Let Him In!

                 

Jack was jogging through his local county park one grey afternoon when he felt an intense pain run down his left arm. Slowing his pace he turned down a wooded path that led back to his car. The light grew dimmer, and then, much to his surprise, the sun appeared and he noticed a wall on each side that he’d never seen before. At the end was a white gate, then a green garden filled with sunshine.

When Jack reached the gate a kind-faced woman opened it, smiled and said, “Welcome Jack. I’m Marie. They’re expecting you. Please sit over by the flowering tree and someone will be right with you.”

Then she walked about 30 yards, went through a door in a hedge, and was gone.

Jack knew he should be disturbed by these strange circumstances, yet he wasn’t. He felt uncommonly relaxed. He was wondering what tree produced such colorful and fragrant blossoms, and where his car had gone, when a young handsome man approached him. 

“Welcome, Jack,” he said. “I’m Elias. I just want to ask you a few questions and your escort will take you to your room. Do you have any favorite colors?”

“Well, I really like yellows, bright blue and white. But why do you want to know?” asked Jack. 

”We’re getting  your place ready for you,” Elias said as he made notes in a file folder. “What view do you prefer: woods, fields, mountains, lake?” 
“Lake, please,” said Jack. “But tell me, why am I here? Am I dead?” 
“Not anymore,” Elias said.“You had a heart attack on the jogging path. When you walk through the door in the hedge you will enter unending life. There is just one thing you will do before you go to that door. It is our custom here to let the newest arrival greet the next arrival, as Marie greeted you. I’ll stay here with you until he arrives.”

Jack couldn’t tell how long they waited. It seemed to him that time was no longer important. He felt content and joyful like never before. He wanted to sit there forever. Then he heard steps approaching the gate. Elias took out another file and said, “This is Mike. Please open the gate and let him in.”

Jack happily walked toward the gate, but when he saw Mike, everything changed.

A volcano of fear, grief, hate and anger erupted inside Jack. He reheard the shouts, the shots, the explosive crash, saw the blood everywhere and felt the cold face of the friend he loved.

“No!” he cried. “No! I can’t let him in. Elias, don’t you know what he did?”

Elias’s eyes spoke understanding, but his voice was steady and low. “No, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have his record?” insisted Jack incredulously.

“No, we don’t. All records were destroyed by our Lord.”

“There must be a record somewhere,” Jack insisted.

“Oh, yes, there is, but it’s not here.  The Accuser has it. He saves everything.”

“The Accuser?”

“Yes, the Accuser. In Hebrew he’s called Satan.”

“Wait, you have some records. When I got here you knew my name and some of my history.”

“Oh, yes, of course we know some things, like when you started to follow the Lord.  Let me see. Michael Sullivan.  Born again April 18, 2021, McCreary Prison, Lexington, Kentucky.”

“You have prisoners here?!” Jack exclaimed.

“Oh, no! We don’t imprison anyone. That would be the other place. So, are you going to let him in?”

“Look, I don’t see why I am under any obligation to open the door for Mike. That would be like saying I forgive him for what he did to me.”

“Precisely”

“But I never agreed to that.”

“Oh, but you did.  Thousands of times.”

“Thousands of times? When?”

“Did you ever pray the prayer the Lord taught his disciples?” Elias asked. “You call it the Lord’s Prayer.”

“Of course I’ve prayed it.  Ever since I was a kid.  We even used to pray it in school when I was little. What’s that got to do with this?”

After a pause, Elias continued, “Did you pray ‘forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us?’”

After a long silence Jack admitted he had.

“Well, then,” Elias said.  “Forgive Mike the way our Lord has forgiven you…totally.”

“But that’s impossible,” Jack wailed.

“God never asks us to do impossible things. Hard, but not impossible.”

“But, can’t I ask God to forgive me even if I can’t forgive Mike?”

“Let me ask you something, Jack. Do you remember the story of the prodigal son? Even when his father begged him, the older son refused to join the party.

Jack quickly glanced at Mike, waiting to be let in, and nodded.

“Do you still have the letter?” Elias asked.

Jack knew what letter Elias meant, the letter from the Victim-offender Reconciliation Program at the prison. 

“Look,” continued Elias. “the door to unending life is right over there. It’s called forgiveness. It’s not called, “I forgive” or “I’m forgiven”  it’s simply called “forgiveness.”  You either want to go there, or you don’t. As soon as you let Mike in you can go together.”

Jack shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not ready.  I need more time.”

“You want more time, Jack?” Elias asked.

Jack nodded.

“Granted.”

Jack felt his body lift and fall. Glaring lights blinded him.  He heard a “beep, beep, beep” over his head.

“He’s back,” exclaimed a woman in blue scrubs.

‘Oh, no!” thought Jack. “What have I done?”

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

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. Mark 11:25

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

Would You Ever Leave Again?

What do you think about the older brother’s reaction to his brother’s returning home? Read about him here.

In Jesus’ story we often refer to the younger brother as “the prodigal son.” You know how after wasting his father’s hard-earned wealth, he finds himself destitute, walks home barefoot, and is enthusiastically greeted by his dad who throws a big party to celebrate his return. 

What could possibly have given the younger son the courage to walk back up to the door from which he had so arrogantly departed? What kind of man do you think the son knew his father to be? At least he knew he was a good man, not lacking in compassion or prone to retribution.  I would guess he also knew his father loved him.  That he did not expect the welcome home celebration he received tells us he had underestimated both his father’s love and his father’s grief when he left home. But he knew his father would treat him as well as any other beggar who showed up asking for work, so he went home.

Imagine yourself in this son’s place.  You are expecting a lecture and hoping for a few pieces of bread, and instead you get the best clothes, a ring on your finger and the fattened calf with the local band.  Would you ever leave your father again?!

Now imagine you are the older brother.  You had watched your dad worry and grieve over your brother.  You saw him age years in the months his son was away.  You had hoped to never see the ungrateful brat again, but here he is and your father has not held back anything to celebrate.  And you are mad!  So you stay outside, hoping your father will notice how mad you are.  When he sees you he comes out with a big smile on his face and begs you to please come in and be glad with him.  Why do you refuse?

I love the story of the prodigal son because it speaks so clearly and loudly of God’s heart for you and me.  He wants us home. Never mind where you have been – never mind what you have done – never mind all the time  you wasted – just come home and celebrate our being a family.  Your Father loves you.  He wants you with him, under his roof, safe and sound, surrounded by love. 

Jesus told us to pray, “your will be done.” Maybe we left home like this younger son because we thought we knew better how to enjoy life.  When we found out how wrong we were, we went home, knowing our Father’s will was our good. Would we ever leave again? 

How different this is from the relationship the older son has with his father when he says,

“Look, all these years I have worked for you like a slave, and I have never disobeyed your orders.”

He’s doing the father’s will, but his obedience is contractual, and he feels like a hired worker.

Meanwhile inside the younger son is eating and dancing and reveling in his father’s love. Tomorrow morning the three of them will head out to the fields together.

Which son would you rather be?

Light in the Darkness

silhouette photography of mountain
Photo by Tomáš Malčo Malík on Pexels.com

Yesterday afternoon, Saturday, my festive small town shopping district was jarred into darkness by gun fire.  A local merchant died publicly from self-inflicted wounds.  The street that a week ago welcomed Santa on the fire engine now was filled with police vehicles and the crime scene truck.  This tragedy followed closely behind two others nearby: a church that burned to the ground from arson, and the Jersey City shootout that took the lives of a police detective and three others.

We know now that owners of a Kosher deli and the attached Jewish school were targets in the plot which led to the urban shootout.  As the peaceful little town of Bethlehem was driven into agony by King Herod, so these terrorists were anxious to kill Jewish boys.  

Matthew is the only Gospel writer who notes Herod’s atrocity.  Perhaps Matthew’s little brother was among the toddlers slain so cruelly.  We don’t know, but the memory of that day was Matthew’s to share.  

We want so badly to expunge these dark stories from our Christmas.  Yet, that is exactly where they belong.

The prophet Isaiah : The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.  

The prophet Micah : Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;…when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.

Jesus’ friend John:  In him was life, and that life was the light of men. That light shines in the darkness, and yet the darkness did not overcome it.

THE DARKNESS CANNOT OVERCOME THAT LIGHT.

That is the Christmas story.  Not even the darkness of killing God’s beloved son on a Roman cross can overpower his Light.

When Jesus said, “I am the light of the world,” he was talking to you.  He was telling you that all the darkness around you, and all the darkness within you, cannot overpower the life he brings to you.

I hate being in the dark, which is why I carry flashlights everywhere.  I want to be the one with the light when the electricity goes off.  I want to have light when the sun sets and we are still in the woods.  I want to have light in my heart when the world goes dark.

Do you want to carry such light everywhere?  You need to ask Jesus to enter your heart.   He made you a promise:
“I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.”

Scriptures:  Isaiah 9:2 (ESV)  Micah 7:8 (ESV) John 1:4-5 (CSB)  John 8:12

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