SO Not the Plan (2)

...so what I'm wondering is, if it took just 400 years of silence for these people to "miss" their Messiah's coming, what about us, 2000+ years later?

I wonder how our kingdoms (even the Christian ones) get in the way of letting Jesus be King.

I wonder how often I am Herod...too often, I think.

I wonder, even within the Church, how often we're staring Him right in the face and don't even know it b/c we're too busy singing our songs and proclaiming our message. 

I wonder what He would say if we would all just quiet down. 

Silence.  God waited through 400 years of silence before sending His Son.  I don't think it's an accident that quietness was part of the plan.  Maybe the other voices needed to fade.  Maybe a craving had to arise within the heart of mankind for the sound of God on earth again. 

I think I feel that craving.  I'm craving a quietness - when our fingers stop typing, the harmonies stop competing and the sermons stop attacking.  When the Do's and the Don'ts and the Don'ts and the Do's just hush a minute... 

I'm craving a silence long enough for His sound to be heard again - not just His Voice, but His Sound. 

A voice is largely identifiable, but a sound - a sound is recognized through intimacy, through experience.  I know the sound of my dad's coming - I know the jingle of his keys, the clearing of his throat, the stroke of his pen.  I know when he is there and when he is not by his sound. 

I wonder what the sound of God is on the earth today.  I wonder if we even notice it.  I wonder if we recognize it.

I don't know what that sound is, but I have an idea.  Still, today I'm challenged to silence all of my ideas in the hope that He will be heard.  His voice, His sound, His breath, His coming.

Sssshhhh...

Jesus has something He wants to say...

SO Not the Plan... (1)

Most of us are already familiar with the story of Christ's birth.  We've heard the story about Herod the Great, the King of the Jews at the time, who sought to have Jesus killed as a baby.  I guess I had always just taken it for granted, but after two decades of hearing this story, I started to wonder, why would Herod be so terrified?  Why would he so violently set out an emergency attack to murder this baby Jesus?

This was supposed to be his Messiah.

This should have been his good news.

But to Herod the Great, the arrival of the long-awaited Messiah was no good news at all.  Jesus was a descendant of Jacob.  Herod was a descendant of Esau.  The descendants of Jacob and Esau had fought through the ages to rule over one another.  Finally, Esau was winning.  Esau's line had taken the throne.  Herod was king, and he would have no other ruler, not even God Himself, take over his throne.

Oh, assumptions and misunderstandings.  We're so good at them.  Herod assumed Jesus the Messiah would be after his throne.  He misunderstood that Jesus wasn't in need of any throne.  Jesus was in need of a cross.

We are Herod.

We long for our Messiah to come.  We wait for God to reveal Himself.  Until the King does come and He's not what we expected.  We fear His threat to our kingdoms, our ways.  We're building a life for ourselves, and the idea that He might tamper with our success, well, it's a little disturbing.  So Herod kills his very own Messiah, and we crucify our very own Christ because to let Him live, to let Him reign in our place, would be very, very expensive.

The people were no better.  Many dreamed of a Messiah who would come and destroy their enemies, set up their kingdoms, and settle their prosperity.  But prosperity was not the priority of Christ.  People.  People were the priority of Christ.  In all of His odd, unexpected ways, Jesus set out to restore the kingdom of God among men, but it was nothing like they had imagined.  Instead of ruling, there was serving.  Instead of fighting, there was forgiving.  Instead of vengeance, there was sacrifice, rooted and grounded in love.

This is not the Messiah we requested.  Can we send this One back?

This was so not the plan...

Found in Translation

Chewing on this...

I was thinking today about the proper translation of the Word of God.  The Bible has been translated into hundreds of languages, over hundreds of years, and for each translation to be as accurate as possible, each version has to be copied from the original languages in which it was written - Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek.  This means we cannot be satisfied with a Bible that has been translated from Greek to Latin to Italian to German to English...and so forth.  That is a grave risk.  Like a game of telephone, the Great Message of all messages would easily be lost in translation.  No, I need a Bible that's been translated straight from the original to the English...no other languages in between.   

Now hang with me.  If this is true with the written Word of God...how much MORE true is this with the Living Word, Christ Himself?

Just as the Bible in my hands is a written copy of an original Hebrew/Aramaic/Greek Bible from days of old, so my LIFE is to be a proper translation of the original Living Word, Jesus Christ.  So often we imitate one Christian or another, yet we fail to imitate Christ.  We are debating over "who follows Peter and who follows Paul," when the cry of the Scriptures is follow Christ!  I've ministered in loads of churches and youth ministries.  Probably my greatest frustration in church ministry has come from realizing how much people have fallen in love with their pastors, and how little they actually know and love Jesus.  Hello...He's the point!!!

Today Jesus challenged me with this:  Is my life a proper translation of the original Living Word?  Am I presenting Him in proper context?  Am I giving an accurate understanding of who He truly is through my life, in both word and deed?  Do people know what Jesus is really like because of me, or is He lost in the translation of my life?

My challenge today from Jesus was to measure my life against the Original.  He is both my Origin and my Destination, yet way too many times I find myself using other "copies" as a measuring rod.  But Jesus is the standard.  He is the canon against which my life must be weighed.  Am I living like Jesus?  This is the goal and the purpose of my life.

So tonight I am praying that Jesus will be found in my translation.  I am praying that people will know the truth about who He really is because I represent Him accurately, with love, grace and truth.  God, let Your Word that is written on my heart be purely reflected in my life.  You are the point.  My eyes are on You.

Eye on the Prize, Tara.  Eye on the Prize. 

"Looking from all that will distract, to JESUS, who is the Author and Finisher of our faith..."

Uncovered

Brace yourself, this is about to be awkward (you're welcome)...

I heard yet another hilarious story this week about my 4 year old nephew Jaden.  He was (supposed to be) taking a nap, when my sister went in to check on him.  Did she find him sleeping sound, snuggled up in his big-boy bed?  Of course not.  Instead, she walked in to find Jaden, buck naked, riding an enormous stuffed lion on top of his bed...like a cowboy.  Ahh, good innocent fun for the toddler.

I was retelling this story to my friend Becky, and I was struck with a thought I probably should've kept to myself...but, being the Queen of Awkward, I carried on :)  "What it is that makes kids love playing around naked so much?  I mean, I highly doubt you're ever going to walk in on an adult doing this...riding a stuffed animal while naked.  What if we did this just because we felt like it, too?  What's the difference between them and us?"

Becky's reply?  "I was naked, so I hid."

My reply? "Uh huh huh huh huh huhhhhhh...." 

Sucker-punch, Szaro.

I know this.  I've heard it a million times - the image of nakedness in the garden of Eden; of innocence lost, of shame and guilt entering the door of our souls through sin.  I get it; at least, I mentally get it.  But I guess I'm still finding daily that I have to ask God to restore me, again, today...and then again, tomorrow...and again, the next day.  I'm finding that each day something within me feels the need to retreat, to run and hide from Him among the trees so that the worst of me will not be seen.  But still, He calls me; He dares me to trust Him with it all - to come, uncovered before the One with whom I am always safe. 

I love the story of David in 2 Samuel 6 when he dances through the streets in praise.  The writer mentions that he stripped off his outer garment, which in a sense, means the psalmist got naked.  I know, we can't all just strip down and call it worship every day.  This would be quite distracting, of course, and in many cases, very, very disturbing.  And I'm probably not going to be endorsing nude devos any time soon, but there is still that part of me that wants to be more like Jaden.  I want to be like that little boy who playfully and innocently strips off anything that gets in the way of his joy. 

So tonight, maybe because I'm awkward...or maybe because I'm childlike?...I'm praying that God grant me the heart of this little naked cowboy, that I would approach Him with raw authenticity, with playful affection, and naked honesty. 

Ride on Little J :)

Why I Love Benjamin Linus

Paging Dr. Linus...

I'm getting a little weary of defending my special interest in the - evil?/good?/evil?/good? - character of Dr. Benjamin Linus on Lost.  So, once and for all, let me explain my affection.

Beside the fact that the Emmy-Award winning Michael Emerson is brilliant beyond comparison in his portrayal of Linus, there are more personal reasons why I relate to this oxymoron of a character.  We never know what to do with Ben.  Is he evil?  Is he good?  We see continual glimpses of both. 

And I see continual glimpses of both in me.

Ben is a liar.  He is selfish.  He loves the island more than anything else; or maybe, the power of the island.  He longs for power, influence, and control.  When someone steps in to challenge his 'territory' he is riddled with defenses.  The idea of submitting his authority over to someone else is grueling.  Here is a man who watches his own daughter die, for whatever reason - selfishness, love of the island over her - or maybe, just a simple miscalculation of the coming events.  He is a murderer, deceiver, manipulator, and anyone who gets in the way of his ideas or plans is a potential casualty of war.

It makes sense to hate Benjamin Linus.

It also makes sense to hate the Apostle Paul (who murdered early Christians out of his love for the Law).  It makes sense to hate King David (who turned his attention elsewhere when he found out his own daughter had been raped).  It makes sense to hate me.  I'm drenched in the allure of evil - after all, "the human heart is wicked above all else.  Who can know it?" 

If we want to point fingers, really point fingers, it "makes sense" in many minds to hate God Himself.  What kind of God, what kind of loving Father would watch His own Son die for the love the world?  I think it is the kind of God that loves, unconditionally, even the least of these.  Even the Benjamin Linuses of the world...even the Tara Gentrys.  It is the kind of God who is "compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.  He will not always accuse, nor will He harbor His anger forever.  He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities..." (Psalm 103). 

I love Benjamin Linus, because week after week, we have to forgive him - again and again and again.  If he is to be redeemed; if there is to be more for Dr. Linus, then he must be given yet another second chance through forgiveness and grace.  I love Ben because, more often than not, I am Ben.  I'm riddled with inconsistencies, selfishness, falling short of the glory of God.  Yet despite my failures, God loves me and continues to believe, "right up to the last moment," the best in me. 

I have no idea where this show is going.  No clue what their intention is, but with all the questions and answers and more questions, I find myself enjoying that hour every week where God is speaking to me about humanity and brokenness, about redemption and restoration.  I'm sitting by a lighthouse with Jack, wounded and aching, as I stare at an ocean trying to understand the goodness of God in my broken life.  I'm standing in faith with Hurley, believing the Jacob that no one else can see.  I'm guilty with Ben, knowing I do not deserve to be forgiven, but finding in grace, I am redeemed. 

So there...  I love Ben.  Deal with it :)

Because He Loves...

John 11 tells the following story: "Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha.  This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.  So the sisters sent word to Jesus, "Lord, the one you love is sick."  When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it."  Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.  Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days."

Jesus loved them...so He didn't come to them.

OW...

Sometimes, because Jesus loves us, He doesn't come.  He holds back.  He waits, on purpose, knowing His waiting may mean a death. 

Sometimes death is good.  Sometimes death is needed, that there may be life...new life.  Greater life. 

So Jesus doesn't always come.  He allows for pain, even death, knowing that even this will not be the end for us.  There will be life after this, and His coming too soon will eliminate the opportunity to know Him more and become more like Him.

God, grace me with the courage to trust You, even in death; to trust You when You come running to my rescue...and when You don't.  Thank You for loving me enough to wait...

Here I Go, Apologizing Again

Found myself having to apologize on behalf of all Christians again today.  This seems to happen a lot at Teen Challenge.  I get a little tired of it, honestly - wishing Christians didn't say so many stupid things and treat people so unlike Christ.  Still, I'm humbled through self-inspection every time, knowing there are many ways in which I, too, contribute to the misrepresentation of Jesus in our world. 

There is one particular student right now that is especially challening me.  She is honest, authentic and raw - and I adore her for it.  She refuses to fake it.  She admits she does not believe in God - that sometimes she wants to, other times not, but that she is just too bitter and resentful to open up to even the idea of Him at this point in her life.  I wait for that wall to come tumbling down, yet every day, every week, we baby-step toward freedom, as I search for glimmers of hope that her heart may be opening to Jesus.

I asked her today to help me understand where this wall was coming from.  What was the source of this bitterness and resentment?  She gave many reasons that I personally could relate to all too well - loads of times the Church has disappointed her and common questions about hell, the goodness of God, etc.  But today I was punched in the heart by a teenager who wants nothing to do with God or Church or Christians for one main reason.  She put it this way:

"Well, they say that Christians are supposed to show you what God is like, and if Christians are what God is like, then I'm just not interested in that God.  And I know, Christians aren't "perfect," either, but...if Christians aren't like Jesus, then who will be?  Atheists?"

What more could I say?  I feel the same way.  I struggle with the exact same frustrations as a girl who wants nothing to do with God, the Church or Christians, because it's true... we are such a far cry from who Jesus really is.  I felt shamed into silence for a moment, because she was right.  I know she's right, and I ache because she's right.  I ache because I can't make other Christians get it right every time.  I ache because I can't make myself get it right every time.  And in moments like this, desperately hoping to bring light to her darkness, I realize God is still desperately hoping to bring light into mine.  To awaken me to the oxymorons of the Christian culture - the hypocrisies and parades that keep putting on the wrong show - our show, not His. 

I'm thankful for this student who challenges me to be more like Jesus.  Unknowingly, she awakens me more to Him each day, and I pray that slowly, through counseling sessions and conversations, through jokes and tears, through living it out one day at a time, she will let the walls crumble.  I'm privileged to walk this road with her, to ask these questions that we both share, to be equally challenged by one another as we walk into the Truth.

I saw something today.  An agreement, an understanding that we get each other.  That although she's not "there yet" in embracing Christ, she's willing to talk and to listen, and so am I.  We'll say it's ok that we don't have all the answers, that we're frustrated with the way things are and we long for more.  I'm finding that the honesty of an "I don't know" and a "Me too" go a long way.  Maybe people are not so hungry for our answers as they are hungry for our honesty.  During one of my many apologies on behalf of all Christianity today, I think a light turned on.  A dim light, perhaps, but a light nonetheless.  And, "though we see dimly, we will see Him face to face..." 

Bring her - bring me, Jesus - face to face with You. 

Help us to look away from all that will distract, to Jesus.

Make me more like You...