The Blessed Burden of Love

A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander, and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross. Mark 15:21

Today is a special day on the Christian Church’s calendar...Good Friday. It is a day that we remember the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and reflect on the cost of salvation. Christians throughout the world will gather at different services, and in different ways, to commemorate the life and death of Jesus Christ; and while the paths may be different for each church, the destination remains the same—reflecting on the love of God displayed some two-thousand years ago on that “Old Rugged Cross”.

My day will be spent participating in our community’s “Cross Walk” (an event where we remember the walk of Christ as he proceeded to Golgotha) and our own church’s Good Friday services later this evening. I have been asked to bring one of the devotions for our community’s Cross Walk, and have been assigned the story of Simon the Cyrenian carrying the cross of Jesus. As I read over this bit of the story of the crucifixion my mind went back to Jesus’ words in Luke: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me (Luke 9:23)”. For years I have taught, and was taught myself, that the “cross” we carry are the burdens we must bear as followers of Christ: persecution, hardships, etc. However, as I looked over this scripture this morning I began to really think about the cross and the great “burden” that Christ carried that day...and that we are called as his followers to bear ourselves. What was Christ “burden”? It was more than just the persecution and hate...Jesus himself would state that these were to be expected facets of the life of a follower of his. No, I believe the burden Christ carried on his back...the cross that he carried, and we are called to carry—is love.

I know that seems counterintuitive, how can love be a burden, but hear me out. Think about love, true love, it requires actions. Putting another’s needs above our own, seeking out their good above our own; it’s unconditional and unmerited. It is displayed, Christ would say, in no greater way than this: that a man would give his life for his brother (John 15:13). What is a burden if it’s not something that demands your very life? 

Love is the burden that we are called to bear...the blessed burden that we bear with joy, just as Christ did on that fateful day. As horrific a day as Christ’s crucifixion was...love was there, and the plan from eternity has always been love. Because God so loved the world, he sent his only son (John 3:16). God demonstrated his love to us, that while we were still sinners, Jesus died for us (Romans 5:8). Over and over we see the message of the bible...God’s love for us, poured out and displayed in the cross. Love was his cross, and love is why he was hated, beaten, cursed, shamed, and killed...love.

This, too, is the cross we bear, his cross, the cross of love—loving God completely, ourselves correctly, and others compassionately; the blessed burden of love.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

John 15:13

"Here, there be Giants!"

There’s this story in the bible about a time when the people of Israel completely missed out on the promises of God due to their unbelief. The people of Israel were coming out of over four-hundred years of bondage in Egypt. God has spoken through his prophet and leader Moses, and through “many signs and wonders” he has delivered them out of the hands of the Egyptians. Through their journey God continually shows up in mighty miracles: they crossed over the Red Sea, fed by manna from heaven, water from rocks, healings, in a pillar of cloud in the day and a pillar of fire by night, and even coming to dwell among them in his Shekinah glory in the Tabernacle (if you don’t believe me, just watch the movie). God’s presence was continually visible to these people...but they never seemed to completely “get it”. Their journey, while marked with miracles of God’s glory, was also marked with their continual griping. Throughout the story the people are continually speaking badly about their situation, so much so that scholars refer to them as the “murmuring generation”.  Nothing was ever good enough, and no promise that God ever made was bigger than their perception of their problems.

After eleven months of traveling the people of Israel arrive at the “Promised Land”. We call it the Promised Land because it had been “promised” by God, hundreds of years earlier to Abraham (who is the ‘father’ of the Israelites). This is it, their moment of triumph. They are at the cusp of realizing all of their dreams, not only of their generation—but countless generations prior. As they arrive at the outskirts of the land they decide to send in twelve spies (one from each of the twelve tribes that make up the people of Israel) for a little recon mission. The twelve spies return and give their report—the land is good, just as God has said (shock!)...”flowing with milk and honey” (sounds sticky!) However, the spies also noted something else in the land...people. Not just any people, warriors, a people that looked “like giants”, and fortified cities...major obstacles! “Ahhh! Hide your wife, hide your kids! (sorry I couldn’t resist). Not all the spies are upset at the obstacles. There are two dissenters, the minority-report we could call them. A couple of younger guys, Caleb and Joshua, (young is relative here, probably in early 40s late 30s) stand up and give a different account. They give the same facts, the land is everything they had ever dreamed...and yes there are some pretty bad dudes there and some gnarly fortified cities, but...and this is a big but (like Sir Mix-a-Lot type), they are quick to remind the people that while all of the problems they see are real, so are the promises of God. You see, they had the same facts, but they also had faith. Caleb proclaims to the people, “...the Lord is with us; do not fear them.” Caleb remembered the promises of God, the same ones that had been heard by all of the tribes—God is “giving this land to us.” Caleb’s pleas go unheard, the people refuse to see God’s promises to be bigger than their problems...and they rebel against God. God’s had enough of this generation of grumblers and he proclaims that none of their generation, save Joshua and Caleb, will ever set foot into the Promised Land—they are doomed to wander in the wilderness until every one of them has died. Their refusal to recognize the promises of God...and the power of the God who made these promises, led to their missing of the promise altogether. In short, they allowed perceived problems to be bigger than the power of God’s promise (like what I did there with the ‘p’ thing...see I am a Baptist!)

While this story took place thousands of years ago...it takes place daily in the lives of God’s people today. Too often we give undeserved power to problems...to “giants” that are but gnats in contrast to the power of God. When we do this place our problems above God. Through our actions we are saying to God, “you’re not big enough...you can’t do it”. What we need to be focused on, however, are not the problems...but the promise, better yet...the voice that makes the promise. So as you seek to live out the commands of God (loving God completely, yourself correctly and others compassionately) you will no doubt find obstacles...but never fear, obstacles can quickly become opportunities to glorify God, when seen through the eyes of faith.

A Mile High and an Inch Deep

I love the beach. That seems like an odd proclamation coming from a kid who grew up spending every summer in the foothills of North Carolina, as well as just about every other weekend on the Appalachian Trail and in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, yet it’s true. I never told my dad that, it probably would’ve broken his heart...or at least made him frown a little, but it’s true, I love the beach. It seems like there are object lessons and metaphors for life around every turn. The changing of the tides reminds us that every day, like the tides, can bring us something new. The unseen dangers of the beautiful ocean remind us of the unseen dangers of life, and so-on, and so-on. I’m sure that you could find metaphors and object lessons in the mountains, but the truth is after a while you just begin to take for granted as common place and mundane things that you see every day...see there’s a life lesson in the mountains. Maybe that’s where my infatuation with the beach lays; it’s in the excitement of the new and the different. Maybe people at the beach feel the same way about the mountains as I do about their home? Whatever the reason, I still love the beach...just don’t tell my dad.

This year’s “great epiphany” came from my seven year old (7 ¾ if you ask her) daughter, Grace. Grace decided this year she wanted to build a deep pool that she could play in. In her typical fashion, this soon became a contest...she wanted to see who could make the deepest pool. We both started working and about half way through our individual endeavors she advised me of her strategy, which was pretty ingenious to be honest with you. “Dad”, she said. “I’ve got it figured out, you don’t have to dig too deep, you can just build up high walls and it makes your pool look deeper!” Eureka! What a novel approach and you know what it really does work. By building up the sides of the pool we were able to make our pool appear deeper with much less effort and the time required in building a “truly” deep pool. Now I’m sure this approach may seem elementary to you, but for us it was revolutionary, but as the day went on and I surveyed our work as the tide came in I noticed a tragic flaw in our plan. You see from the outside looking in the pool looked deep. The high walls had created the illusion of depth. However, as the tide came in and the ocean washed over the wall it was very evident that the “pool” was not as deep as it appeared—it was in fact just a few short inches below the “sea-level”. The pool was easily filled with the sand of the walls and our grand tidal pool was now nothing more than a small dip in the sandy beach.

As I watched our work being destroyed my mind wondered on “spiritual” things. I couldn’t help but to compare Grace’s strategy with the strategy of so many Christians and churches today. We have forgone a true deeper knowledge and relationship with God and created an illusion of depth by building up “walls” of religious works and tradition. Too often we measure our relationship with God by the yard-stick of our works, the things that we do. “Look how close my relationship with God is—see all of the things that I do.” We serve on every committee imaginable and make sure there’s not an event on the church calendar that we miss—sometimes to the detriment of ourselves and our family. We measure ourselves by our “tradition” and the things that we “do”. We must have a certain type of service, in a certain type of way. We build up on the same things year after year, never questioning their value or their purpose. We never stop to see how what we are doing fits into God’s purposes; we just keep on stacking them one on top of the other, keeping the illusion alive that we are getting deeper and deeper in our relationship with God...when the opposite is the true.

We’re not alone in this thinking. The Israelites spent a lot of time building up walls of tradition and works trying to bring depth to their relationship. In the book of Isaiah we see God’s answer to works and tradition without true depth—without a true relationship with God. 

“What are your multiplied sacrifices to Me?” says the Lord. “I have had enough of burnt offerings...bring your worthless offerings no longer...I hate your new moon festivals and your appointed feasts, they have become a burden to Me (Isaiah 1:11-14).”

God wasn’t condemning the sacrificial system which He Himself had established; He was condemning the religious pretense that had come to be so prevalent in all that the Israelites did. The depth of their sacrifices was lacking—they did the acts out of religious duty and not from a contrite heart. Religion is man’s attempt to reach up to God, to try and impress Him with what we can do, so maybe He will pay attention to us. The Gospel teaches us that God came down to man, because there was no other way to establish a relationship with us.

It’s not that all traditions and works are evil and without weight. James reminds us that our faith is evidenced by our works (James 2:17), but these works are not done to obtain faith or grace, but because of our faith and God’s grace. As we leave the pretense of religion and embrace the truth of the gospel we begin to add depth to our lives and our relationship with our Creator. It’s through the depth of our relationship with Him and the working out of His grace in our lives that we are able to complete good works as evidence to our faith. The depths that we reach in our relationship of God will not be easily washed away by the waves of tragedy and circumstances in our lives. The waves and trials of life will simply reveal to us, and others, the true depth of our love for God and our understanding of His grace.

Just a Little Further

This is a copy of a note that I posted on my Facebook page two years ago. As the "note" says, it is a direct copy from my journal the day I found out his cancer was terminal. Sunday, March 25th will be the three year anniversary of my dad's passing-I still miss him.

This was taken from my Journal dated 2-2-09 the day that we found out my dad’s cancer was terminal.

When I was younger I spent a great deal more time with my dad than I do now, and although we do not spend as much time together as we did in those days when I was younger, I like to think our visits now are of greater quality. Every moment we have together now is spent talking of the Lord, the work He is doing in our lives, and how He uses each of us to reach others. There are not many other people who have fanned so vigorously the flames of the Holy Spirit in my life than my dad. Our discussions over the past several years have helped shape my pastoral and teaching styles as well as lead to my own personal growth.

When I look back on our time together and all of our many adventures (and sometimes misadventures) the greatest memories are always of camping and hiking. Anyone who has ever back-packed with my dad knows that he is notorious for stretching the truth when it comes to distance. The man, it always seemed, had no concept of distance or sometimes time. If you were to ever ask him—after what seemed like hours of walking—‘how much further?’, he would always respond with one of several answers: ‘Just over this hill’, ‘one more turn’, the always popular and vague ‘maybe another ½ mile or so’, or my personal catch all favorite ‘just a little further.’ ‘How much further?’ I would ask. ‘Just a little further son, just a little further.’

As I look back on our hiking adventures—through the lens of time—and the understanding that only comes from being a parent, I think maybe he wasn’t stretching the truth. To him the end of our time together was always too close—always just around the turn or just over the next hill, the truth was he never wanted our time to end. Maybe neither of us were every ready for our hikes to be over. An awkward ‘man-hug’ the quick ‘love you’ and the separation for another week or two—or maybe three. You see I think when we were apart—when I wasn’t there, that was the longest trip for him. At those times the distance seemed unbearable—days felt like weeks and hours felt like days; until once again we found ourselves on a familiar trail—and me asking ‘How much further dad?’ From up ahead the answer would come back ‘Just a little further son—just a little further.’

I miss the walks with my dad—but I will always treasure the lessons that I learned from him: that time with your children and those you love is precious. I also take comfort in our recent talks—of my spiritual growth and his role in my discipleship. I know that it is just a little further now, maybe around this hill—or the next and we will be together again and this time our walk will never end.

Christmas Chaos

OK, so Sunday's sermon was called Christmas Chaos--Where we see Chaos God sees Christmas--great subject for this time of year with all the "stuff" that dominates our lives. Christmas shopping, parties, school & church plays, family events...you know chaos! The focus verse for the sermon was Romans 8:28, And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him..., we had some good laughs about the things that happen during this time of year and an earlier experience that I had this week with our family’s Christmas tree as well as the thought that every tree that I’ve put up this year appears to have a slight lean to it (to the right of course). Then, that evening, we had our children’s Christmas program, For the Glory of the King, a great production by our children’s choir and Chris and Shannon Shuford (and all the people that made the production possible). During the program a certain little shepherd (*cough* Cade Marlowe *cough*) managed to run into the church’s Christmas tree causing it to shake back and forth (and my heart to skip a beat). The tree would stop shaking and remain in its upright (if not somewhat leaning) position, and after the laughter died down, the show would indeed go on—all in all, a great time of worship and fellowship at Tuckaseege.

 Fast forward to 3:55AM this morning, there's a crash from downstairs in the Marlowe houses hold. Like any normal person, I grab the .45 and toss Emily (my lovely wife) her .38—just in case whatever/whoever it is makes it past me (you should note here that the Marlowe's do not mess around). I go downstairs ready to extend the love of God to someone and what do I find? An 8ft tree lying on the ground, water, lights and broken ornaments everywhere—you know chaos. I would have preferred to have shot something and to be honest if it wasn’t for the extra clean up and the sure to follow discussions with local law enforcement, I probably would’ve shot the tree. Em and I now work in the wee hours of the morning spending quality time together, cleaning up broken glass (it's surprising how compact 50 or so ornaments become when crushed). Once the house is back in some order (very relative term here) Em returns to bed to try and catch a quick nap and I begin my day by reading a daily devotional book (a neat little book that was a gift to us from dear friends). As I read through the devotional, Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence by Sarah Young, a great 365 day devotional written as if Jesus is speaking to you, I am once again amazed at the uncanny timing of God. Putting all of our morning “festivities” into perspective as well as the sermon I had just preached the day before, here is what the devotional entry was for December 12^th:

“I AM TAKING CARE OF YOU. Feel the warmth and security of being enveloped in My loving Presence. Every detail of your life is under My control. Moreover, everything fits into a pattern for good, to those who love Me and are called according to My design and purpose.

Because the world is in an abnormal, fallen condition, people tend to think that chance governs the universe. Events may seem to occur randomly, with little or no meaning. People who view the world this way have overlooked one basic fact: the limitations of human understanding. What you know of the world you inhabit is only the tip of the iceberg. Submerged beneath the surface of the visible world are mysteries too vast for you to comprehend. If you could only see how close I am to you and how constantly I work on your behalf, you would never again doubt that I am wonderfully caring for you. This is why you must live by faith, not by sight; trusting in My mysterious, majestic Presence.      (Jesus Calling, Sarah Young, p.363)

So there it is, my morning in a little under seven hundred words. I hope that my family’s little bit of Christmas Chaos brings a smile to your face—and I hope that you have the opportunity to see the true story of Christmas even through all of the chaos—and to know that God has a plan and a purpose for your life...even in the chaos.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all!

The One You Don’t See

“It’s not the gator that you see that you have to worry about, it’s the ones you don’t that you need to be worried about.”

 

I don’t have any idea where that thought came from. My only guess is that it sublimely made its way into my mind during one of the many “Swamp People” marathons that I’ve watched on the History Channel. It just sounds like something that Troy would say while surveying the muddy waters of the Atchafalaya River Basin swamp, the sun setting behind him and some great music playing in the background as the scene slowly fades to black…what a great show! However, or whenever, the thought originally came into my subconscious (I say this, because there is no way I could/would come up with anything like this on my own) it made itself known this past week as I went for stroll around the subdivision where my parents have a beach house. You see the area around the subdivision (like most of coastal Carolina) is riddled with swamps and marshes. It is in theses swamps and marshes that the local American Alligator makes its home. So as I meandered around the subdivision I paid careful attention to the sides of the road and the marshes, with that singular thought repeating itself in my head, reminding me to be ever vigilant. 

 

*(a note of disclaimer, this is the part of the blog where thoughts get deep—and another note, I never saw an alligator…sorry.) 

I must be completely honest; I didn’t just take off for a nice quite walk as part of my everyday physical routine, or even to have a deeper more spiritual encounter. No, this was one of those walks you take as a parent—when everything is getting crazy and you may on the verge of losing your cool (yes, this happens to pastors too—hello, normal dude here!). It was a cooling off walk, a step back and take a deep breath kind of walk, maybe you’re a better person than me and you’ve never had to have one of these, or maybe you’ve felt the consequences of not taking the walk and wish you had—whatever your position, this is where I was and what I was doing. As I walked (and thought about alligators) I started to really think about things. I was mad and it wasn’t really at anything that had just transpired, I was just angry and I began to really unpack my anger and try to find a genesis for it. As I rolled through the many issues that I have going on (I’m sure if you’re in some sort of management possession you can really relate to that) I began to see my problems as alligators, and really started to think about the alligator/problem that I wasn’t able to see. This was going to be the one that gets me, or judging by the way I was feeling—the one that had already got me.

This is when it occurred to me, the one place that I wasn’t looking as I laid out my laundry list of problems and issues was in the mirror. Maybe my biggest problem wasn’t everyone else, maybe it was me. I began to think about different situations, what remained the same? Me. I was the one common denominator. Now at this time I was reminded of another saying, “everyone else is crazy, and I’m the one on medication!” But I couldn’t shake the thought, what if my biggest problem was me—well not really me, but my misguided focus. It’s very easy in life, especially in the ministry, to spend the majority of your time pouring into other people and trying to fix everyone else’s problems to the point that you allow no time for healing or refreshing for yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I have my quite time and spend my time in prayer and reflection, and I love what I do, counting it a privilege to serve as I do—but something was missing.

I had allowed my relationship with God to erode and grow cold. My “quite” time had become just a process, a mechanical thing that I did…mere religion. There was no true seeking Him out and letting Him work in me. My focus had been moved from what should have been the most important part of my life, my personal relationship with God. It was not from God’s side, it was me. I had become apathetic or maybe just complacent in my approach to a personal time with God. This gross oversight on my part had not only affected me, but had crept into other parts of my life, my relationship with my wife, my kids, and was overflowing into how I saw everything. None of this means that my other alligator/problems weren’t real and didn’t need to be addressed, but what had happened was that the one that I didn’t see, the erosion of my personal fellowship with my Creator, was the one that snuck up and took a big bite out of me.

Everything that I am, partner, parent, pastor is shaped by what happens to me as a person. In life we have the tendency to get our priorities out of order. I (we) must be very aware of my (our) priorities and to keep them in their proper order. You may say to me, “but shouldn’t the needs of my wife and my kids come before my own?” and I would agree—but not before your personal relationship with God. Your personal relationship with God will trickle down into every other aspect of your life and shape the way you handle everything from your partner, to your kids, to your profession. If you are not careful you will allow other things to take away from your personal time with God, and as your personal relationship with God grows cold, you will find that it won’t take long until the other priorities begin to be affected. Then the next thing you know, you’re walking around a subdivision looking out for alligators trying to figure out how you got there, and where everything went wrong. Never realizing that it was the alligator you didn’t see that ended up getting you.