First Impressions

“When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one.” Revelation 1:17, 18

When I opened my email this morning and read this daily reading, my initial thought was, well here is another fearsome quote from John’s revelation.  And indeed, when you read bits and pieces of Revelation, and almost any other snippet of Scripture I suppose, it is easy to get first wrong impressions. 

And while first impressions can be telling, they are not always the best measure of truth. So when you read “When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.” Well, it’s easy to gat a wrong first impression.

Yes, Revelation is a book filled with vivid imagery and stern warnings - all of which are to be taken seriously. But the ultimate context is that John was sharing his Revelation to a struggling people called “The Way” or, as we might call it now, “The Church.”  And in the midst of their struggles and persecutions, Revelation is a book of hope and promise.

So, I read this, and yes, I understand.  I look forward for the day I meet Jesus face to face. And I imagine, my first response is likely to be falling at his feet as though dead. When I come face to face with such pure holiness, I will be confronted with my lack of holiness. And down I will go.

Until….

“Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one.”

And first impressions get altered.

Jesus is a lot of things. He is truth. He is just. He is life. He is the way. He is King. You can add more and more to that list. But scripture is also very clear. He is love.

Here’s my take away this early morning. If you are in Christ, then ‘fear not.’  You are secure. The One who is everything (“the first and the last, and the living one”) loudly proclaims “Fear not.”  Well, at least in my mind, is loudly proclaimed.

In those words I hear, “No matter what is going on, it will be well. I am here, and I know my people.”

It why, in midst or horrible personal tragedy, Horatio Spafford could write words like,

            “Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

            Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,

            And hath shed His own blood for my soul.”

Fear not. And don’t live on first impressions….

Here is a link to my favorite version of the Horatio Spafford classic…..

IT IS WELL - JARS OF CLAY

Extremes

"Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise." James 5:13

I belong to a strain of the church that is sometimes jokingly (well, maybe its a joke) referred to as 'God's frozen chosen.' But after an emotional, but not bad day yesterday spent with a suffering friend, and anticipating another day I pray is filled with more cheerful emotions, I'm reminded that the moniker given to us Presbyterians while too often reflecting truth, is not what God wants from his people. Life will be filled with extremes, and stoicism isn't always the best reaction to them.

The apostle Paul when describing the Christian life in Romans 12:15 says we are to "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." Can't help but believe we are to live life to the fullest; and such fullness includes weeping and rejoicing. And, I strongly suspect, Jesus knows all about those extremes. We know, when reading the gospels, Jesus wept. I suspect he laughed as well also. Certainly some of his sermon illustrations seem humorous to me.

On this Lord's day, acknowledge, as you would any other day, what life has given to you. The good...the bad... And don't be afraid to call it out for what it is.

But do remember that the Lord is with you in all of this. In all of it.

Have a great Lord's day everyone!

Friend

"A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24

Steve was one of the more interesting characters I had the opportunity to meet through my travels in life. The year was 1975 or so when he meandered into the massive studios of KSAK (90.1 – Walnut, California), where I, along with a handful of other misfits, were in the process of creating bonds that were to last a lifetime. And also learning a bit about the radio business in that overgrown closet we called a radio station.

Steve was this odd mix of kindness, naivety, and intellect. And, partially because he chose to imbibe in things that I was afraid to touch, we were never that close back in those lost days…and then he became a bit of a distant, but not bad, memory as life marched on….

Until…

Facebook.

I received a friend request from him some eight years ago. Steve, like me, was no longer in Southern California. He was managing some properties that his parents owned in Florida. This, after him kicking around in the music business in and around L.A for too many years. An immediate connection ensued; he sent me a copy of his CD of original music he had recorded a few years earlier (he played a great 12 string). In return, we started engaging in long Facebook message conversations about spiritual things. Honestly, he knew more Bible than I, and was quick to issue and respond to challenges about it. He didn’t mind receiving standard answers, but always wanted to know how the standard answers came about. He wanted to comprehend the reasoning behind those solutions to the challenges. If, for instance, “Jesus laid down His life for the sheep" (John 10:11), he wanted to know why Jesus would do that and why would he call us sheep?

Facebook conversations turned into phone conversations. By 2015, those conversations (by call or text) became almost a weekly event. Long conversations when his beloved mother died a couple of years ago were difficult; his heart was aching. Steve never married, and was living alone. I almost went down to Florida to do the service for her, but logistics were difficult at the time. I suggested finding to a Navy chaplain and who did the service for her; he was so happy about that.

When Susie and I journeyed down to Florida 18 months ago, one of the stops I insisted on was meeting up with Steve for lunch near his home. And the growing friendship was cemented. As we left the restaurant, Steve and I agreed to not let 40 years pass before we met up again.

Sigh….

Friday evening Steve texted me that he was terribly sick and that he needed prayer. A few more texts went back and forth; I was rather amazed that he hadn’t been admitted into a hospital. I promised to pray for him, and certainly I did.

Sunday morning, before the worship service at the church I pastor, I texted him to see how he was doing. After an afternoon service I lead at an assisted living center, I gave him a call. Like the earlier text, there was no response.

A quizzical post on Facebook by a relative of his, and then a phone call from Florida. A friend of Steve’s calling to let me know that Steve had died earlier in the day.

I was crushed. Susie and I shared a few hugs and tears. I’m not sure why, but this has hit harder than I would have imagined. There was such a deepness to his naivety and intellect, and sincerity in his caring and searching. And he had become a cherished friend.

In a phone call two months ago, Steve shared that he had finally found a church (an independent congregation) that spoke to his inquisitiveness without insulting his intelligence. He found a home.

Stephen, Jesus laid down his life for sheep like you and I because of His love; and he calls you this because a sheep always knows the shepherd’s voice (John 10:27). You knew His voice, of this I’m certain. And you are now experiencing this truth first hand. For that, I am grateful.

Friends, this morning my heart is aching. This hurts.

But I do not hurt without hope. Thank you, Stephen Barker, for the friendship.

Until we meet again.....

Heather's Story

The following was written by a Facebook friend of mine, a strong Catholic believer. This is not my story, but this is Heather's story. It may be the most important story I've read in a long time. With her permission, I share it here.

As my friend Allan said, "If you are celebrating the YES vote in Ireland, you are saying that my life doesn't matter..."

This is my story. 

 At 14 years old, my Mom conceived me, although, she had no idea she was pregnant with me until she was 5 months into her pregnancy. Of course, I wasn't planned, but still, she had told me that abortion didn't even cross her mind, and that she knew, "Life was going to change in a big way, and that was okay."

I was born on August 8th, two weeks before that, my Dad was murdered. At the time of my birth, my Mom was 15. She was forced to drop out of school to be able to work two jobs, in order to raise me. ( My grandparents helped her by taking care of me while she was working.) The timing of my conception was horrible. I was born into absolute chaos... but I was born. Not aborted.

My brother was born when my Mom was 17 almost 18, and he was a special needs baby. He didn't have a specific diagnosis, other than having fluid on his brain, and stones in his stomach. They just said he is developmentally delayed. He will be 28 this summer, in 2018, but he's mentally 14 or so. I think it's more than just the mental aspect, but doctors do not agree, he has had endless surgeries, and he almost died twice, once from the surgery as an infant, and once from a severe sinus infection that went to his brain in 2006...but he is here... yet, she knew something was going on when he was still in the womb. She knew the challenges that were about to come, and she was trying to care for a 1 1/2 year old... but he was born. Not aborted.

My sister was born in 1992. She was conceived as a twin, but my Mom had miscarried the boy. His name was Anthony. This was an early term miscarriage, but she still had my sister. At this time, she had a son that was in and out of the hospital, a daughter who was beginning kindergarten, and all the while, she was mourning a miscarriage ... but my sister was born. Not aborted.

My Mom knew she had a choice, and I thank her for deciding to give us all a chance at life. Even as a young teenager, who did not (and still doesn't) practice religion, although she does believe in God; she knew that you couldn't put a price on life, and she knew we all deserved a chance.

My brother and I were not planned. My sister was, but she was born just a little sooner than my mom had intended.

A baby born, whose dad was just brutally murdered at 18 years old. A baby born with high medical needs, and special needs. A baby born sooner than expected, as a twin with her brother not making it...

This is a prime example of why people claim that abortion is necessary. I want you to tell me why YOU think abortion is necessary... Tell me how a young girl grasps the pro-life concept, never having been taught one way or the other. How do grown adults not understand the value of life?

My Mom's mom, whom I call Nana, God rest her sweet soul; she had given birth to 6 children, 2 of which were born out of wedlock. She was sent away to a Catholic home for unwed mothers in Wyoming. She decided to give both of her sons up for adoption, and kept all four of her daughters. She had a choice to abort the babies, since a child out of wedlock at that time was seen as an abomination, but she didn't. She was ridiculed, judged, and frowned upon, which is why she was sent away. Her mother was ashamed of her, but Nana still chose life. She chose adoption.

All 3 of us were perfect cases for abortion. "Too young" "Hasn't gotten life figured out yet" "Whoops" "Special needs" "Born too soon with already having a high medical need child" "Life is hard".... only, these are not reasons to abort. No reason is. Some people say, "If I don't get an abortion, my baby will be a ward of the state, and he/she will be in the system their whole life." That's not true. My mom's bestfriend had adopted her youngest. My sister's preschool teacher, who became a family friend, has adopted numerous children from around the world, including the ones who were given up because they had special needs.

A baby is a baby from the moment of conception, it is not a clump of cells. It is not just a fetus, it is a human life, and it is wrong to murder your children. If a 14 year old girl can understand that, so can everyone else in the world. "Just because you can't hear them scream, doesn't mean they don't."

There is ALWAYS another option besides abortion. If you cannot love your baby, someone else will. ♡

Thank you for reading my story...I will leave you with one more thought:

“We must not be surprised when we hear of murders, of killings, of wars, of hatred. If a mother can kill her own child, what is left but for us to kill each other.”
                                                                                                          - Mother Theresa

Thank you Heather, you are a blessing.