that stand I am doing the Devil’s work. We don’t see that. We believe being right is enough - that being right justifies extreme behavior. Paul says he knows that he is free to eat meat but that if a brother is hurt over food “you are no longer walking according to love” (Romans 14.15). Peter says that our answers must be right, and ready, and that they also must be “gentle,” and “reverent”, (I Peter 3.15).
The third is to convince us that when we have lost a battle we have lost the war. We sin. This is a fact of our existence – even our Christian existence (I John 1.5-2.3). But Grace is immediate and absolute. If we confess our sins He is faithful and righteous to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (I John 1.9). Peter and Judas both betrayed Jesus. When Judas couldn’t undo the deed he had done he killed himself. Satan convinced him he was beyond forgiveness. Peter responded to his betrayal by weeping bitterly, and staying close to Jesus. Peter was forgiven. The apostle Paul never forgot his sinful past, and declared that the blessing of it all is that “….in me as the worst (sinner), Jesus Christ might demonstrate His perfect patience, an example for those who would believe in Him for eternal life,” (I Timothy 1.16). Satan convinces us that we can’t be forgiven, and that we won’t improve. We think we’re being realistic when we indulge this discouragement. We’re actually being faithless.
This is not a complete inventory of the simple, effective weapons we would find in the Devil’s gun-locker. But it is a start. Most of all I hope we take him seriously, and personally. That is certainly the way he will take us. I want us also to remember that God says, clearly Resist the Devil and he will flee from you (James 4.7). He is a cunning lion, but he is also a cowardly one.
The recent raid by Navy Seals on Osama Bin Laden’s compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan was a success by any standard, and we should be proud of the servicemen who carried it out. God has given the State the sword to wield in our protection (Romans 13.4), and the sword was wielded accurately, efficiently, and respectfully. Bin Laden was properly shrouded and buried, according to the requirements of his religion, within 24 hours. He was given a burial at sea. This part of the mission – the burying part – was perhaps the most impressive. It showed respect for the sensibilities of a billion Muslims, and yet denied the extremists a shrine to rally around, a body to exploit.Some have voiced the opinion that we should have exploited the body ourselves. There are some who take a macabre satisfaction from desecrating a body. It is not enough that Bin Laden’s mortal coil may have already been served up as shark food. One is reminded of John Wayne in The Searchers who shoots the eyes out of a dead Apache warrior. Ward Bond rebukes him, saying that it doesn’t matter. “It matters to him” is John Wayne’s reply.
It does matter to us. Back in 1993 when the Somalis were dragging the body of an American Serviceman through Bahara market in Mogadishu our collective horror was more intense than if that soldier were alive and being held hostage. Here on the home front, as we go to funerals for our family and friends, we know that nothing offends our sensibilities more than the thought that the soul-less body we are remembering is somehow being disrespected. A matter as simple as too much make-up, a badly done hair-do, or a poorly chosen photograph will be enough to add chaos to anguish and damage feelings for a generation. Complicating all this is the fact that the definition of “decent” is somewhat subjective. I know that it is respectful to have President Woodrow Wilson’s sarcophagus on public display at the National Cathedral, and that it is not respectful to prop up Nikolai Lenin’s embalmed corpse behind a plate of bullet-proof glass and place it on public display in Moscow. But a Muscovite might not see the distinction.
A decent burial matters to us – always has. It mattered to the Israelites that the Philistines possessed the decapitated head of Saul (I Samuel 31.8-13). It mattered to Priam that Achilles possessed the corpse of his son Hector. It matters to us that no soldier, sailor, airman, or marine is left behind on the battlefield. We know why men risk their lives for a slain comrade. We know why the Tomb of the Unknowns is sacred ground.
Jesus had a decent burial. He had as loving and opulent a burial as could be achieved late on a Friday afternoon of Passover. His body was washed, rubbed in a preliminary mixture of myrrh and spices, and wrapped in a white shroud by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. Then he was placed in Joseph’s garden tomb. The Pharisees were afraid that Jesus’ followers, extremists in their eyes, might try to do something with the body, and so demanded and received a guard from Pontius Pilate. They were wrong. We didn’t do anything with the body, and no one today is sure which tomb in Jerusalem was used briefly by the Son of God.
The tomb was empty on Sunday morning – it was no longer needed, for there was no longer any corpse. Jesus is risen – physically risen – able to display his wounds and to eat fish for breakfast (John 20.26-29; 21.12-15).
Perhaps our concern for corpses is a manifestation of our powerlessness in the face of death. Let us never forget that death is defeated (I Corinthians 15.51-58), and that the victor over death shares that victory with us (Romans 6.4-11). Jesus asks us all, through our sister Martha, this defining question:
I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this? John 11.25-26
Her answer is, “Yes, Lord, I have (completely) believed….” (v.27). Is it our answer?
For many of us with connections to English ancestry - and I imagine pretty much for everybody else, save the poor southern survivors - it was such a stark contrast to turn on the TV early Friday morning and see the grand majesty of the royal wedding, and the royal kingdom, and the great wealth, and the gilded everything. It was captivating to see such joy; to hear the multitudes cheer for the bride on her way to the union; to hear the bells ring loud proclaiming the moment at hand; to hear the angelic chorus. Yet it was surreal knowing full well that people back home were just trying to pick up the pieces, literally, if they could even find them. How could it be so joyous, so wonderful, in one place - completely oblivious to the death and destruction elsewhere?
I lay no particular claim to the storm as those who lost their homes, their friends, their lives, but it did lay claim to places found in memory. I used to play ball in Smithville's tiny but proud State Champion's stadium, now gone. They, a town of maybe 900, regularly whooped our town 3 times larger. It really hit home thinking I'd been right there in those fields, at the epicenter, where 14 folks died and where 14 are still missing.
It really hit home seeing the pure and total destruction. The first F-5 to hit Mississippi since before my birth years ago which was just 8 miles down the road. Objects and people in its direct path were simply no more. And folks on the fringe fared little better. Just like that, a wasteland. Where the last investment in a new building was probably before the last F-5 and where rebuilding may not be in the future - easier to start over in bigger Amory a few miles away. The potential death of a community, notwithstanding its proud past and people.
And still, thousands of miles away, a great gulf betwixt us, the bells kept ringing, the multitudes kept rejoicing, the smiles never parted, and joy radiated from every corner of the kingdom.
I don't think I've seen a starker contrast of heaven and hell here on earth. And I imagine, as much as is humanly possible, that the real contrast between heaven and hell not here on earth is so much starker. In Luke 16 the rich man looked up in torment from Hades and saw the rest that poor Lazarus had in Abraham's bosom and he begged for Lazarus to be allowed to put just a drop - not a cup, or a sip, but a simple drop - of water on his tongue. Not to be, because there is just a great gulf fixed betwixt us, and no one can cross over. Too late once the F-5 rolls through.
News stories "trend" nowadays, and the more "popular" they are, the more coverage and webspace are devoted to them. And despite the historic destruction, the consistently larger audience trended towards the royal wedding to the point a few days later tornado coverage was struggling to be a 1/3 of the wedding's.
I'd like to think that would be similar to our view. That our focus would continually be on Heaven because it's the prize Hebrews 12 says not to take our eyes off of. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that we're simply like the rich man's brothers - we want to forget the other place exists. Just send someone to warn them, he begged Abraham. "They have Moses and the prophets, let them hear them". The tornado siren goes off. Do we run to Cover or just say not our town, not me, not today?
In reading the latest from Smithville, turns out I may get to keep my copy of "Twister" after all. Jim Weigel, 39, recounted to the Wall Street Journal his more than close brush with death. He grabbed a well pipe, anchored deep, and held on. His body flew up in the air, legs a flapping in the wind, while his house a few feet away literally got sucked out of existence, leaving only a concrete slab. The well of life for Jim, you might say. "I saw it hit the Pig [Piggly Wiggly grocery store for the uninitiated] and I had to come here and hang on…for dear life". Sounds a lot like The Well of Life, kindly telling the Samaritan woman mired in sin that the well He gives springs up to eternal life.
Won't we grab a hold?
If you asked me where I'd rather have been last week, at the palace or back in Smithville, I'd pick the palace 7 days a week and twice on Sunday. Where the multitudes cheer, where the bride is united with The King, where the angelic chorus sings. No tears, no tears up there.
Luke 16:24 And he cried out and said, "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus so that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool off my tongue, for I am in agony in this flame."
"Do I have any pleasure in the death of the wicked," declares the Lord God, "rather than he should turn from his ways and live?"Ezekiel 18:23
"How can I give you up, O Ephraim?
How can I surrender you, O Israel?
How can I make you like Admah?
How can I treat you like Zeboiim?
My heart is turned over within Me,
All my compassions are kindled."
Hosea 11:8
What is "just" and what is "loving", what is "right" and what is "tender" are often assumed to be in opposition. If God is perfectly loving how can he hurt his creation? If God is perfectly just how can He allow unrepentant sin to go unpunished? These questions, it is posited, will be harmoniously answered hereafter.
I have complete faith in the answers of hereafter. But I wonder if the supposed tension we see between God's love and his justice doesn't stem largely from our imperfect notion about love and justice.
In John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, Candy, an old swamper, has an equally old dog which is in terrible misery from the ravages of age – but Candy loves the dog so much he can't bear to part with him. A mule-skinner named Carlson, with Candy's grudging permission, takes the dog out and mercifully puts a painless end to its misery with a bullet to the base of the skull. Later, Candy admits he should have put his own dog down – that somehow his love for the dog had failed, wasn't strong enough to do what was needed.
We distinguish between what is "right" and what is "tender" because we often don't like what that "right" is. The psychological community has done us a great service by diagnosing the "enabler" – the one who seems to be concerned and loving, but who just feeds someone else's disorder. Love is always tough, and often demands that the one who loves be tough.
Conversely, tears of pity shed for those justice brings to bear are not tears of weakness, nor are they a betrayal of that justice. We also feel that the judge who weeps, who regrets is not fit to judge. Justice is supposed to be blind, antiseptic, mechanical. If judgment isn't blind and stoic, we doubt it is fair.
In the Inferno Dante, and his tour guide of Hell, Virgil, come to the Circle of Hell prepared for false prophets and astrologers. Because they falsely foretold the future in life, they are condemned in death to only look backward. Their heads have been twisted 180 degrees so that their eyes look directly behind their shoulders. They run the circle incessantly – moving forward, looking only back. For some reason this really affects Dante and he weeps bitterly for them. Virgil rebukes his tears and asks "Who is more impious than he who weeps at God's judgment?" (Canto 20)
If weeping at God's perfect judgment is impious, then God himself stands condemned, because He weeps in the quotes cited from the prophets above.
One day when the Lord says to some of us – "Depart from me, I never knew you," He will say it with tears, not with glee.
May we understand that despite what the chick-flicks and the action movies tell us – toughness and tears, justice and love, are not easily distinguishable from each other.
The title above serves also as the title of a collection of cartoons by the late Charles M. Schulz. Best known for his beloved "Peanuts" strip, Mr. Schulz also published a series of cartoons in "Youth" and "Reach" magazines for teen Christians. These frames featured a young man in his teens with problems you might imagine Linus having at that age. This unnamed youth hopes to be a minister some day and takes his religion seriously.As did Charles Schulz. Anyone who has seen "A Charlie Brown Christmas" can gather that, privately, Mr. Schulz was an unapologetic Biblicist. In the introduction to I Take My Religion Seriously, (Warner Press, 1989), Dan Harman calls "Sparky" "a kind person who cares and acts and lives a marvelous life".
It is a wonderful book, full of the same precise, unflinching, yet compassionate honesty about the life of faith we've all come to appreciate when he writes about life in general. Although I can't reprint the wonderful drawings, below are some of the punch lines I hope you'll enjoy, and ponder.
I take my religion seriously – I get into arguments almost every day.
I see this is "spiritual life emphasis week" at church. I wonder what we emphasize the rest of the time?
I used to consider myself an authority on the book of Revelation – until I met somebody who'd actually read it.
Here's the church, and here's the steeple, now open the door and...see how few turned out for Wednesday evening services.
Oh Yeah! Well my Bible has more underlined passages than your Bible.
In the early days persecuted Christians used to hide in their catechisms – no, that doesn't sound right.
I'm sorry I wasn't able to study for this morning's Sunday School lesson – the zipper on my Bible was stuck.
For four long weeks we've been planning the youth group picnic, and now we have to call it on account of rain. What I want to know is WHICH ONE OF YOU SINNED!
I've decided after college, Dad, instead of seminary, I want to try and become a prophet of doom.
I find the Bible fairly easy to understand. What confuses me is theology.
Charles M. Schulz (1922-2000)
