Awesome Sauce

This devotion got lost in the Thanksgiving festivities at Internet Cafe Devotions so I'm offering it as a second helping. Admittedly it's not very Christmas-y, but the message is a tasty treat any time of year. 

At the end of October my spindly tomato plants gasped their last breath. The tomatoes’ cracked skins, rot and dark spots told of the ravages from too much rain, cooler temperatures and lessening sunlight.

Although they’d be rejects at any produce market, I picked what I could and brought my battered harvest inside. Since they didn’t look appealing to slice and eat, I decided to make sauce.

I concocted a simple recipe, added the chopped tomatoes, and left the sauce to simmer for a long time. When the time seemed right, I nervously took a taste.

I was amazed! The sauce was awesome—nuanced, sweet and delicious! It shouted, “Blasphemer!” to the jarred sauce in my pantry. I marveled at how a bowl of ugly, half-rotting tomatoes became something so magnificent.

Sometimes I feel like one of those late season tomatoes--overwhelmed by imperfections, cracks and flaws. I feel battered by bad habits, rejection, insecurities and the lies of the enemy. Certainly God, you’d rather choose someone more perfect and appealing.

But I know in my heart this isn’t the way God sees me. Or any of His children.

During His ministry, Jesus’ went out of His way to find the “bad fruit”—like Samaritans, prostitutes, adulterers, lepers and tax collectors. Those who’d been stamped “unacceptable” by society, He gathered them close to forgive, teach, heal and love. It was to the most flawed and the most unlikely that Jesus revealed His Truth and amazing grace.

When the grade A fruit—the Pharisees—asked Jesus why he wasted His time with the rejects He answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Luke 5:31-32)

My translation says: “I have not come to pick the reddest and most perfect fruit; I’ve come to gather the bruised, rotting and broken to make something glorious with them.”

Jesus says this to me and He says it to you.

Maybe you feel like you’re less than perfect. That you’re more bad fruit than good. That you belong in the compost pile. Know that this is where our Savior does His greatest work. His grace redeems our spots, cracks and rot. His strength makes our weakness perfect.

Where we see ugliness, God sees beauty. Where we see failure, He sees possibility. Where we see flaws, He sees perfection.

But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.’” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, NIV)

Just as a pot of half-rotting tomatoes simmered over a flame was transformed into magnificent sauce, our broken, sin-filled lives refined by the fire of the Holy Spirit are transformed into glorious new creations.

That is Awesome Sauce!

Nothing But the Blood

It was a sacred space. Time and place set aside. An anointed offering.

Though I was there, I was more witness than participant. I watched and listened. I stored those holy moments as treasures in my heart. And I remember.

They came in slowly. One or two at a time, eventually filling the cinderblock room to half full. They sang, clapped and swayed to the music. Soul-filled prayers touched dark corners and broken places. Some shared an embrace or laid on a hand of encouragement. Some knelt and prayed. Tears flowed freely. Sobs of agony, shouts of affirmation, words of praise shot heavenward like rockets.

Worship in the prison is always unexpected, but last night was different. It was chaotic. It was spontaneous. It was divinely powerful. And it was incredibly personal.

“Have you way with us, Lord” they prayed. And He did.

I saw with my eyes and can testify. There is no dominion too evil, no heart too broken, no walls too impenetrable that the Spirit of God cannot overcome, penetrate and transform. 

“Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)

 Brokenness. Pain. Rage. Weakness. Unforgiveness. Insufficiency. Sin. Revealed, acknowledge and presented to the Judge.

The verdict?

“I love you,” He said.

“But look at me. Look at my life. Look what I’ve done,”

“I love you,” He said.

"But . . ."

"I love you," He said again.

All because of the blood. The blood. The blood.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Do You Get It?

Yesterday morning I was at a Bible study with some women. The topic of conversation turned to salvation: What is is? What does it mean? And how do you receive it?
The leader presented the salvation message as it appears in the Bible. Even though many of the women have been coming to this study for a year or more, some of them still have trouble letting go of the idea that "good" people go to heaven and "bad" people don't. They don't see themselves and their sin as "not that bad" in comparison with others. Certainly not in comparison to a murderer's at any rate.

"I don't get it," one woman confessed.


Having been in Haiti and the prison, I've seen stark contrasts to my own life. My conclusion is that living a safe, comfortable, suburban lifestyle might be desirable, but it is one of the greatest stumbling blocks to receiving the gospel message of Jesus. Our perceived goodness gets in the way of our "getting it."

One thing that has removed the blinders from my eyes and truly shown me the meaning of grace has been worshipping with the inmates in the prison. These guys get it. They're "bad" guys and they know it. They know they've messed up and they need help fixing their lives. They know they need forgiveness. And this knowledge allows them to passionately embrace God's gift of salvation through Jesus.

In a way I think they have it easier because their sin and brokenness is more visible. There's no escaping it. It's easier to see their need for grace.

I've heard many Christians claim they are "better" than people in prison. Well, I have met ex-convicts who burn with the passion of Jesus and whose lives are totally committed to serving Him. I met a murderer who I wanted to stand closer to just so some of the grace that poured through him would spill on to me. I have seen how the transforming power of the Holy Spirit can turn around an addict who society discarded into into a life of beauty.


The hard truth is that we are all wretched:
"There is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God." (Romans 3:11)
"All the right things we have done are like filthy pieces of cloth." (Isaiah 64:6-7)

There is no one holy, not one.
 
Our sin is every bit as offensive to God as a criminal's. It was my sin that put Jesus on the cross. And yours. And the gang member's. And the murderer's. It's a hard pill to swallow.

But, accepting this sober truth doesn't bring condemnation, it brings freedom. Freedom to see ourselves with new eyes. Freedom to accept the gift of grace that Jesus offers. Freedom to allow the Spirit of God to work in our life. "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." (John 3:17)

Are you good?

Or do you get it?

There IS Joy in Mudville

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out.

There is no joy in Mudville (aka Philadelphia) today because the mighty Ryan Howard has struck out. But unlike Casey, he didn’t even swing. He just stood there looking. Low and outside. Strike three.

And thus ended the Phillies’ run toward the National League Championship and a spot in the World Series. This team was so good that sportswriters and fans concluded victory was not only expected, it was a sure thing.

Yet, it was not to be.

I’m no baseball fan and don’t care much if the Phillies win or lose but I can’t help notice that fingers are being pointed. Heads are being hunted. And the person in the crosshairs right now is Ryan Howard. Here’s what folk are saying about him:

“Grossly overrated”
“Got what he deserved”
“Failure”
“He choked”
“He’s primarily to blame for the NLCS loss to the Giants.”

Ouch!

It makes sense that when you get paid millions of dollars to hit baseballs you better do that—especially when the stakes are so high. And when you don’t there are consequences.

Yet the fate of one man’s reputation was decided in a crucial moment. His worth and perceived value completely contingent on his performance. Hit a home run, we’ll throw you a parade. Strike out and we’ll run you out of town. It’s like this with any athlete.

“We’ll love you if…”
“We’ll cheer for you if…”
“We’ll praise you if…”

But if they fail, falter, fumble mess up or let us down—watch out! Cheers become boos. Esteem turns to disdain disdain. Adoring proclamations morph into scathing criticisms.

Oh how fickle our affections. Not just for sports figures, but for one another as well. Our actions—if not our words as well—say, “If you earn my love/affection/devotion/dedication/respect, I’ll give it to you.”

It's no wonder we have such a hard time comprehending the true meaning of grace.

Grace is God’s unmerited love for us. He offers this gift to ANYONE who accepts it, without ANY strings attached. Grace costs nothing for the recipient, but everything for the giver.

Philip Yancey says, “Grace means there is nothing we can do to make God love us more and there is nothing we can do to make Him love us less.”

Nothing. At. All.

The idea that God’s love comes to us free of charge seems to go against every fiber in our beings. We’ve been brought up in an environment of ungrace and every day we breathe its polluted aroma. Everything and everyone around us expects us to earn our favor.

Except Jesus.

Grace is illogical. It’s counterintuitive. It’s radical. And it simply doesn’t add up. That’s what makes it so amazing!

The apostle Paul says:

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God..” (Romans 5:1-2)

It doesn’t matter how often we strike out, screw up or miss the mark. In Jesus, there is NO condemnation. Ever.

That’s good news for you and me. And it’s good news for Ryan Howard, too. Something tells me he could use some loving right about now.

Decoding Grace

Since my church's new website launched this week and the class describe below is what started my redesign of it, It's appropriate that I have this devotional running at Exemplify Online. I hope you'll join me over there.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God…” Ephesians 2:8, NIV

Recently I took a class to learn the basics of HTML—the programming language that makes websites work.

To my untrained eye, HTML code looked like a mish-mash of brackets, symbols, odd words and strange spacing. I couldn’t imagine anyone would ever make sense of it, let alone me!

However, during the course the instructor broke this gibberish into understandable chunks. He “decoded” the code and amazingly I started to understand it. At first we learned to write simple commands to add things like a line or italicized text. By the end of the class, we could create a simple website.

After making one frustrating mistake after another, I learned one important fact: HTML code must be written precisely. One misspelled word, forgotten bracket or incorrect term and your idea won’t execute—at all. When it comes to coding, close isn’t good enough.

Sometimes Christianity can seem as difficult to understand and demanding as HTML. It’s easy to believe we must follow a specific list of should’s and should-not’s to make our faith “execute.” That if we correctly line up a prescribed combination of good things like prayer, Bible reading, church attendance and good deeds, and avoid a set list of bad things like gossip, slander, excess and idolatry then all will be well between us and God.

When our faith feels stuck or God seems distant, it just means we need to perfect our “faith formula” and make adjustments.

But Christianity offers one very important thing that computer programming doesn’t—grace.
Grace means our faith cannot be attained by executing a precise list of thoughts, deeds, actions and eloquent prayers. It’s a gift. Sound too simple? Ask the Pharisees. They tried to write the perfectly formatted “code” that led to God. And, the more precisely they wrote,  interpreted and executed it, the farther away from Him they got. In fact, they ended up so distant that when Jesus appeared right in front of their noses, they didn’t recognize Him at all.

Actions like prayer, worship, works and Bible reading certainly enhance our faith, but these things, done on their own, aren’t the “code” that gets us to God. When we are followers of Christ, they become an extension of our relationship with Him and not a requirement of rituals.

On the cross Jesus did the work for us. In this one eternity-changing act, God told us we don’t need a list of do’s and don’ts to make faith work. Perfection is not required. There is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace. Nothing. All He asks is that we receive this gift.  

Receive it and follow Him.

Grace...in the Most Unlikely Places

The hip young Christian singer had spent his entire academic career in Christian schools. He had a passion for Jesus that captivated the ladies in the audience. As he strummed his guitar, he told how he’d recently been invited to play for a class of first graders at a local public school. He’d debuted a work-in-progress, a bouncy tune about creation, that really connected with the kids. At the end of the song one little guy shared an insight about Jesus. (Pretty cool, especially since it was a public school.)

The singer shared how amazing it was to bring the name of Jesus to a group of kids that didn’t know Him. The ladies heaped “ooohs” and “aaahs” of praise. I sat in the audience and observed, but something about his words burned inside me.

I replayed his comment, “Kids that don’t know Jesus.” Maybe it was an innocent slip, but between the lines I heard his assumption: Kids outside of a Christian school environment don’t know Jesus.

Sometimes we assume that the four walls and sign outside determine whether Jesus resides in a place…and in the hearts of its occupants—or not. As a result, it becomes easy to identify “good” behavior from “bad” and “godly” environments from “worldly.” We mark the minefield, finding comfort and safety in this “knowledge.”

By doing this, we limit the Almighty and box Him in. We start to play God as we look down from on high, determining who needs saving, what is “too worldly” or where has God abandoned all together.

The thing is, the Creator of the Universe doesn’t abide by the boundaries we mark or the walls we erect. He will go where He will go. His grace knows no geography.

Personally, I have seen Jesus in the public schools. I have heard Him in secular music. I have encountered Him in non-believers. And I have traveled past walls topped with barbed wire and armed guards into the depths of a maximum security prison—surely a place where evil dwells. Yet, even there Jesus lives, glorious, redeeming and merciful.

Christian establishments do not hold the market on grace. In fact, sometimes the opposite is true. As Philip Yancey says in What’s So Amazing about Grace, “I experienced as much ungrace on the campus of a Bible college as I had anywhere else in life.”

I think Jesus would concur. During His ministry He didn’t spend much time inside the walls of religious institutions, in fact He often rebuked the Pharisees. “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean.” (Matthew 23:27)

Jesus went out to the people to teach and preach and heal. But, He didn’t do it out of a sense of superiority, self-righteousness or pity—He did it out of love.

As believers, we can get so caught up in ourselves and in our own way of thinking. We need to follow Jesus’ example and go into the world with love. Not because we think we’re better than, but because we know we aren’t.

And when we do, we shouldn’t be surprised to find that His love has already gone ahead to light the way. Because God’s grace truly is amazing.

We are the Body

“Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.”
(1 Corin. 12:27)

I stood at the podium holding the microphone and took a deep breath. As I looked out on the sea of expectant faces, the butterflies gathered. How in the world did I get here? When I started to speak, I sensed the guys in the audience were listening and connecting. And when I prayed, the words that came weren't my own. The Spirit of God moved in this place.

When you do the math, this scene doesn’t add up. On the one hand you have me—a white, college-educated, 40ish, suburban mom whose biggest brush with the law was a few speeding tickets. I have no history of addiction or violence and I have no “street cred” whatsoever. On the other hand you have a room full of men, mostly African American and Hispanic, many covered in tattoos, who’ve lived lives where drugs, violence, broken homes and gangs are a daily reality. And they’re all living—at least for now—behind bars, doing their time or awaiting court dates.

Yet despite the absolute incongruity of our lives, oddly it makes sense. I think my Woodside friends who joined me on this venture into prison ministry feel the same. Somehow it works. And there is absolutely no doubt God is at the center of it.

Because even though the inmates and I are from different worlds, we are the body of Christ. The connection we have through Jesus knits us together in a way that defies logic. And as strange as it sounds, I feel like the inmates accept me and that I have a purpose there.

But this isn’t what I wanted. Honestly, I wanted a “girlfriend” ministry. I wanted to connect with moms, wives and sisters with wit and wisdom. I wanted to be everyone’s best friend. I see women who do this so well and I admire it tremendously, covet it even. Yet, as much as I desire it, it’s just not who I am.

Besides, God has other plans—plans that involve the prison. He wants me to learn from these men, to worship with them, pray with them and love them. He wants to grow me in this place and lead me to a deeper understanding of grace.

But I never planned to get actively involved. I just wanted to attend the worship services as a quiet supporter. To speak in front of a group, lead prayer or do anything that involved holding a microphone were WAY off the map of my comfort zone. They’re just not things I do. Period.

Once again, God had other plans and through the urging of those on our ministry team, I’ve found myself on several occasions standing behind the podium, knees knocking, talking to or praying with the men. And I have to say, as scary as the experience is, it’s exhilarating—not because I enjoy it, but because I see the Spirit at work. Despite my shortcomings, God has proven He doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

There have been some special things happening during our worship services lately. The inmates are really participating and receiving. Lots of guys have been getting saved.

This week something really cool happened. Usually the most enthusiastic men arrive and fill up the first two rows, leaving the back rows for late comers and those just passing the time. Often there’s foolishness in the back that’s distracting to the service. This week, on their own, the “regulars” started filling the back rows first, leaving the front rows open. As the room filled up, one of the inmates even directed latecomers to open seats.

This seemingly small gesture spoke volumes about the inmates’ respect for us and most especially their respect for worship. They are serious about Jesus! Just looking at their faces, hardened by life but softened by grace is a living testimony to a God who loves us unconditionally. A God who lifts us out of the muck and the mire and sets us on the rock. Who puts a new song in our mouth. (Psalm 40)

As believers, we are the body of Christ connected to one another all the way back to Abraham. At first glance we may have little in common, but when we strip away our differences and realize we share the same heart for Jesus, we find that’s all that really matters. And what unites us is infinitely greater than what divides us.

“If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be…
If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” (1 Corin. 12:17-19, 26)

Of Superheroes and Saviors

Recently my husband and I finished one of our favorite rituals of the New Year—watching the previous season of the hit show 24 on DVD. Each winter we wait patiently for that glorious day when the mail carrier delivers the newly-released DVD in the familiar, red NetFlix envelope. At that moment our anticipation is palpable. “How will Jack Bauer save the world this time?”

For those of you unfamiliar with 24, it is simply the most exciting, adrenaline-filled, suspenseful, clever, riveting hour of TV—ever! (And this coming from a girl who prefers chick flicks, weepy dramas and foreign films.)

The gist of the show is that each season, evil forces (terrorists, double agents, Russians, corporate pirates, Columbian drug dealers, presidential assassins, etc.) try to annihilate the United States and our government. And each season, the L.A. branch of the Counter Terrorism Unit (a fictitious government agency) spends a frantic 24 hours trying to stop them. At the heart of it all is CTU uber-agent, Jack Bauer who single-handedly foils the plots and saves the day!

Season after season we watch in awe as Jack Bauer selflessly serves his country to rescue it. He takes incredible risks to save lives. He bucks protocol to do the right thing. He’s been shot at, imprisoned, tortured and left for dead. Many times he’s willingly offered to lay down his life for another. There seems to be no limit to what he will endure or do to thwart evil and see good prevail. Plus, he does it all without eating, sleeping or ever losing the charge on his cell phone! There is no doubt that Jack Bauer is a modern-day superhero. A white knight in a shining armored SUV filled with high-tech weapons and gadgets.

If we could paint a picture of what a savior would look like, we might come up with someone who looks a lot like Jack Bauer.

Maybe this is the kind of messiah the Jewish people were awaiting when Jesus arrived on the scene. Many expected a warrior king who would overthrow the government, toss out the bad guys and set up a glorious Jewish kingdom on Earth.

But instead appeared a humble carpenter from unimpressive parents. A teacher who fought evil with swords of truth. A healer who offered restoration instead of condemnation. A friend who loved the unlovable. A king who became a servant. A lamb who willingly accepted the hate that tore his flesh. And a savior who bore the agonizing punishment that we all deserve.

And He did it for us. “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corin. 5:21)

How amazing is it, that on the cross—tortured, humiliated, ridiculed, bleeding and deserted—Jesus, calls out to God on behalf of his killers, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

Where we would reasonably expect (and even want) revenge, Jesus offers something no superhero ever will: mercy and forgiveness—to everyone, even the “bad guys.”

To our way of thinking, grace doesn’t make sense. But Jesus didn’t die just for the sins of the really bad guys; he died for the sins of each of us. NONE of us, on our own efforts, are good enough to bridge the gap of sin that separates us from God. We are the bad guys.

What doesn’t make sense about grace is that in place of what we do deserve—death, Jesus’ amazing sacrifice gives us what we don’t deserve—eternal life. All for the price of acceptance and repentance.

This Easter I pray that you lay your sins at the foot of the cross and accept Jesus’ gift of grace. He died not to condemn you, but to save you. He did this because He loves YOU.

“For God so loved [your name here] that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

Lost and Found

About three and a half weeks ago I lost my cell phone. Now to some people this would be a major catastrophe akin to global warming, but for me it wasn’t a huge deal. Why? First, because I use my cell phone for my convenience and not as a way to be accessible 24/7 (Shocking isn’t it?!). And second, I tend to “misplace” things—valuable things like my purse, my wallet…and my cell phone. But, sooner or later they eventually turn up. Often because said lost object was found and returned by a Good Samaritan. (Like the time someone turned in my wallet found in a shopping cart in the grocery store parking lot!) I am living proof that good, kind people are not the exception.

So, for me, “losing” my phone was SOP (standard operating procedure). I knew it would turn up eventually.

When I realized my phone was missing, I checked its most likely locations. No luck. I looked a little harder. Still no luck. About a week or so later, I extended the search. I checked the car (again), my purse (for the tenth time), coat pockets, the laundry, under my bed (although I did find a book I’ve been looking for!), counters, the laundry room, my desk. I even offered my kids reward money if they found it. Nothing! I reconstructed where I had been and called those places. Nope. No one found it. “Hmmm?” This was odd, even in my unusual world of misplaced objects. I just knew it had to be somewhere.

But after three weeks, the inconvenience of being without a phone finally got the better of me. Last Friday I broke down and ordered a new phone. Fortunately my contract was up and the phone was free*. In a few days a new, pink cell phone with all of the latest technology was promised to my doorstep.

Getting ready for church on Sunday, I put on my cute lime green suede blazer (one that I don’t wear very often). As soon as I took it off the hanger, I knew. “Aha! I found it!” I joyfully shouted. Yep, the cell phone was in the pocket of the blazer (although I never put things in the pocket of this jacket! And I don’t even remember wearing it!)

Patience it turns out would have been a virtue.

Isn’t finding God in our lives like that sometimes? We know He must be there, but we just can’t find Him. Our search is blocked by many things—our schedules, cynicism, intellect, suffering, doubts, fears and feelings. The brokenness we hold on to—even our own efforts. So we look for God in all of the likely places and He remains elusive. And sometimes we go our own way, looking for a replacement. Patience is hard.

But often when our hearts are still and our thoughts are elsewhere, God has a way of showing Himself to us in the most unlikely and unexpected places. And in this moment we joyfully shout, “Aha! I found Him!”

"Be still, and know that I am God…” --Psalms 46:10

*Note: Except for grace, nothing in life is really free. Especially “free” cell phones!
Note: In an amazing coincidence, above referenced cute, pink cell phone was delivered by FedEx exactly twelve minutes ago!