Confessions

I have a confession. I am an NPR junkie. I listen every day to my local public radio station, KSTX, and shows like “Fresh Air”, “Talk of the Nation”, “The World” and “All Things Considered”. Today I heard a news story about a complaint made to a school concerning Bible verses on banners at football games. A group, Freedom from Religion, asked that verses be banned from banners. That infuriated me. For one thing I am a Christian and I believe the Bible is the inspired word of God. For another thing, I live in the United States. We still have the First Amendment, don’t we? Whether I’m a Christian, a Mormon, a Jew, or a Muslim, I have the right to say whatever I want to say.

The school district buckled under, separation of church and state, you know. But the school isn’t forcing the students to put Bible verses on their banners; it is their own idea. And that’s First Amendment rights. Not church and state.

Many Christians will lament that there is a war on Christianity in our country. We can’t mention Jesus, can’t wish a Merry Christmas, can’t pray before public events. We blame the government and groups like the Freedom From Religion. But I think the blame rests first with ourselves.

I live in an area of my city that has a high population of Jewish believers. There is a synagogue on a major road that leads to my subdivision. On the Jewish sabbath and other holy days, it is not unusual to see Jews walking to worship, crossing four lanes of traffic, pushing baby strollers, sunshine or rain. They are walking while all the rest of the world is whipping by them at forty-five miles an hour, if they are obeying the speed limit. The Jews are counter-cultural. They have ample evidence that there is a war on Judaism. And yet, they walk as their religion dictates while the world does what the world is going to do.

So the war on Christianity. My theory is that if everyone who called, or even thought, themselves to be a Christian, even if it was just Christians who actually went to church, if all of those Christians stood up and lived as Jesus modeled and taught how to live, our culture would look very different. There would be visible evidence in things like Bible verses on  football game banners, praying out loud before a public event, using the name of Jesus seriously and not as a thoughtlessly tossed pejorative, and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas during the appropriate time of year. More than that it would be treating others as I would have others treat me. It would be considering the interests of others above my own interests. It would be exhibiting a character distinguished by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness,  and self-control. The war on Christianity? Game over or, at least, changed.

Even as I write these highfalutin words, my conscience is pricked. Just yesterday, I had an opportunity to pray out loud before a non-church meeting. Christians were present as well as non-Christians. I was confident I would not be chastised and yet I failed to pray as if I was talking to God.  I failed to pray in Jesus’ name. I failed.

My challenge to myself and to you, dear reader, is to be counter-cultural. If you are a Christian, live as you believe Jesus would have you live no matter what is going on around you. Let the traffic whiz while you walk. Let the world do what the world will do. As for me, I will follow my Lord Jesus.

[click here to see the news story about the football banners mentioned above]

Seasons of Healing

While we were out with our walking group on Saturday morning, a cold front–or cool front–blew in. The breeze picked up to an actual wind. The temperature and humidity dropped. Not only did our bodies feel better, but our spirits lifted. It had gotten to the point in the summer that I wasn’t quite sure it would ever be less than 100 degrees and 99 per cent humidity. And then just like that, the season changed or at least promises to change. A reminder that God is in charge. His natural laws are true and reliable.

Last Wednesday I cut my finger. We had gone to a restaurant that serves giant cinnamon rolls. And I mean giant. They weigh 3 pounds and are about four inches high. But yummy! Cinnamon and sugar all through the entire roll, topped with icing that melts in the between the rolled layers. It is not health food. We took three-quarters of it home in a box and planned to share it with guests. I was cutting our portion off, holding the styrofoam platter behind the roll where I couldn’t see it. I sliced into the index finger of my left hand. Of course, I didn’t want to get stitches; I could heal it with band-aids and ointment. That was almost a week ago. It is still sore, but on the mend. A reminder that God is in control. His natural laws work regardless of our dumb mistakes.

My Aunt Joyce  called on Saturday night. Her husband, Charles, passed away on Friday night. She had moved into a new season: widowhood. Uncle Charles has experienced the healing that was not possible in this world. Joyce is left with the pain of grief. However, as surely as cooler temperatures and as surely as my finger is healing, her pain will be lifted little by little until she experiences with Charles the healing that is possible in the world we cannot see from here. God is in control of the seasons of life. His law of love and grace stands strong and immutable.

What season are you in? What pain are you experiencing? Where do you need healing? No matter what you answer, God is in control of even that.