WOOPS.....FAILED AGAIN.

I wish right now that I could tell you about my failing miserably at having a vegetable garden this past summer. For some reason, whether it be the cold spell we had in June for a few days, or the not so hot summer we encountered, my first real attempt at growing my own vegetables while living in the mountains was pretty much a colossal failure. Sure, I harvested  a few tomatoes and I actually got about 4 little zucchini's, but other than that: ZILCH. This has never happened to me before. My corn grew with husks about thigh high and then just quit. The green beans were probably all eaten by Riley, my hungry Black Lab. The cantelope, well, it just never appeared, although there were lots of leaves spreading everywhere. I will do my research for next year to see if I can do this.

I wish my failure had to do with my cooking fiasco's. Because I certainly have had plenty of them. My most memorable was a tuna casserole the first year we were married. Oh my, it was BAD. I mean really BAD. We still laugh about it whenever it is brought up again.

No my failure this time was brought to my attention this afternoon as I was reading the New Testament book of 2 John. Man, its a really short book and yet it pointed out a HUGE failure of mine. And not just mine, alot of failure in the American Church. One short sentence and I was stopped in my tracks. It is found in the second part of verse five.
                   "I ask that we love one another."

That sounds easy enough, right?
Oh, but boy have I failed and probably you too have missed the mark here as well.

LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
I certainly don't do that when I complain about Mark Driscoll and his view of woman in leadership. I don't know this man and yet I admit I have maligned him plenty.

I don't love one another when I gossip about someone.
I don't love one another when I judge others who are different than me; who hold different views than me.
I don't love one another when I am jealous that you have more than me.
I don't love one another when I criticize the church. And the people or leaders involved.

I remember the chorus of a praise song from years back that said: "they will know we are Christians by our love".
Yikes, I don't think that holds true very much.
What about the churches that condemn homosexuality? That repeatedly call gay people sinners and make them feel most unwelcome. Are we loving them by our words and actions? I don't think so. Many of the gay population wouldn't ever opt to enter the doors of any church because of what we have done to them. Made them feel like second class citizens because we don't condone their particular sin. And yet I am welcome at church because I am a white woman. But I often have terrible thoughts. I often judge others. I can be materialistic at times when I often want "stuff" that I really don't need.
I guess I believe that homosexuals are experiencing what the Black population has long experienced in America. And this breaks my heart in ways I can't even describe.

I recently finished a book by Nadia Bolz Weber called "Pastrix".
I recommend this book heartily. But I am somewhat afraid to because she swears alot in the book. She drops the F bomb frequently. I was never offended by her words because she was very very real. And Honest. And vulnerable. But my friends might be offended because of her language. 
No one would be offended by her heart. She is a Lutheran pastor in Denver who welcomes homosexuals, drug addicts, homeless people, and yet would welcome me and you. I would have a major dilemna if I lived in Denver. I would want to attend her church. I would also love to attend Kathy Escobar's church called "the Refuge", a church home where anyone feels welcome. Both of these churches are loving people exactly for who they are, and where they are at this stage in their lives
They are loving people the way Jesus would love them. Accepting them, encouraging them, offering help as they can, and all the while pointing them to the Savior of their lives. THE ONE who can transform brokenness into wholeness, He who turns ashes into beauty.

It really has me thinking. 
I am accepted in most any church because of what I look like.
But if people knew the "real" me, would they just as easily welcome me? Would they want me to be a part of their church if they knew the brokenness I carried, the sins I have committed, the thoughts that I think. My "true self" is often hidden. People can't see my sins all the time and yet I can promise you, they are there.

The gays, the homeless, the drug addicts, the pimps, the schemers, the people who seek to fraud us, the down and outers-their so called sins sometimes are so visible to us and most of the time, we tend to shy away from them. Or even flee from them like they are the plague. 

I ask that we love one another.

Something that often seems like an impossibility, is possible when we look to the ONE who has loved us with complete abandon. The ONE who loves us and really knows the true us and yet accepts us just as we are.

Oh LORD, forgive me for failing to love as you have asked.
I too, am a sinner. 
One who has experienced your unending grace and unconditional love. And your forgivenes.
I am grateful that you keep showing me how I need to change. And that you love me just where I am.

Here I go again

Again? Really? Will I ever get over it? Hopefully NOT.

This is Passion Week and as has been my custom for umpteen years, I spend Tuesday thru Friday reading the Gospel accounts of Jesus' last 24 hours on earth.

Pretending that I am an organized, efficient person, I start with Matthew. After all, it is the first book of the New Testament. And to  no suprise, I then tackle Mark, Luke and finally John.

This morning I began by looking at three places where Jesus told His disciples what was going to happen. He literally said in Matthew 16:21, 17:22-23 and in chapter 20:18-19 that He was going to Jerusalem to be crucified and would rise again.  Do you think the apostles didn't hear Him? Or perhaps they weren't sure of who this Son of Man was? Did they purposely forget it? Whatever the case, they were warned.

Matthew 26 and 27 tells us the horrific story. But first Jesus spends one last meal with His disciples celebrating the Passover. This is probably the holiest day of the Jewish year as they were commanded to remember how GOD spared His people from the destruction He sent over the Egyptians. In case you don't know this story, Moses instructed the Jewish people to get a one year old lamb and they were to slaughter it, roast it and then eat it (along with some bitter herbs and bread without yeast in it). They were to sprinkle the lamb's blood over the doorposts of their home which would signify that they belonged to the LORD, and at midnight, the angel of the LORD "passed over" their houses sparing them the loss of their first born child and animals. This angel took the life of every first born in Egypt.

Celebrating this event was a BIG DEAL and Jesus would not miss the opportunity to be with His closest friends remembering the LORD's provision of the Israelite community. It was at this, His Last Supper, that Jesus broke bread and gave thanks and gave it to His disciples and said : "Take and eat, this is my body". Another hint. 
 Immediately He took the cup of wine and offered it to them and said : " Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the Covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.". The significance would not be lost on His followers in days, weeks and thousands of years to come.

Oh LORD JESUS, You are the sacrifical Lamb, poured out for ALL of us. Your life and blood, You sacrificed so that our sins would be taken care of...ONCE and FOR ALL.

Our sins have been "passed over" because of what You did for us.
Was it easy? NO WAY.
In fact, Jesus knew how difficult it was going to be and in anguish cried out to His Father : "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from Me. Yet not as I will , but as you will." And He said this not once but three times.
Being fully God, He knew what was coming, but being fully human, Jesus knew the agony, the pain and the death He would be facing, and wanted out.
(who wouldn't want out of this?). 

In a series of bogus, trumped up charges, Jesus was sentenced to crucifixion.  Now begins the part of the story that gets me everytime. Any and every time I think about what Jesus Christ did for me, suffered for me, I get shivers and my eyes well with tears.
A sampling of what is written:

"they bound Him, led Him away and handed Him over to Pilate"

"But he (Pilate) had Jeus floggend and handed Him over to be crucified"

"then they spit in His face and struck Him with their fists. Others slapped Him."

"After they had mocked Him, they led Hm away to crucify Him."  

Oh LORD JESUS, how could they have done this to You?
They spit on you. To me, spitting on someone is the most degrading thing one person could do to another, and here are these Roman soldiers who get a kick out of doing this to the Savior of the world.
They also struck this King of Glory with their fists and slapped Him. 
Lest I pass judgement on these men, I realize that I did this to Jesus too. Every single person who has ever lived, has somehow insulted this spotless Lamb of God.
I know, we weren't there and we didn't spit on Him, hit him, flog Him or slap Him personally, but our selfishness, our rebellion, our stubborn pride (and by our, I really mean "my") have struck Jesus and hurt Him.
And the result of all this? Jesus was nailed to the Cross, became thoroughly dehydrated, suffocated and eventually died. In His worst moment ever, He was alone. Even His Father could not look at the disgusting garbage dump His Son had become as He took on the sins of the entire humanity of the world.

Jesus cried out : "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
When He realized that His own Father would not come to His rescue, "He gave up His spirit".

The GOD of our universe and all creation, all alone. Crushed by the heaviness of mankind's sins, Jesus is left to die.

Why?
Because He knew it was THE ONLY WAY, we could ever have a relationship again with His Father.

"Amazing LOVE, how can it be, that thou my God should die for me".

I am visibly shaken knowing that I am the one who flogged Him, who spit on His face, who struck Him and slapped Him. My sins nailed Him to the Cross.
This kind of love is so absolutely hard to fathom. I can't even get my head around it . I am awed, humbled and ever so grateful for His Love for me-and for you. We certainly don't deserve it, we've done nothing that merits this amazing love and yet we are  forgiven and bathed in His Love and Grace.

This week called Passion Week should initiate such a passion filled response to His love, that we become and long to be, those who would show the world this amazing, loving , grace filled God. That all may begin to know and understand how passionate He is in pursuing us.

Thanks be to God!!!