A Good Friend

He passed the day after Christmas. Just three short days ago. A tough day to die in my opinion, especially for family members left behind. But better I suppose to pass on this day than passing on Christmas day itself. A strong man physically lost to a relatively brief battle against leukemia, he fought like a soldier. Though I didn't know him well, today I was honored to attend his funeral. He was appropriately and respectfully remembered by all in attendance. By all counts, a good man according to his eulogy. I left there wishing I had better known him.

Funerals have always made me pensive and tend to send my thoughts into reflective overload. Honoring the deceased takes on more significance in each of my passing years. I find myself more engaged to the funerary statements, more aware of what is being said (or what is not being said) of the one for whom the gathered mourn. At times I find the words haunting, as if I am looking to find something to be said of myself among the words spoken of another.

Funerals are to me as if, for a moment, someone turns up the volume on one's own life clock. The ticks are more pronounced than on other days, like an old grandfather clock against the wall in a quiet living room of a house in which you are merely visiting. Time ebbs onward, though we appear much more aware of it on these days. Solemn indeed, rightfully so.

It was touching to hear his closest friends share of their life together. How they met, the fun they'd shared, the fact that all four of the closest of these friends were by birth "only" children and therefore chose to "adopt" one another as surrogate "brothers and sisters." "One can't complain when you get to choose your brother and sister," was one spoken statement. "No sibling rivalry or jealousy or envy, just..." love, I presume.

Reflective as I've been on the idea of friendships of late, today further informed my thoughts and it continues to assist in the reshaping of my approach to friendship. Perhaps it has been the fear of loss that has kept my heart guarded from the closest of friendships? However, today I learned from the friends of the beloved departed man that it is as grand an honor to hurt for (or with) a friend as it is to laugh with them. I would like to think some level of chivalry has allowed me to remain safely at large from the most intimate of relationships -- not wanting my friends to hurt when I let them down or when I'm finally boxed away in the flesh -- but I then realize the arrogance of such a thought as if I were even able to maintain such a thing... to hope one would be sorely missed as I have hoped for, surely is full of ego-centric toxins.

Is this perhaps not the very glory of true friendship? To willingly allow pain to enter in and challenge the veracity of the bond between two individuals? Isn't this the point the biblical author Paul makes writing of our estrangement from God? "For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!" (Romans 5:10)

To be a friend means we will hurt and we will get hurt. But what have we if we don't take that risk? Being "friend" means we will occasionally disappoint, we will at times abuse, we will periodically neglect and yet, it is in that momentary dissonance that a true friendship has the blessed opportunity to struggle, to fight, to cry and to mourn, but also to forgive and to restore and to be reconciled. How much more a "friend" shall we be, when all this is accomplished?

I heard this truth today in the testimony of some good friends of an officer (literally -- retired Air Force) and a gentleman who is now experiencing the ultimate expression of reconciliation with God through the power of grace found only in Jesus Christ. His remaining friends stood and testified to the power of friendship as first taught us in the redeemed friendship we have with our Creator.

Jesus has cleared the way for us to live like true friends by giving us this simple command: "Love each other as I have loved you" (John 15:13). Seems simple enough, until we face the potential pain of it all. Then we must decide whether we are "in" or "out." As one who has always struggled with being fully "in," confessionallly I'm finding a new way to friendship.

Truth be told, I've kept distance in friendships not because I didn't want others to hurt (I've hurt enough people to prove that wasn't the case), but because I myself was afraid of being hurt. However, I've found that maintaining a "safe" distance in friendships only produces isolation, fear and finally, nowhere to turn when you find yourself sinking "below the waterline." To not allow one's self to be close to another is ultimately selfishness.

If Jesus thought only of his own pain, we would still be languishing in it. Instead, the day after Christmas, a good friend went on to be with the Lord at the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and the pain borne by those friends remaining on earth is an honor and privilege to bear for a life well lived as a true friend.

May the same kind of friendship be said of us all when it is our time to leave.

Closer Friendship

Friendship is precious, but is rarely appreciated for its potential. Many people in this world are blessed with close families and reap tremendous benefit from these relationships. A mitigating factor of these family relationships is the inherent lack of choice. A familial relationship is born of blood. It is a process of natural development. While it may be argued there certainly is choice in whether to deepen or magnify the relationship, there is still an inherent element of "blood being thicker than water."

What is fascinating about non-familial friendship is the root of choice. Friends make conscious choice (decision) to be together, to invest in one another, to stand in the gap for each other... to befriend. This is, at least for me, one of the most powerful aspects of being "friends."

All of my life, it could be said I had many acquaintances. Always finding myself in various roles of leadership, I have tended to find myself standing in the "middle of a crowd" rather than on the edge of it. But of all the many people I have known, I'm confident few, if any really, have known me the way a true friend would. It is important not to acquaint "companionship" with true "friendship." The difference is pronounced.

For the past 18 months or so I have been evaluating my ability to be "friend" and to "befriend." To speak frankly, I'm not terribly confident I've ever been much good at it -- being a friend., that is. I am painfully aware I have guarded fear and selfishness at the price of true intimacy. Battling a lifelong fear of rejection, I preserved pride and insecurities not only by limiting my willingness to be available to others, but also by allowing myself to take advantage of relationships in hurtful and painful ways. How can one be a true "friend" when one thinks of themselves before others? The really sad thing is that rebuilding friendships is a long and difficult task if not downright impossible.

When selfishness resides at the root of "friendship" the growth of that friendship will be forever limited and stunted. Even if thinly veiled, selfishness will restrict the eventual potential of any good friendship.

I regret the selfishness shadowing my past relationships and I am praying for the richness and valuable gift of friendships with less of the burden of my own selfishness.

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

"The Calming of Santa"

Time is illusive. Constantly passing regardless of our awareness it remains as either faithful friend or relentless foe. Perhaps it's passing is no more evident than in the marking of holidays and of those, Christmas is likely most vulnerable. There are so many traditions and so much "at stake" (in the mind of a child) that Christmas is the "biggie" in terms of identifying how things change.

Last night there were no arguments nor even an suggestions made about when to go to bed. Both girls willingly ascended the stairs at their own bidding and under their own compulsion. The younger declared 8:00am as the appropriate time to awake on this Christmas morning. I was up at 6:30am, Mom, Nanny and Papa not far behind me. As promised, the girls came down around 8:00 and we casually made our way over to the stockings (hung by the chimney with care). That gave way to eventual gift giving.

I broke the agreement I made with my wife to put nothing in each other's stockings so she's armed to assault S'Bucks on a new gift card and will have plenty of chewing gum as well to deal with post-venti breath. As agreed, my stocking was empty.

What only a few years ago took nearly two hours to accomplished is now expedited in less than 30 minutes. Gift opening has evolved expeditiously. I don't believe we're spending any less in these growing years of life, I think it is just that the same amount of money simply doesn't go as far in the world of young fashion clothing and high-tech electronics. Alert the media, we're officially out of kid-Christmas mode. We're playing on an entirely different field now!

Rather than kids playing with toys after the ripped wrapping paper carnage, this year all the family members gathered around the family room belting out songs on the new Karaoke set up. New kinds of fun in a new stage of being family. It all seems so, I don't know... mature.

In some ways today evidenced the "calming of Santa" and as a guy who used to try to fill some semblance of his shoes, that's just fine with me. I think it is time to take nap!

Merry Christmas, one and all.

Remaining...

For the past few days I've been fighting some kind of a "bug." Sinus congestion, sneezing, itchy eyes, scratchy throat, body aches... just the general "yucks!" I've felt it trying to invade my chest, but I am willing it away. No southern migration for the "yucks!" It's either in the head, or nowhere at all! Doesn't it figure? Just a couple days before a two weeks of scheduled vacation and I have to get sick. I am so rarely ill that it would be up to me to get sick on a much needed vacation and at Christmas time, too!

Yesterday, I felt so badly that I couldn't even get out of bed the first half of the day. If I did happen to wake up (which I only did twice between 8am and 3pm) I quickly rolled over and went right back to sleep. Sleep always seems to help my body recover even quicker than any medicine. I love sleep and I'm actually fairly good at it -- but my 15-year-old can certainly give me a run for my money. One day this past summer I recall she pushed her slumber to the 14 hour mark! Funny thing about getting older... it seems we require less sleep. I now average about 5 hours per night.

Needing to facilitate a spiritual formation event on our church campus that evening, I found myself back in the office around 4:30pm. Starting to feel a little better physically (never underestimate the power of a S'Buck Venti), I stayed around the office late for some conversation, prayer, writing and some computer fine tuning. Arriving home a little after midnight I took some cold medicine and headed to bed. Normally taking only seconds to fall asleep, the moment my head hit the pillow, I knew I was in trouble. Sleep would be a lost commodity this night!

I spent the next two hours just lying there, letting thoughts of friends and family float through my mind. As each came to my attention, I let the thought of them "rest" in the welcomed presence of the Lord. Ebbing between engaged prayer and simply listening, I enjoyed a renewed sense of God's presence and love. The time was sweet... I felt closer to everyone in my attention, including the Lord.

Finally, about 4:00am I got out of bed, did a little work, played a couple games of online backgammon, read a little and finally went back to bed about 6:00am for "a nice winter's nap." (Not quite the night before Christmas, but we're getting close).

I awoke with the words of Jesus close to my heart, "If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). The thought of His words have remained all day.

I'm trying to discover the power of simply being still... abiding... remaining in His presence. No need for words, just presence. It takes some discipline, but without pursing it, it's like the Venti without the cream (never quite as sweet).

Quite frankly, I'd rather learn my lessons apart from this stinkin' head cold... but regardless of how it comes, the lesson is well learned.

Now, does anyone have a tissue?

Why As a Child?

He could have come in any form. Transfigured as He was high on the mountain in front of His disciples, He could have come with radiant face shining like the sun and clothes as white as light. I suppose He could have come in the form of an old wise man, replete with long beard and gnarled cane. Or, perhaps He could have majestically come in a form unlike anything we had ever seen before, something like the heavenly host John saw in his revelatory vision on the isle of Patmos. Instead, Jesus came in the form of a baby. "All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel -- which means, "God with us" (Luke 1:22-23).

Amid all the hustle and bustle of the season (how many holiday events can one individual attend?), I've been giving much thought to the Christ Child. Why did the Savior of all mankind come to earth in the form of a baby? He could have come in any form. Why a baby?

Scripture never answers the question, it merely forecasts and then records that is how it happened. So, we are left to wonder...

Perhaps it was because of His innocence? Though "he was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth" (Is. 53:9), He never lost the innocence and purity of a child. Sinless and without fault, He lived the duration of His life to absolute perfection.

Perhaps it was because of His destiny? It was Simeon who said in blessing the Christ child, "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed" (Lk. 2:34-35).

Perhaps it was because of His mission? In His home town of Nazareth, He would stand in the synagogue on a Sabbath day and proclaim reading Isaiah the prophet, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach the good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor" (Lk 4:18-19; Is. 61:1,2).

Perhaps it was simply because of us? And so Jesus grew "in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men" (Lk. 2:52) and He provided an example of what it means to be a "child" of God.

Life in the "Greenhouse" is changing. The last child is no longer a child, turning 13 last week and some of the "magic" of Christmas has changed. Certainly the love still flows as deeply as ever, but we are now much more "adult" about the gifts we exchange. Presents this year will likely not appear wrapped and under the tree until late Christmas Eve -- the fear of having "no gifts for Christmas" has given way to a rational calm. The special "Santa Cookie Plate" that for years upon which has always remained half eaten cookie and a swallow of milk on Christmas morning was accidentally dashed to pieces on the stone hearth during this year's decorating. (It will likely never be replaced (until the grandchildren make their entrance into the world, no doubt when the "magic" magically reappears). "Visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads" are now displaced by visions of MP3 players and knee-high fashion boots. Life is indeed changing, but perhaps this is the point.

Arriving as a child, Christ Jesus grew. The Christ changed and He became all the Father had called Him to be. Even the Christ child grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and men. And so shall we.

This Christmas, I'm giving myself the gift of self-reflection and taking an account of how I've grown and how I am still growing. Far, far from the innocence of a child and sinful to the point of shame, I'm looking for how I might grow closer to His perfection. Still searching for what it is I'm destined to be, I'm looking for how I might more fully accomplish what it is God has created me to be and to do. Asking the Creator to give me keener vision for the poor, the imprisoned, the blind and oppressed, I'm evaluating my own personal mission and how I might mature into the calling I've received.

This Christmas, I'm hoping to find a deeper meaning of Christ the child, for He is called Immanuel -- which means "God with us" and with God is where I long to be.



Note: My apologies to those who have found my blog lacking in content in the past week. Neglecting to give any notice of my brief absence, I chose to be quiet for a few days so as to let some thoughts ruminate. The two weeks following Christmas and New Years will be a time of vacation for me, but I do intend to write at least some, though I will be away from my typical duties of my ministry. Look for a consistent stream of content again the second week of the new year.

No More Kids...

Yesterday was one of those "marker" days in the cycle of life. My youngest child officially became a teenager. On the books, she is officially "no longer a child" and, officially, I no longer have "kids." Oh sure, I still have two wonderful children, but (and they are none too quick to remind me), I don't have "kids."

It is amazing how quickly the time has passed. In fact, a family friend just had her first child the day before my daughter turned 13 in the exact same LDR in which my new teen came into the world 13 years ago plus one day. For our friend it was yesterday and for me, it just feels like yesterday. Where does the time go?

Both my daughters are amazing young women. They are virtually "trouble free" (I give all glory to God and continue to pray for grace to cover a multitude of parental stupidity) and I absolutely love the life we share together. Their mother and I couldn't ask for better kids... okay, truth be told they could keep their rooms cleaner, their bathroom cleaner and it wouldn't hurt if they'd volunteer assistance doing a few chores around the house. But other than that... no complaining here!

Watching my girls grow has given me some reason to pause and take account of my own growth in the same amount of time. My waistline is pretty close to the same size as when they were born (though North Texan fare is challenging that reality), my feet are actually a half size larger than they were 15 years ago (I've heard that happens... something about your arches falling or something... and your ears keep growing, too... that's just gross) and I've grown some wrinkles and a few gray hairs.

So much for physical growth...

As my baby girl turned 13, I began looking back at my spiritual growth over the same period of time. Parenting certainly has a way of sobering life and growing us up emotionally and spiritually. There have been many other influences as well. Some wrought with pain and heartache... but no one ever said growing up was easy, did they?.

My girls still are having growing pains... the 8 foot stick we have charting their growth every six months of their lives is a priceless possession. I don't know what we'll do with it when they are done "growing up." At the rate the older one is growing, we may use every inch of that 8 feet (gee, I sure hope not... unless there is room in the WNBA)!

I've been wondering if I could have charted my spiritual growth over the same period of time and what would it look like if I did. If there was an 8 foot spiritual "stick" in my formation closet, how high up the stick could we mark?

13 will soon be 26 for my youngest offspring and I can only hope we'll need a taller stick by then, if in fact spiritual growth is a "vertical" ascent (it may be more about getting "smaller" rather than bigger -- check out John 3:30).

How do you chart your spiritual growth? I have some ideas, but I'm curious what you think...

Gift List

Every year, like clockwork, the Wish Book from Sears, Roebuck & Co. arrived at our house. This several hundred page book was filled with such magnificent things, I would sit captivated for hours in amazement and wonder. Amazement that somewhere such fantastic toys were created and wonder as to how I could ever get my hands on them! A Wish Book, to be sure!

I would sit for hours contemplating each page. Well, okay, I skipped right through the Barbie stuff and the Easy Bake ovens and anything, generally speaking, that came in hues of pink. But all the other stuff was fair game. After my initial scanning, I would begin to methodically work my way through each section, making a mental note of the items that fit my liking.

The next pass through the book was the "intent" phase of my planning. This was the stage in which I consciously chose the toys I wanted. Dog-eared pages were the indicator to all parental gift-buying units that these were the pages to which high consideration was to be given. There was no need to mark the items with ink for the drool spot on or near the picture was sufficient marking.

From the dog-eared stage, I progressed into "fantasy" phase. Here I would play with each toy with vivid imagination in my mind until it felt like I actually owned the gas-powered Cox airplane or the really cool water pressure powered rocket set (I actually was given the rockets, but they never flew as high in real life as they did in my imagination).

Eventually, I don't know if the Wish Book ceased to exist or if I simply grew out of my fascination with it. But one day I noticed its absence with curiosity and wonder. What happened to my obsession with the Wish Book and my unwritten gift list?

In this season of gift giving, I wonder what we would want for Christmas if Jesus sent out a Wish Book? If a catalogue of spiritual "wishes" arrived on your doorstep, for what would you wish the most? What section might you simply skip through with little or no regard whatsoever?

I'm curious about what we'd ask for given the opportunity. Do you know what you would wish for? What is on your grown-up (spiritual) Christmas list this year?

You showed favor to your land, O Lord;
you restored the fortunes of Jacob.
You forgave the iniquity of your people
and covered all their sins.
You set aside all your wrath
and turned from your fierce anger.
(Ps. 85:1-3)

Temper Tantrum

Standing in one of those large warehouse retail stores the other day, I witnessed something found only on the pages of a child development textbook or perhaps in the late scenes of a horror movie. I can still hear the blood-curdling screams and the way the child shook violently and rolled around on the floor, I would have cast my vote for demonic possession if anyone had asked me. Yet, I saw the whole thing transpire right before my eyes and know exactly what it was.

This young family comprised of a dad, a mom, an older sister and the "demon" (err, I mean little sister), were immediately in front of me in the check out line. Little sister didn't want to put her coat on, even though it was cold and raining outside. Mom tried to help and the child refused. Dad stepped in and that is when all "heck" broke loose. Instantaneously this child let out the most ferocious scream I've ever heard. If there was a TV show was called American Ignominy, the kid would have been a finalist! I thought this might be an isolated outburst followed by a swift parental action and all would be well with the sound waves. How wrong I was...

This kid was just getting warmed up. How that much "horror" can be stored in a six-year-old is beyond me. This kid yelled, screamed, spat, sat, kicked, hit and the parents never lost their cool. It was immediately apparent they had been down this road before. The older sister was mortified at the public disgrace, you could read it in her face. The mother wanted to melt into the cement floor as the dad forcefully yet sweetly lifted his now rigid (like a 2x6 board) daughter into his arms. Her screams filled the warehouse... I mean the entire warehouse... it was a ghastly sight. I was mortified for them.

Walking about 2o yards behind them, I began praying for their patience and long-suffering, for suffering they were! I don't know what else could have been done. They were not "giving in" to her tantrum, but this was a scene few parents would willingly endure. A lesser parent would have "popped."

I watched Dad load her into the car and shut the door. The other family members stood outside riding out the ear-piercing screams. I couldn't take any more myself as I got in my car and sped away. As I write this now, I find myself praying for them even though I don't know their names and will likely never see them again (I hope... at least in that condition, anyway).

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks... about 24 hours before... my wife and I pulled into the driveway and pushed the button to open the garage door. Rising only about eight inches, it stopped. I hit the button again, same result. Looking my wife in the eyes, she knew what I was thinking... and said it before I could. "Our front door keys are in the house, aren't they?" she queried. I sighed...

Then, from out of nowhere anger welled up inside of me so fast I didn't even see it coming. A few unsavory words and then I'm throwing my winter jacket on the hood of the car only to shimmy under the door across the freezing concrete. Successfully now in the garage, I proceed to take a few swipes at the door on my way up. A couple more choice words and I go into solution mode.

A simple repair of one roller and an adjustment to the track fixed the problem. But now I'm blaming the builder, the sub-contractors, the installer, the mailman... anyone I can find. I'm yelling and complaining about paying "so much" for a house and having a "goofy" garage door to show for it. Blah-blah-blah... It was disgraceful and I'm sorry about it!

Okay... confessions made, I now realize I'm not that far from my little "demonic" friend. While my audience was much smaller, my wife still had to deal with a husband throwing his little "temper tantrum." As the old saying goes, "Out of the mouth of babes..." Okay, I'm convicted...

Maybe someone (likely my wife) saw my sorry display of emotion and prayed for me like I prayed for that young little family. Regardless of age or packaging, temper tantrums are a waste of energy and I can only hope my Father will be patient with me, will pick me up and put me "back in the car." Eventually, I hope to learn my lesson!

Do you struggle with the same thing? What have you found helps you curb your temper? Are you willing to share?

Sacred Lottery

While some close to me are enthusiastic players, I've never been much for playing the lottery. Statistically, I look at the odds and find them just too steep for me when I have absolutely no skill invested in the game. "Scratchers" or "Quick Picks" are so unappealing to me, I can't remember ever even purchasing one. On the very rare occasions I have played the lottery, I've always chosen to pick my own numbers. Somehow it seems to me a bit more sporting than just random luck of the draw.

As the world turns attention toward the birth of Christ, there is a "young" family whom will likely miss the attention of the Christmas Masses and the masses at Christmas. This family won't be available in inexpensive poured resin nativity sets either. Nor will they appear on the cover of discounted Christmas cards come the crush of December 26th clearance sales. Instead, this family will simply remain stationed on the first page of Luke's gospel within the confines of the first couple dozen verses.

Six months prior to the miraculous conception of Jesus Christ in the womb of the Virgin Mary, Elizabeth, a relative of Mary's, was found to be miraculously with child by her husband Zechariah. This conception was miraculous because Elizabeth was barren and they were both well along in years.

News of this miraculous birth, the one that will receive no acclaim this Christmas season, was delivered when Zachariah's division was on Temple duty. Zechariah was serving as priest before the Lord, when his name came up in the lottery.

It was one of the priest's duties to keep the incense burning on the altar in front of the Most Holy Place -- the place where the presence of God remained. The priest would supply the altar with fresh incense before the morning sacrifice and again at the evening sacrifice (see Ex. 30:6-8 to read more about it). Quite infrequently would a priest have the privilege of bringing the incense and it would not be surprising if they never had this opportunity as this duty was assigned through the casting of lots (which was basically a "random" (though God seemed to intervene in the casting of lots on more than one occasion) sacred lottery).

As Zechariah brought the incense to the Most Holy Place, all the assembled worshippers were outside praying to the Lord. As they prayed, an angel of the Lord appeared to Zechariah, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was surprised and "gripped with fear" (Lk 1:12). The angel replied, "Don't be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. He will be a joy and delight to you and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord... to make ready a people prepared for the Lord" (1:13-17).

John (you'll know him as John the Baptist), did become great in the sight of the Lord and was the "voice of one calling in the desert" (3:4) that prepared the way for the ministry of Jesus.

Though the Christmas season rightly brings the world's attention to the birth of Jesus, we must not forget the miracle of only a few months before. From the same bloodlines came the faithful acceptance of God's miraculous calling even through the "chance" of a sacred "lottery" pick. That was a winning pick that day and that lottery still pays off in heavenly dividends even to this day and into all eternity.

So, if at the office Christmas party you receive a "scratcher" or "quick pick" in your bonus check, don't be too quick to discard it. Who knows? There might be a divine assignment associated with it and you'll certainly want to be prepared for that which the Lord might have planned!

A Merry Christmas, indeed!

Giving Peace a Chance

On May 31, 1969, Beatles band member John Lennon and his wife Yoko Ono began staying "in bed" for several days in front of a world stage of press and media. The "Bed-In" in Room 1742 at the Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal, Canada, became an icon of 1960's non-violent protesting for world peace.

When asked by a reporter why they were staging such an event, John Lennon calmly replied, "All we are saying is give peace a chance." Lennon liked the phrase so much, days later it became a lyric heard worldwide as he and several artists recorded the song from that very room on a rented 8-track recording machine. For those hip to music trivia, you might be amused that Tommy Smothers (of the Smothers Brothers TV Show fame) played acoustic guitar along with Lennon on the recording.

Here we are, nearly 40 years later and from my perspective the world is no closer to "world peace" than we were then. Did the "Bed-In" and the recording have no effect at all? The song can still be heard on "oldies" radio occasionally and sounds as good (subjectively) and relevant as it did when it was recorded. If we are no closer to peace as a world community, perhaps the issue is in our understanding of "peace" and not the music we produce.

The Bible references peace in a broader sense and with much deeper meaning than our common usage. Our tendency is to define peace in limited terms. We consider "peace" to be existence "without conflict." But the concept of peace appearing in Scripture is much deeper and more profound.

The Hebrew concept of "peace" (shalom) refers more to a state of well-being, wholeness and harmony involving all of a person's relationships rather than merely personal peace in my own personal space. Biblical peace is, in essence, having "peace on every side" in the community in which an individual exists. To have "peace" only within one's personal space or psyche isn't really "peace" as Scripture sees it. Instead, Scripture speaks of peace more as a "way of life" (see Is. 59:8; Lk. 1:79; Rom. 3:17).

God establishes peace and is the sustaining Force behind peace for all creatures. One of the effects of being in relationship with God is that He purifies us from all sin. Within that purification comes the ability (and willingness) to live "at peace." "May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body, be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it" (1 Thes. 5:23-24). Also consider what Jesus had to say about "Peacemakers" and what becomes of them (Matt. 5:9).

It stands to reason that when we submit to the cleansing of God, we find the ability to "give peace a chance." God is the sustaining power of peace. He first reconciles us to Himself which brings us peace with Him. We then translate that peace afforded by His grace into a peace that becomes substantially authentic with our neighbor. The result moves us much closer to "shalom" for all people (world peace).

We can talk (or sing) about peace all day long, but eventually something must be done about it. Rather than merely singing, "give peace a chance," perhaps someone ought to write a new lyric... "all we are saying, is give God a chance" and then do something about pursuing Him.

Do you have a line to add? I'm thinking about going back to bed... calling the papers and news channels... we're looking to launch a new campaign for peace. But before I do that, I'm going to keep looking for God because I think He has something to say about it all.

Peace, out.

Inhabited Praise

Hanging on the cross, Jesus chose as His last words, the words of the Psalmist David, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Ps. 22:1). David would continue writing, "Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent" (22:1-2).

As the cliche goes, "separation makes the heart grow fonder." It boggles the mind to think of God being "separated" from Himself. That the Father could even "forsake" His Son is difficult for us to conceive. Yet for me, there are times when I feel quite removed from God though I am saved by grace through faith in Christ Jesus (Eph. 2:8).

When feeling distance from the Creator, it is not unreasonable to lament it. Though we may still reside in His grace, it is possible for us to feel a "distance" from His presence. To share our distance with a spiritually-minded friend who may understand what we mean by the term "distance" is an appropriate response when we feel far away. Or we may prefer to seclude and salve our distance in quiet and solitude. But these will rarely draw us immediately back into the presence of the One who knows us better than we know ourselves.

When distance is felt, the most natural and meaningful response is to simply praise the One for whom we long to be near. David's psalm continues, "Yet, you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the praise of Israel. In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed" (22:3-5).

Enthroned in holiness, we who are not holy by nature, cannot simply storm the gates of heaven and expect an audience with the Holy One. By His grace, extended through the sacrifice of Christ, we enter in the context of praise. Effectively, the Lord inhabits praise and in praise I find a sense of His presence unparalleled in any other experience.

To offer praise is to perhaps speak the purest words we can find. There is no guile, no shadows of presumption, but merely the recognition and pronouncement of His glory and majesty.

When the Lord inhabits our praise, we are perhaps closer than we will ever be in this fleshly existence.

Surrender any "distance" you may feel today and allow the Lord to inhabit your praise.