Tag: Christ

Red and Yellow, Black and Blue

“Red and yellow, black and blue….”

My three year old granddaughter was holding her newborn brother for the first time. We were  taking cute shot after cuter shot, when she stopped “saying cheese” for  us and looked into her tiny brother’s face.   

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Giving him a sweet little-mom smile she started softly singing, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children in the world, Red and yellow, black and blue, they are…”  Her little voice stopped, looking for words to finish. “I don’t know what the words are,” she said.

My son, her dad, did a quick rewrite and sang with her, “Red and yellow, black and blue, they are precious to Him, too. Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

“Red and yellow, black and blue” makes me recall how many bruises my boys had as they grew.  They both gave themselves black eyes as they learned to walk.  And one of them had so many black and blue marks on his legs from learning to ride a bike, I was sure his pediatrician would look suspiciously at me.  When I told him that, he assured me the bruises did not fit patterns of abuse. 

We don’t want to think about how many children wear those patterns of abuse. My office in a medical center was across the hall from the emergency room, One afternoon a badly bruised four year old was brought in.  Our hearts broke when he died. Red and yellow, black and blue, they are precious to him, too.  

I know an EMT who was called to revive a 3 month old who had been thrown against a wall.  I know a teacher whose middle school student was hit and pushed by his mother until he suffered a brain injury and died   And I’ve seen the photos of late-term babies after abortions ended their short lives, their baby skins darkly bruised.

Black and blue, they are precious to him, too.

We can be tempted to ask God why, if he loves them, he lets these abuses happen. 

I think God however asks us, why, since he values them so much, we let these abuses happen.

Every child I just mentioned was in a situation that was known to be dangerous to the child.  Someone could have intervened and chose not to, for fear of their own safety or livelihood.

Black and blue in many ways, we are all broken.

My granddaughter’s sweet pose with her baby reminded me of a famous statue that moved my heart when I saw it many years ago, Michelangelo’s “Pieta.”  If any mother ever held an abused and bruised child, it was Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus.

God took on flesh and suffered with every beaten kid, thrown toddler and aborted baby. Black and blue, they are precious to him, too.

The prophet Isaiah says,”He lifted up our illnesses, he carried our pain;… He was wounded because of our rebellious deeds,
crushed because of our sins;
he endured punishment that made us well;
because of his wounds we have been healed.”

Because Jesus rose from death I know that, in the end, there will be justice for every abused child.  But there is also forgiveness offered for every abuser and every bystander who watched in silence. Everyone who wants to be healed, will be.

“Jesus died for all the children, all the children of the world. Red, brown, yellow, black and blue, they are precious to him, too.  Jesus died for all the children of the world.”

***************

Scriptures: Isaiah 53:4-5 (NET )

A Crumby Prayer

What if there were prayer screeners in Heaven – maybe a panel of judges that rate your prayers from zero to ten before they are sent on to the Throne Room? How would you do?  No doubt you have heard some eloquent, beautifully spoken prayers at churches, ceremonies, and formal events.  Would you give them a “10”?  Would Heaven?

What if you were at the end of your rope, or sick, or depressed, utterly exhausted and could hardly put three words together, would God listen to you?

One day such a woman harassed Jesus.  Matthew calls her a Canaanite woman; Mark calls her a Syrophoenician woman; I call her a mom – a mom with an incurably sick little daughter.  She hears Jesus is in town and she has no time to compose a winning plea for his help. She rushes to the house where Jesus is trying to remain unseen and starts yelling for Jesus.

“Have mercy on me, Lord,” she cries, “My daughter is horribly demon-possesed.”

Falling on the floor at his feet she begs, “Lord, help me!”

But there seems to be a problem.  This mom is a Gentile and Jesus was sent to the children of Israel. He tells her it wouldn’t be right to take the bread from the children and give it to the pets. The children have to eat first.

Whenever you are tempted to give up praying, remember this woman!

“But,” she says.

“But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

What a crumby prayer!  She admits she will settle for whatever bread will fall to the floor. Well, after all she is already down on the floor.  

But much more than that, she knows who is making the bread.

When she started yelling for Jesus she called him “Son of David.”  That’s the title of the heir to the royal throne, the Messiah, God’s anointed. These are no ordinary crumbs.

“Woman,” Jesus told her, “your faith is great! You may go. The demon has left your daughter.”

What  bread do you need today?

In the prayer Jesus taught, we pray, “give us today our daily bread.”

We don’t need eloquence to ask God for what we need – we need confidence in who He is.

By all means, when you can, compose beautiful songs and prayers of praise to God.  But when you can’t find words, that’s okay.  

“Lord, help me” is enough. 

************

Scripture reference: Matthew 15:22, Mark 7:25

Katie’s Cookies

When my sons were very little I brought home from the grocery story a Sesame Street book that held a recipe for Cookie Monster cookies.  The recipe page had cute illustrations of Cookie Monster throwing all the ingredients in a large bowl and stirring them up with a huge fork.  We followed his lead and thus began a family tradition of Cookie Monster cookies for Christmas.

Year after year we bought more and more cookie cutters and thrust them into rolled out dough – tin soldiers, doves, Santa’s sleigh, snow men, Christmas trees and such. Icing, sprinkles and edible silver balls completed the sweet joys.

And then came the year Katie died.  We knew she was struggling health-wise, but her death just before Christmas and her 11th birthday, shook us with unexpected grief.  Her parents chose to receive Katie’s mourners in their home.  And so, with beautiful Katie’s still body resting in the living room, we were going to gather in the kitchen to share tears and food.

What should I bring? I peered in the fridge and saw the bowl of cookie dough. Inspiration hit and I started rolling dough and cutting out crosses and angels.

Arriving at Katie’s house I handed the plate of cookies to her mom and said,  “These are resurrection cookies.” 

Every Christmas since we have baked crosses and angels to celebrate Katie’s life and coming resurrection.

I wonder if the same angel who went to the shepherds with the news of great joy also greeted Jesus’s mourners.

Maybe the angel who told young Mary she would bear a son also told her,“Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.”

“Do not be afraid.”   

“Do not be afraid.”

“Do not be afraid,” the angels say again and again.  

Do not be afraid because there was a cross, and Jesus did die and live again.

“Don’t be afraid, for look, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people: Today in the city of David a Savior was born for you, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

A Savior was born for Katie.  

A Savior was born for you.

If you roll out some cookie dough this week, I hope you make crosses and angels, 

because Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

Do you believe this?  Then rejoice and do not be afraid.  

*********************************

Scripture references: Luke 2:10,11; Matthew 28:5,6

Choose Your King

Jerusalem, 30 AD.  An itinerant teacher from Galilee borrows a donkey and rides downtown followed by a cheering crowd.  He goes into the temple and starts acting like he owns the place. Today, 1991 years later, we are still talking about it.

Overturning tables and chairs, spilling coins, driving out dealers of pigeons, Jesus clears the temple court of merchants and money changers.  He accuses the authorities of turning this place of prayer into a den of thieves.  They, in turn, are indignant and plot to eliminate the troublemaker.

The dispute here runs much deeper than disagreement about the use of the courtyard. The question is really about who is king.

The chief priests were ruling like kings, backed by the Roman Empire.  The were interlopers, having neither the right to the office of chief priest or claim to be rulers.  But they had power and wealth, so they didn’t care about rightful succession – at least not until the rightful heir to the throne and the temple showed up riding a donkey. 

A courtyard filled with children yelling “Hosanna to the Son of David!” was too much truth for them.

If you recall the Christmas story you know that Jesus was born into the House of David.  King David, before he died, prepared stones, timber and hardware for the building of the temple.  His son King Solomon built the temple.  Their descendant King Hezekiah cleansed the temple after a period of neglect.  And his descendent, King Zerubbabel, returned to Jerusalem from exile and rebuilt the temple the Babylonians had torn down. Now their descendent Jesus walks in and claims the place. He also claims standing as the son of God.

Five days later Jesus is under arrest.  His hands are tied and he is on trial before Pilate, the Roman proconsul, having been handed over by the chief priests.

Pilate asks him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Outside a crowd, stirred up by the chief priests, is yelling, “We have no king but Caesar.”

You know what happens next.  Pilate finds Jesus innocent but orders crucifixion; he is afraid of the king in Rome, Caesar.  The priests go celebrate their holiday, thinking their status with Caesar is secure.  Those who have chosen Jesus as king, shocked and confused, go home and mourn.

Had you been there in Jerusalem, whom would you have chosen, Jesus or Caesar?

Every day, whether we think about it or not, we choose our king. High priests of our culture  are demanding your obedience.  They might use their wealth and power of influence to cancel and destroy you if you choose Jesus.  Click here if you don’t know what I am talking about.

Before his arrest Jesus made a promise to his friends: “Your sorrow will turn into joy.”  He kept that promise.  When Sunday came he rose from death and the world changed forever.  

Choose your king wisely.  All the rulers and priests who tried to cancel Jesus are gone, as today’s soon will be.

Jesus is alive and looking for you.  Choose wisely.

Pray Like This….Our Father

The house was ablaze and John, having escaped,  searched for his young daughter in the dark street. When he could not find her he raced back into the building.  

He never came out. She had been outside, but he had not seen her.  I was told this story by John’s neighbors. His heartbroken daughter mourned for her courageous dad. But she knew without a doubt one thing many daughters and sons never know –  her dad loved her so much he would die for her.

Years ago I worked in an inner city neighborhood and would help out at the local children’s ministry.   When I started volunteering I was asked not to tell the children God was their father.  Their environment was filled with absent or abusive fathers.  Why would any child want to know a God like that?

What is your picture of a father?  

It doesn’t matter if you grew up with a great dad, bad dad or absent dad, your heart still wants the care and protection of a loving father.  

It doesn’t matter how old you are, either, does it?  You still want to know the dad you want wants you. You want to know your father would run into a flaming deathtrap to rescue you.

Amazingly God did just that.  God came to us as Jesus, who told his puzzled disciples, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”  Twelve hours later he was dying on a Roman cross to save your life.

If you want to know what God the Father is like, look at Jesus.

If you want to know what the Father does, watch Jesus.

If you want to know if you are loved enough to die for, ask Jesus.

Paul tells it this way:

He (Jesus) is the image of the invisible God, ….. 

For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 

and through him to reconcile to himself all things,

 whether on earth or in heaven,

 making peace by the blood of his cross.

It may be difficult to understand God loves us so passionately.  But look at Jesus. You will see the God who wants a loving relationship with you. You will see the God who dies for you.

If you haven’t read my last blog, it may help you, so check it out now and do the little exercise.  Please follow me so we can meet again next week.

Scripture reference: Colossians 1:15,19-20

Pray Like This….secretly

She was sick.  Really sick.  She had been bleeding for 12 years.

Luke, the physician who recorded her story, doesn’t tell us the source of her problem, but we can guess it was from “the way of women.”  She had no modern way to deal with this, just rags.  Rags she had to wash and boil and wash again.  

And she was tired.  Any unchecked loss of blood leads to anemia.  Sick, anemic and tired.

And she was poor.  She used to have money, but she had spent it all going from doctor to doctor looking for help.  But no one helped her.  Sometimes the treatments made her worse.  Sick, tired, poor.

And she was lonely.  In her day there were laws – good laws to help stop the spread of disease- about not touching certain things. These rules labeled her “unclean,” and anyone who touched her became unclean.  No one wanted to touch her.  She lived without hugs, kisses, hand-holding and arms around her shoulder, and, of course, no intimacy with a husband.  Her inability to have children brought her shame.  If she did stay with family they would be sure not to touch her or anything she touched.  Alone, sick, tired, poor.

Without hope.

Without hope until one day someone came to her village with stories about a rabbi who was a healer.  Stories were carried by mouth from village to village.  Slowly they began to arrive in her village.  There was a rabbi named Jesus who was teaching in a new way, and he was doing astonishing things.   Stories about useless legs walking, blind eyes seeing, leprosy leaving.  Stories that amazed and puzzled everyone.  Stories that started to raise the dead hope in her heart.

“Maybe,” she thought, “Maybe Jesus will heal me.  If he comes here I will go ask him.  Surely if he can cure blindness and leprosy he can cure me.”

But how would she go?  Everyone in the village knew she was unclean  They would see her coming.  They would back away.  They would yell at her and tell her to go home.

“Go home,” they would say. “Jesus is a holy man.  If you touch him you will make him unclean!  Go away.  He is not here for you.”

Not here for her?  She sighed to think about what might happen is she tried to get close to Jesus.  But in the courage born of desperation, she decided she would do it.

“The messenger whom you long for is certainly coming.”  She had heard that prophesy many times.  “For you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.”

Healing!  She longed for healing.  She would go and touch the wings of his shawl and be healed.  She knew it.  She planned for it.  And then the day came.

One afternoon she heard children shouting in the street, “Jesus is coming!  Jesus is coming!” Her neighbors hurried out of their homes to see Jesus.  But she couldn’t join them.  No, she could not go with the crowd because they would tell her to go home.

Instead she grabbed her shawl, pulled it over her head, covering her face so no one would know her.  Then, looking down, she walked quickly in the direction of the noisy crowd. No one noticed or stopped her; they were too busy trying to get a look at Jesus.

When she saw him coming she ducked her head and, trembling with excitement, pushed through the tightly packed crowd until she was almost near Jesus.  Then bending down even more she watched his feet come closer and closer.  Her heart raced.  

“Now!” she thought and reached out her hand to touch the wing of his shawl.  Immediately she felt something.  She felt well!  But as she turned to run home and share her good news, Jesus suddenly stopped and yelled, “Who touched me?”

Panic poured over her.  She started to tremble and shake as she realized he knew what she had done. Was he mad at her?  She had broken the law by touching Jesus.  Now that Jesus knew, would he take her healing away?  She froze and waited.  Her eyes welling with tears.

“Oh, come on, Jesus,”  his friends said,  “Look at this crowd.  Everyone is touching you.  Why do you want to know who touched you?”

Everyone stopped as Jesus continued to look from face to face. “Someone touched me,” he said. “I know that power has gone out from me.”   Finally his eyes met hers.

Now her trembling increased to the point she could barely walk,  but somehow, as the crowd parted she made her way to him and fell to the ground.

“I had to touch you,” she told Jesus. “I’ve been so sick for so long. I just had to touch you.  I knew if I touched you I would be healed, and I am healed!”

Not daring to look up she stared at the hem of his robe and waited.

“Daughter,” he said to her in the kindest voice she had ever heard. 

“Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace.”

***********************************************

In Matthew 6 Jesus tells us to pray “in secret.” Of necessity the woman in our story had to approach Jesus secretly. In the commotion of a moving crowd she made a hidden place. Many persons in that crowd touched Jesus, but his power only went out to her.

You may have read books and articles on how to have a great Quiet Time with God. Their advice can be very helpful. But let’s not focus on how-tos and miss our goal: meeting in secret with God. The most important thing is wanting to be alone with God and making our way through whatever obstacles we have to be with him.

Remember Jesus said, “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

I hope you will read this woman’s story as Luke wrote it in chapter 8 of his Gospel, starting at verse 43.

“ But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.”

Malachi 4:2,3

The Power of Brandt Jean

Suddenly last week news shows and social media were filled with the gentle, articulate voice of Brandt Jean.  His forgiveness for his brother’s murderer was unexpected, but not unprecedented (Rev. Anthony B. Thompson forgave his wife’s killer in another poignant courtroom confrontation four years ago in Charleston.)

Some online discussion that followed distracted us from the import of this act. Let’s go back to Brandt and the power of what he did.

brandt-jean-testimony-700x438

The news that someone you love has been murdered pounds you.  Many years ago my friend Frank was shot in the face and died instantly.  When I heard, I felt someone had beaten me.  To the weight of grief was added the assault of evil.

We can hardly start to fathom the depth of Brandt’s pain over the loss of his brother Botham, but we can profoundly value it.  And that is what makes Brandt’s gift of forgiveness to Amber Guyger so stunningly powerful.

You may be thinking Amber does not deserve forgiveness, but think for a moment how you know that.  How do you know there is a moral law that says murder is wrong? How do you know that anything is wrong? How do you know that you, yourself, have done wrong?  I know you know that, as I know I have done serious wrong.

God put a moral law in our hearts;  when we break it, we break ourselves.  We can try hard to escape the despair of that brokenness, to push the pain away anyway we can, but we can’t keep it away.

But God, in Christ, took that pain on himself and died to remove our brokenness.  Christ has told us to pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“I hope you go to God with all the guilt, all the bad things you’ve done in the past.” Brandt told Amber. “If you truly are sorry, I know, I can speak for myself – I forgive you, and I know if you go to God and ask him, he will forgive you.”

Brandt lives in the forgiveness that has given life to him, and so he has the power to invite Amber to live also.  

There are only two choices:  to spend our days bickering and blaming, while the guilt in our souls destroys us, or to accept God’s forgiveness and offer mercy to everyone, even those who harm us.

“I want the best for you, because that’s exactly what Botham would want you to do. And the best would be to give your life to Christ,” Brandt said. “I’m not going to say anything else. I think giving your life to Christ would be the best thing that Botham would want you to do. Again, I love you as a person, and I don’t wish anything bad on you.”

I hope the power of this reaches you.  

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started