Spilled Wine

When I was a child, I was fascinated by toys with lights.  If you pushed a button, the lasers on the front of the spaceship lighted up.  It was almost like I had a real spaceship.  I was filled with wonder.

At some point, someone told me the lasers were just lights on the front of the plastic, spaceship looking thingy.  The wonder was gone.  Nothing had changed, but everything had changed.  Nothing was really different, I just forgot the cool spaceship and the spaceship just became plastic and wires.

I stopped playing with spaceships.

I remember when I became a Christian I was in awe that God could love me so much that He would send Jesus to die for my sins.  I remember the wonder of it all.  The God of the universe loves me.  He actually loves me that much.  It was the wonder of grace.  It set my soul on fire

At some point, someone told me they understood grace.  People had studied theology and knew exactly how Jesus’ death could bring about the forgiveness of my sins.  Some said it was by paying a debt, others argued it was by conquering an enemy, some insisted it was the purchase of a slave.  Each built an elaborate, nuts-and-bolts explanation as to how grace functioned.  They made lists of things that had to happen to get grace to work.  It all came in a nice, neat formula.

Nothing was really any different than before.  It is just that the cool spaceship became plastic and wires.

At some point.  After I had grown up a little, I looked at the plastic and wires again.  They were not just isolated components, but they came together to be something wonderful.  I looked at plastic and wires and saw a spaceship again.

I began to, again, see the wonder of grace.

Do you remember zoos with bars?

When I was a kid, going to the zoo meant looking at lions in a cage with concrete house and a big cat toy hanging from the top bars.  A zookeeper would come by periodically to use a hose to clean the concrete cage.

Lions are not meant to live that way.  We know it.  We don’t like to look at lions in cages.  They don’t look much like kings of the jungle.  They look sad.

On my recent trip to Africa, we turned the tables a bit.  I got in a cage of sorts and went to look at the lions who were not in cages.  They were very different.

These lions ruled the land.  They went where they wanted.  They would climb up on a big ant hill and enjoy their world.  At one point we saw a lioness jump to attention and then take off across the savannah–she was in hot pursuit of a warthog.  Her mate circled around to help her hunt.  Then, after what we think was an unsuccessful hunt, they climbed back up on an ant hill and took a nap.

Thes lions were different.  They were free.  They were alive.

The lions in the zoo were healthy.  They had heart beats and breath, but they were not alive.  Not really.  They were shells of who they were created to be.

The lions on the ant hill were alive–really alive.  They were living as they were created to live.  The difference was unmistakable.

That is what eternal life is.

Sometimes we think of eternal life as a ticket to heaven.  We think it is a ticket out of this place and to a place where our humanity is merely a faded, disturbing dream.  That is not biblical eternal life.

The Jewish idea of eternal life was living life in sync with the God who made us.  It is living the life the way we were intended to live it.  Eternal life is life in connection with God.

It is life out of a cage.

Eternal life is becoming fully human again.  Eternal life is living like we were created.  We feel the heart beat in our chest and the blood pump.  We know what we were made for and we are doing it.

Does it mean heaven?  Yes.  It means that we will live like we were intended to live–in relationship with our creator.  Today, tomorrow and forever.

Eternal life is not, primarily about heaven.  It is about living.

It is sitting on ant hills and chasing warthogs.  It is living.

For all of our talk about sin and savior, it seems like Christians are among the worst to recognize our own sin. We have ways to deal with our sin, most of which leave us looking squeaky clean.

Sometimes we hide our sin. We are like children who cower behind the fence to get a few puffs off a re-lit cigarette butt. We are careful about those with whom we gossip. We talk about giving while we hoard. We pray for the poor, but close our eyes to them when no one is around. We don’t have to admit anything. No one knows.

Sometimes we make excuses for our sin. We speak harshly to our children and then talk about our bad day. We default on our mortgage and cite economic factors. We lie, but imagine it is for some greater good. We always have a reason and it is always for the good of humanity.

Sometimes we redefine it as righteousness. We don’t gossip, we share needs. We love everyone, just some people don’t deserve our kindness. We are not lazy, we are meditating.

We talk about sin, but we don’t talk about ours. We talk about a savior, but the only sins we can think of are other people’s or those from decades gone by. By the way we talk, sometimes I wonder if the whole cross thing was really necessary, we might have been fine with a good public relations guy.

I know that is crazy talk, but when was the last time you had a frank talk with another human being and talked about your sin? Not mistakes, not bad choices, not missed opportunities, but sin? Scary, isn’t it.

I have a feeling, though, most people are struggling with the same things we are and if we would just come clean, we would find we are not alone. We would find there are other people who live in the same place we do and are just as frustrated as we are. We all need forgiveness.

It is only when we confess our sin that we find forgiveness.

Funny thing about Jesus, He died for our sin. The more we insist we have nothing to hide–the more we shout about our righteousness, the less we think we need a Savior and the more we need one.

I don’t really need a PR guy. I need a Savior.

Tonight we had a small group meeting discussing rules (they follow my sermon series)

Out of the discussion came a very interesting thought.  Rules have their place in life as well as in our following of Jesus like rules for children.

When we were children, we needed mom and dad to tell us to go to bed and when to shower because if they didn’t, we would stay up too late and stink.  Now we are grown up and don’t have a bed time and take showers when we please.

We go to bed at a reasonable hour and we don’t stink.

That doesn’t mean there are not people who would benefit from a few rules, it just means that maturity means we do what needs to be done simply because it needs to be done.

When I first became a Christian, I needed rules to tell me how to live.  Now, a little more mature, I don’t need someone to tell me how to live.  I live a life that pleases God because I know Him.  (Sometimes I still stay up too late and sometimes I stink, but I don’t need rules to tell me that.)

Life is better as an adult.  🙂

If you want an interesting challenge to your theology and to your understanding of Scripture, try shifting the center.  In modern Christianity, we tend to read Scripture with us at the center.

We think of Jesus coming to save me.  We want to know what I must do to be saved.  What will it be like for me in Heaven?  Will I be rewarded for the good I do?  Will I suffer for the evil?

We are at the center.

What happens, though if you read the Bible and consciously put God at the center?  What happens if we are not the main players on the stage with God assisting us, but God is the main player and we all have very small parts?

What happens if we start to see that Jesus came to set all creation right and not simply to deal with my sin?

What happens is Scripture makes a lot more sense.  Give it a try.

My new word for “tradition” is “rules.”

Tradition in modern churches is when we hang the greens.  Tradition is how do we honor graduates.  Tradition is the song we sing on a particular Sunday or event.  That is not the same thing as “tradition” in Mark 7.

Traditions for the Pharisees were rules for godly behavior.  Wash your hands.  Walk only this far on the Sabbath.  Pray at these times.  Fast on these days.  We have those things and we call them rules.

Rules like:  You must listen to Christian music.  You can’t drink alcohol of any kind.  You can’t go to “R” rated movies.  You must pray in restaurants.  You must witness to the guy trying to sleep next to you on the airplane.  Rules.  Sometimes stated, sometimes not, always enforced.

We can pair our rules with Bible verses that sound as if they fit and SHAZAAM! we have a rule that has the force of Scripture.  And we can use that rule to control the people around us.

Jesus came to break the chains of those rules.

Jesus came, not to bring ever-expanding rules, but He came to bring freedom from them.  He came to give real grace that actually makes us clean.  Rules can’t do that.  Jesus came to tell us that God loves us apart from all the rules.

And that is real grace.

Real grace always makes us squirm a little.  We who are inclined to rules might even quip, “Are you saying that we should just keep sinning because we are covered by grace?”  To which, Paul has a really good answer in Romans 6, but his answer has nothing to do with rules.  Check it out.

I have been looking with interest at people who blog.  It is time to try my hand at it.

This is going to be a place where I think out loud about all things theological.

Stick around, comment, take part in the conversation.  🙂