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i have been living most of my days vicariously through matthew the last couple of months. my fear is that i will only become familiar with the words while never drawing nearer the word.

but as yeshua has continued to gently remind us: everyone will know us by our love: just as a tree/vine is known by it’s fruit.

when we follow/akoloutheo yeshua, we attach ourselves to him; it shares it’s meaning with a most political concept: that of choosing a side, or a party. and in world where yeshua is the king of kings of kings, once we choose that side, we can be sure we will face either embrace or persecution.

when we love the way he loved, we will inevitable look undeniably foolish to some, and unbelievably free to others. when we serve GOD and not mammon/money/wealth, we will look financially ridiculous to some, and compassionately generous to others. when we align our life with the manifesto of the kingdom of heaven, we will surely be persecuted by some, and embraced by others.

this whole thing is a mirror! isn’t it interesting: when we love as yeshua loves, we will gain enemies who will persecute us, who we will pray for. it’s like a rare foolproof formula/cycle to never leave us without people to pray for, haha! it’s a mirror revealing our fruit revealing our enemies revealing our love revealing our fruit!

Q/ are we following/attaching-ourselves-to yeshua rather than drawing near to the words? and do we even have enemies to pray for?

a parable from peter rollins seems most fitting, it’s called, ‘no conviction’:
In a world where following Christ is decreed to be a subversive and illegal activity you have been accused of being a believer, arrested and dragged before a court.

You have been under clandestine surveillance for some time now and so the prosecution has been able to build up quite a case against you. They begin the trial by offering the judge dozens of photographs which show you attending church meetings, speaking at religious events, and participating in various prayer and worship services. After this they present a selection of items that have been confiscated from your home: religious books that you own, worship CDs and other Christian artefacts. Then they step up the pace by displaying many of the poems, pieces of prose, and journal entries that you had lovingly written concerning your faith. Finally, in closing, the prosecution offers your Bible to the judge. This is a well-worn book with scribbles, notes, drawings, and underlings throughout, evidence, if it were needed, that you had read and re-read this sacred text many times.

Throughout the case you have been sitting silently in fear and trembling. You know deep in your heart that with the large body of evidence that has been amassed by the prosecution you face the possibility of a long imprisonment or even execution. At various times throughout the proceedings you have lost all confidence and have been on the verge of standing up and denying Christ. But while this thought has plagued your mind throughout the trial, you resist the temptation and remain focused.

Once the prosecution has finished presenting their case the judge proceeds to ask if you have anything to add, but you remain silent and resolute, terrified that if you open your mouth, even for a moment, you might deny the charges made against you. Like Christ, you remain silent before your accusers. In response you are led outside to wait as the judge ponders your case.

The hours pass slowly as you sit under guard in the foyer waiting to be summoned back. Eventually a young man in uniform appears and leads you into the courtroom so that you may hear the verdict and receive word of your punishment. Once seated in the dock the judge, a harsh and unyielding man, enters the room, stands before you, looks deep into your eyes and begins to speak,

“Of the charges that have been brought forward I find the accused not guilty.”

“Not guilty?” your heart freezes. Then, in a split second, the fear and terror that had moments before threatened to strip your resolve are swallowed up by confusion and rage.

Despite the surroundings, you stand defiantly before the judge and demand that he give an account concerning why you are innocent of the charges in light of the evidence.

“What evidence?” he replies in shock.

“What about the poems and prose that I wrote?” you reply.

“They simply show that you think of yourself as a poet, nothing more.”

“But what about the services I spoke at, the times I wept in church and the long, sleepless nights of prayer?”

“Evidence that you are a good speaker and actor, nothing more.” replied the judge, “It is obvious that you deluded those around you, and perhaps at times you even deluded yourself, but this foolishness is not enough to convict you in a court of law.”

“But this is madness!” you shout. “It would seem that no evidence would convince you!”

“Not so,” replies the judge as if informing you of a great, long forgotten secret.

“The court is indifferent toward your Bible reading and church attendance; it has no concern for worship with words and a pen. Continue to develop your theology, and use it to paint pictures of love. We have no interest in such armchair artists who spend their time creating images of a better world. We exist only for those who would lay down that brush, and their life, in a Christ-like endeavor to create it. So, until you live as Christ and his followers, until you challenge this system and become a thorn in our side, until you die to yourself and offer your body to the flames, until then my friend, you are no enemy of ours.”

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As a class assignment during my last year of undergraduate studies I had to attend a public meeting of some kind and observe the interaction of the people present. I decided to attend a local AA Meeting which met at my church in Grand Rapids, Mich. The sights, sounds, stories, and smells are still fresh in my mind today as I take a moment and remember a lesson learned.
The room, like a finished bottle from a previous life, was empty when I entered. Not a lot of time passed before I found myself sitting near the back corner; scanning the room, I was amazed at how many people there were. I was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that I was laughing with my newly formed acquaintances – laughing! What did I expect? To be honest, my biases had gotten the best of me and I expected to hear from low-life, rotten, poor, helpless men. I expected to see the women: slutty, skinny, eyes full of ethanol.

Can you imagine the surprise when my eyes were drawn to a white-collared man? I thought, “Have I seen him around, perhaps at the gas station, filling up his Audi?” The expanse of the room was quickly filled with men and women, delightful – no – thankful to be attending. There were friends, workers, businessmen, maybe accountants, or even church secretaries, teachers, mothers, a twenty year old child. I felt taken back. The thought of laughing never crossed my mind. Nervousness and excitement washed over me as I thought about the prospect of hearing their stories. What was their story?

Well, it was the biggest turn out in a while I suppose, because we separated into two groups; one with all women, the other with all men. The meeting was underway.

Jack began, “Hi, I’m Jack, I’m an alcoholic.” His support resounded, “Hey Jack.” We reviewed the Twelve Steps, read the Preamble, and prayed the Serenity Prayer. I was embarrassed that I had not even fully memorized the three-line prayer. Next order on the table: topic. What was the topic? I couldn’t wait…

Prayer. Bob spoke up, requesting we discuss prayer: how it had affected the other men, how they prayed, and how he can become better. I didn’t notice my mouth dropping, but my stomach was in a knot.

They all had fascinating stories, but one in particular has stuck with me to this day.

Gary was at least seventy. Perhaps he deserved to be older, for the lessons he endured. He drank straight liquor for several years before he was confronted with his “problem.” He denied it, of course. He became suicidal and utterly reckless: driving into trees and off bridges. Sadly, this was not Gary’s rock bottom. Twice he pulled the car into his garage, set up the hoses, rested his finger on the metal electric window button. But, he became too sick, had to back out. Then, he got his hands on a gun. He even managed to slide the smooth barrel into his mouth. And it’s here that Gary says he “fell down.” Right on the bottom of rock bottom. He never pulled the trigger, instead he found a sponsor.

Gary was told to pray to God and to pray hard. He remembered it with ease as the words fell from his mouth. “F— God,” came the response to that advice. He hated God. I could feel it, sitting in that tiled room with my eyes glued to his.

I was reminded of how often well-meaning Christians just want to cover everything up, pretend like life is all bubbles and warmth. He did need to pray, but he also needed physical help. If his name had been Bartimaeus, he would have needed his sight restored, not just a hand on his shoulder.

He never prayed, continued to drink, and ran further and further from the help he desperately wanted. For two years this continued and he soon revisited that dreary place on the bottom. However, this time was destined to be different. He prayed. And to wake up in the morning, I believe, must have been the best feeling he had experienced in years. Gary came to know God in ways that I cannot fully relate to, because of his journey. But he now lives in conversation with God. It is the only way, he says, an alcoholic will find relief, peace, and love.

Erwin McManus in his book, Soul Cravings noted that, “God is love…To search for love and run from God is maddening.”

I am forever grateful for the story of Gary and the love of God. I am reminded on a regular basis that God is love and all things are possible. Of course, I have also learned the value in remembering that every relationship is a journey. Ours with God is no different. Some people choose to take the long way home and it’s not our job to rescue them; only to continue being the body of Christ and living, as Gary came to recognize, in constant conversation with Him.

in patience,

.

with all the light the sun has to offer

and with all the rain the cloud has to bring

.

that we may become an offering

of patience

.

from death we grow underfoot of soil

so bring your march with all your plight!

and bring your chaos and floods of hate!

and bring your reign you crowds of might!

but only watch and simply wait.

from death you will rise, the hope of our toil!

.

with all the light the sun had to offer

and with all the rain the cloud had to bring

.

so you might be loved, and often sing

of patience

(c) 2010 Justin P Heap

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Then said he, Unto what is the kingdom of God like? and whereunto shall I resemble it?
It is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and cast into his garden…

“Thou shalt not…” – GOD

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the last two months, for me, have been thematically defined by three or four areas of meditation and conversation: forgiveness, advent, priests-and-prophets, and covenant.

basically. i just want to isolate this idea of covenant and share a simple thought connected to freedom, love, and what is commonly referred to as the ten commandments. also, this journal piece emerges now as a direct confirmation from ruach hakodesh (the holy spirit-wind-breath) through this morning’s message from our teacher in our local community: you know, it was one of those deals where i had been wanting to journal for a few weeks, but nothing ever came together, and then this morning – it was like a rush of blood in my veins, a resonating “amen!” erupted and i was like – dude, i have to write the deal about the ten commandments. haha. so, thanks brian (and GREAT message this morning.)

alright, so, suffice it to say, most people do not equate the ten commandments with words such as freedom, love, life, covenant, or grace. sadly, many followers of yeshua, myself often included, forget the resounding declaration, “GOD IS LOVE.” (1 john 4.8, 16). yes. even GOD throughout the first covenant is love!

there is no such thing as “the god of the old covenant and the god of the new covenant.” after all, it is in the s’hema that we boldly profess, “the LORD is our God, the LORD is one.” there is but one god. and he is love.

we may not understand the ways in which he works, but he is love.

we may not remember that he did not invite brokenness into the world, but he is love.

we might not respond in the same ways he did or does, but he is love.

to paraphrase a portion of brian‘s message this morning: [the very god of the old covenant became a human in the new covenant: and so it would stand to reason that we would get to see what this god is really like...and guess, what? he is love.]

[selah]

which brings me to this whole idea of “Thou Shalt Nots”. we must believe, and when we doubt, we must convince ourselves, that they were born out of an absolutely beautiful-mysterious-loving covenant between GOD and his people. GOD made covenant with his people – to deliver them from slavery: to free them of oppression: to breathe life where death reigned.

and the decalogue (the ten words) is at it’s most profound and simplest form: a response. not strictly and only the response of GOD, but of the people! it’s the response of children toward their loving parents. it’s the response of rescued people toward their heroic savior! it’s the response of fallen humanity toward the creator-GOD who lifts them up! it was their way of saying, “YES! we thank you, we adore you, we trust you.”

the ten commandments are part of the covenant and they are a natural response of trust, grace, and love.

it’s GOD reaching down and saying, i have rescued you, like i said i would and like my name declares; now trust me on this one, if you want to live life to the fullest, here are some life-giving boundaries you will need as you grow in me.

[selah]

like. for starters, you are not to have any gods before me. because i am a jealous god and i want you all to myself.

also. it’s really not all that life-giving if you meet someone and within a few minutes, they’re dead! so, don’t murder each other.

and the list goes on – but it’s a list filled with only life and love. peace and rest. trust and grace.

it’s written by the same god who will later breathe upon men to write, “it is for freedom that christ has set you free.”

the same god. YHWH. this is why it makes sense when yeshua (GOD in the flesh) is found teaching one of his disciples,

“Philip said, “Lord [yeshua], show us the Father [GOD almighty] and that will be enough for us.” Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?  Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work.”

yes. the same god. the god of the first covenant, now appearing to make a second covenant and the question really isn’t, “is GOD love?” – he is and we’ve seen that. the question becomes, “what is our response to this god-who-is-love?” will we, the children of the second covenant, respond in obedience? will we trust that his ways are the ‘most excellent’ as paul writes? will we offer up our lives as living sacrifices? will we give up everything to be a part of something that is bigger than anything?

essentially, will we be brave? i don’t know. i hope so. i want to be. i am trying. “but what if i stumble, what if i fall?” (nice little d.c. talk quote).

it is not the falling down that will suck the life and love out of our souls, it is the abrupt quitting and the sudden stop; it is the refusal to trust GOD that he has forgiven us: to not believe that we have a choice to get back up. richard foster writes, “If we fall down – and we will fall down – we get up and seek to obey again. We are forming the habit of obedience…”

may we remember that christ makes us brave and may we, who are prone to reject commitment, embrace a life of forming the habit of obedience. so that we may become lovers of GOD and lovers of people, living life to the fullest. amen.

a video for reflection and contemplation can also be viewed here:

http://bit.ly/7uiYlS

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despite my unbelief, i believe that who i am is a son of the only living god & king, YHWH [blessed be his name]. a son of the resurrection. a son of the wind which bends all things.

“I am so thankful that I understand grace.” – Anonymous

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quite simply, i don’t understand grace: i don’t grasp her scandalous ways: grace wrecks me.

i mean. i can define it. i can couch it in terms befitting of a love seat. yeah, sure, i know what it is. but do i know grace? do i embody grace the way my master embodies grace?

i guess sometimes i do. there certainly are times i am gracious. but no sooner are my hands offering grace, offering you a drink to quench your thirst than they are releasing the splintered, well-worn handle of the knife in your back.

[selah]

and do you know what disturbs me? i wrote the previous word picture, the one about the water and the knife, quickly. almost too quickly. for as soon as i began meditating – these words invaded my kingdom, my own little world where i sometimes like to reign, these words marched in:

“then the righteous will answer him, ‘lord, when did we see you hungry, and feed you, or thirsty, and give you something to drink? the king will reply, ‘i tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these, you did it to me.’”

AND. THAT. IS. grace.

that the one we offer water to with our right hand, and stab in the back with our left, is our master. yet he continues to remember us, to save us, to strengthen us, to lead us, and love us. oh how he loves us.

he takes us by our left hand, filled with splinters, just as he does our right; oh the grace.

he gives us hope and makes us whole. he takes our place. he is grace, and he shows us himself at the cross. !*

[selah]

someone once said, “i am thankful i understand grace.” but i am thankful i don’t. i don’t want to understand it. i don’t want to put it in every other box in the world. i don’t want it to become a formula. i don’t want to understand grace. i want it to always wreck me – the way it does when i lift my voice with the hundreds of other voices on a clear sunday morning; the way it does when i see flowers pushing through the dirt; the way it does i hold my son close and realize he’s mine for a little while; the way it does when i see forgiveness at work, when saints put down their stones.

grace wrecks me. i am a son of the resurrection. i guess this makes me resu(wreck)ted. for i am ultimately wrecked by the resurrection itself. it won me over and washes over me now.

for me to live is christ, and to die is gain. and i don’t understand that – but i will continue to accept that.

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despite my unbelief, i believe that who i am is a son of the only living god & king, YHWH [blessed be his name]. a son of the resurrection. a son of the wind which bends all things.