I can’t help but think of that question this week as the media crescendos around the death of Michael Jackson. A recent article headline in USA Today asked the question, “Is mourning Jackson like idolizing the golden calf?” Another article suggested that 10’s of thousands of people would come to a memorial service, potentially the largest celebrity funeral ever. I don’t have anything against Michael Jackson. I was never a huge fan, never figured out the moon walk, and always felt bad for a man who seemed to be on this strange journey of running from something and always striving to re-create himself.
But here are my questions: What was it in Michael — or what is it in us — that draws forth that kind of worship? What model of success causes us to say, “they made it, or even I wish I could be like that.” It’s not just Michael, I could wrap that question around the way many other people grap our hearts in such a way that we want to be like them.
I was talking to a young pastor last week — struggling in his job, struggling to make it financially. I know that he is a quality guy who loves God and has touched the hearts of a number of people and yet I listened to him talk of a peer who is a salesmen making a six figure income. He spoke of him with with the “he-has-arrived-and-is-a-success” language. Almost wishing he could be more like him.
What is it that other people have that we want? Sometimes it’s the money. Sometimes it’s the influence. Sometimes it’s talent. Sometimes it’s simply being known. Perhaps sometimes its even the ability to make a difference in the world.
I don’t know. But it seems like a task critical to life is the determination of what matters most and the seeking out of people who embody that value, or at least are on the journey that is being shaped by that value. For example, do we get inspired by the stories of the poor boy who got rich, or of the rich man who became poor? Do we value money for the difference it can make for others in the world or the security it can give me in my world? Do I value being well known or being worth knowing? Do I seek God’s calling on my life or do I live for the weekend?
Last week — in our sermon series on James, God took a crack at deconstructing my world-view of who matters most in the world. James laid out this question, “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the Kingdom which he promised to those who love him.”
Last night was the last night for our sports camp. They had a great week, over a hundred kids, over fifty volunteers — even a few Penn State football players. Lynn and I went to the closing program, it was great watching the kids dance, watching Dan Saxton and team mc, listening to Chris Heinz sing. I must say that I miss not having a child young enough to go, but I love watching my kids grow.
The last week or so in our LifeJournal reading we’ve been reading through the New Testament book of Titus. Paul is writing to his young friend Titus and he starts the letter with these words, “I am writing to Titus, my true son in the faith that we share.” Those words grab me. Of all the dreams that I have in my heart, dreams of the scope of Calvary’s influence in the city and with the next generation, dreams of being a part of the next major move of God, dreams of writing a book, dreams of partnering with local leaders to make a difference in places like Myanmar, Rwanda and the Dominican Republic, dreams of playing professional football — well okay that’s a past dream.
But of all the dreams that God has put on my heart the one that matters most is that I want to see my kids be true sons and daughters in the faith that we share. I want my kids to love God with all their hearts and follow Jesus with courage, wisdom and generosity. There are few things I have loved more than watching God at work in my kid’s lives, watching them grow up in Christ over the years. They are good kids — l’m blessed to be their dad.
So this video — isn’t of my kids and it didn’t happen at sports camp — but I love it anyway and it reminded me of a couple of past moments I’ve shared with my kids. So watch it and enjoy!
You may have heard of the teenage girl who remarkably survived a plane crash off the Comoros Islands. Bahia Bakari is 13, she was on the plane with her mother, on their way to visit relatives. 153 on the plane — 152 assumed dead — 1 survival. She was ejected from the plane, landed in the water, managed to hang onto a piece of something, and escaped with a fractured collarbone and a few cuts to her face.
The head of the rescue team in the Comoros talked about her survival against astonishing odds. “It is truly, truly, miraculous,” said Ibrahim Abdoulazeb. “The young girl can barely swim.” Kasim Bakeri — her father — said, “She is a very, very shy girl. I would never have thought she would have survived like this. I can’t say that it’s a miracle, but I can say that it is God’s will,” he said.
I’m always unsure what to do with a comment like that. I’m sure I would make the same comment if I was her father… and I’m sure that I would struggle with that comment if my daughter was one of the 152. Of course this is a theological question which deals with the nature of God’s sovereignty and the pervasiveness of evil. But it is also a pastoral, relational, meaning of life kind of question.
I don’t feel compelled to understand the full depths of the mystery of why crap happens — why bad things happen to good people.. or for that matter why good things happen to bad people. But I will say that life is a gift and every day that we are given should be lived with the sense of God’s calling us into life — his will. And for the Christian, death is a defeated enemy that seeks to steal joy but in the end is nothing more than a doorway to more life.
Bahia is in my prayers today, that she will know and follow God’s call and find the life that He offers.
Nine years ago, Lynn and I had the opportunity to go to Israel. I can still picture many of the scenes in my mind — Palm Sunday in Jerusalem, possible sites of the place where Jesus hung on a cross and the tomb in which resurrection took place, walking along the Sea of Galilee, sitting on the hillside where Jesus may have given his Sermon on the Mount, floating in the dead sea, singing at a church near the pool of Bethesda, and the list goes on and on.
Many of them caught my heart, many of them were just interesting, but the site that surprised Lynn and I both with emotion was the Church of the Nativity. This small church outside Bethlehem marks the assumed birthplace of Jesus. Near the back of the church you will find an altar, behind the altar you will find a cave. Near the back of the cave, if you get on your hands and knees you can touch to touch a star enlaid in the floor marking the place of Christ’s birth…
I don’t know — when I touched the star — I just had this sense of entering the story and coming into God’s presence. But here’s the deal, you can’t come into God’s presence standing. You’ll bump your head. And you don’t find your way into the story unless you get on your knees. We don’t get to know God without prayer and we don’t really dive deep into prayer without humble dependence.
We talked about that some last week at Calvary — James 2:1-5 “The Untraveled Path to God.” Click sermon if you would like to listen online.
I spent some time last night watching the NBA draft. Most basketball experts consider it one of the worst drafts in recent years, but my team — the Minnesota Timberwolves — had four drafts in the first round, so I watched. As I watched, I was thinking about the whole “choosing” thing. It was interesting watching those who were chosen later than expected. Not an easy thing, we all want to be someone’s chosen, right?
It was everybody’s elementary school nightmare, unless you were Blake, Hasheem, and Ricky - the kind of people that everyone wanted to choose. I’m talking about picking teams. Two people would stand out in front - usually two who never needed to worry about being the last ones chosen - and they would pick from the group, one after another. When the finger was pointed at you, it meant that you belonged. It meant someone thought you were good enough to be on the team. If you were on of the first chosen, it meant you were good, a winner. If the pointing was nearing an end and you were still standing in the unchosen group, it meant that you were only going to be picked because you had to be picked - everybody gets to play in elementary school.
So I’ve been pondering all week these words from James chapter 2, “Has not God chosen the poor of the world to be rich in faith, heirs of the Kingdom, and lovers of God?” James intends it to be a rhetorical question with the assumed answer, “yes.” All our lives we’ve been trying to get chosen for our
riches, rich in friends, rich in talents and abilities, rich in finances or opportunities. What if God choose on the basis of our poverty? That would take a massive recalculation of our path, wouldn’t it?
If God has chosen the poor, and I’m not poor, what do I do then?
the golden calf?” Another article suggested that 10’s of thousands of people would come to a memorial service, potentially the largest celebrity funeral ever. I don’t have anything against Michael Jackson. I was never a huge fan, never figured out the moon walk, and always felt bad for a man who seemed to be on this strange journey of running from something and always striving to re-create himself.
