naturally they must see for themselves. for they had yet to truly believe. for if they believed what they knew to be true, would they truly have spent the last 72+ hours in hiding?
the angel they met at the grave, the one who told them Jesus was risen, may have unlocked that final door of doubt: it is true! he did what he said he would do! but it was not until they saw him for themselves that they could allow the door to be finally unhinged, once and for all.
and so it was. they saw him. they spoke with him. eventually, when he had completed his journey from hell to heaven and back, they ate with him. thomas doubted, and then believed when Jesus outstretched his arms and offered thomas a view of his ribs where the spear had been thrust into him to bleed him out on the cross.
but now, there was no denying: this truly was the Son of God. he had walked with them, taught them, been their master, and now their friend. he was the Messiah.
some weeks later, at pentecost, they proved Jesus' faith in them was not unfounded. they had seen, had believed, and now were the new catalysts to change the world. forty-three days prior, the hope of the whole world rested on the shoulders of a homeless man. some 2000+ years later, the hope we have in him rests on our shoulders: to share with others, to let the power of the Holy Spirit consume and change our lives and give us daily new meaning.
each of the twelve disciples, mary, martha and the others, having met Jesus, were never the same. nearly 25 years after meeting him for the first time, I too am not the same.
I live in the daily hope of meeting Jesus, face to face. one day, we all will.
If Jesus were God and nothing else, his immortality means nothing to us; if he were a man and no more, His death is no more important than yours or mine. But if he were really both God and man, then when the man Jesus died, God died too, and when the God Jesus rose from the dead, then man rose too, because they were one and the same person. ... Dorothy Leigh Sayers (1893-1957)
that final night with him, he told them that to know Jesus is to know the Father. he washed their feet, and in doing so, laid one final paradigm to rest: to be great in his Father's kingdom, one must adopt the ways of a servant. as if that was not enough, he brought the old covenant to its completion. in distributing the elements of what we now know as communion, he demonstrated what would be his final act of grace the next morning. in this act, he fulfilled the old covenant of blood sacrifice for atonement, and with his blood authored a new way of redemption: to make his sacrifice our own.
and so now they are huddled together, maybe praying, likely disillusioned: they watched him hang and die, forgiving his captors as he suffered and died, focused to the last. he welcomed another disciple into paradise even as he bled and suffocated.
and then it was over. he died. just like that.
what now?
what were they to do, now that he was gone? it all went so fast; was it for real? what would become of them?
even in this moment, could they be sure of anything? the thoughts that must have gone through their heads ... the wild speculation of what would now happen to them. for if this new covenant were to have any beneficiaries, it began with the disciples. for good or for ill, they were the ones fingered.
no wonder they huddled in a room together, fearing any knock at the door. no wonder that third morning after Jesus' death, they started when mary came to them.
for they were witnesses to a revolution. they were revolutionaries, and even then, it is likely they did not yet know the full weight of their roles.
when I spoke last night on john 15, I suggested that the disciples, were they truly savvy to what Jesus was telling them, would know that the fruit Jesus would produce the next day was his own death. and if they were really astute, they would know that the fruit they in turn must produce would be death also.
did they know that night? when did it sink in that to be a true Christ follower meant to give up one's own life? perhaps as they saw him arrested that night in the garden of gethsemane. most assuredly it had to register with them as they saw his beaten, tortured, naked and bleeding body hanging so perversely on a large slab of wood, humiliated and dying. surely it kicked in when they heard him say, father forgive them. even one of the guards recognized as much when Jesus finally breathed his last.
how many of the disciples knew that to be counted worthy of the name "Christ follower", his secret ambition must become their own?
Young men, up on the hillside Teaching their ways Each word, winning them over Each heart a kindled flame
Old men, watch from the outside Guarding their prey Threated by the voice of a paragon Leading their lambs away Leading them far away
Chorus: Nobody knew his secret ambition Nobody knew his claim to fame He broke the old rules steeped in tradition He tore the holy veil away Questioning those in powerful positions Running to those who called his name But nobody knew his secret ambition Was to give his life away
His rage, shaking the temple His word to the wise His hand, healing on the seventh day His love wearing no disguise
Some say, death to the radical He's way out of line Some say, praised be the miracle God sends a blessed sign A blessed sign for troubled times
No no, No no I tell you nobody knew Until he gave his life away
what is stopping us from recognizing our role as Christ followers? at what point will we renounce our citizenship on earth as humans, and claim our rightful place as spiritual beings, seated in the heavenlies with Christ? when will we claim our inheritance in God by daily dying to our own ambitions, and follow the higher calling God ultimately intended for us?
on bearing fruit my church is hosting a "meal in the upper room" tonight. the anal retentive perfectionist in me says we should be holding it in our upper room, but too many people will be attending. already I digress.
each of the elders will share a passage of scripture; mine is well-known in such circles. within this passage Jesus tells us, apart from him we can do [ produce ] nothing [ of value ].
this is a foreign concept to many Christ followers, most notably myself. I am inclined on a daily basis to rely on my own strength, until I come upon an obstacle that I know I alone cannot overcome. it is then -- and usually only then -- that I find myself asking God for His grace and strength to overcome on my behalf what I concede I cannot do alone.
and once the obstacle is overcome, I promptly wrest control back from Him, with nary a word of praise as I check my watch and see how far off schedule I am.
on the night he was betrayed, Jesus showed his complete and total reliance on his Father: for if he is the vine and we are the branches, then the father must be the root of it all. after the meal in the upper room, Jesus went to pray, demonstrating the perfect model of dependence upon God's strength over our own.
if at no other time of the year, easter should demonstrate beyond a shadow of a doubt the power inherent in wholly relying on God. until we know what it means to sweat blood, to renounce all that would prevent us from seeing God as sovereign in our lives, we will not know as our own the power Jesus wielded in overcoming death.
Apil 13 2003 wehn I went to scoohl wuns I saw a 1 trky and for dear. and tow jak raddit.
and wuns at my gramus haus she saw a fox.
Aqril 14 2003 Jesus is alive he did for us he did for awre sins and he's risin.
Jesus loves you.
background: my nigh-unto-seven-year-old (email me for pics; if I know you I'll let you in on how cute the mackerlings are) has had a couple of paradigm shifts this month: he can read. and he can write. this is fairly groundbreaking, in first grade, to realize you can follow a story in a chapter book and comprehend it. all without relying on the photos to clue you in.
further, he can tell his own stories. I was a little put off the first few times I saw the phonetic spelling, but in fact that is precisely what he has been taught: when in doubt, spel it lik it sowndz.
full props to david hopkins, who celebrated his one-year blog birthday the same day as my anniversary. bravo!
fuller props to andrew careaga for linking to david, who linked me to andrew. true, I had read andrew's blog before; the blogger's prayer just iced it for me.
these three guys are worth your time. what are you still doing here?
blogolistically speaking, it has been a wild ride. I made a number of new friends, I learned quite a bit about myself, and I think I have finally begun to find my voice. this has been a very good outlet for me to express myself, to hone my writing skills (they continue to develop), and, hopefully, to bring a unique perspective to bear on the collective blogosphere.
jumping into the fray is probably the best thing a tentative surfer can do to express him/herself. and I was inspired by some of the best (zeldman, halcyon, kottke, lance, siegel, ernie, and jann).
I have not regretted it, in spite of the porn hounds, the pedophiles, the liberals, the godless heathens, and fellow Jesus freaks. you might say I crave the attention (and don't all of us, to some degree, who blog?), and all have been very very good about giving it. I am humbled, shocked and awed by the number of people who have made a point to click on whatever link it was that brought them here.
I have been mildly chastised, made an example of, almost profiled by local media. I have received emails from people I didn't know, telling me how my words had registered with them in some way. I have made real friends out of virtual connections, some of whom I consider close friends in spite of never having seen their face or heard their voice, much less met them in person.
the tremendous value of internet technology has proven itself to me more times than I can count. and every one of the blessings I count online is a person on the other end of a phone line, willing to take the time to consider my words and share a few of their own with me in return.
as this site is ever a work in progress, so too is my expectation of what you should hope to get out of the trip. if I added any value to you, made you think just a little bit differently, or perhaps even offended you by my strong stance on a topic, I trust it was worth the effort for us both to pause and take stock of our paradigms. for if we cease to change them, or cease to be challenged to reconsider and, when necessary, recalibrate them, we begin to stagnate. to stale. to crumble, just a little bit at a time, not only around the edges but also from the inside out. and as it has been said, a life unexamined is a life not worth living.
I am blessed by your visit, intrepid surfer. my hope and prayer is that you derive some blessing in return.
alaska days part deux the title from yesterday was related to some friends of mine who left one band they started to form another. the purpose of the second band was to grieve the untimely loss of their father. gene was the embodiment of grace; the very little time I ever did spend with him, he was the most genteel, kind, deferential person one might be privileged to meet. or to know.
like gene, his wife was a complement of grace. as pastors of a small church on the outskirts of washington, d.c., they were a little ahead of their time. we were all in the same church in alaska once upon a time, and God as my witness, I do not believe the church leaders quite knew what commodity they had on their hands with eva. she was just that out of their grasp, conceptually. and perhaps from a legalistic angle, as well.
which is why they were probably best suited to start their own church and attract people of like mind, who could relate to their edge of the envelope.
bear and harv are their two boys, and two guys I got to know fairly well during our collective "alaska days". I've even got the yearbook signatures to prove it. we had some good times, if brief. I remember envying them their fairly carefree existence in their throes days, living at home, and touring the mid-atlantic states playing some good rem-ish alterna-pop.
anyway, something about reminiscing about them, in time with the war reports, made me melancholy. were I to have an album of theirs, I believe some poole would suit me well right about now.
in other news I'm thinking of a significant addition to the site, or, failing that, a major redesign. but I need a logo I can call my own. doors are nice.
should we be happy for the liberation of iraq? I am sure I am. but I cannot bring myself to celebrate.
there is no joy in war, only in its end. clocking in at just over three weeks, this war has been mercifully short. amazing that in the second week we were all questioning the "success" of the war plans. amazing that there was seemingly little resistance. amazing that saddam hussein's murderous rule was over and done with so fast. and he barely put up a fight.
sure, I know the fighting was fierce the first two weeks, but it was as though there was no doubt at any time of the inevitablity of the outcome. not that I mind that.
I just have to wonder ... how do I explain all of this to my children? how do I explain the walking mass of contradictions that is their father? I am proud to be an american, proud of our president. deeply satisfied to see the iraqi people celebrating the demise of their barbaric thug of a dictator. and abhorred by the thought of sending in troops to do what absolutely needed to be done.
it is a difficult concept for me to grasp that sometimes, it would seem killing some is a prerequisite to freeing many. God demonstrated the model many a time in the old testament; and I never understood it then, either.
why, God? why must some die to save others? why did you tell joshua and david to wipe out entire tribes of people?
looking back on history, I know why, if you will, God did some of the things he did. to preserve the pure lineage of Jesus down from adam, God did what needed to be done to prevent genetic contamination. that included wiping out the entire world population of the day. it included wiping out jericho. it included wholesale slaughter of the amalakites. the entire history of the jewish nation is littered with battles and military conquest. in the name of I AM, no less.
in the absence of a direct response to my questions of fairness and equity, I must rest in the knowledge that God is good. right afer I grasp the concept that he has also been known to kill people to prove his goodness.
Thank you for your messages. I appreciate your prayers and words of support.
Prayer continues to comfort Americans as we welcome new opportunities and face new challenges. Many people are finding a place for prayer in their lives. Faith provides us with hope, guidance, and compassion.
Mrs. Bush and I take comfort in knowing that God is never more than a prayer away. God bless you, and may God continue to bless America.
Sincerely,
George W. Bush
background: every day in school, my son's class prays for the president to make wise decisions. I didn't know they actually wrote to tell him this.
I recognize that the letter was generated with an ms-word mail merge program, but it's nice to see his staff actually takes the time to compile the notes from all the people who write to actually respond to them.
also refreshing to hear the leader of the free world say he is encouraged by people's prayers. wish I had said more of them for him and his predecessor.
war is not wrong it is but a tool. perhaps an inexact tool, but strictly an implement. so says seajay in her essay by the same name. the essence of the piece is a wakeup call to all who would sit in judgement of war as a means to an end, just or otherwise: quit protesting, quit "supporting the troops", and get doing something productive. like thinking up a better response to diplomatic impasse than rolling out the tanks and smart bombs. like finding a more ... enlightened ... method of conflict resolution.
I am inclined to agree. and yet my take is that there are already such answers out there; we are just not looking -- or willing to look -- hard enough for them, or pressing ourselves and each other hard enough to come out of our comfortable niche, to break with the past, and will ourselves to personal and collective breakthrough.
especially to those of my Jesus freak ilk who would cite all manner of reason as to why war is or is not just. or moral. or Christian. you may well and truly be right. and now that we (u.s.a.) are at war, what do we do next time? what might be all the creative ways to resolve conflict at the nation-state level, without resorting to military intervention?
dr. martin luther king, jr. said, "wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows." I believe there are finer tools available to us. and as Christ followers, the Word of God as a scalpel was not meant to be thrown as a dart at other Jesus freaks when we find their doctrine falling short of our own.
for the pundits and armchair philosophers among us: is not the notion of war a disputable matter? did not Jesus say in the end times we would hear of wars and rumor of wars? asking the hard questions is truly worth the time. however, what is our motivation for attempting to persuade our brothers and sisters that our way is a better way? are we trusting God for intervention in this current world crisis, and thereby setting the standard of faith and peace, or are we merely adding our voice to the endless chorus of the self-righteous?
what I find myself asking of my ilk, when entire days of content are devoted to the (un)justness of war, is, how much do we trust God? is Jesus merely our Savior, or is He also Lord of our lives as well? when do we stop walking in our own strength, refusing to let crises uproot our confidence and trust in God so completely that we lose our focus, and, ultimately, compromise our faith in Him?
back to seajay. as I read her admonishment to put down our "give peace a chance" and "kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out" signs and pick up our keyboards and history books (and, dare I say, our Bibles) to concoct a better solution, I am struck by her vernacular application of james, who said, said, faith without works is dead.
those who oppose the war would do well to reexamine their motivation for speaking out in place of praying. those who support the war would do very well to relish in its end, and not its duration, and once achieved, reexamine their motivation for seeking war as the ultimate solution in the first place. most important, we would all do well to set down God's word as a sledge hammer to apply to others' heads, and begin to ask God for His wisdom in responding to the circumstances of life. were we all truly resting in God's strength, His justice and mercy, I strongly suspect we would see much less fearmongering from our ilk on either side of the argument.
what a marvelous opportunity Jesus freaks of all stripe have in this time of crisis to demonstrate, but in a far more effective and life-changing way: to show not only is there a better way, but we as Christ followers will demonstrate it by uniting to fast and pray and focus on God's righteousness and divine providence. we will stand as one to plead on behalf of our fellow nations to avoid war; to show to everyone with ears to hear and eyes to see, war can and should be prevented at all costs. and in the midst of armed conflict, we will all fast and pray for God to reveal Himself to the people of iraq, our soldiers, and the goverments of the world. we stand in faith that God can prove Himself so undeniably mighty the world community would recognize the futility of war and the ultimate profit of loving our neighbors as ourselves.
the Almighty has given us far greater, far more subversive weapons to wield than war: unconditional love, peace, grace, compassion, mercy. it is high time we unveiled these, and not the fallible sledgehammers of man, to a lost and dying world.
meanwhile, I think I most identify with brad sargent. he draws some marvelous parallels between frodo's journey and that of Christ followers, specifically with respect to frodo's journey to mount doom, carrying the the fate of middle-earth around his neck. although we were not meant to assume such a weight for ourselves to carry, each of us as a follower of Jesus is bound to bear a measure of responsibility for how we live and model the Christian faith for others to view, and, ultimately, to come to recognize as a responsibility they too wish to carry, if only for the glory of eternal life set before them.
the burden I bear personally -- for the church; for my church; for moral leadership in immoral times; for those I people with whom I am in constant, (in)frequent, semi-regular or even incidental contact; for my life to be a witness of God's redeeming power; for people to grasp hold of the grace that Jesus lavishly bestowed on us -- is beyond words; beyond my own capacity, at times, even to articulate.
frodo has always been a hero, even when I most wanted to emulate aragorn (or at least, envied his ultimate station). but no one knew, though sam had a glimpse, the weight of frodo's heart.
everyone needs a sam to bear the burden with us. I wonder if that is not the crux of the post-human experience: to have a travelling companion accompanying us on our faith journey. or, until we know our own burden, to be that companion.
but was it mine to diagnose? was it my right or purpose to prescribe treatment? as the conversation was wrapping up, after no small amount of tension from our mutual good-natured but direct lines of questioning, I asked my friend what his expectations were in bringing up the topic with us.
"just to pray for me," he said. ouch.
how many times have I done that? again I refused my own medicine: to defer judgement, to listen with an ear of empathy, to be there as a friend unloaded the stress and burden of confronting a loved one with a message he did not want to share, and one they would not want to hear.
murray says humiliation is the only ladder to honor in God's kingdom. fairly the reverse of what we teach or believe in a capitalist, democratic, get-it-now-at-all-costs society. one wherein we leave non-Christ followers with the impression Christianity is nothing more than a set of rules more heavily skewed in favor of the dont's than the do's, and the newly born again are left more with a dreamy vision of having received the proverbial cherry atop his or her american dream than a life of sacrifice and spiritual discipline. for each misconception we are guilty of producing in the minds of others, how many rungs do we inevitably climb down?
and while we are descending ... I sometimes wonder what the point is of our collective bickering over such disputable matters as women in leadership, war in iraq, anonymous blogs, the true spirituality of those who attend r-rated films, Christ followers imbibing adult beverages, politics in general. does each side vest itself in a politically charged discussion to prove the other side wrong? to hear oneself speak? to marvel in the ability to share one's thoughts without fear of censor (or censure)? how many bite their tongue, pray for those who disagree -- or worse, attack -- because philosophies diverge? how many of us, in our zeal to be heard, choose to protect a tender heart with a thick skin?
in assessing whether we walk in humility, my pastor cautioned against the dual deceptions of legalistic holiness and false humility. we concluded the acid test for diagnosing either was to ask ourselves two basic questions in our moments of seemingly noble thought and regal action:
what is my motivation for speaking or taking action? who ultimately benefits from it?
Jesus instructed his disciples to learn of his meekness and lowliness of heart. He had no aspiration, beyond loving us. even if it meant dying to fully demonstrate it. when His words finally sank in at pentecost, the apostles knew their end would be as ignominious as His own: to follow the model set by Jesus to its logical conclusion, none of them held to any illusion of long life or retirement. there was no misconception that they would see the second coming with their own eyes. their glory, they knew, would manifest itself in a violent end.
the kicker of it all was, they had taken the Master's words to heart. they knew to increase, they must first decrease. even to the death.
and so they did.
It is very improbable that a man will die for his religion, when he cannot be persuaded to live according to it. - John Tillotson (1630-1694)
so I said on friday. I stand by those remarks. and I stand by these as well: I am deeply committed to the church I attend and serve, because I believe it is where God called me to be. if not forever, certainly for time beyond my reckoning.
I know this from opportunities that crossed my path that would have moved me from the hudson valley area of new york. they were all solid job offers (except the veggie tales gig, which was a bust -- great people, cool company, so.not.my.speed). they were all offering a serious financial package worth giving its due (read, full) consideration.
they were all worthwhile moves. and they were all, each in their own way, wrong moves.
there is a certain element of unspoken pride, whether concious or no, in being one of the pioneers of an organization. and yet it is only just now, some 20 years later, that I begin to ermerge as one of its key leaders. so there may well be a sense of entitlement, a sense of novelty at my own "arrival".
but at the time I had these wonderful and myriad opportunities before me, the certainty of my destination as a key man was far from guaranteed. in fact, it was still very so dormant.
one opportunity presented itself in the form of a lead technical position at a small startup. that startup is now a serious player in commercial internet applications for gps in orange county, ca. another was the potential cto position for a strong regional niche internet developer in the deep south. and the other was that fateful trip to lombard, ill.. my first ever, all-expenses-paid recruiting gig.
each offer was better than the next. and the first offer was, "write your own ticket, macker."
wow, three companies clamoring over me enough to let me know my skills were valuable to them. ever felt wanted like that? it's just rare enough of a phenomenon that I indulged the moment. so I gave the offers serious consideration. I prayed. I might have even become super spiritual and fasted. and yet, something stuck in the back of my head ... ultimately, of the two truly viable offers, they were both about the money. there was no amount of money would ever sway me back to manhattan, a two-hour train ride from my current location. what, then, would ever make me want to travel several thousand miles away?
well, the stock options, for one. the very real thought that I might be able to cash in after 2 years of service was rather appealing. can you imagine? work your a$$ets off for two years, then retire at, uh, age 33. shweeeet.
remember this was 1998, when any idea composed in the shower warranted a website and an angel investor. this one was a really really good bet. and it was always about the money. and I am not about the money. I may be about many things; salary alone just is not enough to make it go for me.
I suppose that could sound very pretentious. king of pretension I am, but there is this place, deep down in my heart, where all pretense is stripped away, and I am really real: am I worth six figures? is money really that much more important to me than God? is there somehing I truly lack that only money can provide? is any job important enough to me to chase after it?
in each case, the cold hard answer was no. so deeply was I convicted of these truths, so unsettled was I at the thought of uprooting my family for my career, that as promising as the offers were, I could never be at peace accepting any of them.
I have no issue with people moving for their job. I know plenty of people who have done it, and whom God has blessed for their faithfulness. my personal conviction has always been, and my life history has always born out, the reality of finding a job where God has placed me. for the entirety of my adult life it has been in the hudson valley, and I have not lacked for employment. I have not always earned what I was paid, but I am faithful to what I have been given.
and the church is one of those things. although at the time of my dilemma I did not influence as many as I might potentially now, I was as convinced then as I am now of my purpose there. I was then, as I am now, to put it in crass commercial terms, a stakeholder in the welfare, vitality and growth of this particular church planting. God brought me here, he gave me a reason to be here, whether I (choose to) see it or not. my time here is not over. in fact, it would seem my time is just beginning.
and there is yet much to do. many hearts to reach with the love of a Divine Creator who wishes only to be a constant in our lives, rather than a variable of opportunity. there are many lives to see restored, healed, reconstructed, repurposed. many people to be reached with the message of a life grounded and centered in the grace and mercy that only Jesus can provide.
many starfish remain on the beach. for each one tossed back into the surf, my purpose is that much more fulfilled. as I continue to toss starfish, I find I have been graced with the opportunity to teach others to do likewise. and the more I teach people, the more I find my purpose is truly fulfilled only when I let them teach me as well.
like gene, his wife was a complement of grace. as pastors of a small church on the outskirts of washington, d.c., they were a little ahead of their time. we were all in the same church in alaska once upon a time, and God as my witness, I do not believe the church leaders quite knew what commodity they had on their hands with eva. she was just that out of their grasp, conceptually. and perhaps from a legalistic angle, as well.
bear and harv are their two boys, and two guys I got to know fairly well during our collective "alaska days". I've even got the yearbook signatures to prove it. we had some good times, if brief. I remember envying them their fairly carefree existence in their throes days, living at home, and touring the mid-atlantic states playing some good rem-ish alterna-pop.
I'm 
what is my motivation for speaking or taking action?
