A Work in Progress

Thoughts and adventures of Thomas Wilkins, a transplanted San Diegan learning about God and himself in the Arizona Desert

Archive for the category “Uncategorized”

CTE Sucks

I used to think that football players these days weren’t as tough as they used to be, what with all the new rules now in place that prohibit various types of hits, and protect players from certain types of injuries.

I’m beginning to realize that tough has nothing to do with it. The NFL is getting it right with protecting these men. There have been several incidents of suicide from former players over the past few years, culminating in the death of Junior Seau on Wednesday from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

One commonality amongst some of the players who have died over the past few years—not just from suicide—has been chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), thought to be brought on by traumatic brain injuries such as concussions, which are extremely common in the NFL.

I’m beginning to thing much more is going to have to change in the way of protecting these men. The eyes of the public are beginning to open to CTE, and it’s my hope that athletes do not continue to die this way, or have their lives and cognitive abilities shortened because of these injuries.

I’m ashamed to say it took the death of a local sports hero—no, a local legend—to make me realize that. I realize it now, though. And as much as I enjoy football, something has to change.

The Depths

One of my SD friends wrote something today, to the effect of she was who God made her to be. A simple statement, certainly, but not so easy to get your mind around. At least, not for me.

I am who God made me to be.

I think the problem I have with that has more to do with my self-perception than anything else. Why would God make me to be…this?

Aren’t I supposed to be a new creation? So much of the time I don’t feel like one.

And if it is true that God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all, then why is it that sometimes when I look into my heart, I see darkness?

Even today, knowing Christ, that is often what I see. It’s true that I’m a new creation, but it doesn’t take much for me to fall into old thought patterns, belief patterns, and even sin patterns. And it is certainly easier to believe negative things about myself than positive ones. It’s easier to believe the worst of God, because it makes more sense.

Grace makes no sense at all. Jesus didn’t die for us when we were at our best, or as we should be. He died for us at our worst, at our farthest from Him, when we needed him most.

Who would do a thing like that? Certainly not me. Who wants to do anything for a person that deliberately rejects them? You can almost understand it for people who are good, who do things for others at great cost for themselves.

That isn’t me. Because at my core, at the innermost depths of my heart, it is much easier to believe I am not a good person.

But is that really true?

Am I a bad person?

There are times when I feel like I am. Maybe I have a tough and stressful day at work, then I come home and snap at my kids or my wife, who are just happy to see me.

Someone who is good, who knows Jesus, would not do a thing like that.

There are times when I don’t give very cheerfully, either. It’s my money, and I earned it. I sweated for it, and lifted heavy things, and stayed up well past my bedtime.

A good person, a good Christian, gives and then gives some more. So why do I hold so tightly to the things of this world?

If I was made new and clean by the blood of Christ, then why do I feel dirty so often?

What does God say about that? I know that when I made my decision for Christ I “put off the old man.”

And was made a “new creation.” And even before that, I believed that God made me.

Didn’t I? And isn’t it true?

So if God made me, and if I am a new creation, then if I think I am a bad person, isn’t that like saying God made me bad? And does God make bad people?

I think that maybe God makes people good, and for whatever their reasons are, people make bad decisions about their lives–I know I did, for a very long time.

So that being said, and with the knowledge that I’ve “put off the old man,” why is it so easy to remember the old man, the one with the heart of stone?

The one with darkness and ugliness at his depths.

Hard question to answer, but I think basically, because it’s hard to totally surrender to God. It’s easy to remember the old me–and to feel like him. That’s what I knew for so long, and that’s why it’s so easy to slide back in that direction.

But because I know Jesus is there, there really isn’t any darkness. In Him there is no darkness at all.
I am in Him.

And there is no darkness–even if it feels that way every once in a while.

I think of the Chris Tomlin song “Indescribable,” and the lyric that sums up Christ’s love for us, his beloved Children.

For me.

“You see the depths of my heart, and you love me the same.”

He loves us the same, even if when we look at ourselves we see darkness. He loves us the same, even if when we look at ourselves, we see ugliness.

He loves us the same.

Because His perception is not ours. He sees us through timeless eyes not colored by lies about ourselves, and about Him.

He died for us while we were dead in our transgressions.

He died for us broken and disgraced.

He sees the depths of our heart and he loves us the same.

Verses of the day…

Originally posted last July…but I can’t get enough of these verses. And I love the Message translation…

“When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son started his speech: ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’

22-24“But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a wonderful time! My son is here—given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a wonderful time.

Luke 15:20-24, From The Message

Funny how you just find stuff sometimes.

30 Days

A while back I saw episode of 30 Days on FX (catch it on Netflix streaming if you can, it’s really interesting) about a straight man living with a gay roommate for a month. It did much to dispell some of this man’s preconceived notions about the gay community, but it also raised some interesting questions about the straight community, and that of the church’s position and views (some churches, anyway) regarding homosexuality.

The show really made me think about some things.

That was always one of the toughest things about “the church” for me to deal with–the sometimes violent reaction that homosexuality provokes within it, from many people one would not normally expect to have that type of reaction. You see people who look like soccer moms, and schoolteachers, and just…regular people picketing places known to have gay patrons, or guests, or even just some places they (the picketers) can draw attention to themselves.

The “church” Which Shall Not Be Named seems to be the chief offender but certainly not the only one—just watch any news coverage of a gay pride parade and you’ll see the people I’m talking about (I am not naming that particular institution because they don’t deserve to be named—hate speech has nothing to do with Jesus) .

When I see those people were standing there with their sandwich board signs proclaiming “God hates fags” and things of that nature, it makes me feel sad more than anything else. For goodness’ sake, sometimes you’ll even see small children holding signs and yelling!

That just isn’t right, not to me at least.

These people spent a lot of time citing the various scriptures that refer to homosexuality as proof that God does indeed “hate” gays.

I disagree.

I believe God hates the devil, and the sin that he “inspires” in God’s people, but God does not hate his children.

These men and women say they take the bible literally. OK. Fine. Take it literally. It’s true. But if it is, and they believe all of it, then where do they get the idea that it’s OK to hate someone because of who they sleep with (or who they don’t)?

The message of Jesus is one of love, not condemnation. These kind of people just don’t get that. I believe the bible is just really one long love story–about God loving his creations through the messiness of their lives, all of them. Not just any one denomination, or cultural sub-group.

He loved us when he made us, through our sin, in spite of our sin, and he will continue to do so even if we never repent, and even if we never come to know Him and never realize that He loves US, he still will. I think of John 3:16. Romans 8:38-39. Nowhere does the either the bible or God say to hate a person because of the person’s sexuality or any other reason (that I know of).

Jesus did get angry at people—like the money changers who made the temple into a den of thieves, or the Pharisees who just didn’t get it, either. Come to that, these sign-holders are sort of modern-day Pharisees themselves, aren’t they?

But anyway.

Do I believe that homosexuality is a sin? Yes, because I believe the bible is true. But I don’t hate gays, or really their sin, either, to tell you the truth. It isn’t for me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to hate anyone. And while I’m rolling on that topic, I don’t feel that two men or women being able to legally marry threatens the sanctity of mine or anyone else’s marriage, either.

I will be just as married whether or not two men are able to do the chicken dance at their reception. What I can do, what I should do regarding these men and women is show them the love of Jesus, and not color it with my personal hangups or ideas about what is and isn’t right.

I know a lot of people think that a person chooses to be gay–that it’s a preference. I’m not so sure I agree with that, either. Why would anyone choose to be hated, or persecuted?

But with that said, all I can really do is pray for them. The thing is, the gay people I’ve known in my life have all been pretty much cool, and in the case of a girl I used to work with, someone I liked very much. Someone I could (and plan to) be friends with.

I knew a gay man named Michael, who was another story because he embodied all the stereotypes people cite when they talk about gays; he was very promiscuous, he used drugs, he was flamboyant (though not particularly stylish. He could dance, though). But even he was pretty cool.

The thing I have noticed about gays and lesbians is that they seem far more accepting of people as they are, and not who they think they should be. And the support they offer one another within their community is extraordinary. Maybe we straight folks could all learn a thing or two about that. Maybe it comes from having to draw together as a group, and accept each other when no one else will accept you. I don’t know. Anyway, it’s a tough issue, and one that I probably won’t figure out anytime soon.

I guess for now, I’ll just have to accept that gay people are going to be gay whether I or anyone else wants them to be. I’ll continue to think their lifestyle is a sin, because I believe the bible is fundamentally true, and that’s what it tells me. Romans uses the term “unnatural lust” to describe it. But I will not hate homosexuals because of their lifestyle. I will do my best to love them as people, to accept them as people like I would accept anyone else. I’m not going to be condemning anyone because of their sexual proclivities as consenting adults.

It’s for God to condemn, not me.

Not Peace, But a Sword

I grew up with this picture of Jesus in my head. It was probably the same as many people have–the tall guy in the white robe with the flowing, honey-colored hair and the kind brown eyes. Sometimes I’d picture him doing things like patting kids on the head and carrying lambs across his shoulders—the kind of pictures you see on tracts and velvet paintings all over the place.

But not always.

Occasionally you’ll see an almost bloodless representation of the crucifixion—with Jesus, arms spread, staring up at the sky with a beatific expression plastered on his unbloodied face.

Things like that.

But there was so much more to Jesus than any number of paintings could ever depict. He walked everywhere. He built things. He worked with his hands. He made over a hundred gallons of wine from clay jars of water for the wedding in Cana—and I imagine he probably sang and danced a little, too, though the scripture doesn’t tell us about that. He had a large group of friends, and they probably laughed together, and ate together, and cried together.

Jesus was Lord, and Savior, and El Shaddai, but He was also a man.

And he did not just walk around smiling at people. Not that he did not do the things you see represented everywhere, but that was not all he did, certainly. And not all He was meant to do.

Look at Matthew 10:34:

34“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.

A sword.

And while it’s true he came to die for us, that we might live, he also came to fight for us, to intercede on our behalf. He did everything He could to give us an opportunity to choose Him—and to live. His passion for us was without measure. His passion for His father was without measure.

From John 2:

13When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. 15So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!”

It must have really been something to see—this Rabbi, this teacher, who prior to that incident, had been simply that—a teacher. But this man was also a warrior. This man, upon seeing his Father’s house not just disrespected, but commercialized and filled with….things not of Heaven, but earth, was incensed to such a degree that he sat down somewhere, and calmly braided some pieces of leather into a whip, and used it.

He came to the temple to observe the passover, and found a flea market instead. His disciples hadn’t seen this side of him before. It had to have been a little disconcerting. But then:

17His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

It was written.

I had not read that verse before, had not even heard of it. My NIV tells me it was from Psalm 69–which was a psalm I’d skimmed over, but not spent any real time on.

9 for zeal for your house consumes me,
and the insults of those who insult you fall on me.

It was insulting that the…vendors in the temple had no respect or understanding of not really the temple itself, but the purpose of it. On its own, the temple was just a building, an object. It was not holy. But the presence of God made it Holy. And the people that came with the intent of worshipping in earnest, with all their hearts, should have been able to do it, to be in communion with the one true God, without navigating a crowded marketplace.

They made it worldly.

And that made Jesus angry. The moneychangers and other sellers of things were taking away from the worshippers time with God. And even then, even before Calvary, Jesus knew that none of the things being sold in the temple were necessary (or would not soon be necessary) to enter into relationship with God.

Here is psalm 69, in its entirety. NIV translation.

1 Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.

2 I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.

3 I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God.

4 Those who hate me without reason
outnumber the hairs of my head;
many are my enemies without cause,
those who seek to destroy me.
I am forced to restore
what I did not steal.

5 You know my folly, O God;
my guilt is not hidden from you.

6 May those who hope in you
not be disgraced because of me,
O Lord, the LORD Almighty;
may those who seek you
not be put to shame because of me,
O God of Israel.

7 For I endure scorn for your sake,
and shame covers my face.

8 I am a stranger to my brothers,
an alien to my own mother’s sons;

9 for zeal for your house consumes me,
and the insults of those who insult you fall on me.

10 When I weep and fast,
I must endure scorn;

11 when I put on sackcloth,
people make sport of me.

12 Those who sit at the gate mock me,
and I am the song of the drunkards.

13 But I pray to you, O LORD,
in the time of your favor;
in your great love, O God,
answer me with your sure salvation.

14 Rescue me from the mire,
do not let me sink;
deliver me from those who hate me,
from the deep waters.

15 Do not let the floodwaters engulf me
or the depths swallow me up
or the pit close its mouth over me.

16 Answer me, O LORD, out of the goodness of your love;
in your great mercy turn to me.

17 Do not hide your face from your servant;
answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.

18 Come near and rescue me;
redeem me because of my foes.

19 You know how I am scorned, disgraced and shamed;
all my enemies are before you.

20 Scorn has broken my heart
and has left me helpless;
I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
for comforters, but I found none.

21 They put gall in my food
and gave me vinegar for my thirst.

22 May the table set before them become a snare;
may it become retribution and [a] a trap.

23 May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see,
and their backs be bent forever.

24 Pour out your wrath on them;
let your fierce anger overtake them.

25 May their place be deserted;
let there be no one to dwell in their tents.

26 For they persecute those you wound
and talk about the pain of those you hurt.

27 Charge them with crime upon crime;
do not let them share in your salvation.

28 May they be blotted out of the book of life
and not be listed with the righteous.

29 I am in pain and distress;
may your salvation, O God, protect me.

30 I will praise God’s name in song
and glorify him with thanksgiving.

31 This will please the LORD more than an ox,
more than a bull with its horns and hoofs.

32 The poor will see and be glad—
you who seek God, may your hearts live!

33 The LORD hears the needy
and does not despise his captive people.

34 Let heaven and earth praise him,
the seas and all that move in them,

35 for God will save Zion
and rebuild the cities of Judah.
Then people will settle there and possess it;

36 the children of his servants will inherit it,
and those who love his name will dwell there.

Hard to follow that with any comments, so I won’t, other than to say that Easter is this weekend, and right now we’re in the middle of Holy Week. Sometime around now, 2000 plus years ago, Jesus was making a whip.
Just read the preceding psalm, and think about it. Chew on it. Ask God what you can take away from it.
And think about what parts of your life need to be upset in order to right your relationship with the living God.

More on Christian the Lion

From the today show this morning:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25929574/

If this was a movie, I would wear it the heck out….

Shining up Our Scars

This is from “Stuff Christians Like.”  I hadn’t read it before, but it floored me.  So awesome:

Thursday, July 17, 2008

#349. Shining up our scars.

I don’t remember what it felt like when the steel bar tore through my face. The moment it happened my body was flooded with adrenaline and I got drunk on survival. I hit the ground running, streaming blood from a wound that would require plastic surgery and hope. But I probably need to back this story up.

In the seventh grade I was in love with my Santa Cruz Rob Roskopp skateboard. It was my whole world and one day I thought it would be fun to jump off a concrete loading dock at a factory. The plan was to grab what I thought was a stable bar and swing from it while my skateboard sailed off the four foot drop.

Unfortunately, they load and unload things on loading docks and the bar was unattached for convenience. When I grabbed it, the bar fell immediately, catching me squarely on a nose that would never be the same. I could have been killed, the force of the blow sandwiching my head between the loading dock and the steel bar. The doctor said I could have lost all my teeth but they were anchored in from the braces I had received a week earlier.

So for a few crazy seconds I ran through the streets, my face in my hands, my blood on my arms, while cars streamed around me angrily reacting to what they thought was a teenage prank. Finally, a red pickup truck stopped and gave me a ride.

Some of that day has begun to blur, the edges becoming fuzzy under the weight of so many years. But one thing I will never forget is the look on the driver’s face when I gave him my assessment of the accident. I clearly remember his expression, when I turned to him and said, “I hope it’s just a bloody nose.”

That was foolish. It ended up taking dozens of stitches to keep my nose on my face. My cheekbones were fractured. Years later I had to get plastic surgery to stay pretty. It was a serious accident.

And yet I told a stranger it was perhaps a bloody nose.

I think we do is exactly the same thing sometimes in Christianity. We take the blood and gore of our lives, the sin and the failure and the hurt and the horror and we tell everyone that everything is OK. We use the Christian F word, “fine,” and keep moving on with our lives. We hide the bad stuff and highlight the good stuff until no one can tell that things aren’t perfect. We shine up our scars until they look good enough to not be considered scars.

I don’t know where this temptation comes from. It might start the minute you become a Christian. It can be such a powerful, life transforming experience. Things feel different, you feel alive sometimes like you’ve never felt before. And when the gross creeps back in, when the high of a retreat wears off, when reality comes back and we realize we can’t be perfect for the rest of our lives, we get afraid. We fear that our initial moment of faith was fake or not good enough. It didn’t “count.” Christianity “didn’t take” to us. And so instead of telling people we know that things are bad, that we are still doing things that are opposite of what God calls us to, we sweep it under the rug. We take our first hit of the very dangerous drug called “Hide.”

Or maybe it happens when we go to a small group and people confess “safe sins.” Those deserve their own post but this is when someone shares, “I have to confess something. I have not been reading the Bible enough or praying enough or nursing enough baby birds back to health. I’m so ashamed.” Meanwhile, you’re thinking about that time you had sex before you got married or why in the depths of your heart you hate your parents and suddenly those things feel really bad. For although reading the Bible more and praying more are to be highly desired, when they’re presented in the form of a confession they often silence the real in the room.

I intended to make this chapter 3 of the book but felt like more people than the mailing list might want to read it. And there are some posts that are heavier to carry than others. I did not run in from mowing the lawn when I thought about writing about side hugs for instance. But last night, while out in the yard trying to think of a Bible verse to illustrate this post with, I felt like God threw a not tiny grenade in my head.

Even though I wanted to wow you with lots of Bible verses, the idea I came in, covered with grass and dirt, to scribble down was a lot simpler than that. And it’s really just a question.

Have you ever thought about what type of party the father threw the prodigal son in Luke 15?

I didn’t until last night. I didn’t see the implications for you and me until I thought about shining my own scars. But you know what the prodigal son gets when he comes home? A welcome home party. The father doesn’t throw him a “you never left” party. He doesn’t call the servants excitedly to get things ready for the “everything is fine” party. Not at all, he makes a point of saying, “Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’

He says that twice. Once to the servants and once to the older brother. The father got it. The reason to celebrate was not that things were perfect. It was that the son had been lost, voluntarily so, and was now found. He had been willingly dead by leaving but was now alive. The fact that he had blown it, the fact that the son had broken his life was not a source of shame, it was a cause to celebrate. The gross of being lost and dead was part of what made the reality of being found and alive so bright and true and undeniable.

This is longer than I intended and I don’t want it to sound like I’m saying, “you’re smart enough, you’re good enough and dog gone it, people like you.” The truth is that I don’t know your story. And I’m not telling you to get into a “look how bad my past was” contest with other people. I don’t know what kind of baggage you’re carrying right now or what kind of scars you’re shining. I don’t know if you hate God or left the church years ago for some really valid reasons. Maybe you’re supposed to send this to a friend. I don’t know your story, but I do know mine. I used to write church prayer devotionals during the day and take ecstasy at night. I mortgaged years of my life to things that wrecked me. I’ve been a sucky husband, a bad dad and an embarrassing son. But you know what? God loves me.

Stop shining your scars. It’s OK for them to be painful. The things you did and the things you had done to you hurt and admitting that out loud doesn’t add more failure to your heart. If anything, it creates a lighthouse of sickness in you for the doctor that came looking for the sick, Jesus.

We’re having a welcome home party. And it won’t be nearly as fun or as sarcastic or as interesting without you.

The Nail Man

The Nail Man

By Steve Turner

 

 

Which one was it
that held the nails
and then hammered them
into place?
Did he hit them
out of anger,
or a simple
sense of duty?

Was it a job
that had to be done,
or a good day’s work
in the open air?

And when they
clawed past bone
and bit into wood,
was it like all the others,
or did history
shudder a little
beneath the head
of that hammer?

Was he still there,
packing away his tools,
when ‘It is finished’
was uttered to the throng,
or was he at home
washing his hands
and getting ready
for the night?

Will he be
among the forgiven
on that Day of Days,
his sin having been slain
by his own savage spike?

I freaking love this

This is a longer vision of a video that was floating around a while back.  So awesome.  Hope it’s actually true–I’m not sure I want to know if it isn’t…

St Patrick

Lorica of Saint Patrick

 

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.

I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me;
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a mulitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.
Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation

St. Patrick (ca. 377)

 

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