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How much forgiveness is enough?

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This is something I have been struggling with ever since I saw those 21 orange clad men marched out on the beach to their deaths. When you’re confronted with a purely evil act you wonder if you could forgive. I have been asking myself over and over again, could I forgive if those men had been my friends, my family? It has been a stumbling block to my writing I have not been able to get over.

Forgiveness is central to the core belief system of Christianity, one of the cornerstones on which our faith is built. And it’s easy to say, easy to believe. It feels right deep down in your soul. That is, until someone does something to one of your own.

I remember when the Amish school girls were killed and how the world watched in amazement when even in the midst of their grief and loss, they didn’t cast blame or point fingers. They didn’t hold a press conferences and surround themselves with lawyers. They simply forgave. Even more astounding is that they reached out in love to the killer’s family and even went to his funeral. There were more Amish there than non-Amish.

They acted in pure grace, the grace that they learned from their open Bibles; the kind Jesus taught and the kind He displayed, even while dying an excruciating death by praying for those who were still mocking even as He gasped His last breath.

What I didn’t remember about the Amish case was that the killer, Charles Roberts, was tormented for nine years by the premature death of his young daughter and never forgave God for her death. It’s easy to love your enemies if you have none. And it’s easy to forgive if there is nothing to forgive. It’s easy to embrace the philosophy of forgiveness but when it comes down to it, could I really forgive the unforgivable? I struggle with even the small stuff.

I had problems with the scooter in front of me this morning on the way to work. There he was buzzing along fully 10 miles under the speed limit. It was the fastest he could go. He was doing the best he could, poor guy. But I was as irate as I sensed everyone else was. Then I thought, maybe that’s his only mode of transportation right now. I was heaping all this silly rage on his poor unsuspecting head. I prayed for forgiveness. Again. I have to do that a lot while I drive.

As I re-read the beatitudes this morning, I realized how far off the mark I really am.

Peter once asked Jesus just how much we are supposed to forgive. I understand that, I really do. In effect what he was asking was, how much is enough? What’s the required amount to fulfill God’s expectations. Peter was still stuck on the Law. Jesus said, “70 times 70,” which is pretty much infinity.

I wonder sometimes how well I really know Jesus. What He says is truly counter-cultural here in America. We are fighters after all. We don’t lay down and die. It’s written all over our history books. We are a nation of upstarts, otherwise the Boston Tea Party never would have happened.

As a Christian, I have to accept that certain American ideals I have grown up believing are not necessarily Biblical. There are times when laying down the sword and turning the other cheek is not a weakness, it’s the hardest thing in the world to do.

This is what I was mulling over in my mind this morning:

Not forgiving someone is giving them power over you. Forgiveness frees the soul and places the balance of power back where it belongs, with God. It’s a matter of trust that He, as the ultimate Judge will ultimately and in His time, right every wrong.

What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows. Matthew 10:29-31

Image from Google

Easters I remember……….

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Posing in our Sunday Easter best in the backyard…………The joy of patent-leather yellow shoes to go with the most beautiful dress I had ever seen…….The year my Mom thought the washer was a good place to hide my basket……..and Easter showers when all the ladies in their finery had to dash from curb to church holding their hats and clutching their raincoats……..and Daffodils, heads bent low from the wetness and the vivid green of the grass when the sun finally came out.

I remember……so excited the cousins were coming to visit…..and my Grandmother boiling eggs in her large pot, fretting about how many cracked……and egg dye making stains on the towel, and finally, seeing who could do the ugliest egg after dipping from one color to the next. I remember the year we hoped and prayed for a joyous sermon, only to get “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down”……and Aimee at the organ and “Up from the grave He arose……”

And I can still see my Grandmother’s dining room table and the giant Easter bunny cookie she always made, scotched taped from the back because it always broke. And the jelly beans she places around it, along with the grass.

I remember holding hands and singing “Morning has broken………” at my Aunt’s Methodist church sunrise service. I remember wonderful Easter dramas and over the top excitement because “so and so” said they would come to church. Especially the one year Jesus disappeared and we still don’t know how they did it.

And the year in Arizona when we saw the mother duck leading her ducklings on the way to church on an impossibly beautiful morning. Every Easter, I remember these things.

Every Easter, I feel the hope all over again.

The Watcher on the Wall

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It was early, and the rooster had yet to announce the start of the new day. He was busy watching the commotion from his sentry spot on the wall. He ruffled his feathers against the cold.

The animals were restless, there was some evil afoot and they seemed to sense it. Donkey was tethered to a nearby post and moved about uneasily shifting her feet. She gave a toss of her head toward the mob of people who were moving through the street. It was quite a large crowd and there were soldiers and religious leaders, and lots of shouting and jostling. Being pushed ahead of them was a poor man. His hands were tied and he was bruised and battered.

Donkey shivered but not from the cold. She knew that man. He was the one to whom she had lent her colt just the week before. And down below stood one of the two gentleman who came to ask her master. He was standing nearby warming his hands by the fire. He seemed nervous, looking this way and that.

She brayed loudly and said, “Something is not right here rooster, that man they have there is innocent. He is a good man, a kind man. For when they asked for my colt they didn’t separate us, they led us both together. And He was ever so gentle with my baby. He is a King, I tell you!”

Rooster fluffed himself up, proudly. “Yea…..how well I know. My grandfather was one who was in the manger the night he was born. There were angels and signs in the Heavens. Oh what a glorious night that was. He watched from the rafters as the wee one was born and he saw the shepherds when they came into the stable, faces still alight with what they had just seen and heard. He crowed the dawn in on that day alright, and what a day it was.”

But this activity down below was quite a new development. He prided himself on knowing things first, but this was unexpected and it wounded his pride greatly.

Donkey said, “Don’t fret rooster. I have heard that you have yet to play a part in this drama.”

Rooster puffed himself up even bigger than he already was. “Yes, of course, as it should be. After all, this bloodline is royalty.” Speaking of his own. “It’s only fitting since my grandfather was the one to usher in the King the first time and I should be the one to usher in His Kingship the second time.”

“But this…..this doesn’t seem to be going well. I really should bring in the dawn of this new day, but it isn’t right, I tell you. I am used to crowing good news, and this is not good news at all, that He should be bound and dragged from place to place like a common criminal. Don’t they know who He is?”

Immediately down below, they heard someone question the gentlemen who was one of His friends:

“You also were with Jesus of Galilee,” she said. But he denied it before them all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

Then he went out to the gateway, where another servant girl saw him and said to the people there, “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.”

He denied it again, with an oath: “I don’t know the man!”

After a little while, those standing there went up to Peter and said, “Surely you are one of them; your accent gives you away.”

Then he began to call down curses, and he swore to them, “I don’t know the man!”

At this Rooster could hold it in no longer, he crowed loud and long. “Nooooo……he crowed. It’s not sooooo…..” He thought his poor rooster heart would break with the sorrow of it all. He thought of how proud he was that his family had always had a part, however small, in ushering in the Good News. Now this. He would be remembered all throughout history as the rooster that crowed in disaster. He hung his head in sadness and shame. He didn’t feel like crowing anymore.

The animals watched sadly as the man called Peter fled behind a wall and wept bitterly.

Donkey hung her head, and she felt the deep sorrow that is unique to the animal kingdom alone. For they remember who made them……it’s only the human species that seems to forget.

But Rooster would soon be redeemed though he didn’t know it at the time.

For Easter was coming and he would be ready.

 

 

Lent Day 44: Hope beyond Maundy Thursday

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It was just a spot of yellow I saw from a distance. It drew me into the clearing and I paused, admiring it for blooming there all alone, with no crowd to see it, no fellow companions like those I saw earlier planted in huge clusters along the path. But it bloomed anyway and it made me feel like I was witnessing something tragic and brave and heroic. But I saw it. It showed me that it’s never a waste to bloom no matter where you are.

It’s the last day of Lent and I will never forget these posts. When I prayed, and waited, He never failed to supply the words. Every….. single……time.

But now it’s Maundy Thursday and I am empty. And sad. I feel like I am in that dark little room with Jesus and the disciples right after it all went sour. Right after Judas left and Jesus just informed them that they would all leave Him before the night was out.

Sometimes it’s hard to hope in Heaven when it seems so far away. Sometimes there are just days where you’re stuck in the sadness of Maundy Thursday and life seems like a big tangled ball of twine that’s impossible to manage. I ache for everyone I care about and I can do nothing to make all their situations better. And yet I know this too shall pass.

The sun will rise tomorrow and we will be one day closer to Resurrection. And God fixing everyone and everything once and for all. But until then, there are plenty of things to be thankful for.

I hear my Mom’s voice in my head telling me, “The birds are still singing, Lori” and that makes me want to cry.

I remember the old Indian man in the movie, “Little Big Man” who decided that it was a good day to die.He goes up to the mountain, spreads his blanket and lays down and closes his eyes, face to the sky. You think maybe he did die, but then rain starts to fall and his eyes blink.

He rolls up his blanket and goes home. It may not be a good day to die, but somedays, it’s okay to cry for awhile, then roll up your blanket and go home.

I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.” Psalm 62:5

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Lent Day #43: “I have seen the Lord”

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I think it’s a strike of genius for director Franco Zeffirelli to have cast “Mrs. Robinson” as Mary of Magdala in 1977’s “Jesus of Nazareth.” For those of you youngsters, Anne Bancroft played the older (married) woman who Dustin Hoffman had an affair with in “The Graduate.” Later he goes on to date (and then marry) her daughter who was played by the lovely Katherine Ross. As I was praying and pondering what the Lord would have me post today. All I got was one phrase:

“I have seen the Lord.”

Immediately, I saw Anne Bancroft’s beatific expression in my mind, she so brilliantly played the part as only she could. I have often thought of why Jesus picked Mary of Magdala as the first person to see Him after he rose from the grave. I imagine her hurrying up the path with the other women, sorrow still so fresh upon her soul.

When they came to the tomb and found the stone rolled away, Mary immediately ran and found Peter and John and after they saw the empty tomb, they believed but went home. Mary though, stayed at the tomb and wept. Because she stayed, she was rewarded by an angel visitation and then, Jesus Himself.

I wonder how many times we just go home too soon and miss the miracle?

Last night we had a visit with a neighbor and the topic rolled around (as it does so often) to religion. He felt like many people do, that religions are basically all the same and that the three main religions, Muslim, Judaism, and Christianity all worship the same God so the differences are just technicalities. Those weren’t his own words, I am paraphrasing. After identifying that we were Christian we talked about the Bible and he said what so many people say. All those books were imperfect because they were written by a bunch of men who generated their own opinions and bias into it.

I didn’t want to get in a big long debate so I just said, “To me, what makes Christianity stand out from all the rest is that it’s a relationship with a living God who wanted to come down and relate to His people on a personal level. All the others are man trying to find God. And it’s changed lives, transformations in my own life and other lives I have seen.”

I guess what I was trying to say was that like Mary Magdalene at the tomb, “I have seen (and experienced) the Lord!”

I guess that’s what it all comes down to. I have felt the same joy and wonder and excitement Mary did when she came face to face with Jesus and realized her life would never ever be the same. And I have seen it in others too.

That’s our hope, with it we have everything, without it, no matter how much we have in this life, it will never be enough.

Lent Day 39: “What else can I do?”

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I have just finished the remarkable true life story of Chinese-born Christian Pastor Liu Zhenying or “Brother Yun” as he is more widely known. It’s a story of a life totally surrendered and dedicated to lifting up Jesus no matter what the cost, and the cost was great. It was prison time, it was torture, and days without food, years without his family. But even more than that, it was a story of victory and joy and how God is still very much a God of miracles as displayed by many events in the book.

As I walked back into work after my break, my soul felt buoyant, lighter somehow.  I was remembering a special time in my life when I was a new believer and faith was very simple. I was 14 and I knew my parents couldn’t afford the refrigerator they needed so I told Mom I thought she should tithe her money and we would pray for a new fridge at the same time. She ended up finding one like new for $25.00. I can still see it if I close my eyes, it was big and it was beige and it was a humming miracle.

That refrigerator lasted for years.

There are so many other things to put our trust in here in our modern society. Everything we need is at our fingertips, but when you have great need there is little option but to trust God for your needs. The one thing that impressed me most about Brother Yun was that even under extreme duress and pain, he forgave those even while they were beating him. And he had what I call the “what else can I do” attitude. He was always looking for another opportunity to help those in need, even though his own needs were insurmountable.

Most of us are not under such extreme circumstances and most of us, at least those of us here in America have pretty much all we need and much more. But when we give God our open heart, He will always find plenty of ways we can bless the others around us. 

I’ll use my best friend as an example as I do so many times in this blog. She has one of those “what else can I do” hearts. Always looking to make things better for others. Yesterday, she came home from working and doing errands and I knew she was exhausted. She has been trying to recover from an illness for a month. Even so, she knew that our Canadian neighbors would soon be home and she wanted to do something for them. She went out and trimmed their trees, swept the walk, and drug all their patio furniture out so they could relax in their patio as soon as they got home.

She amazes me.

Now as we come to the 39th day in the desert with Jesus, He is hungry…….and tired……. and at the end of His strength. Satan comes at the very worst time. (Doesn’t he always?) But Jesus is thinking of you and me. And He doesn’t cave in. The angels come to minister to Him. And then He lifts His eyes to the Heavens and asks His Father.

“What else can I do?”

Lent Day #38: The heart opens from the inside

 

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“To the angel of the church inLaodicea write:

The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God, says this:

‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth. Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,” and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself, and that the shame of your nakedness will not be revealed; and eye salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent. Revelation 3:15-19

I am just finishing up the book, “Heavenly Man” by Brother Yun and I feel the kind of awe and stillness that comes as a result of seeing a people, a church, fully yielded and committed to their Lord and the miraculous things He does through them as a result. When you finish a book like that there is really nothing you can say, except that I felt like I got a glimpse of the real church in action.

Right now, the world is watching real Christianity as its marched across the global stage in its purest and most self-sacrificing form, by following the example that Jesus Himself set. All my life I have been taught that Jesus is standing at the door knoocking on the heart of the unsaved sinner. Brother Yun reminded me in his book that the door that Jesus is standing in front of is none other than the church door. And hearts, like doors, open from the inside. Sobering thoughts on this 38th day of Lent.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’” Revelation 3:20-22

All I can do is watch in awe as my brothers and sisters all over the world, and many right here on our own soil, are stepping up one by one and saying, “We won’t turn back, no matter how hard it gets, even if we have to pay with our very own lives.”

Sometimes the sacrifices others make seem all but impossible to me, settled as I am in my comfortable corner of life. Other times, the sacrifices are played out in the smaller, more ordinary ways; the everyday choices to do the right thing over and over again, even in extremely challenging circumstances. I guess it’s easy for me to think of Jesus being really impressed with the “Big” ones and chide me for my pithy offerings, but the truth is, He notices things like cold cups of water given in love.

All I can do is peer into my own heart in humble gratitude that He still loves me, regardless of how far too often, my hands still clutch at the world and my eyes are still dazzled by all it has to offer.

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

 

Lent Day 37#: Waiting for our Salvation

 

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I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him;

it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.

Lamentations 3:24-26

When I started this Lent writing it was with the distinct purpose of not writing anything without first having a quiet time in prayer focused on seeking the Lord with an attitude of expectation of what words He would give me. It has been a richly rewarding experience I won’t soon forget. Many times I struggled and heard nothing until very late in the day, but I always received something. 

I have written before how this blog was birthed when I start having these times alone with God in the mornings out in the little shop. Those times have become an integral part of my life. I guess you could say they’ve become a necessary habit. It’s important though, that it doesn’t become something stale, or just something I do to check off my list. Instead, God has rewarded my small faithfulness with something completely different.

Those times have become treasured moments spent with a Friend who longs to hear from me.

Sometimes, however, there are no quiet times to be had. That makes it all the more cherished when I do get it. When I was in California, there was little quiet time, instead there was lots of noise and activity. But in between all that there were little snatches of quiet time here and there.

There was my Mom asking me to come with her to see some trees she thought were incredible.

There was time spent at the park with my Dad and my niece, swinging on the swings.

There was my niece screaming my name over and over in excitement when she saw me at her swim practice.

There was the joyful expression on my Mom’s face when she saw her clean car.

I find that now that those quiet times have been permanently sewn into the fabric of my being, that they sometimes happen even when I don’t expect them to, even in the times that are anything but quiet.

Today I looked forward to spending a little time outside on my break where I could pray and meditate in the beautiful Arizona weather. But the landscapers had a different idea. In Between the birdsong and soft music I heard the chainsaw trimming the giant Palm trees at the entrance to our building. Thankfully it was sporadic.

It’s Spring-time here in the desert and right now it’s easy to glory in God’s creation. The thorn-yielding cacti are giving way to blooms that scream “notice me!!!” in brilliant prisms of color. The cactus wrens, doves and red-tailed hawks are all courting and building nests. Like the palm waving crowd lining the road when Jesus was coming into Jerusalem, the desert is crying out in praise to its Creator.

Picture yourself as this butterfly resting on the lilac branch. Life, work, family, and the world are all hovering around you but everything you need is right there on that flower.

You won’t go far without it.

Photo taken by my brother: Ron L. Cook

Lent Day #36: Prayer Matters

Christ our Passover.....

“Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted……..” 2 Timothy 3:12

In the light of the massive amounts of persecution we see around the world just about every day now, this verse comes vividly to life from our computer screens and TV’s. In fact, all those Bible verses have come to life for me as I am reading the accounts of the beginnings of the Chinese house church movement. In the book, “The Heavenly Man,” the autobiographical story of Liu Zhenying, also known as Brother Yun I read vivid accounts of heartbreaking persecution and unbelievable suffering for the cause of Christ.
What does this mean for me here in America, the land of the free. Despite the fact that I believe our freedoms even here are eroding daily, we can still worship in the public sector without worrying about prison, death, or excommunication from our communities and families. We are extremely blessed to be living in a democracy that allows us to worship just about anywhere freely. I say “just about anywhere” because I feel the landscape is changing just as the Bible says in the last days it will.
I feel saddened when I see all the dusty expensive Bibles on my bookshelf. I have two I use regularly,  but I have others I’ve collected over the years, expensive reference Bibles with leather covers. I think of how precious just one verse or page would be to any of these persecuted groups even today. I think of the accounts of how the Chinese Christians hid and smuggled the Word, placing pages in loaves of bread; tucking pages under their coats and shoes. How they eagerly studied it, cherish it, memorizing whole chapters.
You might ask what one can do over here? There is much……we can financially support, but most of all we can pray. God says prayer matters. He says those mornings I spend out in my shop make a difference, and I believe they do. They change me for one thing. For another, I believe those prayers reach the very Throne of God. Over and over, there are accounts of miracles happening with no other explanation other than someone was praying and those prayers were felt.
I leave you today with one excerpt from the book that touched my heart. It takes place as some of he house churches were meeting after having some disputes over doctrine and teaching. The meeting was almost a failure until this:
The atmosphere deteriorated until it became like a business meeting, with everyone talking at once about different subjects. Many old wounds resurfaced and it became apparent the two groups were as far apart as they’d ever been. It looked as if Brother Zu had missed his chance to wash their feet (which God had spoken to his heart and told him to do) Suddenly Zhang slapped his knee and announced, “All this talk is a waste of time. Let’s pray and then we’ll leave.” Brother Fan pushed Brother Zu in the back and instructed him, “Quick! Get some water and do what the Lord told you to do!”
Zhang was praying with his eyes closed when Xu knelt down in front of him and started gently to take his shoes and socks off. Zhang opened his eyes and was amazed. He couldn’t believe the great Xu Yongze, leader of the largest house church movement in China, would ever kneel down and wash his feet! Zhang cried out and wrapped his arms around Brother Xu in a warm embrace.
Deborah Xu then brought out a bucket of warm water and started to wash the feet of Zhang’s co-worker, Sister Ding. The two of them knelt down on the floor and hugged and wept. “The Heavenly Man,”  Brother Yun with Paul Hattaway

Lent Day #35: Relationship……why He came.

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Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”) No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:31-37

Without a doubt, relationships can be the most challenging part or the most rewarding part of life. It’s those really close relationships that can really put our hearts through the wringer. We brush past people everyday barely skimming the surface of each others lives. We can smile while in line at the store, offer to let someone go in front of us, practice grace with those rude drivers, hold the door for a Mom laden down with strollers and packages, or an elderly person struggling with a walker. These are easy. It’s the ones we are closest to that are the hardest.

What do you do when a relationship you’ve always counted on is broken? It always seems like it’s one person who hurts worse than the other. How do you handle the indifference of someone you thought was so close? How can they not see your suffering in silence? How can they turn away and not care?

I believe God gave us family and friends to teach us the hardest lessons about practicing grace and love in the midst of pain. Sometimes pain so severe you think you might not live through it. But when we think about Jesus life, we see someone who loved perfectly so that we would never ever have to be alone in this life. He came to create a bond with us that would never be broken. Ever.

It’s true, we need each other. God created us to live in relationships. But the truth is, we need God more. There is only One relationship we can’t live without, either in this life or the life to come. When we put our trust in Him each day, He surrounds us with the strength and peace we need to keep going, even in the midst of turmoil in the people around us. I know that to be true from experience. Sometimes, all we can do is release our loved one to God’s care and know that as the King and Healer of hearts, He has the power to turn it around for ultimate good. But it’s so tough to do this. Jesus knows this, He was betrayed by one of his closest friends.

And I look at my own life, how I have failed Him so many times, sometimes barely skimming the surface of our relationship, even though it cost Him everything. His love continues to amaze me. He’s promised to never leave me or forsake me. That’s a guarantee that just doesn’t happen in this life.

Please know…………if you are going through heartache with a relationship today, be assured that there are people you don’t even know praying for you right now.

On earth and Heaven. Take heart, and take hope my friends.