Let Bloomberg be the Judge!

Former New York Major Michael Bloomberg said recently "When I get to heaven, I'm not waiting to be interviewed.  I earned my way in.  It's not even close."

Funny, I didn't know Bloomberg was God.

I thought God made the decisions as to who got into heaven? 

Even funnier, it isn't close.  You didn't earn it.

That's not a judgment about him.  The Bible says "There is no one righteous, not even one."  It also says, "Anyone who has broken any part of the law is a lawbreaker."  In other words, if you have ever done ANY sin, EVER, then you can't earn it.  You're either pure or tainted.  There is no in between.

Tomorrow is Good Friday.  Sunday is Easter.  The whole reason for this weekend (and incidentally all of creation) is that none of us has or can earn our way in.  So God sent Jesus, His only Son, to die as punishment for our sins, and rose from the dead so we would too.

Jesus said elsewhere that if we rely on how good we are, we won't make it.  But He will give us His righteousness.  Think of it like Him paying our cover charge to get into the most exclusive club ever. 

So Bloomberg, you can rely on your goodness.  I'm taking His.

The Cost

Right now I'm going through Luke 14, writing my own Bible Study materials (available to anyone upon request). I've come over the last few years to really love Luke 14. Jesus tells this parable (a story told to teach a lesson) about a wealthy man. He's throwing the party to end all parties. It is going to be everything that a party should be. He's invited the guests, but when he sends his servants out to say "Food's ready; come on," the guests have all these excuses why he can't come. The host gets mad, and so he has the beggars, the disabled, the homeless, and the "outsiders" come in. Then he basically says "When those I invited first hear how great the party is and finally show up, don't let them come."

In the parable, God is the host. He invites the wealthy, religous people in first, but when the refuse to come, he invites the broken and the outsiders (like me). This parable is meant as a warning to the religous people. We can't say, "Yeah, I'm going to follow you God. But later. First, I have to..." The Pharisees made excuses, so Jesus went to sinners and prostitutes. When asked why, Jesus told the story of the Prodigal Son.

But to the Pharisees (and to us) he says, "Be sure to count the cost. Anyone who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple." It's easy to say that we're Christians. But are we willing to pay the price? Our money, our jobs, our homes, our hobbies, our families, our lives. Are we willing to pay the price to follow Jesus?

One year later

One year ago today, my dad passed away. After the funeral, I took some time to write it out. This morning, I took some time to read this, and thought that you might like to also.

http://knight4today.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-weeks-and-worst-day.html

Not a Fan

I've been reading a great book by a man that I've come to highly respect over the years. The book is Not a Fan by Kyle Idleman.

What I like about the book is that is looks at the passages that we ignore, and ask the questions we are too afraid to ask. Like, "What if Jesus was serious?" What I mean is we glance over the passages that make us uncomfortable in favor of those that make us happy. We like to pick and chose our own happy, soft version of Jesus. We like "let the little children come to me" better than "Woe to you, unbelieving and perverse generation." We like "Love your enemy" better than "Narrow is the gate, and few find it" or "if you want to follow me, you must give up everything." We like "blessed are the poor" better than "Sell all your possessions, give them to the poor, and then follow me."

See Jesus made a few things clear. First, not everyone goes to heaven. We don't like that. We want everyone to go to heaven. Well, maybe not Hilter, but I want to go without actually having to obey God. But in fact, with that whole narrow gate thing, Jesus was saying that very few people get to heaven. Second, we must obey Him. We want to say "I believe in God," but God wants us to obey him too. People throughout the gospels ask "What must I do to be saved?" In other words, what's the bare minimum I have to do to be saved? Jesus answered like "Love God with everything that you are, and love your neighbor as yourself." He answered like "Obey everything I commanded." (we like to change this to "I'm a good person. I never killed anybody.") Third, Jesus said we have to give up everything to follow him. Just read Luke 14. Jesus makes it clear that there are NO EXCUSES. It's all or nothing. Jesus will not share us.

See, we want to draw a line. It's ok if I sleep with this person. We're in love. Jesus told me to forgive, but he doesn't know what I've been through. We're supposed to not be greedy or materialistic, but this is America. That's just how things are. Our definition of sin is that we don't hurt anybody. Steal from a corporation, not a person. Have all the one-night stands we want. Who cares? But see, when we do those things that aren't any big deal, we pick those things over God. Even if their good things, like work or family. If they take priority, they are sin.

So if very few are going to make it to heaven, how do we ensure that we are one of the few? Reading this book is a good place to start. Also visit http://www.notafan.com. And chances are, if you're offended by all this talk, then you're a fan. You need to check this out more than anyone.

Treasure in Clay Jars

Do you ever think about how strange God is (at least by our feeble minds)? I mean, think about it. If I were an all-knowing, all-powerful God, I wouldn't have created humanity. We treat God like crap. He knew that we would. He knew that we would rebel. He knew that we would betray Him. And He created us and gave us the free will to do it. That's just strange.

And how would you have come to these people? Would you speak to a select few people to speak on your behalf? No, I would have flattened the globe out like a paper wad, then yelled at everyone until the either soiled their shorts or died in fear.

And how would you appear to these people? Would you have sent God the Son as a baby, or as a conqueror? As a peasant or a ruler? As a poor person, or as a king? Would you walk among humanity like one of them, knowing the world would virtually miss it? Would you have died for people that hate you to teach them of your love, or would you have massacred them for talking back to you?

I fear most of you would have done what I would have, which was the opposite of what He did. You know, I have said for years that I don't understand everything about God (or hardly anything for that matter, at least in the grand scheme of things) and that gives me great comfort. If I could understand everything about God, that would mean that He is like me, and that's a scary thought. The more I get to know Him, the more I understand how little I understand of Him.

What got me thinking about this today is how He still chooses to work. Again, if I were Him, I wouldn't send others to work on my behalf. Well, maybe the angels. But I would probably do it myself instead of relying on the most unreliable creatures on earth-us.

I think this astounded the apostle Paul too. 2 Corinthians 4:1-2, 5-7 says, “Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2 Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God… 5 For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. 6 For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. 7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”

The greatest treasure on earth-the good news that God loves us so much that instead of allowing us to die for our sins, sent Jesus to die for us so that if we will love and trust Him, can live forever with Him in heaven-yeah, that treasure He leaves to us. Is He crazy? Not according to Paul. According to Paul, God is merciful. God choses to work in us and through us. Wow. God is strange. But I love Him for it.

"2011 sucks"

That is a quote from a friend of mine. This came when I called him with yet another prayer request. My notebook of requests has a longer list then usual. The particular request comes with a story.

My mother works at the same elementary school that my sister and I attended. One of the teachers there is a lovely lady, whose oldest daughter was a classmate of mine. They both came to the visitation when Dad passed. Dad had always kidded with everyone. This lady was a second grade teacher when I was a student there. Dad always told the kids that she was his second grade teacher too, even though she was younger than he was (kids aren't good at guessing ages, and always believed him). He even told my entire class that while accompanying me on a 2nd grade field trip.

Anyway, her husband Danny passed away suddenly from streptocaucal pneumonia, which is strep that turns to pneumonia (and no, I have no idea if that is spelled correctly). In a little country elementary school, she is the third lady to lose her husband since Christmas, all of whom I knew to one degree or another. One, named Ken (aka "Little Ope" to people who went to NHHS), died of cancer, Dad of heart, and Danny of strep. This was followed shortly by one of mom's best friends (who also works at this school) learning her mother had cirosis of the liver even though she has one drink of champagne at a New Years' party each year, and that's the only alchohol. Then the music teacher's mom died suddenly over the weekend. "What is going on here?" my mom asked in frustration.

Add into that my friend, that I was telling this to, whose car started having alternator problems, serpentine belt snapped, and started leaking coolant. His hours were cut back at work, his pregnant wife lost her job, and has been unable to find another. After all, no one is going to hire a very pregnant woman.

These may seem relatively small, but are fairly damaging to the people involved. Japan however, is large relative to... pretty much anything you want to compare it to.

Matthew 24:4-8
4 Jesus answered: "Watch out that no one deceives you. 5 For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am the Christ,' and will deceive many. 6 You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. 7 Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. 8 All these are the beginning of birth pains.
NIV

As Kyle Idleman pointed out, there is a funny thing about birth pains. As it gets closer to time, they get more frequent and more intense.

Jesus said no one knows the day and the hour when he would return, so don't even try to figure it out. But, we know that the time is getting closer, so be ready. Have you fully committed yourself to Jesus? Have you shared the gospel with those around you who haven't accepted Jesus as Savior and Lord? Who do you want with you in heaven? What have you done to get them there?

Two weeks and the worst day

The last two weeks have been busy. And awful. Jan 25th, 2011 marked the worst day of my life. It started out as a normal day, and I intended to watch the State of the Union and write on that. I was trying to get stuff done at work. That morning, we had a portable shed delivered at my church. My dad took me to deliver buildings like these, only bigger, since I was a kid. It is an easier job with a couple of people that know what they are doing. Anyway, they had a trailer designed for these buildings. It had a remote controlled axle that dropped down allowing the trailer to drive itself side to side. It was too small to haul Dad's buildings, but it was interesting. My plan was to call Dad that evening to tell him about it, because I thought he'd get a kick out of it.

Imagine my surprise when at around 4:10 my cell phone rang and my caller ID read "Mom." My thought was "Mom probably wants to tell me about work. I'll talk to her and have her hand the phone to dad." Instead, Mom told me that my dad was dead. At first I thought she was saying the dog was dead. They have three, so I was confused. When I finally understood, I told her that that could not be right. It could not be. Both his parents are living, and his brother died a year and a week before. Denial is a very real thing in that situation.

Next thing I know, I was on my hands and knees sobbing. I don't really remember walking out of my office into the auditorium, but that's where I fell, weeping. I don't do emotion well, but sadness, sorrow, fear, and helplessness come to mind. It is all so overwhelming.

I was on the phone with Mom for a while. She had walked in and found him. He was already cold. My dad was such a people person, that after I had a day to process, I finally cried and said "It wasn't right that he died alone." Anyway, I called Kraig, who lives down the street from me to come pick me up because I couldn't drive. Somewhere in there I packed stuff I would need from my office. I asked Kraig to take me home so I could pack. By this point, I couldn't see, I was hyperventilating, I was shaking, and I could barely stand upright.

Kraig did not take me home. He took me to his house, just down the street. I think it was his wife's idea. They gave me water, and calmed me down so I could breathe. It was as this point that I called Grandma to tell her. She kept saying "Is he dead?" "Yes Grandma, he is." "No..." This conversation kept repeating. She finally said, "I've lost two of my boys, you know." "I know, Grandma." No parent should ever have to bury a child, let alone two. Then Larry, the Sr. Minister of my church, came over and prayed with me. He stayed for a while, and other people came over. My phone kept ringing. Minister's from Mom and Dad's church, Dad's brothers, friends who found out. I also handed Kraig my debit card, and he got me a flight out. We printed out the boarding pass and he dropped me off at my place to pack. Then I called Mom, and started returning voicemails.

I attended the funeral of the father of my friend John last year. I knew he was close to his dad too, so I asked him, "How do I get through?" We talked for hours. He talked to me, warned me of things. One was that you swing back and forth between waves of emotion and numbness. The more this happens, the longer the numb spells go. I then got a shower, and realized my devotional for that morning was 2 Cor. 5. "To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord."

This passage always filled me with longing. Longing to be in the very presence of Jesus. Dad beat me to it. This set me crying again. It's one thing to believe in life after death. It is another to have experienced the power and love, the presence of the Almighty God. Belief isn't a strong enough word, neither is faith. I KNOW it. Because I trust wholly this God whom I've met, who I've talked with, who leads me daily. Now I long to be with my Father and my dad, who are in heaven.

That night, in the four hours that I attempted to sleep, I did go in and out of awareness, but didn't get any sleep. At 4:00AM, I got up to see it snowing, and got ready. An hour later, I left on a three hour trip on slick roads to the airport. My Senior Minister drove me, because he had 4 wheel drive and no one trusted me to drive, including me. When I checked in for my flight, everything was on time. From the time it took me to walk from security to Gate 4, everything was delayed.

I sat there talking to a flight attendant. No big deal. 1 hour delay. I couldn't concentrate to read, so I sat there watching CNN. Then they announced another delay, another 30 minutes. I pretty much freaked out. I started pacing like a caged animal. I talked on the phone until the battery died. Then I got an update on the plane; the flight attendant told me they were waiting on the plane to arrive from Rhode Island. I finally managed to find an outlet that worked, on the side of the moving sidewalk. I then stood next to it, stamping my feet and talking on the phone. I tried calling Mom with an update at one point. I couldn't get her, and tried calling the house line. I got the machine with my dad's recording on it, and about lost it. I finally talked to my sister, whom up to this point I was afraid I could not handle talking to. Three hours later, the plane finally took off, my sanity hanging by a thread.

On the two hour plane ride, I alternated between staring at the back of the seat in front of me, and my watch. I ate my peanuts, knowing I needed salt. When I landed, people from my parents church were there to get me: Todd Murphy, my high school youth minister and close friend of my father, Doc and Mary Jones, whom have been friends of my parents my whole life, and Todd's daughter Amy, whom my dad always said "Her name is Anthony Micheal Young. We call her AMY for short." I hugged each of them, and we talked on the car ride to the funeral home.

Mom, my sister, and her husband were already there. That was the first we saw each other. I grabbed Mom with one arm and Rebecca with the other and we wept. Damon rubbed my back, comforting us as best he could. They had already chosen a casket (there are less options for a man of Dad's large size.) They chose a grey casket and red flowers, representing the Scarlett and Gray of Dad's favorite team, the Ohio State University Buckeyes. Randy, their senior minister was there. He said "We need to plan a service. I asked them and they would only say that it was your decision." We talked it out. Dad said he wanted his funeral to be funny, and we had some ideas. He asked me about the internment, and I said I could not think about that right now.

There were many people at the house during that evening. Many phone calls and voicemails. Many facebook messages. We had supper. We cried. A lot. Somehow I found myself going through Dad's desk, looking for answers. I told Damon that and cried more. We also decided to make a slideshow of pictures for the viewing. Their youth minister, Matt, put it together, but we flipped through photo albums to find them. Finally, Damon came and grabbed me and basically shoved me into my old room to make me get some sleep. I was awake for 39 hours straight. My eyes had been burning for more than 24 hours from the tears. I have never seen dark circles like I saw in the mirror. It looked fake, or like I had a broken nose. Needless to say, I collapsed into bed that night. That was the longest and worst day of my life.

The next day was the viewing. We arrived at the church and started hugging people in the lobby. Then Randy came out and opened the door. I sat down on the couch out there and started to cry. "I don't want to go in." Mom said, "You have to." She got under one arm and we started to cry hard. Damon got under the other and half-carried me in there. I have no idea if he was crying. What I do know is I could not have made it that couple of days without him. I also know I dreading going in there, because when I saw the body I had to accept this was real.

I sat on the front row and unleashed everything I was feeling. Specifically, that my safety net had been cut. Dad has always been there for me, and now he isn't. But Damon whispered in my ear that I would be ok and he would be there for me. So did Todd and Randy. I'm going to need them. Because we humans need each other. I leaned heavily on Dad. He helped me write sermons. I talked to him about girls (and the lack thereof). I talked to him about frustrations in ministry and what to do about it. Now my life will never be the same.

I learned a lot of things that will be the subject of many years of blog posts, but for now I will leave you with one. It is great when the church is the church. There is nothing better. People flocked to my parents house to help Mom. People brought so much food (and still are bringing it) that we had to throw it away. They came out just to spend time with us and laugh and comfort us. There were so many, who did so many things we lost count. There is nothing better than the church actually being the church.

My Insecurity

I've been wrestling with my own insecurity a lot lately. John Eldridge, in his book Wild At Heart, writes that all men have the question written on their hearts "Am I enough?" Each man also has a wound from a time when that question was answered "No."

Lately the spear has been stuck in my gut answering the question "no." My boss keeps telling me I need to get over it. That doesn't help. It only makes me insecure about how aparent my insecurity is. Wonderful isn't it?

In many ways related to my job, I feel like a boy. Coordinating resistant volunteer who SHOULD but don't is a difficult and frustrating task. It also hurts that during my younger days, my dad was also fired from this job. I talk a good, confident game, but may actually be one of the most insecure men that I regularly spend time with. I've even had trouble accepting compliments my entire life, because I just know those people are lying.

It is easier to spot a certain type of men than others. That is the classic know-it-all. I have had several friends over the years who if they don't know something, make it up. They don't set out to be liars or obnoxious, they are just trying to relate. Many confident people are trying to prove their confidence and competence to others, because if they can convince you, they just may convince themselves too. Actors Bruce Willis and Harrison Ford both admit to sever insecurity, and started acting because instead of having to be themselves, they could be someone else.

I guess we all have our areas. Lately I have just felt consumed by it. I guess I wonder if those I work with figure out that I have no idea what I'm doing if they will get rid of me. I also wonder if someone else could do a better job, and in my weaker moments wonder if they should so that my church can grow. Our attendence has crashed over the summer, and I guess I again find myself secretly wondering if it is my fault or more specifically, if I could have prevented it.



I think that part of it may also involve my resistance to dating. Most of my life I have been the outcast. I was the last pick for dodgeball, baseball, and everything else. I'm just used to being a loser, and being told so. I've never really succeeded in anything in my life until now. I used to believe that everyone was they best they knew at SOMETHING. (This does not include professionals or celebrities, just those they really knew.) It seems foolish now, but that's what I thought. And I was mediocre at everything.

Anyway, I'm so used to being the outsider that rejection is my normal. I have always been the third wheel. Even among my closest friends in college, there was three of us. And it was "John and Robyn" and I was along. Now my closest friends here are married. And I'm not sure that's God's plan for me, despite constant outside pressure. So I continue to feel like a spare tire.

What am I to do about this? Nothing really works right now. I've not been sleeping well, so my depression is in swing. I just look to the return of Jesus, when He will make all things right, including me. Satan may have wounded me, torn some holes in my armor, but he can't kill me. I'll just keep limping on until then.

Stupid again

Some of the people that I made the "Stupid" blog entry returned to haunt me. I thought the deal was over.

Here's what they say: anything Jesus said about the Kingdom of heaven/God was only about the afterlife. What? Are you serious? I looked this morning, and found TWENTY-ONE references to the Kingdom refering to this life IN THE BOOK OF MATTHEW ALONE. The other new Testament authors have the same understanding. Read Luke/Acts (origonally a two-volume work). Luke especially understood that Jesus idea of the kingdom and of life was about the outcasts. Jesus went to those that you "aren't supposed to." He went to the lepers (those suffering from contagious disease that people feared and hated. Anyone thinking AIDS?), the tax collectors (corrupted Jews collaborating with the enemy to steal from their own people), prostitutes (yeah...), women (outcasts of all societies of the time), children (same), Gentiles (that other race, whether it be white, black, hispanic, asian, etc.), the disabled (which in that day were considered cursed by God).

Jesus didn't say, "I'll stay here and let them come to me." He WENT to THEM. His idea of the kingdom was that his followers would go to the poor and the outcast. He sought them out. He looked for ways to help them. Go to biblegateway.com sometime and search for the Kingdom. Jesus said constantly "The kingdom of heaven is like..." and he talked about a Kingdom that seemed small and insignificant, but spread everywhere.

Here this, no matter your perference of the kingdom of this world (Obamacrat, Blue Dog, GOP, Tea Party, etc.) it is still flawed. Maybe God's kingdom is flawed here too, but we have seen the Perfect, and strive to achieve the example He set. If your loyalty is to any version of the kingdom of this world, you will still learn that it is temporary and flawed. At the end of things, it will "burn up like chaff." That isn't a threat. It is a "poof and it's gone" type of thing. You can argue, you can plead, it doesn't matter. So you can either strive for the world, or you can bring the Kingdom down to the world. Your choice, but I advise the latter.

Thoughts on heaven.

I wrote this as a facebook note about three years ago, but it seems relevant.

I don't know why, but the other side has been on my mind recently. I've been
thinking about different things at different times. My bad shoulder, where I
broke my arm when I was a kid was bothering me. As were my bad knees. As were my flat feet. As was by bad back. As was my TMJ. Boy, I have all the medical
problems of a 60 year old. Anyway, I was thinking, a lot of these problems that
I've had most of my life. I was thinking, what will my life be like when I get
to heaven? I've had constant, but slight pain my whole life. I just don't know
how my body will feel without it.

Then I've been listening to the CD "Iris to Iris" by Building 429. That got me thinking about what it will be like when we awaken after death. You wake to feel a warm, strong, gently hand cradling your head. You open your eyes to the most intense light you've ever seen. Its incomparibly brighter than the sun. Only this light doesn't hurt your eyes. Its the light that your eyes were always meant to stare at. That light is coming from a human face. You have never seen the face before, but the face is more
familar to it that even your own. It is the smiling face of Jesus. You are aware
that around you is a crowd of people gathered. Some are past family. Other are
past friends. Others are part of the "cloud of witnesses." The shining face of
Jesus speaks to you. The voice is louder than thunder, the crashing of waves, or
a roaring lion, but causes no fear, but loving reassurance as He says, "Welcome
child."

What will that by like for those outside Christ? That light will reveal
their every sin. There will be no shadow in which they can hide. That voice will
fill then with terror. They will know that Christ loves them, but they will feel
this intense self-harted for having rejected him. I hope to never know that
agony.

Keep in mind, most of this is theory. A lot of this I can't argue, it is just sort of a feeling (and if you know how much I hate feeling vs. thinking as a rational for an argument, you'll know how it pains me to admit this). St. Peter being at a pearly gate, or being surrounded by clouds isn't biblical either, if anything its anti-biblical.

I do know this, a lot of people don't understand heaven. They think you will perpetually relive the best time in your life. Nope. This world, even at its best, is imperfect. God isn't. I've also heard it described as a perpetual church service. Sounds like its designed for 60 year old women. What about for men?

Here's what I know, I serve an infinite, amazing, creative God. Why would I believe that I could hope to comprehend the scope of a heaven created by an incomprehensible God? We can't even understand our own universe. Why would we think we can better understand the afterlife?

I was asked the question if I could live in a heaven with no pain, no evil, no arguing, no death, etc., a perfect world but without God/Jesus, would I want to go there? My answer is no. What makes heaven amazing is the AWESOME God who makes it his dwelling. I can't wait to get there to spend time with God face to face. Now, I worship at a distance, pray often, and read the Bible. I talk to God, and His Spirit speaks to me. There, I will worship face to face. I will finally understand how small I am compared to Him with my own eyes, not just with deductive reason and inspiration.