Zechariah & Me

There is one topic I never get tired of and always find interesting - me. I could talk about many topics, as long as I could relate it back to me. I am interested in many things, but ultimately, I want to know how something is going to affect me.


Which is probably why I related so well to the story of Zechariah this Christmas.

When the angel Gabriel announced Zechariah and Elizabeth would be parents, Zechariah’s response in different translations of Luke 1:18 sounded like it was coming from me, myself and I.

• NIV: “How can I be sure of this?”
• NASB: “How will I know this for certain?”
• The Message: “Do you expect me to believe this?”

No problem determining where his focus was at that moment, even though he is described as upright in the sight of God before Gabriel arrives (Luke 1:6).

By comparison, Mary’s response to an almost identical situation, with Gabriel again declaring she would be a parent despite a seemingly impossible situation, differs dramatically. Where is the focus of her responses in the translations of Luke 1:34?

• NIV: “How will this be?”
• NASB: “How can this be?”
• The Message: “But how?”

Both Zechariah and Mary were asking questions to “test the spirits” (1 John 4:1). But which response do you think God is after, since only one of them ended up mute until the birth of their child?

And in the coming year, which way will you respond when the Lord announces your next assignment for Him? As Zechariah found out, if you focus on yourself, it just shows your ignorance toward the power of God, sets yourself up as an idol, and leaves you a little more isolated from the people He expects us to serve.

But enough about you. I’ve got something much more inter – Sorry. Still need some work in that area.

Connections

My wife helped coach our friend Julie through the birth of her son, and Julie promised she would be there to help coach my wife a few months later when our baby was due. One of Julie’s favorite phrases is the exclamation “Holy Buckets!” as in “Holy buckets, it’s cold outside.” With three kids of her own, she uses the phrase liberally when she could be saying something much, much stronger and more colorful.


When our daughter arrived abruptly and unexpectedly six weeks early, we rushed to the nearest neonatal intensive care unit, an hour and a half drive away. Within the first 30 minutes of our tiny daughter’s new life, as the nurse and I were looking at her in her little incubator, the nurse said “Holy buckets is she doing good.”

And just like that, Julie was there, just as she had promised. During a very tense, emotional time, it put me at ease for a moment because up popped an unexpected, yet very much welcome, connection to a friend.

Simple reminders of other people in our lives, both past and present, are popping up all the time, if you notice. Certain songs. Particular movies. Uttered phrases. Unearthed pictures. And it never seems to be just one isolated reminder. After the initial trigger, typically other reminders cascade one after the other after the other. Then after recognizing these reminders, don’t you always get a surprise call from that person or meet them, seemingly by chance, in line at the store? “Hey! I’ve been thinking of you lately.” The reminders seem like some pretty strong coincidences.

So what is going on?

We all share a common connection, and his name is Jesus. He’s in all of us, and through Him we are all connected. He said “You are in me, and I am in you” (John 12:26). So when the thoughts of someone start popping into your head, who do you think is putting them there? Jesus reminds you of a particular person at a particular time for a reason. His reason. Whatever that may be.

So reach out. Call them. Pray for them. And, holy buckets, remember He might be reminding them of you someday, just when He knows you need the help too.

Richard

My neighbor Richard is crazy. Nice enough guy, just certifiably crazy. I’m not sure what else to call someone who enjoys backpacking for a month at a time. In some of the most remote wilderness in Montana. During the winter. As a backcountry adventure photographer, Richard takes some amazing photos of winter scenes rarely, if ever, viewed by anyone (http://www.richardlaynephoto.com/). The places he goes would be difficult to get to during the summer months. But they can be downright dangerous and precarious in the winter due to dwindling food supplies, avalanches, plummeting temperatures, wind, frostbite, gear failure, and on and on. But Richard loves it, and has for a long time.


He wrote a very rough draft of a book about crisscrossing the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in the winter to go with his pictures, and allowed me to review and comment on it. During his journey, he faced several death-may-be-imminent kinds of trouble. In these situations, he verbally calls out to God about his predicament. Not always using the most humble and nicest words, he’d often speak to God like more of an accusation, followed by a plea for help. And shortly after, his situation improves each time. Yet, Richard told me later he doesn’t ask God for help unless he’s stuck on the side of a mountain somewhere.

As I thought about it later, I wondered, had God instilled this drive in Richard to be in the wilderness, just so He could reveal himself to Richard when He had his undivided attention? Had God made Richard go into the wilderness to help him realize who he truly needed to rely on?

Why not. Before He walked on water, “Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsaida” (Mark 6:45 – my emphasis). In the evening after they had set off, Jesus watched them strain and struggle against the wind and waves on their own. Later, during the night, He walked out to them on the water (Mark 6:47-48).

The storm continued to rage when Peter decided to do something crazy, and walked into a little trouble. It wasn’t until Peter called for help that Jesus reached out His hand to him and kept him from drowning (Matthew 14:31). Which means Jesus had been standing within arm’s reach of Peter. And He has probably been standing right next to Richard all this time, answering when he calls for help, because the only time Richard asks is out in the wilderness, several days removed from anywhere or anyone else.

And The Lord is standing right next to us, ready to help when we ask, too. The question is, how far are we making Him go with us before we ask?

Granny's Bra

Heads turned when my grandmother walked in the room for breakfast. Or so I was told. Decades would pass before I was born. My father and his brother were young teenage punks at this particular time. And being young teenage punks, they kept needling their parents. Smart alecks, sneaky, and scantily clad for breakfast. Their breakfast attire consisted of boxer shorts and undershirts.


Showing up for breakfast without being fully dressed and ready for the day grated on their parents. It was their father who pleasantly asked the boys to not come into the kitchen in their underwear. They continued showing up in their underwear. Their father strongly urged the boys to get ready first, then come down for breakfast. They continued showing up in their underwear. Their father passionately implored the boys to let their underwear live up to its name. They continued showing up with their underwear as their outerwear.

Nothing worked. Nothing, at least, until my grandmother arrived late for breakfast that morning. She strode into the room and went about her normal routine. Yet, instead of hearing the usual clinking silverware, rustling newspapers and discussions about the day ahead, she moved around in thick silence. The boys and her husband stared at her. I’m sure one of them froze with a fork halfway up to an open mouth. She eventually came to the head of the table and faced them all . . .

In her bra.

My grandfather reportedly erupted like Vesuvius, chasing the boys and my grandmother out of the kitchen with a high volume, red-faced berating. Everyone showed up for breakfast fully clothed forever more.

At the end of 1 Corinthians 4, Paul vents about the arrogance of some of the church members, and the trouble it is causing. He challenges them, and warns them that he is coming to find out if they are all just talk, or whether they have some real God-given power. And he offers them a choice for this confrontation: “What do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a whip, or in love and with a gentle spirit?” (1 Cor. 4:21). There will still be confrontation. The results will probably be the same. But the discussion can either be harsh or mild.

When confronting their boys about their choice of breakfast attire, both of my grandparents chose their own way to confront their boys. Although he tried to be gentle at first, my grandfather used words of escalating harshness. My grandmother never said a word, which could have been misinterpreted as being complacent, but delicately used her delicates to deliver her point. And which method got results, the whip or the gentle spirit?

Which method will get us results next time we need to confront someone?

Which method would we want someone to confront us with?

Cushion

It seems counterintuitive. More cushioning should make for a softer landing. But as Christopher McDougall cites in his book Born To Run, that’s not always true.

In a series of tests on gymnasts, researchers at McGill University discovered that the athletes actually landed harder and with more force as the landing mats got thicker. “Instinctively, the gymnasts were searching for stability,” and landed harder to “ensure balance,” writes McDougall.

In a different study at the University of Oregon, researchers found that as running shoes got older and worn out, “the runners feet stabilized and became less wobbly.” When the runner used highly cushioned shoes, “their feet tried to push through the padding in search of a hard, stable platform.”

So both studies described by McDougall arrived at the same strange conclusion: More cushioning actually means less stability.

Surprising?

Not if you listen to Jesus. He consistently tells us to give up what we think will help stabilize our lives, and lean instead on something that doesn’t move - Him. Like in His instructions before sending out the disciples, Jesus tells them to forget about packing, and says “Do not take along any gold or silver or copper in your belts; take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandals or a staff” (Matthew 10:9-10). He praised and held up a poor widow as an example of ultimate faith and trust after she left herself with seemingly nothing because she gave “all she had to live on” to God (Luke 21:4). Jesus counterintuitively told a wealthy man to sell everything because there was still something he lacked (Mark 10:21).

Now, finish this sentence: “If I could just have _________, I’d be better off.” Our answers (our honest answers) will indicate what we think will provide the most comfort and stability to our lives. More money in the bank. Different job. Bigger house. Different neighborhood. More authority. More friends on Facebook. More real friends. Different family members. But after we get that, what will we need to fill in the next blank?

Jesus is saying, “Forget what you have and what you think you need for comfort and peace of mind. I’ll take care of you. What you think you need is providing too much cushioning between you and me, and is actually destabilizing your life.”

Oxygen Mask

Do flight attendants realize they are delivering Biblical lessons during portions of their pre-flight safety demonstration?

When Jesus is asked what the greatest commandment is, He responds first with “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength,” followed by “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:28-31).

The second part of His answer always struck me as interesting. A lot of people probably read the verse, and think, “Yeah, gotta go do something good for someone today.” But the implication is that we can’t truly love someone else until we love ourselves first. Not in a selfish, arrogant, narcissistic sort of way; more like a comfortable, knowledge-is-power, confident sort of way. Once we address and overcome our own difficulties and problems, then we can help guide other people through similar issues.

But we can’t do that until we take a long, honest look at ourselves and our own shortcomings, and deal with them. We’re all blinded by the big, honkin’ logs in our eyes, and they need to be removed before we focus on the specks in everyone else’s (Matthew 7:3-4). Nobody can remove them for us. We each need to recognize the size and shape of the plank, and choose to remove our own.

For years, I urged my mother to address a particular problem of hers, and sometimes the urging got harsh. Although the intent was good, my method of delivery was definitely not. I knew I was right, and selfishly wanted to control the situation and her. Once God showed me my total lack of control, I began to approach the situation with a little more peace. Only then did she cautiously begin to listen to what I tried to say.

We can supply life and hope in the midst of pain and panic and confusion if we have loved ourselves enough to admit, confront and address the our own sins and the issues keeping us separated from God. Which is why we need to continually work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, not some one else’s (Philippians 2:12). And why we need to be eager to make our own calling and election sure, not someone else’s (2 Peter 1:10).

After all, when the oxygen masks drop from the overhead compartment due to a loss of cabin pressure, who’s mask is supposed to be adjusted and secured first, before assisting others?

Training Tips

Those of you who read this blog back in February might remember something about me running a marathon. That was 5 months ago, so here’s an update: the race is still not until July 11th. It’s been a long time coming. But in the time I’ve been training, I’ve learned a lot, not only about how to be a better runner, but how some of those same lessons apply to my journey as a Christian.

I’d like to think the changes in my life over the past 5 months are a little more profound than burning so much energy that I eat like a teenager again and doubling our food bill. The preparation and training for this long distance race are similar to how we should all be practicing as Christians to meet our ultimate goal of crossing the finish line into heaven. So here’s a list of some training tips I’ve learned:

1. Verbalize your goal, out loud and by yourself. Then tell someone else, and then someone else. After a while, even the craziest sounding goal begins to seem reasonable.

2. Find people who understand your goals and will encourage you along the way.

3. Plan your life around what you need to do to meet your goal, not vice versa.

4. Accept the fact that there will be setbacks, and you probably will get hurt. See #2. And keep going as best you can.

5. Pace yourself. Burning out makes it 10 times harder to get going again.

6. How well you do is based entirely on your effort, commitment and perseverance, not somebody else’s.

7. If you want to get better, you’ve got to struggle up some steep hills.

8. You won’t get to the top of the hill by coasting down. See #7.

9. Don’t compare your results to the results of others. It’s your race. See #6.

10. Celebrate your accomplishments along the journey. Even if they seem minor, they are steps toward something major.

OK. Maybe my list seems obvious, slightly corny, or both. But I have come to believe that Roger Banister, the first person to run one mile in under 4-minutes, was on to something when he said “Running helps us do other things better.” Maybe running isn’t your thing, but we are all on a long journey. Even if you never plan to run a marathon, you are still in training for that journey, and need to “train yourself to be Godly” (1 Tim. 4:7).

What's that kid with the purple head saying?

I looked blankly at the kid with the purple head. He looked blankly back at me. And in the silence, he spoke loud and clear.

Recently, I had the opportunity to be a guest teacher at the local children’s museum as part of its after-school science class for kindergarteners and 1st graders. I planned to teach the kids some basic concepts about sound and acoustics, since it’s my job. I thought I had a perfect class ready for young kids. Cool sound demonstrations. Making music with rubber bands. Finding out who was the loudest kid by letting them yell for all they’re worth. But thanks to a scheduling mix up, 3rd and 4th grade boys got tossed into the class mix.

Not being ready for that kind of disparity, disaster ensued. The older boys produced a steady stream of complaints. “We’ve done that already.” “We’ve seen that already.”

And my personal favorite: “Uh, mister, that kid’s head is turning purple.”

A kindergarten boy had taken one of the rubber bands – one that would fit a small town newspaper weekday edition, not the New York Times Sunday edition – and squeezed his head through it up to his forehead. The elastic was so tight, everything above it was purple melon majesty, above his face so plain.

Even though he said nothing, I got the message.

In 1 Timothy 4:12, Paul implores us to be an example “in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity.” Paul mentions speech once in that list of five. That means about 80% of everything you communicate to people is potentially non-verbal. An angry look. The offer of a handshake. A smile. A turned back. A quiet confidence. Restless hands or feet. An overly eager nod or a slow shake of the head. All those actions, and hundreds of thousands more, provide clues to those around us about where our heart is, and offer a glimpse into our state of mind.

Therefore, 80% of our witness as Christians is non-verbal, too. Everything we do, everything we think, everything we like and dislike, and what we do in our spare time is all on display at one time or another. Behavior springs from belief, and demonstrates what is and what is not important to us.

It will not matter how eloquently we talk about Jesus if our actions do not jive with His teachings. People intuitively know when our words and our actions do not align, and they will turn away.

And if someone who’s watching you crams a rubber band over their head, trust me, you’ve lost them, even if they never say a word.

The Brook

The Brook’s aura said it should not be trusted. As the outlet of Bartlett Pond near White Horse Beach, this wily stream of warm water cut through the sand on its way to the frigid, clear waters of Cape Cod Bay. Murky-brown, eel-infested, prickled with broken glass, and polluted with strange substances beyond identification; or so our parents claimed.

My grandparents spoke of a time years earlier when the Brook flowed freely through the sand on its way to the ocean, and carved a different path every year. This was the root of the Brook’s sinister reputation because every year, its snaking path put people’s cottages in danger. Owners would arrive each spring to open cottages for the season, nervously wondering where the Brook would be. Sometimes it went straight out to sea. Sometimes it doglegged right. Sometimes it whipsawed left. Some years, they would find the Brook dangerously close to the cottage foundations, eating away and destabilizing the sand nearby.

Finally one year, the cottage owners banded together to stop the Brook’s meanderings. Huge boulders were brought in by the Army Corps of Engineers to form a permanent channel to force the Brook down a specific path toward the ocean and away from the cottages, denying the possibility of future mischief.

Where does your mind go when you let it run free? Scheming up ways to deceive? Focusing wistfully on past relationships gone bad instead of the one you’re in now? Dwelling on situations that have hurt us? Planning for revenge? Conspiring to gain control? Devising insults to be ready for the next time a certain person comes up in conversation? These types of thoughts pop into our heads pretty frequently, if we are honest. Although some ideas may seem alluring and appealing, they could begin to destabilize our lives if we let them wander unchecked.

Instead of letting those murky, questionable thoughts course freely though our minds, we need to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5b). To do that, Paul implores us to focus on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8). In other words, focusing on Jesus and His teachings channels the weird thoughts away, and prevents them from destabilizing our lives.

Sean . . . . LIVE!!

I greatly appreciate the chance to write about deep thoughts and questions, like:

• When do we most feel God's presence in our lives,
• How can we be good, Godly examples, and
• Can Sean actually fit into a size-small 3-piece suit that cost $7.50 at Goodwill and flop around on stage without the pants splitting in front of a church full of people while lip-syncing the most horribly terrific version of O Holy Night ever recorded?

Jim Valvano said “To me there are three things everyone should do every day. Number one is laugh. Number two is think -- spend some time time in thought. Number three, you should have your emotions move you to tears. If you laugh, think and cry, that's a heck of a day.”

So to help you have a heck of a day, I humbly submit the following video of my, ahem, "performance" during our church's Cabin Fever Follies recently, so that you, too, can laugh, think and cry - probably simultaneously. I'm the tall guy in the suit; my friend Steve is playing the air keyboard. I found the song on the web a few years ago, and it's been love ever since. A Christmas staple at our house. A special thanks to Steve Mauldin for making the original audio recording years ago that has brought so much laughter, tears and thoughts to so many.

Marquee

Who is wise?

He will realize these things.

Who is discerning?
He will understand them. (Hosea 14:9a, NIV)

If you are wise, you will know and understand what I mean. (Hosea 14:9a, CEV)

Qualifying

Kristin arched her eyebrow when I told her. Now, I’m telling you, too: I’m going to run a marathon this year, which by itself is a lofty goal. But, I don’t want to just complete the 26.2 mile race. I want to run it fast enough to qualify for one of the most prestigious marathons in the country, the Boston Marathon. There. I said it.

My wife remembers my last marathon all too well. Eleven years ago, my friend Jeff convinced me to run in the Rock n’ Roll Marathon in San Diego. As I staggered across the finish line, my legs felt like I was dragging them through wet cement, and my skin color melded seamlessly with my soaked white shirt. My legs hurt so bad, I walked backwards for three days, and I avoided stairs like the front pew in the Sanctuary. Whatever I had done for training did not prepare me for the actual race, and I paid dearly for it.

But as Paul said in several references relating the similarities of physical training to spiritual training, I am starting by “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead” (Philippians 3:13). I’m ready to go into strict training, preparing to “run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Cor. 9:24).

My qualifying race is not until July, but preparation starts now. To achieve my marathon goal this time will require sustained focus, dedication, determination, discipline, patience, perseverance, sacrifice and commitment on my part, not to mention the support and encouragement of others.

Sound familiar? If not, then maybe it’s time to pay closer attention to those sermons on Sundays, especially the parts about how to live like Christ. Being a Christian is not a spectator sport. God calls for active participation, and that participation requires preparation.

Come July, I want to be so prepared that I will be sure of qualifying for Boston. Physically, I need to start increasing the miles I run and my speed. In my spiritual life, I want to be so prepared that my eternal calling and election will be sure (2 Peter 1:10), and to do that, I need to improve my prayer life. Over the next four months, I plan on making strides to improve both physically and spiritually.

What about you? What are the goals for your spiritual life to draw closer to God? How are you going to “train yourself to be Godly” (1 Tim. 4:7)?

Salt

The icy patch on the sidewalk leered at us. Dark, dangerous, and sinister, it lurked, waiting for unwary pedestrians. Its smooth, thick surface sneered at us, daring us to try and break it. My daughter and I sneered back. But how would we confront this slippery menace? Metal shovel? Jackhammer? Blowtorch?

Hardly.

With a steely stare, I pulled a salt shaker out of my pocket, and began to scatter the tiny grains over the cold, hard surface. Immediately, we heard the sound of the salt going to work. My daughter dipped her head close to the sidewalk and exclaimed, “Dad, it’s crackling!” She kept staring down, expecting something visually epic to match the cracking sounds emanating from the ice, but there was nothing to see. As I herded her back into the house, she kept looking back, maybe hoping to see small mushroom clouds erupt as the ice vaporized. Instead, we went inside, and waited. The next morning, the pavement sat exposed where the salt had been working all night long.

We all know and have to deal with people that have cold hearts, icy attitudes, and chilly demeanors. But how? For the past several years when confronting a family member that deceived me and demeaned my wife, Kristin, I often tried a full frontal assault instead of a pinch of salt. I felt justified angrily lashing out because I knew I was right, but my words ricocheted away. Therefore, we both remained downright frosty toward each other.

However, Paul says, “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (Colossians 4:5-6). And so the thaw in our relationship did not begin until I consciously decided to scatter some positive correction and encouragement into our conversations. And so did Kristin. And so did other relatives.

A single word with a grain of kindness can begin to weaken what appears to be an impenetrable, imposing, and defiant person. The results may not be immediately obvious, and will probably require more salt than we can each sprinkle individually. However, God will make sure that all those grains work together, because “He sends his word and melts them” (Psalm 147:18a).

In the dealings with my family member, I can hear the ice cracking, but that sound - clear, sharp and distinct – is actually the ice melting around my heart.