Monday, April 28, 2014

Disturbed by Jesus


In my last post I shared where Jesus’ story, in particular his death and resurrection, intersected with my story.  The fact that Jesus himself experienced suffering and death connected with me as a 7th grader dealing with the death of a friend.  Things changed for me on that Good Friday and nothing will ever be the same again.  That was 22 years ago and if I could sum up those years in a single word it would be this:  Disturbed.

Not quite what you were expecting?  Maybe you were expecting something on the brighter side like freedom, hope or joy.  Who wants to be disturbed? Nobody desires to be disturbed but if I were to be completely honest there has been nothing more helpful to my life than being disturbed.  In fact, it was one of the first things I experienced as a young follower of Christ.

Prior to my 7th grade year I had been asked by a friend of my mom if I wanted to be involved in this thing called ‘Bible Quizzing’.  She was the coach and my older brother had been involved the year before (he is a year ahead of me in school) but I was not interested.  I had fallen in love with athletics and so my time was spent with basketball and track during the school year.  Prior to my 8th grade year, but after my Good Friday experience, I was asked again if I wanted to be a part of Bible Quizzing.  I again said, “No.” because I had my own plans, my own agenda.  And that’s when it happened.  I was disturbed.  I let Jesus break into my life once and now he was up to it again.  How could I desire to know Christ but simultaneously have no desire to be a part of something that would get me reading scripture and help me get to know Christ better?  My plans needed to change in order to line up with what Christ desired for me and our relationship.

Years later I was disturbed while making college plans, but not all disturbances have to do with making big decisions or even making decisions at all.  There are beliefs that I would easily hold if it were not for Christ disturbing me.  For every verse that a person wants to put on a pedestal as the foundation for a particular belief there are 3 other verses that have me questioning what they’ve built.  As a middle child I would much rather agree with the majority and avoid controversy when it comes to a variety of topics but I constantly find myself disturbed.  I find myself wondering why I am disturbed with particular views and similarly wonder why they aren’t disturbed with it at all.  I am continually praying that I might be shaped more and more into Christlikeness and there is plenty that needs to be shaped.  There is much that HAS already been shaped.  And all along the way Jesus disturbs me.      

In the Old Testament we read about people on the move.  Abraham and his family went from place to place in tents.  Moses led people around in a desert.  God’s people were rarely stationary.  Who they were and what they knew about God was continually shaped by their experiences as they went along.  God never stopped disturbing them where they were.  That’s why living in a tent makes sense.  If you build your home out of stone on a firm foundation you may be tempted to stay there.  God may have moved on but you’re stuck where you are.  You’re not free to move. 

I am not the same person as I was 22 years ago and I pray that I will not be the same person 22 years from now.  I have had to move, spiritually speaking, in a variety of ways already and I don’t suspect that will change anytime soon.  Are you open to being disturbed by Jesus?  A good way to tell is whether you are living in a tent or not.  I hope that you don’t have everything nailed down and secured because if there’s one thing I know about Jesus it’s that you can’t keep him nailed down.  He is free to move and I hope that you, your life, your beliefs, are free to move with him.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Good News On Good Friday

When my wife was a little girl she had the opportunity to spend a few years in Africa as her parents were called to serve in the mission field. Over the past 10 years I have heard numerous stories (many of them more than 10 times apiece) about their time there but one of my favorites involves Lori’s grandpa. Lori’s grandparents weren’t about to let an ocean separate them from seeing their beloved grandchild grow up so they made arrangements to visit for an extended time. It was in their preparation for this journey that they discovered something funny. Lori’s grandpa had been celebrating his birthday on the wrong day for close to 60 years! Grandpa Joner was a twin and they just happened to be born on opposite sides of midnight. Unfortunately his sibling died at an early age and, somewhere along the way, the birth order of the twins got mixed up. Family members regularly comment, "What someone won’t do to have 2 birthdays!"

He’s not alone in birthday mixups. My dad was born in 1937 and is one of 13 kids. Trying to keep all of those birthdays in order was a bit of a challenge and along the way his got goofed up. While celebrating as a youngster on what he thought was his birthday his older sister came home to visit and was wondering why they were celebrating on that day. She insisted his birthday was earlier in the week and after checking the birth certificate the mistake was undeniable.

Most years I celebrate my 2nd birthday on the wrong day. My first birthday is easy to remember because it is a ‘day that will live in infamy’. (December 7th, 1978) I never get confused about that birthday. My 2nd birthday (April 17th, 1992) is always trickier for me to remember because I associate it almost exclusively with Good Friday. Most years it doesn’t fall on Good Friday but I prefer celebrating my birthday on this day because of what happened on the first Good Friday. So instead of doing a birthday post yesterday, I’m doing it today.

April 17, 1992 is simultaneously the worst and most amazing day of my life. Three days earlier a classmate and friend took his own life and he was laid to rest on Good Friday. On Tuesday we had a track meet and the last event was the 4x200 relay which we were both on. Except for that meet. He was ineligible because of one of his grades. Instead of running the 3rd leg of the relay and handing off to me on the opposite side of the track he simply sat on the bench a few feet from me while I waited for someone else to do his leg of the race. I can’t remember what we talked about as he sat and I waited for the race to start but it probably had something to do with school break that started on Wednesday. A couple of hours later he was gone.


Following the funeral three days later I sat in my room alone with all of my unanswered questions. I had plenty of questions. Why did he do this? What could have stopped him from doing this? And on and on the questions went. When it dawned on me that it was Good Friday I asked one question that did not go unanswered. I thought, "This is the worst day of my life! What possibly could be good about THIS day?" I didn’t expect an answer because quite honestly I didn’t think there was an answer. The answer was simply this, "I know how you feel." This realization/revelation did not come about because I sat around pondering the Easter stories I heard growing up. Never before had a Sunday School teacher connected Jesus’ suffering with my suffering. Until that day the Easter story revolved around the good news of his resurrection and eternal life. But on this day the good news of Good Friday was crystal clear. I was not alone. God was no stranger to suffering and loss and death because of what happened on Good Friday. In that instant God was no stranger to me.