Lunatic (Day 25 of Lent)

I have this friend Ricky who lives in New Mexico and works on an organic farm.  My story with Ricky reaches back about ten years though.  Ever since I've known him, he's been an inspiration to me in what it looks like to practice what I preach.  He wasn't always an inspiration though.  About five years ago, he started going off on tangents about how things just aren't the way they're supposed to be.  He went down a dark tunnel of the soul, and found that he was distancing himself from his friends, his church, and his family.  He believed in Jesus and he loved him with everything he could muster, but couldn't see how the people around him, including myself, were so blind to the darkness around us.  He started doing a ton of research on things like capitalism, free market economies, organic farming, sex trafficking, and fair trade.  He started questioning the status quo of Christianity and found himself going down a rabbit trail, afraid he would never find his way out.  He began devoting every essence of his being to manifesting what he believed in, and he fought for it.  He didn't fight for it through politics or street protests, but fought for it in relationships and taking up practices that resonated with his beliefs.  He grew stuff.  He worked at a local smoothie store that used fruit from the community garden that he helped start.  He played music with local talents.  He invited people into his home to experience community and organic living.  

Ricky had lost me long before he began practicing all these things.  I thought he was crazy that he thought it was a good idea to see capitalism and the government overthrown.  I thought he was crazy for searching for truth outside of sound Christian doctrine.  He was losing his mind, and there's no way I was going to let him take him down with me.  One day, I asked him to send me an email explaining what exactly he was doing.  He did, and I read it.  

It was hard to swallow.  I felt like my faith was being shaken.  The email he sent me was threatening all of the beliefs that I had held so strongly.  What was most amazing out of all of it was the amount of energy and tangible outpouring he was devoting to this rearrangement of beliefs.  The reason the email was so threatening was, he was challenging me to join with him in dropping everything I was doing and go to Puerto Rico to buy a plot of land.  He not only wanted to recreate life as we knew it, but wanted to create a life that pointed back to the garden.  

In today's passage for Lent, Jesus is quickly becoming Jerusalem's most notorious lunatic in the eyes of the Jews.  He's claiming that he is the Son of God, that he's been around long before Abraham, and that "if we practice what he tells us we won't have to ever stare death in the face again."  

The Jews obviously think he's crazy, considering Jesus is less than fifty years old, yet claims that Abraham saw him thousands of years prior.  They ask, "If Abraham died as well as all the prophets, what makes you think that we can beat death?  You're nuts man!"  

The Jews get so angry that their beliefs are getting threatened that they begin picking up rocks to throw.  They're ready to cleanse the temple of the obvious slander, but Jesus manages to slip out unharmed.  

Not too long ago, the institution of slavery in America was accepted my nearly everyone, even the Church.  Slavery was accepted as a necessary evil.  It was morally and socially acceptable until a voice of change became loud enough to convince everyone that slavery was wrong.  

Jesus continues to challenge the status quo of not only Judaism in Jerusalem, but wherever the religious arm has stretched over the world.  Death is a very important topic for the Jews, and they believe that they're religious practices are saving them from having to face it.  Day after day, they abide by Jewish law trying to become more and more moral and less prone to death.  Death lingers like a black cloud over everything, waiting to find its target.  For the Jews, death by stoning is a very common practice for anybody who breaks the big laws like adultery, stealing, or idolatry.  

Jesus is saying here that the Jews never have to look death in the face again.  They never have to experience death as a result of breaking the law.  They never have to wonder if the black cloud of death will rain on them eventually.  But what Jesus is saying is not enough to convince that the traditions need to take a back seat.  Even with the possibility of not having to live under the same tyranny, they choose death over life.  

As Americans, we also live under a set of laws.  We have been told since we were children, that we can't be left to our own thoughts and motives.  Therefore, the government steps in and creates laws that "bind" us from doing what we want to do.  We have been indoctrinated with this idea that unless we are confined, the total of our intentions will always equal evil.  

I don't believe the Jews trust themselves enough to think that they could possibly experience real life by letting go of their rules and regulations.  Isn't this true of us today?  Do we really believe that if we start following the voice inside us that brings up these seemingly crazy ideas, that we will find death?  

Jesus is inviting the Jews in this passage to never even taste death again.  It's absurd and makes no sense to them because all they know is the law.  He's telling them that if they do what he tells them to do, they will not have to experience death again.  Honestly, if he were sitting in the Starbucks that I'm in right now, I would have a prideful smirk on my face waiting for the punchline.  Unfortunately, I think he would provide great entertainment, but not much more than that.  

I've tossed and turned the idea of death in my head for awhile, both physical death and spiritual.  I can't fathom the afterlife and I'm not willing to pontificate about it here.  What I will say is this:  I believe that when I practice what Jesus teaches, no matter how crazy someone thinks I am, I find life to the fullest.  There is nothing else under the sun that I've found that gives me what I experience when I take just one thing he says and do it.  The simplest way I know how to take all this writing and make it make sense is to constantly ask myself, "How much freedom do you want?"  If I want more freedom, I open the Bible, find out what it means to me and not what it means to mainstream religion, and then I do it.  It's that simple.  Along the way, I lose my prejudices against the people I once considered wrong and start viewing them as people just like me, trying to figure out how to get more freedom.  

We are invited to opt out of the systematic way of thinking that says, "You can't be trusted with your motives.  You are inherently evil," and are invited into the journey of finding out for ourselves what Jesus is saying, and not what others say he says.  When we find out what he's saying, we figure out what it looks like to put it to action - not everyone else's action, but our own action.  We begin to find that the same heartbeat that the world was telling us couldn't be trusted, is the same heartbeat that leads us to lasting life, one in which we don't have to constantly stare death in the face.      

Today's Action:  Today we will do three actions to help someone else's day go better.  We will do them in secret to make sure we're not doing them to feed our egos.  

Transient (Day 24 of Lent)

As an American, I connect the idea of slavery with movies like Django Unchained and Lincoln.  I think of the 27 million women and children around the world who are stuck as pawns in the heartless scheme of sex trafficking.  I think of one person oppressing another, or one person oppressing many, like Kony or Hitler.  It's easy to stop there when I think of slavery.  

In John chapter eight, Jesus is talking to some Jews and they don't understand what he means by "the truth will set you free."  The Jews, just like me, were never slaves to anyone.  Judaism came into existence after the Israelites were freed from the oppressive grip of Egypt.  From the time of Egyptian oppression on though, the Israelites created their own form of slavery and oppression.  

Jesus responds to their defense with, "I tell you that anyone who chooses a life of sin chooses a dead-end life, and they, in fact are slaves.  Slaves are transient, and cannot come and go at will.  You say your father was Abraham, but you are secretly plotting to kill me.  If you knew God you would love me because I, just like Abraham, am telling you the truth that God has given me."  

A transient is someone who travels in and out of existence.  They're here one day, and gone another.  They're "alive" one moment and "dead" in the next.  What does slavery really mean if the oppressor is not a person?  

When I get into bed at night, I like to get on the computer and catch up on the day's news, check Facebook, check my emails, and then get onto a website I love.  This website is a free exchange of information, and anyone can post something as long as it follows certain rules.  While there is a ton of interesting information and stories, there is a ton of pornography.  Depending on how "prayed up I am," I am one click away from looking at pictures that fill my mind with fantasy.  In one instant, I can erase everything that is real and true, and delve into an existence that is completely based on sexual pleasure.  It's an existence that invites me into chasing after things that only exist in my mind. There have been times when I've jumped into this existence for hours, scrolling through picture after picture, trying to squeeze out every bit of emotional fantasy that I can possibly attain.  I usually lock the door of my house too, and shut myself in my room.  I have this fear that someone may walk in at any moment if my door's not locked and catch me.  When I choose to live in this existence, I am not free to come and go at will.  I am enslaved.  I am heading down a dead-end street that's lined with beautiful blossoming trees.  I am convinced that I'm going to a place of beauty, but I'm actually being traded off and sold and purchased by the voice of a liar.  

Most days, I enjoy mental, physical, and spiritual freedom.  I have the ability to make decisions and to go and do whatever I want to.  I've been blessed with the ability to pursue my deepest desires, and to stay true to my heart's passions.  I sense a connection with God that drives me.  There's hardly a moment that goes by that I don't believe in God's presence.  In this existence, I'm free.  I'm free to love and to be loved.  When I choose to live in the existence of freedom, I tend to think more about others.  I'm awake to the needs around me.  I notice people.  I listen better.  

Slavery, in the sense that Jesus is talking about, means jumping in and out of two opposing existences:  freedom and bondage.  On the days that I don't give a second thought to needing help from a power greater than myself, I choose bondage.  On the days that I realize that I need help from God, I choose freedom.  "Living a life of sin" does not mean that someone is born with this innate desire to kill people or steal, nor does it mean that freedom is nonexistent.  On the contrary, living a life of freedom does not mean that there are some people who are perfect while the rest of us have to suffer at the hands of our own demons.  Bondage and freedom are constantly bumping up against each other in the day to day, moment to moment, journey of life.  We choose life in one moment, and death in the next - heaven one minute and hell the next.

While most of us do not know what it's like to be oppressed by someone, we know what it's like to be oppressed by something.  I would venture to say that our very existence is threaded through with the constant tension between slavery and freedom.  So what do we do?

There is hope.  The beautiful part about stories of slavery is rescue.  With rescue comes grace unlimited.  If you've ever heard any stories of girls who are rescued from sex trafficking, it is a known fact that a lot of these girls find the temptation to go back to the brothel they came from very hard to resist.  They have been implanted with this idea that their worth is found in how they please men with sex.  When they are removed from that existence, they don't know how to function or live on their own.  Knowing this, organizations that are committed to combating sex trafficking set up safe houses for the rescued women.  In these safe places, the women are being restored.  They are being shown where there worth is truly found.  The voice of the liar is constantly whispering, "You need to go back, you need to go back.  How will you live without it?"  And some do go back.  But, they've found rescue and they know  where to go to find it again.  

As I journey through my own existence in the struggle between slavery and freedom, I believe that rescue has come.  Jesus claims that he is the way, the truth, and the life.  He makes sense to slaves like me.  Although I fall down over and over again, I believe deep in the core of my being that there is freedom to be grasped.  There will never be enough of it.  Although I choose slavery some days and freedom others, I believe rescue has come, is coming, and will always come.  Without God, my slavery is a dead end road.  I am doomed to an existence that tells me there is no hope.  I am left to beating myself up every time I give in to my desires to live in fantasy.  Since I am failing God, I have to become my own God, but I in fact become my own oppressor.  I become my judge and my teacher, and I set standards for myself that appear feasible but are nowhere within reach.  

Grace gives me the ability to acknowledge that I'm a fuck up, and to realize that my Rescue is always at arm's length.  It enables me to focus on attaining more freedom and experiencing more life.  It enables me to give myself grace in the moments that I fail my lofty standards, and believe in a God who became a slave unto death in order that I may receive life to the fullest.  

Today's action:  Today we will find a place to be alone for a few minutes.  We will stand tall, feet slightly apart, hands held open, and chest high.  We will say a prayer of thanks for rescue from oppression.  Then we will listen.  

Horizons (Day 23 of Lent)

For nearly sixteen years, I suffered from depression.  Very rarely would I wake up in the morning and be excited about facing the day.  On top of that, I drank dangerously.  It was my way of combating the depression, even though the alcohol was causing much more damage.  Eventually, I lost the ability to stay away from alcohol, much less figure out what was wrong with my mind.  Some of the things I experienced with depression were:  feeling very lonely regardless of how many people were around, not being able to be grateful, feeling like my problems were constantly piling up on me with no way to fix them, and feeling an extreme sense of doom and hopelessness.  I was convinced that life would be this way forever.  I tried to train myself to be okay with it, and just to keep floating along trying not to hurt myself or anybody else in the process.  The alcohol problem became so bad that it kind of took my mind off the depression.  It turned out I had much bigger fish to fry.  If depression wasn't going to kill me, alcohol surely was.  God knows I had enough close calls with the late night drunk driving and the blackouts.  
I was in a place where I couldn't imagine life with or without alcohol or depression.  I was stuck.  I had nowhere to turn, no hope, and especially no outlook on life that provided any sense of satisfaction.  
In John chapter eight, Jesus talks about how we live based off of what we see and touch, but he doesn't live that way.  He says he's in touch with things beyond what we can grasp, things beyond our horizons.  In closing, he says the oft quoted line, "If you live this way, you'll experience the truth for yourself, and the truth will set you free."  He is talking to the Jews, referring to the near future when they will "raise the Son of Man and know."  The audience had no idea what was coming.  All their systems and laws and ways of doing things were based on the belief that hope had not arrived yet, that the Messiah was yet to come.  If they could just follow the law as closely as possible, they would be okay when the Messiah did come.  Jesus wanted so badly for them to open their eyes to the truth, but lets just face it.  All they had was his word up to this point.  But, Jesus was foretelling their future.  If we skip forward to Jesus on the cross and the resurrection, we find that many Jews finally found the truth.  They saw Jesus die.  They saw the empty tomb.  They were freed from binding themselves with endless laws and self-constraint.  
If the truth sets us free, then how do we get it?  
I haven't taken a drink or any other mind-altering substance in over three years, and I haven't dealt with depression in over two years.  Something caused these changes of events.  Something was at work.  Something set me free.  The problem is I can't see the inner workings of my mind, the physical and mental effects of alcohol on the body and brain, and I can't see what kind of spiritual behind the scenes work is going on.  But, the truth is, what was true for so many years is not true anymore.  It has been replaced with the truth that I never have to take another drink again, and I never have to face depression again.  I have been set free from a seemingly hopeless and binding state of mind, body, and spirit.  
What does believing in Jesus have to do with any of this?  For me, shame was the number one contributor to why I ever took a drink in the first place and to why my mind told me that I was a waste of flesh.  It wasn't until I got to the end of me, that the only thing I had left was to believe that shame wasn't supposed to be the driving force in life.  Freedom was supposed to be, but how was I to attain this freedom?  Honestly, I wish I could lay out the answer, but I think the answer was embedded in the mess of despair.  It wasn't until I got so hopeless and so shameful and so desperate that I found the answer.  It was grace.  Somehow, I got a glimpse of the possibility that my mind was against me, and that it had convinced me that God was an angry loan shark waiting to break my leg for all the bad stuff I'd done.  Jesus was a good story and that was about it.  
It wasn't until I heard stories from people I had never met, who weren't you're average churchgoing folks.  They were putting words to what I was feeling and experiencing.  They were telling my story.  They were giving me hope.  They were telling of a God who wasn't a loan shark, but a compassionate, loving, and inclusive God.  This opened my eyes.  How had I been so closed off to this concept?  At this retreat, on the final day, a man giving a talk on a Sunday morning invited everyone to "leave your fear in the woods."  I did just that.  I walked out into the woods, crying and pitiful, and for the first time told God I wasn't afraid of him anymore.  My truth changed.  I left that wilderness with a new lease on life.  I experienced a new way of thinking, which affected what I did - truth.  The way I believed started affecting the way that I saw, touched, heard, and tasted.  I was set free, I am set free, and I will continue to chase after freedom.  

Media (Day 22 of Lent)

If you've followed any of the news sources lately, here are some topics that have been on the agenda:  drones are flying over the U.S., Hugo Chavez just died, $85 billion in spending cuts, gun control debates, uprisings in Syria, and a U.S. ambassador to Libya murdered.  The radio, television, and Internet provide us with this news, and any of us can turn on either of these media outlets to find out more.  There's just one problem though.  Even though I can see pictures of U.S. drones hovering somewhere out in the sky, and I can hear the president give condolences to the family of Hugo Chavez, and I can hear radio broadcasters talk about the scandal going on with Libya, how do I know this is all true?  

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was turn off my alarm.  By sliding a button across the top, somehow the blaring broadcast of 740 turns off.  I hear and then I don't hear the voice of the morning radio personality.  

Then, I flip a switch on the wall.  Somehow, light fills up the room.  It was dark, but somehow the flip of a switch produced something that wasn't there before.  

Every moment of every day, we are bombarded with pictures and sounds pointing us to things that are beyond our physical presence and experience.  We are left to use our imagination and logical inference.  With these two combined, we make judgments based on the "facts."  If something seems true, then we call it true.  If the media tells us that drones are flying over the U.S. and might be used on American citizens, we use our logic and our imagination to make judgments based on what we hear.  

In today's passage for Lent, Jesus is talking with some Pharisees in the temple.  The conversation is very interesting because, it reminds me of how similar I am to them.  Jesus opens the speech with the claim that he is "the light of the world, and that no one who believes in him stumbles around in the darkness."  The Pharisees object.  All they have is Jesus's word on this.  In other words, how are they supposed to accept this as true if all they have is his word?  

In a response that makes perfect sense, Jesus tells them they're right.  All they have is his word.  And, all we have is his word.  Jesus reminds the Pharisees that they make judgments based off what they can see and touch.  However, Jesus says he doesn't make judgments out of the narrowness of his experience.  He makes judgments out of the "largeness of the Father who sent me."  

According to Jewish law, something is considered true when there is a testimony from two witnesses.  Jesus is claiming that he has the testimony of God to back up his word, and Jewish law takes verbal contracts just as seriously as written contracts.  The problem for the Pharisees is, they can't see the Father.  They don't see the second witness.  Then, Jesus says something very mysterious.  "You're looking right at me and you don't see me.  How do you expect to see the Father?  If you knew me, you would at the same time know the Father."  

If this was complicated for the Pharisees, then it's extremely complicated for us.  First of all, we don't even have the luxury as the Pharisees did that day to see Jesus.  They were talking with him face to face.  If they were looking right at him and not seeing him, then we are not looking right at him and not seeing him, right?  "How could we expect to see God if we can't see Jesus?  If we knew Jesus, we would at the same time know the Father."  

Now that Jesus has completely baffled us and basically told us that we have no chance of seeing the Father, we have to go back to the beginning.  "No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness."  Of course, they're are actual people following him physically, just like we would if we were roadies with a band.  We would physically be present.  "I provide plenty of light to live in."  

If you're completely confused to this point, good.  I believe the whole point Jesus is trying to make with the Pharisees in this passage is that he's not asking anyone to prove anything.  He's not expecting the Pharisees to have tangible evidence for these claims that Jesus is making.  Just like we can't see, touch, or hear what's going on in order for the light to come on after the switch is moved, the Pharisees (or us) can't see, touch, or hear the light of Jesus.  The Pharisees could even see Jesus physically and his word wasn't enough.  So, what does it mean for us who have no physical qualities of Jesus to experience?  

I think Jesus is presenting the case that what we believe directly affects how we live.  He tells us that he is the light of the world, and that when we follow him we have plenty of light to live in.  I think often times we're much too hard on ourselves when it comes to "right belief."  And, how often do we consider something that we've heard from secondhand sources or seen in photographs as true?  

What Jesus is essentially saying in this passage is, "I know that you need to be able to touch something and see it to accept it as true.  That's okay.  I don't do it that way, but I've also got this Son of God thing going on.  What I want you to work on is believing in me.  I promise, believing is enough.  You will discover things that will blow your mind."  

Jesus invites us to believe his word, not to prove it.  He knows we can't prove it, and also knows that we would really like to enjoy some sensual experience with God.  Wouldn't that be nice?  

My opinion is that belief doesn't have to be right.  It just has to be honest.  Jesus invites us to be okay with not having the facts.  He invites us into the possibility of somehow experiencing "light" through believing in him.  All we have are words on a page.  Is that enough?  

Come (Day 21 of Lent)

During the Feast of Tabernacles, in which we find the context of today's passage for Lent, it is customary for a special priest to carry water in a gold pitcher from the pool of Siloam to be poured into a basin at the foot of the altar by the high priest.  It symbolizes prayer for rain, and on the "last great day" of the festival, the day in which Jesus speaks in this passage, the priests march around the altar seven times carrying willow branches.  On the seventh circuit around the altar the priests beat their willow branches until the leaves fall off. The high priest pours out the water while some priests blow gold trumpets, while others sing songs.  

It's at the climax of this ceremony that Jesus cries out, "If anyone is thirsty, come to me.  Anyone who believes in me will find rivers of living water brimming and spilling out from his heart."

As the Jewish people continued their centuries-long traditions, Jesus claims that he is the living water.  One of the aspects that the festival symbolizes is the need for rain in order for crops to grow.  It also symbolizes the water that flowed from the rock which Moses struck when the Israelites were begging for water in the wilderness.  Jesus's claim here is huge.  For the Jew, it means that he is claiming to be the provider of the rain, which would throw a wrench into the meaning of their festival that has been happening for centuries.  He is also claiming that the "rivers of living water" can be experienced now.  For the Jew, the phrase river of living water is equated to the "Holy Spirit."  It is believed that the Holy Spirit will be poured out to all who believed in Jesus at the end of the age.  Jesus is claiming that the rivers of living water can be experienced now.   

I find it hard to translate this to modern day, but I think it would be like walking into a mega church on a Sunday afternoon, making my way up to the pulpit (assuming no bodyguard slams me to the ground), and proclaiming, "No!  This is not what church is supposed to be!  We've got to get out of here and start being the church out in the world."

The teachings of Jesus in this passage are in such opposition to Jewish belief that it's no wonder the priests and Pharisees are constantly plotting attempts to arrest him.  If it happened today, there's no doubt Jesus would go to jail at the hands of religious leaders.  

The thing about Jesus is, even the police were amazed at the things he was saying.  They had never heard anyone speak like him.  In this passage, Jesus doesn't condemn the Jews for believing the way they do, but creatively draws a picture that makes sense to the audience.  They don't get the sense that he is revolting, but they get a sense of comfort - a sense that they can trust this guy.  

In the times that I am thirsty, I pray.  That's the only way I know of to "come to Jesus."  For the audience that Jesus was speaking to, it probably meant to come talk with him or have lunch or hang out.  I think the audience was very interested in the idea that believing in something would be like having rivers of living water flowing over the heart.  Are we tired?  We don't have to be.  Are we weary?  We don't have to be.  Are we hopeless?  We don't have to be.  

Jesus invites us to experience a joy that flows through trial and tribulation.  It's a river of life that flows through the arid soil of the heart, drenching it and producing sustenance that lasts.  When this river comes, it turns weariness into vitality, mourning into dancing, and sadness into gratitude.  Do we believe this is possible, or are we convinced that life is a veil of tears?  

Today's action:  Ask ourselves, "How hard is it to trust in Jesus?  What are the things that have happened in my life that make it hard to trust?  Do I think these things were God's will?  What advice would I have given God about these things?"  Talk through these questions with a friend today.

Megaphone (Day 20 of Lent)

Growing up in the Souther Baptist tradition, I accepted lots of information that I didn't test on my own.  Most of that was from being a child.  But, there came a time when I got smarter and had the ability to test what was going into my mind.  Religion is a funny thing though.  Instead of asking questions about what I believed or didn't believe, I just moved on with life and didn't give it a second thought.  I figured that everything I knew was true and non-debatable.  I would have never thought that some of my beliefs would actually do me more harm than good.  Why would I need to question my faith, since I had no other gauge by which I was willing to test what I thought I knew?  

I was first questioned about my faith in a dimly lit room in a club, sitting across the table from my sponsor.  I didn't know it at the time, but my faith was driven out of fear.  My sponsor could see it, and he knew from what I was telling him that my faith was not my own.  When he questioned my conceptions of God, I got very offended.  The one question he asked me that still rings inside my head is, "How can you worship a God that you're afraid of?"  

I threw aside his question as if he didn't know what he was talking about.  I wondered if he had a clue who God was or how firmly I believed in God.  That was the last time I ever sat with that sponsor because I thought he was full of crap and was trying to "lead me astray."  

What my sponsor actually did that day was crack open a door into my heart that would eventually turn into a full blown rearrangement of my beliefs in God, Jesus, and spirituality in general.  I had so much fear about God that I was living in denial of his love.  I had so many conceptions about God that I had blindly accepted from childhood, and had never experienced such "faith-shattering" opposition as I did that day with my sponsor.  

But really, "How could you worship a God who you're afraid of?"  

In today's passage, Jesus is teaching in the temple in Jerusalem.  The passage covers the whole week of the Feast of Tabernacles, and he is spending the week risking his life and popularity teaching people that he is the Messiah, even though the whole city is observing the feast that points to "the coming Messiah."  It'd kind of be like going into a Wal-Mart on Black Friday, getting a megaphone, and proclaiming, "This is all wrong!  We have to stop consuming all this crap, and start sharing our stuff with the needy!  This is not how it's supposed to be!"

The crowds were split on Jesus' proclamations.  One side was convinced, and one side was enraged.  The Jewish leaders got the police and they wanted to arrest Jesus for causing such a disruption.  However, "it wasn't God's time yet."  They would get their chance to take Jesus in, but it wasn't time.  

As Jesus is making his stand in the front of the temple he says, "What I teach comes from the One who sent me.  Anyone who wants to do his will can test this teaching and know whether it's from God or whether I'm making it up.  A person making things up tries to make himself look good.  But someone trying to honor the one who sent him sticks to the facts and doesn't tamper with reality."

Jesus invites everyone to test what we believe.  For the Jews, the test was against Jesus' claims that he was the Messiah.  The Jews had preconceived beliefs that told them the Messiah was coming way in the future.  Jesus opens the door for everyone to ask themselves, "Are my beliefs my own, or have I blindly accepted someone else's?"  

Religion is a blessing and a curse.  For me, I've learned about some beautiful practices like Communion and Advent.  The negative side is, if I don't know what I believe then I'm prone to take whatever comes my way and accept it as my own.  I believe this is dangerous for anybody.

Many of us have given up on anything that has to do with religion because we felt that somebody abused it or abused us.  Many of us have given up on God or Jesus because somebody condemned us using their names.  Many of us know deep inside that the principles found in Jesus are great principles to live by, but in the forefronts of our minds are those people.  Every time we think of God we see the faces of those people who tried to jam Jesus into our hearts.  It's kind of like this:

Imagine if all throughout high school English class, the teacher told you the meaning behind every line of "Hamlet."  You didn't have enough time to read the whole book because it was too dang long.  Or, you just weren't interested.  You assumed that if you just listened to the teacher's explanation you would get the gist of it.  Therefore, you never really needed to read the book as you had the summarized version.  Lets say you're in college now, and you're taking a class on Shakespeare.  This time, the whole semester is about Hamlet.  The first night you sit down to read, you have all these preconceived "truths" and they act as a lens as you read each passage.  You're actually reading it through the lens of that high school english teacher.  Lets say that two weeks later, the class is having a discussion on the book.  As you listen to the other classmates talk about what they think, your heart starts beating a little faster and you start getting anxious.  They're wrong!  They're way off.  What they're saying isn't even close to what you've been reading.  

Even though you took the time to "read" Hamlet, you were never really reading Hamlet.  You had never set aside the information the english teacher gave.  You had never even considered it.  It was accepted as truth, and there's no way there could possibly be another way of looking at the same book.  

Reading the Bible should be no different than reading our favorite novel.  Jesus invites us to read his teachings with an open mind and not preconceived notions of truth.  He invites us to test every single line that we read, and to not form the "right" answer, but an honest one.  

I think that if we were all completely honest with ourselves about the scriptures, we could admit that we know nothing but believe a lot of things.  I believe that looks very much like "child-like" faith.  Whether we're clothed in religion or struggling just to make some sense out of life, we're all invited to test the scriptures on our own - not by somebody else's opinion or belief, but our own.  If we are truly interested in doing this, I think we'll find that what we were so afraid of in the first place had no substance.  I believe Jesus invites every one of us to seek truth, not act like we own it.  

Today's action:  List five things that we believe are the most important guides for how to live our lives.  Then, share them with a friend.  

The Tormentors (Day 19 of Lent)

In today's passage, we're told that Jesus is stepping out of the boat he's been in.  Him and the disciples have reached the country of the Gesarenes.  This is a fishing village located on the shore of the lake of Galilee.  It's mostly Greeks who live here, and one of their main economic exports is pork (aside from fish).  So, it was common to see herds of pigs being tended by groups of men as they fed and rooted in the hilly country.  We're told that no sooner than Jesus stepped out of the boat, a "madman" ran up to him and the first thing he did was bow down and worship him.  We're not told why he was considered a madman, but we are told that his name was Mob, or Legion.  Evidently, this man was tormented by a team of evil spirits and some sources say there were possibly 9,000 of these spirits ruining this man.  We're not told that he went on murderous rampages in the town, but we are told that he roams the cemetery and grave sites.  "No chains or ropes can tie him down."  As I read the scripture, I saw a very conflicted man.  He obviously had a human side that wanted to worship Jesus.  But, he also had these spirits that were controlling him, causing him to do things that he had no desire to do.  

After a few minutes, or hours, Jesus commands the spirits that are tormenting the man to "get out!"  The man wants to worship Jesus.  The spirits want to torment the man.  After Jesus tells the spirits to leave, they enter a herd of pigs that are grazing on a nearby hill on the edge of the lake.  When the spirits enter the pigs, they become crazy and run the pigs over the cliff and into the lake.  As the herders look on, they can't believe their eyes, and they run back to the town to tell everyone what they've just witnessed. 

When the townspeople arrive on the scene, they see the man sitting there in decent clothes, and he's making sense when he talks.  He seems normal.  The man has been delivered from something that no chain or rope could tie down.  He begs to go with Jesus back across the lake, but Jesus tells him to "go back home and tell your people what has happened to you today.  Tell them how the Master rescued you and showed mercy on you.  You have a story to tell."  After Jesus left the shore, the man went around and started telling everyone what had happened to him.  

As I reflect on this passage, I can't help but relate to the madman.  My tormenting spirits of alcoholism drove me crazy.  I remember roaming the streets at night, under the cover of darkness, stumbling around in a drunken stupor.  Nothing could chain down my illness.  Changing the brand or type of alcohol didn't work.  I would always keep drinking.  Changing my environment didn't work.  I would move every year, sometimes twice a year to find a geographical cure for my ailment.  I would stay away from the bars or stay away from people who drank.  It was all futile.  Eventually, the chains I would use to tie my alcoholism down would break, and it would be off to the races one more time.  I would keep myself holed up in my apartment, hoping that if I just stayed away from it long enough it would go away.  That didn't work either.  I would try to use ministry to no avail.  No rope or chain could tie it down.  I would break out every time. 

I was a madman.  I would go to jail or the hospital one day, then go right back to the bar the next.  I could not bring to mind with sufficient force the suffering that I had experienced just the day or the week before.  I was tormented, living in a dark and hopeless cemetery.  There was no hope.  

This man, and nobody else, could chain away the spirits that were tormenting him.  No human power could relieve him.  He was doomed to a cemetery life.  And then Jesus showed up. 

Jesus sent the spirits away to drown in the sea of Galilee, and the man was restored.  The man who was once tormented and controlled by dominating spirits, was now able to sit and carry a conversation that made sense.  He had a story to tell, and now he had a driving force to let everyone in on what had happened to him.  He was known by the people.  They were witnesses to how he was.  And now they were witnesses to a completely changed man.  

There is no scarier thing to me than being driven by a desire to drink.  While normal people drink to enjoy fellowship with others, I can't stop and eventually enter into oblivion.  I knew there was no solution to my problems because nothing was working.  I gave up.  I let the tormenting spirits drive me, and take me to places I never wanted to go in the first place.  Being a madman was the only way I was going to be able to admit that I could not fix my problems, and that my life was out of control.  It was there, in that cemetery of life, that God rescued me and delivered me from an alcoholic obsession.  I was done, and God was just getting the party started.  Little did I know that my future would not just be a constant battle against taking a drink, but it would be a daily adventure of trying to follow my deepest desires and letting God restore me to sanity.  

Today, I have other things in my life that don't directly affect me in the way alcohol does, but they are harmful nonetheless.  The commonality between the ailment of alcoholism and my other "lesser" ailments is:  I can't chain them down.  The ropes will eventually snap.  Some of the things that I've tried to chain down are:  smoking cigarettes, watching pornography, the fear of giving compliments, the desire to control others, and the misuse of my time.  

In the paradox of the centuries, it's only when I stop trying to chain down these spirits, that God delivers me from them.  The chains and ropes are futile attempts to make myself feel powerful and manageable.  I convince myself that if I only . . . then . . .  

There's a very interesting line in the passage in which the man begs Jesus not to banish the spirits from the country.  The man who is being tormented day and night is asking Jesus not to banish his tormentors!  This makes so much sense to me.  The things that are driving me mad have become companions.  I've become so use to having them around that I can't imagine life without them!  I may talk about getting rid of them, but deep inside I know that life might be scarier without.  So, I verbally ask God to remove them, but inwardly I want them to stay.  

What are the things that are driving us mad?

Are we ready to stop trying to tie them down?

What's one thing we can do today to stop trying to tie down our "tormentors?"

What's one thing we can do today to let God handle our "tormentors?"