on mysticism and little white dogs.

              For those of you who may be unaware, I am a very big fan of books. I love to crack open the pages of a brand new book and dive into the mind of an author. I'm fascinated by some people's ability to so clearly articulate certain ideas, and others' ability to creatively shape new worlds. I believe there is an intimidatingly large wealth of knowledge out there and that books are the doorways into it. One book that I have been particularly influenced by lately was written by Johnnie Moore and is very appropriately titled What Am I Supposed to Do With My Life?  I'll give you one guess what it's about.

              In the book, Moore tells a story in order to illustrate the ways in which we tend to over complicate and mysticize God and His intentions for us. It goes something like this, although I am paraphrasing:

              A man has been praying for some time, asking God to provide direction in his life. Particularly, he is unsure about a girl he is considering pursuing. The two have been talking for a while and the man is unsure whether or not to ask her out. Finally, after spending a considerable amount of time waiting on God to give him instruction, the man once more comes to God and asks Him to reveal His will. While sitting at a café table, he tells God that if He will make a small white dog walk around the corner of the café, His will would be understood and the man would know that he should ask the girl out. Otherwise, he would know that it is not in God’s will for them. Having prayed this, the man sits up, crosses his arms, and begins to wait.

              Ten minutes go by, and no dog appears, but the man is determined to wait patiently for God to show himself. He orders another coffee and waits. Another fifteen minutes pass and the man begins to feel discouraged, but he continues waiting nonetheless. Finally, after almost an hour of waiting the man seems to have received his answer from God. But just before he gets up to leave, he hears an unbelievable yet unmistakable sound: barking. He stops packing up his things and turns his gaze to the corner of the building where a small dog being walked by it’s owner has just come around the corner. A small, black dog.

              Comical as it may seem, this is a mostly accurate depiction of what many of us tend to expect when we set out to “wait on God”. While our intentions may be good, our view of God and His will for us is distorted and confused. The reality is that God does not often work through mysterious symbols and signs that cannot be recognized as His work. Now hear me clearly when I say that I am not denying that God does sometimes choose to reveal himself in various ways, and not often in ways that we expect. But in scripture, anytime God does choose to work in these ways it is always unmistakable. Whether as a pillar of fire, a burning bush, or through some other means, God is very clear on the occasions when he reveals himself supernaturally. So why then do we sit around and wonder at the symbols, signs, and feelings that we think might be God speaking to us? Does He not promise to guide us and direct us if we seek Him earnestly?

              The truth is that God HAS revealed himself, and he HAS provided us with guidance and direction. Psalm 119:105 “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” As a teenager, the struggle to find God’s will for my life is one that I am all to familiar with. But why has it been so hard? I believe it’s because, until reading through this book, I had never heard a simple, clear, and concise explanation of how to go about living for Christ. I had heard all the vague semi-helpful advice like “do everything for His glory” or “pray and wait on His direction” but these things never seemed to help. As well intended and valid as they may be, foggy tidbits like these are less than helpful. Moore, however, managed to summarize his approach in a refreshingly straightforward manner. I want to emphasize here that I am only presenting the summary here, and I highly recommend reading the entire book which can be found here.

              That being said, Moore’s ideas are summarized with three words: obedience, wisdom, trust. It’s a sort of flow-chart thought process when it comes to decision making. First and most importantly, we are always called to obey God. Scripture contains a lot of clear cut direction from God and in these instances we do not have to wonder what God wants us to do. Is it God’s will for me to pursue a relationship with this really cute girl who doesn’t know Christ? No. No it is not God’s will for you to do that (2 Corinthians 6:14). Should I disregard my parents advice for my future and live my life however I want? Also no. God has commanded that we honor our mother and father. Where He commands, we obey.

              There are, however, many instances in which scripture does not seem to give a clear yes or no answer through any command or direction. Should I take this job offer? Should I go to this college or that one? Should I even go to college? Do I follow what my parents want, or what I feel God is calling me to? Scripture doesn’t give us a list of acceptable colleges, churches or jobs. Decisions like these, while important, aren’t always directly addressed. Enter the “wisdom” stage in the decision flow-chart. Scripture promises that those who ask God for wisdom will receive it (James 1:5-8). So when we find ourselves in these types of situations, we should first ask God to give us wisdom and discernment, second turn to His word and recognize it as His gift of knowledge and wisdom concerning all things, and third put that wisdom and knowledge into action by making the best decisions we can.

              Lastly, trust is essential in all these situations. Whether we are obeying God’s commands, or putting Godly wisdom and discernment into action, at the end of the day we have to stop and trust that the sovereign God of the universe is not absent from us and our decisions. He has promised to work it all out for good and He will do just that. We cannot surprise or confound God by making some choice that He wasn’t prepared to handle. He is in control and we can and should allow that to put our stressed our little minds to rest. Obey His commands, put Godly wisdom into practice, and ultimately trust in Him to make the best of it all. God is not watching from a distance and hoping that we fail. He is present and active. Trust in Him.

              Also here is a song by Beautiful Eulogy that seems appropriate for a discussion like this one. Enjoy.

"But I say the mark of a mature man / is the one who reads God's word and understands / and allows THAT to govern his decisions and his prospective plans"

on theology, calvinism and my search for God (part 3, The L-Word)

Read part 2 here:
on theology, calvinism, and my search for God (Part 2, Scratching the Itch)


              Love.

              Turns out it is a lot more complicated than I had ever thought. I had thought I understood love. I knew that God loved people. I knew that my parents told me they loved me. I knew that Jr High students had a habit of "falling in love" that is simultaneously tragic, naive and comical. But it wasn't until I really began to understand biblical love that my take on apologetics began to shift.  

Now I want to make something as clear as I can: I've no intention of defining love, or even making clear what love looks like. At least not in its entirety. At this point in my story I feel better equipped to explain what love is not. Instead the following is simply my experience; love as the iceberg and my life the Titanic. A full and clear understanding of love comes from a lifetime of experience pursuing Christ, walking with Him, and studying His word.

              Having said that, my understanding of love thus far stems from many experiences and lessons learned, but from a few in particular. The first is a social uproar that happened only a few years back when a controversy involving Chick-Fil-A engulfed the media. Following statements by Chick-Fil-A head honcho S. Truett Cathy that were seen as "anti-gay", society began attacking the company and numerous protests were staged. As many people probably remember, one of the most notable protests was a day organized by those in the LGBT community to make a show of their affection for each other in numerous Chick-Fil-A stores. Naturally there were bound to be retaliations. One such counter-protest was organized by Mike Huckabee and set to take place on August 1^st as a Chick-Fil-A appreciation day in which people all over America were encouraged to go and eat at the restaurant to show their support. Enter me, and my strong opinions.

              The youth group at my church, which I was then a part of, went on a retreat to a small ranch in Nebraska. One of the nights, while sitting around a small campfire, my youth pastor brought up the controversy, and the "Chick-Fil-A appreciation day" that was being organized through the media, asking us to respond. We all responded about how he expected. There were cries like "this is America!" and "they're trying to take away people's right to have opinions!” My own thoughts on the matter were along the same lines. I believed that a person's beliefs should not be publicly punished, and that as Americans we had the right to live by our own faith. Christianity, as it happens, does not approve of same-sex relationships. So if we claim to be Christians, neither should we. Right?

              Right, but as my youth pastor quickly pointed out, if Chick-Fil-A is a company considered by many to be hating on the LGBT community, and we make a show as Christians of supporting that, what does that tell people about Christianity? Does eating a chicken sandwich in the name of freedom and sexual morality really display Christ's love to the lost? Much to my own frustration, the answer to that was no. I remember very clearly the battle that went on in my mind. My heart and mind were doing battle. I knew that we were supposed to love the lost, but weren't we also supposed to take a stand against what is wrong? Not to mention the fact that my inner patriotism wanted desperately to fight against any restriction of somebody's freedom of religion and speech. “But love” said the nagging voice of my youth pastor. “Where is the love?”

              I was dumfounded. He couldn’t possibly be right. It was my right, or rather, my duty to stand up for morality and to support the beliefs of my fellow Christians. And yet he was right. There was no denying it, try as I might. For the first time I was starting to look past the argument and the fight and into the heart of the situation. But I was lost. If I didn’t have my arguments and defenses what was I to do with my faith in the face of an unbelieving world? I was in limbo and it quickly became apparent that it was time to reexamine my faith and the foundation that it was built on. I knew who my God was and I knew who I was to Him, but I didn’t know what to do anymore. If my life ceased to be around proving my faith, what was I to do with it?

To be continued

on the woman at the well.

Switch lesson, The Story Teen Edition Chapter 23


A Samaritan woman, and a deeply personal conversation.

The story of the woman at the well is one of my favorite stories in the bible. It's a beautiful picture of the way that God interacts with his people, and it speaks some important truths to us. As the story opens we find Jesus, resting by a well at midday, his disciples having run off to get food from the town. As he rests, a Samaritan woman approaches with her water jar. The meeting seems, at first glance, to be a chance encounter. But we, the readers, know better than that. We can almost feel God's hand at work in bringing these two here together. But there's a few peculiarities surrounding the situation. First, at the end of verse 6, is the phrase "It was about noon". Its an odd detail to just have thrown into the story. What importance does the time really have? Who cares how late it was?
The time, as it happens, is indeed an important detail. Noon is no longer the morning. People are going about their business, a good deal of the way through their days, and people are certainly not still drawing water from the well on the edge of town. That work is reserved for the cool of the morning, not the heat of midday. And yet here Jesus is, watching this woman carry her water jar under the hot sun to draw from the well.
As the woman approaches, Jesus does something even more peculiar. He doesn't politely greet her, he doesn't inquire about her late journey to the well, but he also doesn't ignore her. Instead he simply says "Will you give me a drink?". Jesus is both a jew and a man, making this request a strange and unexpected one. Consequently, the woman is surprised. She replies in verse 9:
        "The Samaritan woman said to him, 'You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?' (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans)." But wait, it gets even stranger as the two go on talking. The conversation went like this:

Jesus: “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."

Woman: “Sir, you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”

Jesus: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

Woman: “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

Okay let's stop here for a moment, because if we're being honest, this conversation is weird. I don't care who you are, I'd bet my next paycheck that you've never had that kind of conversation with somebody you just met in public. So what's going on here? What are they really talking about? Now before all the church kids tune out, I want everybody to just bear with me here. I know this story has been told a million times. But let's stick with it once more.
The conversation the two are having here is about salvation. It's not just a conversation between strangers about water. It's about salvation, eternal life, and the way God interacts with his people. Water sustains life. But the water that Jesus is talking about here would give eternal life. Life that would never need any other sustenance. And the woman asks for it. She says "give me this water so that I won't get thirsty". Isn't that who scripture tells us will receive eternal life? Any who call on his name? But Jesus does another peculiar thing here. Rather than answer the request, Jesus seems to change the subject. He looks past the half-hearted request and engages the woman's heart. Jesus goes beneath the surface. He, being God, knows the woman well. He knows who she is and what her sins are. He knows her pain, and he knows where the sore spots in here life are. His response to her is this : “Go, call your husband and come back.”
And herein lies one of the most irritatingly consistent aspects of God's nature. A truth about Him that makes us uncomfortable when we dare to engage with God (or rather, when he engages with us). God does not beat around the bush. He identifies our sore spots, and he pokes us right where it hurts: In the wounds left behind by our sins. As we later find out, this woman harbors a wounded soul and a hurting, sinful heart. She is an outcast. She has come to the well at noon, presumably, to avoid the many others who would come in the early morning. Her sin? Men. The number of men she has been with cannot be counted on a single hand. I can almost see the discomfort on her face as Jesus tells her to call her husband. He found the nail that is her sin, and he hit it right on the head. And so she does what we all do when God shines the light on our sin. The very same thing that Adam and Eve did in the Garden. She hid. Her words reveal this to us:
“I have no husband,” she says. It's a half truth. A deflection, in a desperate attempt to run away from him. But Jesus does not let her. He has come to conquer sin and he is not about to let this woman hide hers.
"You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true." Can you see the wince on her face? "Sir," she replies, no doubt with a weak voice. She knows there is no hiding anymore. "I can see that you are a prophet" she says. Their exchange is no longer from opposite sides of barriers. All the cards are down. Verses 20 through 26 detail the rest of their conversation.

20 "Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. 24 God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.” 25 The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” 26 Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”

Verse 26 is especially remarkable. Very rarely do we see instances in which Jesus directly states that he is the Messiah. Often, when he is questioned, he will reference old testament prophecy, or speak some truth and allow people to come to the conclusion themselves. Here, however, is one of the unique occasions in which he simply says "I am he". Jesus comes to a well and meets a woman, an outcast among Samaritans. An outcast among outcasts. He speaks to her, he tells her about eternal life. He lays out her painful past as clear as day, and he reveals himself to her. But such is the nature of our God. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The God of eternal life. The God who deals directly with pain.



The text:

John 4: 1-26 New International Version (NIV)

Jesus Talks With a Samaritan Woman
1 Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John— 2 although in fact it was not Jesus who baptized, but his disciples. 3 So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee. 4 Now he had to go through Samaria. 5 So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. 7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” 8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) 9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans). 10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” 11 “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?” 13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” 15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.” 16 He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.” 17 “I have no husband,” she replied. Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. 18 The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.” 19 “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. 24 God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.” 25 The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” 26 Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”

on theology, calvinism, and my search for God (Part 2, Scratching the Itch)

Read part 1 here:
on theology, calvinism, and my search for God (Part 1, What's the point?)


In a book that I recently read, and loved, Austn Fischer decribed the intricacies of his theological journey. At one point he talked about what he calls the "more itch". It's the craving for a deeper faith. The need to discover more and to being learning and growing. The powerful desire to dig below the surface of Christianity. For many of us, and for Fischer, it is the cause of our start down the winding road of big words and complicated theology. It causes us to start asking the hard questions and really seeking the answers. It is the realization that there is always more to discover and more to wrestle with. Or so it was for me.
Growing up in the church left me with an attitude that many church kids like me will relate to. I had heard all the stories, listened to the sermons, and collected all the right answers. I was fluent in christianese, I knew how to behave in a church setting, and yes, I would vote Republican when I grew up, because we all know Jesus is a Republican. But at some point I started to come to the realization that faith is not simple. Life is hard, God is complicated, and I had questions. I was starting to get the "more itch".
I remember a particular friend of mine in jr high that told me once that he was an atheist. He told me he believed we evolved and that science had proved it. This wasn't a new concept to me, after all I had been in public school for the majority of my life. Still, it was the first time I had considered how to respond. How do I argue with science? How could I possibly convince my friend he was wrong when all the evidence seemed to be on his side? For that matter, why would I stand behind my beliefs if I couldn't even defend them? And so I studied. I read books, I listened to sermons, I watched debates and I collected facts. Slowly but surely I began to build up a foundation of facts on which to construct my defense and my arguments. Like a blacksmith crafting a sword, I was carefully crafting the weapons I would use to tear apart those who dissagreed with me. Needless to say, my attitude about the situation needed some serous work, but it was nonetheless a big step into what I now know is called apologetics.
The word "apologetics" comes from the Greek word "apologia" which means "to give a defense". It implies a defense supported by specific reasons, thought and rationality. I became dedicated to exactly that. I suddenly had come up with well thought out, rational arguments in favor of my faith. I took on 1 Peter 3:15 as my life motto and started every day ready to go into battle to defend my God. But in all my studies I never addressed the last part of that verse.

 1 Peter 3:15 NIV

       "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"

Gentleness and respect. Ouch. I never was particularly great at either of those. I was argumentative, stuborn, and my motives had much less to do with advancing the gospel and much more to do with my own pride. In my furious attempts to defend God and win arguments, I was missing out on the reality of who that very God is. Apologetics helped me scratch the itch, but in the end I felt as if I had accomplished nothing. Something was missing. Something much more real and much more satisfying. And thank God I found it.

Read part 3 here:
on theology, calvinism and my search for God (part 3, The L-Word)

on theology, calvinism, and my search for God (Part 1, What's the point?)

       Theology is not for preachers and seminary students. Its not for smart people, or for deep thinkers. And no, it's not even for the Johns (Calvin, Wesley, and Piper). Theology, just like everything else, is for God. Or rather, it should be. Developing our theology should be about finding God and living in community with our Creator. We were created with the intention of walking with Him through life. We should have a desire to know Him, and our theology should be a reflection of that desire. That's the point. A means through which we glorify God by seeking an understanding of Him and His higher purpose. But that isn't always the case.
       I once heard theology described as a raindrop explaining the vastness of the ocean, or the smallest of light bulbs attempting to explain what kind of socket the sun is screwed into. Accurate as that may be, I have a passion, and I will pursue it. I'm passionate about searching for my God. And I'm passionate about it because I believe the God I'm searching for wants to be found. The knowledge I'm asking for, He wants to give. And the community I desire, He created me for.
       But where is my starting point? What's the foundation that I'm building off of? In my endless pursuit of the things I can't hope to understand, what is there that I can know? For a while I didn't have a clear answer for that. I could have told you that God loves me. Or that Jesus died for my sins. Those answers are honest and accurate. They are the right answers, but they feel somehow empty when staring deep into the unknown. So, over a short period of frustrated and unguided study, I've realized my foundation has to become a clear, plainly worded explanation of what is true that I can fall back on when my own understanding inevitably fails. A truth that I can repeat to myself. More than anything, I (and we all) need to be able to know who God is, even when it seems like He is at His most mysterious. Here is that bit of truth:

Hebrews 1:1-3 (NIV)
       "In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, 2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. 3 The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven."

       Think about that. "The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being...". When you feel lost and confused, when you feel frustrated or helpless, and when you cannot seem to understand, look to the cross.
       With that in mind, over the next few weeks I am going to attempt to articulate a portion of my search for God. The ways in which i have struggled and the things I have learned. I'm not quite twenty years old. I haven't been to a single second of college and my high school career is most definitely nothing to brag about. I am not a preacher or a seminar student. I am not a smart person or a deep thinker. I'm inexperienced, uneducated, and not much of a theologian. I am a drop of water pondering the ocean. A lightbulb desperately trying to know the sun. But I believe God has given me a passion to learn and to share. So with one more deep breath, I'm off. Here we go.




Read Part 2 here:
on theology, calvinism, and my search for God (Part 2, Scratching the Itch)

on good music, good coffee, and good......clothes?

       I'm keeping it simple again this week. There are three organizations that I have recently become very fond of, making up two different minitries. I thought I would share them with you today. So if you are at all fond of rap music, coffee, dope clothing, or spreading the gospel, then check these ministries out.



Humble Beast Records

       Humble Beast is a music label that has been putting out fantastic rap music for years. A lot of my favorite artist work under this ministry. Propaganda, Eshon Bergundy, and Braille to name a few. All of the men and women who work with the organization are dedicated to glorifying God through excellence in art and the spreading of the gospel. But the one aspect of this community of creators that really sets them apart might surprise you. All of the music released through Humble Beast is released for free. Yes. Free. No strings attached. Their policy has always been to create to the best of their ability, and then give it away. To download any of their music, or to find out more about Humble Beast, check out www.humblebeast.com
Also I highly recommend checking out Eshon Burgundy's new album "The Fear of God". By far the best album I've heard in several years



Left Roasters

       Although not an entirely seperate organization, I am absolutely a HUGE fan of Left. They currently offer four coffee varieties, roasted fresh and delivered promptly. Not only is the coffee amazing (I've tried three of their four types, because what even is the point of decaf?), but Left is a division of Humble Beast. Purchasing their coffee will help support their ministy. Check them out at www.leftroasters.com (their Kochere is currently my favorite coffee)



Grateful Apparel

       Grateful is a clothing brand started by Raymond Rivera that centers around the idea that we as Christians have so much to constantly be grateful for. The brand supports a ministry called the 3Sixty House which is dedicated to helping recovering addicts get clean and find Christ. Raymond, the Grateful brand, and the 3Sixty Houses are dedicated to living out the great commision. To check out more about them, and the products you can buy to support them hit up www.gratefulapparel.com

on stopping to take a breath (and crying like a man).

       My life has been a whirlwind of time consuming obligations lately and, unfortunately, that means I've had to put my blog on the back burner for a while. Writing has always been my way of processing my thoughts and fleshing out my ideas and opinions, so I have definitely not stopped writing. It's the editing and refining process that takes time and has just not been as important to me as the other things going on in my life. I'm learning that I am one of those people who likes to take on everything I can, and as a result I tend to get overwhelmed by the sheer weight of all the things that I get involved in. And I love it. But occassionally I have to shave off some of the less important things in my life in order to check my stress levels and keep from getting too burned out. In short, sometimes I have to come up and take a breath before I dive back in.
       But for those of you who still follow this blog, I'm back! And hopefully for a while.  I have a number of posts I've been working on for a while, so brace yourselves!

       As for this week, I will keep it simple. I'm in the process of finishing up a book by Max Lucado that I have absolutely loved. It's a phenominal book that centers entirely around the crucifiction of Christ. If you are interested in reading this book you can find it here, or get ahold of me and I will find a way to get a copy of it into your hands.
       As I was getting ready to write this post I also just finished reading through a particularly powerful section of the book that I wanted to share. In part two of the book Max Lucado examines the cross from the point of view of it's witnesses. The last of those witnesses that he discusses are what he calls "miniature messengers".
     
       Here is that passage. Enjoy, and see you next tuesday!

       "Tears.

       Those tiny drops of humanity. Those round, wet
balls of fluid that tumble from our eyes, creep down our
cheeks, and splash on the floor of our hearts. They were
there that day. They are always present at such times. They
should be that’s their job. They are miniature messengers;
on call twenty-four hours a day to substitute for crippled
words. They drip, drop, and pour from the comer of our
souls, carrying with them the deepest emotions we pos-
sess. They tumble down our faces with announcements
that range from the most blissful joy to darkest despair.

       The principle is simple; when words are most
empty, tears are most apt.

       A tearstain on a letter says much more than the
sum of all its words. A tear falling on a casket says what a
spoken farewell never could. What summons a mother’s
compassion and concern more quickly than a tear on a
child’s cheek? What gives more support than a sympathe-
tic tear on the face of a friend?

       Words failed the day the Savior was slain. They
failed miserably. What words could have been uttered?
What phrases could have possibly expressed the feelings
of those involved?

       That task, my friend, was left for the tears.

       What do you do when words won’t come? When
all the nouns and verbs lay deflated at your feet, with what
do you communicate? When even the loftiest statements
stumble, what do you do? Are you one of the fortunate
who isn’t ashamed to let a tear take over? Can you be so
happy that your eyes water and your throat swells? Can
you be so proud that your pupils blur and your vision mists?
And in sorrow, do you let your tears decompress
that tight chest and untie that knot in your throat?

       Or do you reroute your tears and let them only
fall on the inside?

       Not many of us are good at showing our feelings,
you know. Especially us fellows. Oh, we can yell and curse
and smoke, yessir! But tears? “Save those for the weak-
kneed and timid. I’ve got a world to conquer!”

       We would do well, guys, to pause and look at the
tearstained faces that appear at the cross.

       Peter. The burly fisherman. Strong enough to
yank a full net out of the sea. Brave enough to weather the
toughest storm. The man who only hours before had
bared his sword against the entire Roman guard. But now
look at him. Weeping, no . . . wailing. Huddled in a corner
with his face hidden in his calloused hands. Would a real
man be doing this? Admitting his fault? Confessing his
failure? Begging forgiveness? Or would a real man bottle
it up . . . justify it. . . rationalize it. . . keep a “stiff upper
lip” and stand his ground. Has Peter lost his manhood?
We know better, don’t we. Maybe he’s less a man of the
world, but less a man of God? No way.

       And John, look at his tears. His face swollen with
sorrow as he stands eye-level with the bloody feet of his
Master. Is his emotion a lack of courage? Is his despair a
lack of guts?

       And the tears of Jesus. They came in the garden.
I'm sure they came on the cross. Are they a sign of weak-
ness? Do those stains on his cheeks mean he had no fire in
his belly or grit in his gut?

       Of course not.

       Here’s the point. It’s not just tears that are the
issue, it’s what they represent. They represent the heart,
the spirit, and the soul of a person. To put a lock and key
on your emotions is to bury part of your Christ-likeness!

       Especially when you come to Calvary.
You can’t go to the cross with just your head and
not your heart. It doesn’t work that way. Calvary is not a
mental trip. It’s not an intellectual exercise. It’s not a divine
calculation or a cold theological principle.
     
       It's a heart-splitting hour of emotion.

       Don’t walk away from it dry-eyed and unstirred.
Don’t just straighten your tie and clear your throat. Don’t
allow yourself to descend Calvary cool and collected.

       Please . . . pause. Look again.

       Those are nails in those hands.

       That’s God on that cross.

       It’s us who put him there.

       Peter knew it. John knew it. Mary knew it.

       They knew a great price was being paid. They
knew who really pierced his side. They also somehow
knew that history was being remade.

       That’s why they wept.

       They saw the Savior.

       God, may we never be so “educated,” may we
never be so “mature,” may we never be so “religious” that
we can see your passion without tears."

- Max Lucado, No Wonder They Call Him the Savior
pg. 106-108