Tag Archives: Story

The Gospel According to Harry Potter

The Gospel According to Harry Potter (CaD Rom 8) Wayfarer

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

Our daughters were the perfect age to get in on the original Harry Potter craze. Taylor turned nine the year that Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone hit number one on the New York Times Bestsellers List. She was roughly the same age as Harry, Ron, and Hermoine as the subsequent books were annually published. She and Madison literally grew up with these characters.

In yesterday’s post/podcast, I wrote about religious rulekeepers. Religious rule-keepers, by the way, are often reactionaries. They are quick to condemn at a distant whiff of impropriety. When the Harry Potter craze took off, they got themselves into a lather. I have learned along my life journey that when the Christian rule-keepers get into a lather, I should definitely check out what they’re upset about because I’ll probably love whatever it is they hate. This was certainly true with the Harry Potter books.

I have always held that all great stories are a reflection of the Great Story, and I found this to be true with Harry Potter. It is an epic story of good and evil set in an entertaining fantasy world just like The Chronicles of Narnia (which has witches, by the way) and Lord of the Rings (which has wizards, by the way) and A Midsummer’s Night Dream (which, by the way, has a talking donkey just like the Bible).

In today’s chapter, Paul writes of the supremacy of Christ’s love. When a person is baptized into Jesus and joined with Christ’s Spirit, they are filled with and surrounded by Love. Once this happens, Paul writes, “There is no more condemnation.” Not only that, but we can’t be separated from that Love by anything. As Paul described it to Jesus’ followers in Corinth: “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

In Harry Potter, it was the sacrificial love of his mother, who gave her life to protect her baby from evil that made Harry special. The wise sage Dumbledore forever tries to help Harry understand that it is the power of love that will ultimately defeat evil, though Harry simply can’t see it until it proves true in the end. What a beautiful story that illustrates the very Love that Paul is talking about in today’s chapter. A sacrificial Love that indwells, protects, perseveres, and conquers the darkness. A Love from which I can never be separated, even by darkness or demons.

In the quiet this morning, I found myself meditating on the fact that we so often discount the power of Love in a world where power is demonstrated by wealth, status, authority, influence, leverage, and force. Just like Harry, who dismisses Dumbledore’s assurance of love’s conquering power, it’s easy for me to feel that love seems to pale in comparison. Perhaps one could argue that it does pale in terms of this world’s perspective. As C.S. Lewis famously concluded, however, I was not made for this world. I was made for a Kingdom that is not of this world in which Love reigns supreme.

As a follower of Jesus, I am told that while I may not have been made for this world, I am in this world for a purpose. That purpose is to represent that eternal Kingdom in this fallen world, by loving others, even my enemies and those who have been deceived by evil. By the way, this is exactly how Dumbledore loved Draco by sacrificing himself to protect the young man from doing an evil thing that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

The Spectrum of Belief

The Spectrum of Belief (CaD Jhn 12) Wayfarer

Even after Jesus had performed so many signs in their presence, they still would not believe in him.
John 12:37 (NIV)

We are just over halfway through John’s account of Jesus’ story. John now shifts the narrative to focus on the final days of Jesus’ earthly journey. Almost half of John’s account is the events leading to Jesus’ crucifixion and His subsequent resurrection.

In today’s chapter, John shares about the wake of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Word spreads about the miracle. Lazarus and his sisters hold a feast to honor Jesus. Crowds are arriving for the Passover festival and the buzz is all about Jesus who raised a man named Lazarus from the dead. Everyone wants to meet both of them. It is on the wave of this #trending event that Jesus enters Jerusalem with crowds waving palm branches and proclaiming Him king.

As I sat back and looked at the structure of the chapter, it became clear to me that John prepares his readers for the final, climactic chapters by providing a survey of where people were on the spectrum of belief in Jesus.

It begins with Lazarus and his sisters, who have every reason to put their faith in Jesus. In particular, however, it is Mary who acts with humility and foresight in pouring perfume on Jesus’ feet and wiping them with her own hair. Jesus explains that she is preparing Jesus for His own burial. Mary not only believes, but she may be the only one who seems to understand what is about to happen to Jesus.

Next, John makes sure to mention Judas, his indignation at Mary wasting perfume that cost a year’s wages to give Jesus a foot bath. The money could have been sold and given to the poor, though John is sure to mention that what Judas really meant was it could be sold and put into the ministry’s money purse where he would have access to it. He will, instead, find another way to make 30 pieces of silver. Even among Jesus’ disciples was one who was on the unbelieving end of the spectrum.

Next are the crowds of Jews who have been recurring characters in John’s account. In the wake of Lazarus’ return from the grave, they are clamoring to get close to both Jesus and Lazarus. Of course, John has already made clear in the aftermath of the miracle of the Filet-o’-Fish Feast that the crowds are fickle. They’re all in on believing when it’s about free food or an entertaining spectacle, but they will move to the unbelieving side of the spectrum and chanting “Crucify Him!” in just a few days.

Then there are the religious leaders known as the Pharisees. They and the Chief Priests are hell-bent on killing Jesus, and now they add Lazarus to the hit list. How ironic that they want to kill the man who was just raised from the dead. These are the people on the extreme end of the unbelief side of the spectrum.

John then mentions Jesus’ disciples, himself included, and confesses that while they believed Jesus, they really didn’t understand what Jesus was doing or saying until after all of the events he’s recounting actually happened. So add to the spectrum those who believed, but didn’t really understand what it was that they were believing.

John also introduces us to a group of Greeks who were in town for the Passover festival. These were non-Jewish (a.k.a. Gentile) adherents to the Jewish faith but who weren’t fully circumcised converts. What’s fascinating about John adding this group to the mix is that by the time John wrote this account, the biggest controversy among the rapidly growing Jesus Movement was whether the large number of Greek Gentiles who were becoming believers must become Jewish converts before they could be considered good Christians. In response to this group of Greeks who want to meet Jesus, Jesus says “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” John’s first-century readers would have found these Greeks on the belief side of the spectrum to be very important to the mix, and a foreshadowing of the conflict within the Jesus Movement years later.

John then makes sure to mention that, despite all of Jesus’ signs and miracles, there were many unbelievers entrenched on the unbelief side of the spectrum. He seems to acknowledge those who would refuse to believe no matter what Jesus did or said.

John then mentions the Religious Leaders who secretly were on the believing side of the spectrum but who would not publicly acknowledge this. They fear the institutional union leadership who would have them kicked out (and maybe added to the hit list) if anyone were to find out they were believers.

In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but hear John’s unspoken question in the subtext. He’s given me all these different people and groups at various places on the spectrum from disbelief to belief. “So, Tom, where are you on the spectrum? With which person or group do you identify?

Of course, that’s the important question. I have to believe that it’s the motivation for John writing this primary source account in the first place. I find it fascinating that John places this belief spectrum right before the final events of the story. It’s as if John is taking my spiritual temperature leading into the climax. As a life-long disciple, I find it worthwhile to ponder this question anew, especially in this season of Lent when believers all over the world are introspectively walking through the climax of the story together.

I enter another day of this earthly journey with Jesus’ words from today’s chapter ringing in my ears: “For I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Watershed Moment

Watershed Moment (CaD Jhn 11) Wayfarer

“But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”
John 11:8 (NIV)

Certain movie scenes stand out in my memory because of the way the entire storyline of a movie hinges on that one moment. For example, in The Godfather, it is Michael’s late-night visit to the hospital to find his father alone. In the darkness, he whispers to his father, “It’s okay. I’m with you now.” From that point on, the son who wanted nothing to do with his father’s business will be on a trajectory to become the very thing he once despised.

Today’s chapter contains a similar dramatic and pivotal episode in Jesus’ story. This is the seventh and final miraculous “sign” that John chooses to share before shifting to Jesus’ fateful and final days. It is not only the most dramatic of the seven because of the miracle itself, but because the event pushes Jesus’ enemies into a conspiracy to commit murder and rid themselves of Jesus once-and-for-all.

The conflict between Jesus and the chief priests in Jerusalem was already at a boiling point. Jesus had escaped attempts to arrest Him and stone Him the last time He had been in Jerusalem. Because of this, He left the region altogether. But now Jesus gets word that His good friend, Lazarus is gravely ill. Lazarus and his sisters live in Bethany, a stone’s throw from Jerusalem and the Chief Priests.

By the time Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been lying in the grave for four days. Mourners from Jerusalem had gathered to comfort the family. There is a big crowd on hand.

Part of the drama of the moment for me is in John’s careful crafting of the human emotion of the moment. He emphasizes Jesus’ love for Lazarus and his sisters. There’s the wailing and lamenting of the friends gathered with the sisters at the tomb. John also records Jesus’ own emotions with the simple declaration “Jesus wept.” And then, amid the grief and despair, Jesus orders the stone rolled away and loudly commands Lazarus to exit the grave.

The raising of Lazarus from the dead was a watershed moment on multiple levels. The crowd of witnesses and the public display ensured that word would spread like wildfire. The proximity to Jerusalem ensured that word would quickly reach Jesus’ enemies. With this particular sign, Jesus also foreshadows the impending end of His own earthly journey through death to resurrection. Lazarus, meanwhile, would be a living witness to Jesus’ miraculous power, leading Jesus’ enemies to conspire to send him back to the grave as well.

As I meditated on this dramatic scene in the quiet this morning, it once again seemed clear to me that Jesus was not a victim of circumstance. He was very clearly driving the action. Jesus had already declared how His earthly journey would end. With the raising of Lazarus, He was putting the wheels into motion that would lead right where He always knew things would end up.

Along my own earthly journey as a disciple of Jesus, I have been able to look back on my journey and see how certain watershed moments in my story were instrumental in driving the action. Even difficult and hard times have resulted in spiritual growth, deeper levels of maturity, and they have led to places where I’ve experienced life in greater and more fulfilling ways.

The story of Lazarus is really a microcosm of the Great Story itself. Death leads to new life just as winter leads to spring. Or, as David penned in his lyrics of Psalm 30, weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

I find this a good reminder for the start of a new work week. Just as Jesus shared with Lazarus’ sisters, if I believe Jesus truly the Resurrection and the Life, I am assured that the darkest of earthly circumstances eventually end in light, the saddest of times ultimately give way to joy, and even death itself is simply a gateway to new life.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

“Perhaps…”

"Perhaps…" (CaD Phm 1) Wayfarer

Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back forever— no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother.
Philemon 1:15-16 (NIV)

Just this morning I received an unexpected text from a friend asking Wendy and me to pray. Life has thrown one of those wicked curveballs and suddenly everything in life is reeling in ways that feel completely out of control. As I confessed in a poster a few days ago to having a pretty miserable week myself, I’m feeling acute empathy for my friend. Prayers have commenced for them.

When life throws a wicked curve, I always find myself asking some of the same questions:

“How did we get here?”

“Why is this happening?”

“God?! What are you doing? Don’t you care?!”

“Where is this going to lead?”

Today’s chapter is a letter that Paul wrote from prison to a wealthy friend and fellow believer. His name was Philemon (hence the title of the epistle), and he was a good friend of Paul’s, a financial supporter of Paul, and Paul had previously lived as a guest in Philemon’s home.

Philemon had a slave named Onesimus. Long story short, Onesimus stole from Philemon and made a run for freedom. While we don’t know the back story of the relationship between Onesimus and Philemon, I can assume that Onesimus’ actions amounted to throwing a wicked curveball at Philemon and his household. It would not surprise me if Philemon had written Onesimus off and harbored ill feelings towards him.

What happens next is amazing. The runaway Onesimus somehow runs right into Paul. How and why, we don’t know, but Paul graciously takes Onesimus under his wing, Onesimus becomes a believer, and Paul comes to consider the runaway his “son.”

This very tender letter is sent to Philemon in the very hands of the runaway, Onesimus. The runaway slave arrives at his former owner’s house, letter in hand. I can only imagine what emotions each of them was feeling at this reunion.

I love Paul’s letter when he communicates that perhaps there was a divine purpose in Onesimus running away. Perhaps that needed to happen so that he could run into Paul and become a believer, and ultimately bring about an unforeseen reunion, restoration, and a redemptive ending to an otherwise wicked curveball situation.

I have written many times in these posts about the Chain Reaction of Praise that Wendy and I have been practicing for years. In the heat of the moment when the curveball comes at us in what appears to be a total strikeout, we step away from the plate, take a deep breath and consciously move into “perhaps” mode. We may not see clearly, in that moment, how God might redeem our circumstances. It might even feel hopeless. But time and time again we have experienced God ultimately redeeming circumstances in ways we could never have imagined, and weaving purpose into our stories that were impossible to see when we were initially reeling in the circumstances.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself recounting all of the wicked curve balls life has thrown at me. I find myself remembering what it felt like in the moment, as well as the redemptive endings that eventually occurred in each one. In doing so, it reminds me that there is a “perhaps” to my miserable week. I just don’t see it yet.

Note to my regular readers, listeners, and subscribers!
I am taking a three week vacation starting next week. While I’m gone, I’m going to be republishing the top fifteen chapter-a-day posts from 2023 as determined by the total number of page views and podcast plays. We’ll start at number 15 next Monday and end up with number 1 on Friday, February 16. See you in a few weeks!

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Hidden in Plain Sight

Hidden in Plain Sight (CaD Lk 18) Wayfarer

Those who led the way rebuked [the blind man] and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Luke 18:39 (NIV)

Happy New Year!

One of the things I can expect every New Year in the media is the so-called experts’ picks of the “best” and “worst” things from the previous year. I’ve come to learn that my agreement with such lists is highly dependent on how aligned the “expert” and I am in the determination of what makes a good movie, song, or book.

When I was in college, there was quite a bit of consensus among movie critics and experts that Orson Welles’ classic Citizen Kane was the greatest movie ever made. If you’ve never seen it, it’s worth watching. The tale of a man who gains the whole world and loses his soul along the way is truly a masterpiece.

One of the things I love about both great movies and great books is the way that stories are crafted. The entire story of Charles Foster Kane is presented to us in the opening scene of Citizen Kane. As viewers, we simply don’t know it yet. I can watch great movies countless times because I can perpetually find things I’ve never seen before. The writers and directors placed things into scenes and dialogue that are hidden from me in plain sight.

In the same way, as I make my way over and over again through the Great Story, I perpetually see things that have been hiding in plain sight. I long ago realized that one of the mistakes I made for years was allowing myself to focus too intently on one word, one verse, or one passage a time that I missed the larger picture that the Author of Creation has connected throughout the Great Story. Today’s chapter is a great example.

In most modern Bibles, the text is broken up into chapters. Within each chapter, there are sections and verses. In today’s chapter, there are six different episodes or sections that the editors have called out for me with titles. This very paradigm of layout causes me to mentally compartmentalize as I’m reading and thinking. Yet, I’ve learned on this chapter-a-day journey that the meaning is often in the connection between the episodes just as there are connections between the books in the larger Great Story. I’ve had to train my brain to look at the larger story, books, chapters, and episodes for the connections between them.

Today’s chapter begins with a parable about a poor widow who pesters a Judge begging for justice. He ignores her at first, but her persistence leads to him taking her case just to shut her up. Jesus says prayer works like this. Keep praying, He says. Don’t give up.

In the very next episode, Jesus tells a parable contrasting a self-righteous religious leader who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips with a poor wretch of a tax collector who knows the depth of his own sins and failures. The latter simply prays for the same thing over and over again (just like the persistent widow), “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

Later in the chapter, Jesus once again tells The Twelve that He’s been a dead man walking on this trip to Jerusalem that they’ve been on since chapter nine. He’s going to Jerusalem to be betrayed, arrested, and executed, before rising from the dead. Luke then makes the observation that The Twelve did not get what Jesus was talking about even though this is the third time He has said it plainly. “Its meaning was hidden from them,” Luke writes.

In the final episode of the chapter, Jesus has a huge crowd around Him as He approaches the city of Jericho. Jericho is eighteen miles from Jerusalem, so Jesus is getting close to His destination. There is a blind man who is told that the commotion he’s hearing is because Jesus the Nazarene preacher everyone has been talking about is passing by. The blind man immediately begins shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!

Let’s connect the dots.

The blind man begins shouting the same thing over and over, just like the persistent widow, so that everyone around him is annoyed just like the judge in Jesus’ parable.

What this poor blind wretch shouts is “Have mercy on me” just like the tax collector in Jesus’ parable.

In his repeated cries, the blind man calls Jesus “Son of David.” In Jesus’ day, this was a term people used to refer to the coming Messiah because the prophets had declared the Messiah would come through the line of David (which Jesus did, btw, Luke established that in the genealogy he put into chapter three, yet another connection. In recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, the “Son of David,” this blind man on the side of the road saw what others couldn’t see just as we learned that things were “hidden” in plain sight from Jesus’ closest followers.

The blind man saw who Jesus was while the fullness of Jesus and His mission were hidden from those with 20-20 vision. Jesus heals the annoying man who was shouting his repeated prayer for mercy, showing mercy just as the Judge had done for the poor widow in His parable.

By the way, how fascinating that this happens in Jericho, where God once miraculously caused the walls to come a tumblin’ down. I find something prescient in this connection.

In the quiet this morning, I’m once again blown away by how the Great Story connects. I’m humbled to think that I am not persistent enough in my prayers, and for all my knowledge I acknowledge just how many spiritual realities of God’s kingdom are hiding from me in plain site just like the story of Charles Foster Kane is hidden in a falling snow globe and the cryptic whisper, “Rosebud.”

As I enter a new year, a new work week, a new day – the echo of my heart is set on a persistent, repeating prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Walking the Talk

Walking the Talk (CaD Lk 13) Wayfarer

“In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!”
Luke 13:33 (NIV)

I’m excited this Christmas to see the movie Freud’s Last Session with Anthony Hopkins. It’s an adaptation of an amazing little one-act play that imagines a conversation between a dying Sigmund Freud and a young Oxford professor named C.S. Lewis in 1939 London. Sadly, my friend Kevin and I were preparing to produce the show in conjunction with a college theatre department a few years ago until an individual got us cancelled. It remains a huge disappointment we never got to do the show.

There are several scripts and books that have been written over the years imagining conversations between different historical figures or imagined events around historical characters. I’ve always found the genre fascinating. When I was just a kid, the youth of our local church performed a play in which Pontius Pilate is placed on trial for Jesus’ murder. Members of the audience acted as the jury. If I remember correctly, my father was the Jury foreman. They acquitted Pilate.

Sadly, the death of Jesus was historically used as a reason for antisemitism. In our current wave of public and institutional antisemitism, I feel it important to acknowledge this sad historical fact. It is rooted in the Roman Emporer Constantine’s decision to make Christianity the official religion of Rome in the early fourth century. It was one of many bad things that happened after the organic Jesus Movement became the Holy Roman Empire. Constantine planted the seeds of antisemitism that would lead to centuries of Jewish persecution by the institutional church.

As I have studied the final days of Jesus for many years, I’ve concluded that the death of Jesus was the result of a perfect storm of antagonist power brokers representing the earthly kingdoms of politics, commerce, and religion. (A few years ago I presented my review of Jesus’ arrest and trials in a Good Friday message, FWIW)

A few chapters ago, Luke records that Jesus “resolutely set out for Jerusalem.” Jesus has been traveling toward Jerusalem and is getting close to His destination. In today’s chapter, Luke foreshadows the three key players who will have Jesus crucified.

It begins in the first verse of today’s chapter as Jesus hears news of the Roman governor’s cruelty. Pontius Pilate represents the Empire, and in the political powder keg of Jerusalem, Pilate is not afraid to use force and violence to quell issues. There was a group of people from Galilee who ended up creating trouble. Their offense is not known, but Pilate had them slaughtered and their blood was mixed with their sacrifices. It was a highly blasphemous act of imperial power, intended to send a message to the many zealots who sought to defy Rome.

The next episode Luke records is the religious leaders who continue to antagonize and oppose Jesus. He heals a crippled woman on the Sabbath day of rest, and the religious leaders call Him out for it. Jesus turns the tables on them and Luke records that Jesus’ “opponents were humiliated.” As Jesus continues to humiliate and threaten the power and wealth of the religious establishment, those religious leaders with the most to lose are motivated to have Jesus eliminated.

But Luke also records that “the people were delighted with all the wonderful things He was doing.” Even some of the religious establishment became fans and followers, and Jesus was drawing crowds that numbered in the thousands. The crowds alone were a threat.

At the end of Today’s chapter, Luke mentions the third piece of the unholy trinity of power brokers who will have Jesus’ killed. Some Pharisees who were fans and followers of Jesus told Him to change course and avoid Jerusalem because Herod had already put a price on Jesus’ head. Herod was the regional ruler who had John the Baptist murdered because John had antagonized Herod and turned the crowds against him. Herod had heard the rumors that Jesus might just be John the Baptist risen from the dead. Herod had learned from his father, Herod the Great, that remaining in power means the swift and violent elimination of potential threats, like having all the baby boys two years or younger slaughtered because of rumors the messiah had been born in Bethlehem.

Jesus, however, remains “resolute” in His trek to Jerusalem. He has no illusions about what is going to happen. In fact, everything that He does and says in public only pushes the hands of these political, religious, and commercial power brokers. Jesus states that He must press on to Jerusalem “for surely no prophet can die outside of Jerusalem.”

Jesus knows He is going to Jerusalem to be killed.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself thinking about my post yesterday in which Jesus implores me and all of His followers to approach our earthly realities in context to the larger eternal realities of God’s Kingdom. Jesus is walking the talk.

How can I follow in His footsteps today?

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Morality Tales

Morality Tale (CaD Job 27) Wayfarer

I will never admit you are in the right;
    till I die, I will not deny my integrity.

Job 27:5 (NIV)

In my previous post, I mentioned that I was surprised no one has tried to stage the book of Job. As this thought continued to swirl inside my head, I realized where the connection came from in my brain. My senior thesis in college was about the decline of medieval religious dramas. Admittedly, this topic is not something that sparks the interest of any normal person…or any crazy person for that matter.

There was an entire genre of plays in the 14th to 16th centuries known simply as Morality Plays. They typically had a protagonist who was being torn between virtues and vices, with angels and demons present to persuade the protagonist toward the conflicting desires. It’s an expanded version of the commonly referenced motif of conscience with an angel on one shoulder and a demon on the other. The story arc of Morality Plays followed a pattern that you can still find lying beneath movies and novels today: temptation, fall, and redemption.

In that sense, Job has the distinct flavor of an ancient Morality Play, but with the twist of a protagonist who finds himself having experienced the consequences of the fall without ever having chosen to succumb to any tempting vice. This is the crux of the debate between Job and his friends. In their world-view, life is one big Morality Play in which a person’s suffering is always connected to that person’s vices.

Today’s chapter is Job’s summation of the back-and-forth conversation between Job and his three friends. He opened with a statement (chapter three), there were three rounds of discourses, and in today’s chapter Job gets the final word.

In his wrap up, Job maintains his innocence and integrity. He basically holds fast in stating that he had done nothing so wicked that he deserved his suffering. What’s fascinating is that he then goes on to agree with his friends’ premise that the wicked deserve, and ultimately receive, their just desserts. Job finds himself an exception to the general rule of his and his friends’ moral world-view.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself circling back to the concept of rules and exceptions that I’ve written about before. Life is filled with general observable patterns in which choices and consequences connect both positively (I choose to do the right thing, and I sleep soundly with a clear conscience) and negatively (I choose to do the wrong thing, have a guilty conscience, get caught, and face negative reciprocations of my wrong-doing). These patterns are the foundation of Morality Tales both in medieval times as well as today. But there are exceptions to those general rules in a fallen world in which sinful individuals have the free will to make choices. Amanda Knox was railroaded and convicted of a murder she didn’t commit. Jack the ripper was never found nor punished.

Jesus was adamant with his disciples that we are to reserve judgment of others. Job’s friends have made judgments about Job without having all of the knowledge or facts of the situation. Job has made judgments about God without having all of the knowledge or facts of the situation. As a disciple of Jesus, I’m called to humbly admit when I don’t have the right to judge another person, and to graciously forgive when I do. Jesus offers no exemptions to the Law of Love.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Up From the Ashes

Up From the Ashes (CaD Jer 32) Wayfarer

For this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: Houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.’
Jeremiah 32:15 (NIV)

For many years, Wendy and I have been part of a wine club. Every quarter we receive bottles of wine from small winemakers around the world, many of them small family vineyards. In recent years, one of our favorites has been a Sicilian wine called Tenuta Fenice, which means “House of the Phoenix.”

Back in 1968, a devastating earthquake destroyed the everything in the village where Dino Taschetta’s family grew their vineyards and made their wine. Everyone abandoned the region. In 2016, Dino returned to the ruins of his family estate and, from the ashes, resurrected his family’s vineyard of ancient, slow-growing vines. That year he produced the first vintage of Tenuta Fenice in a half-century.

I thought of this story as I read today’s chapter. Jeremiah is confined to the palace in Jerusalem, under house arrest. Jerusalem is surrounded by the Babylonian army who are laying siege to it. Jeremiah’s relative visits the prophet and offers to sell him a field.

Consider with me, for a moment, how ludicrous this proposition really is. Jerusalem is under siege. The Babylonian army surrounds it, everyone inside the city walls is trapped, nothing is getting in-or-out. There is little to no hope that anyone will survive, and once the city is ransacked and destroyed, the Babylonians will control everything. Everyone inside Jerusalem is starving, food is scarce, and inflation is through the roof. Every person needs their last shekel of silver to buy what scraps of food are left in the city. The most stupid thing you could do in this moment is spend your silver buying a field that you won’t ever see because you’re likely to be dead. Even if you do survive, the conquering Babylonians could claim it and its produce, leaving you with nothing.

Jeremiah buys the field, as God directs him.

It’s not a personal investment but a powerful word-picture.

Yes, the Babylonians will destroy the city.

Yes, those who survive will likely end up in captivity.

Yes, everyone’s emotional brains and survival instincts have kicked into overdrive and no one can think beyond how they might possible make it through their immediate, dire circumstances.

Nevertheless, Jeremiah buys a field, a vineyard. Jeremiah is looking beyond his momentary circumstances to embrace the larger story God is authoring in their tragic events. In doing so, Jerry foreshadows the same perspective Paul had despite suffering shipwrecks, imprisonment, beatings, lashings, and hardship I can’t possibly imagine:

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (NIV)

Though Jeremiah will not survive to see it, he purchases a field with the faith and hope of the promise God has proclaimed through him over, and over, and over again: After seventy years, God will bring his people back. The city will be rebuilt. The temple will be rebuilt. Wine will pour once again from this vineyard.

In fact, in about 500 years the wine of the new covenant will be poured out in this very city for the forgiveness of sins, and the hope of humanity. Wouldn’t it be ironic if the wine at Jesus’ last supper was from the vineyard Jeremiah purchased in today’s chapter?

In the quiet this morning, I contemplate the story of Jeremiah’s seemingly silly purchase. I contemplate the story of Dino Taschetta’s family vineyard, and their wine called “House of the Phoenix.” The mythical Phoenix was a popular symbol among Jesus’ early followers. The bird that rises up from the ashes to new life. Wouldn’t you know it, I’m preparing a message for my local gathering of Jesus’ followers this Sunday. The text? “I am the resurrection, and the life.”

I love God’s timing.

Up from the ashes. No matter the hopelessness of my momentary circumstances, God promises there is a larger Story He’s authoring.

I will trust the Story.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Lost and Found

[King Josiah] stood by the pillar and renewed the covenant in the presence of the Lord—to follow the Lord and keep his commands, statutes and decrees with all his heart and all his soul, thus confirming the words of the covenant written in this book. Then all the people pledged themselves to the covenant.
2 Kings 23:3 (NIV)

One of the common themes of all great stories is when the hero loses his or her way. We see it in Luke Skywalker in Star Wars Episode VIII as he has chosen self-exile. Ron Weasley similarly chooses out in the Deathly Hallows. Edmund loses his way and follows the White Witch in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. In The Hobbit, it is Bilbo who loses his way in the Misty Mountains where he happens to find a plain-looking golden ring in the darkness. Despite his insistence that he would never fall away, Peter denies that he knows Jesus three times.

Along my spiritual journey, I have come to embrace that losing one’s way is a common theme for a lot of us. As I look back on my own life journey, I can humbly point back to a period of time I call “the dark years,” in which I lost my way and made many regrettable choices.

In the Great Story told between Genesis and Revelation the theme of losing one’s way is recurring. From the Hebrew tribes “wandering in the wilderness” for 40 years to the exile of Israel and Judah in Assyria and Babylon to Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son, the tale of losing one’s way is a familiar one.

In today’s chapter, King Josiah reads the recently discovered Books of Moses to his people. We have no idea how long it had been since the story of Moses delivering the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt and God establishing a covenant with them had been read. It says in today’s chapter that the annual Passover Feast prescribed by God had not been celebrated “neither in the days of the judges who led Israel nor in the days of the kings of Israel and the kings of Judah.” That’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 800 years.

Today’s chapter is essentially about coming home, the Prodigal’s return, and the hero finding his or her way back to the path. Luke shows up to deliver the rebel forces in stunning form. Ron returns just in time to save Harry. Edmund is redeemed and restored by Aslan. Bilbo finds his way back to Thorin and Company with the ring that will help him facilitate the overthrow of Smaug. Jesus restores Peter on the shore of Galilee with three affirmations of his calling. Josiah leads the nation in renewing their covenant with the God who delivered and established them.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that losing one’s way is a very common story. Jesus told stories about lost coins and lost sheep as well as a lost child. The stories are ultimately not about being lost, but about being found. The Shepherd risks the entire flock to search for the lost sheep until it’s found. The Prodigal’s father waits patiently and expectantly on the porch to catch sight of his child’s return. The found book helps Josiah and God’s people to find their way back to God.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

For the spiritual pilgrim, there’s both encouragement and hope in the revelation that God expectantly desires that I find my way back to Him.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

The Untold Stories

The Untold Stories (CaD 2 Ki 21) Wayfarer

Moreover, Manasseh also shed so much innocent blood that he filled Jerusalem from end to end—besides the sin that he had caused Judah to commit, so that they did evil in the eyes of the Lord.
2 Kings 21:16 (NIV)

While on vacation this past week I finished watching The Hunters on Amazon Prime. It’s an interesting alternative history story about an eclectic troupe of vigilante Nazi hunters who discover that Hitler is still alive and living in Argentina. They are determined to bring him to justice. It was an interesting story (and it is definitely for mature audiences only).

I have a confession to make. Over my life journey, I have found myself really enjoying tales of vigilante justice like The Hunters. My favorite Marvel character has always been the Punisher, the series about a dark, broken man bent on delivering justice to those who killed his family.

I have given a lot of thought to why this genre resonates so deeply with me. It’s easy to think that it’s about a sense of justice. There is no doubt that it feels good to see the bad guys “die by the sword,” as Jesus put it. I think there’s more to it than that. I’ve come to realize that I feel deeply for the anti-hero and the pain that drives them. As an Enneagram Type Four, this makes perfect sense. We tend to love brooding, dramatic melancholy. At the same time, I’ve come to realize that while I find it easy to extend grace to the vigilante protagonist for the pain that drives them, I have zero grace for their victims. They are typically portrayed as pure evil deserving of the violent justice the protagonist vengefully delivers.

I found myself thinking about this in the quiet this morning after reading today’s chapter about King Manasseh. The description of him is that of pure evil. He did nothing right. He did everything wrong. He committed child sacrifice with his own child. He was idolatrous, ruled with violence, and led his people astray.

Someone call the Punisher! The world needs to be rid of evil, no-good, very bad Manasseh!!

I then went to 2 Chronicles 33 to read another account of Manasseh’s story. There were some important pieces of the story that the author of Kings conveniently ignored. Late in life, Manasseh was humiliated by the Assyrians. He was taken captive, placed in shackles, and a hook was placed in his nose. They drug him to Babylon. There, having hit rock bottom, Manasseh realized the error of his ways. He repented of his sin and turned his heart to God. Upon his return, he spent his remaining days trying to undo all the idolatrous evil that he had done.

And, as a disciple of Jesus, there is the rub. Manasseh’s “untold story” changes the way I think about him. The antagonists I so easily dismiss in vigilante stories as pure evil have their own stories. My “enemies” have their own untold stories. Jesus calls me to look at my enemy and consider the story that God desires to author in his or her life. That was the example Jesus set for me.

Jesus had grace and forgiveness for the “evil” Romans who mercilessly mocked Him, beat Him, and executed Him.

Jesus told the no-good, very bad criminal on the cross next to Him that He would take the man to heaven, even though the man said he deserved to die for all the things he’d done.

Jesus told Peter that he should forgive his enemy “seventy times seven” and then provided Peter an example by graciously forgiving Peter’s three denials.

I find it easy to have grace for the broken vigilantes dealing out justice. I know their backstories. Yet, in God’s economy, the vigilante’s victims also have their own backstories. What kind of pain and brokenness led them to their lives of evil? Like Manasseh in today’s chapter, those details are conveniently left out of the story by the authors. It makes me want to ignore the fact that those whom I hate have their own stories, too.

I thought about this as I watched The Hunters killing off all of the murderous, unrepentant Nazis. And then I thought of the true story of Corrie Ten Boom, who traveled the world telling her story of her family’s Christian faith that led them to hide Jews in their home. They were caught and sent to a Nazi concentration camp with the Jews. She alone survived. One day after telling her story to an audience, she was approached by one of the former concentration camp guards. He was humbled, repentant, and asked for her forgiveness.

God was at work in his story, too.

Don’t overlook the obvious here, friends. With God, one day is as good as a thousand years, a thousand years as a day. God isn’t late with his promise as some measure lateness. He is restraining himself on account of you, holding back the End because he doesn’t want anyone lost. He’s giving everyone space and time to change.
2 Peter 3:9 (MSG)

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.