God & Ralph, The Pizza

This is not heartbroken; this is heart revealed.  This is not empty; this is full.

Sitting in the Helena, Montana, Regional Airport, I have just wrapped up my second “Goodbye Event” of the summer, and I am tired.  I am a jumbled mess.  I am full of love and full of sorrow, and the two combined have rendered me as a sort of emotional pizza, with everything on it—even anchovies.  Nobody likes anchovies.

I delayed saying “Goodbye” to my youngest daughter, Emma, for as long as I could.  I even threatened to not conclude her wedding at the end of the ceremony that I officiated.  “I don’t want to say ‘Amen’”, I said to Emma and Ben, standing regally in front of me and the audience—not because I had any reservations, but because I knew it was a huge part of the Goodbye Event.  I felt like if I did, I would be the guy christening a fancy new ocean liner with a bottle of champagne—“Enjoy your maiden voyage, but I’m not going with you anywhere anymore.”

Full of love and full of sorrow, I somehow said it.  And she was gone.

And now it’s Ellen.  In the same 24 hours that Emma left me, my wife, Sarah and I learned that Ellen would also be moving.  Not to New Zealand, but to Montana which, if it can’t be in her bedroom in my house, is just about as far away.  Together, we’ve crammed in movies, peach hunting, carp bombing, car repairs, road trips, fly fishing, grizzly bear avoidance singing, and home furniture shopping.  Frankly, if she had asked me to shop with her for some fresh, heather scented wall spackle, I wouldn’t have missed it. 

But this morning, I hugged her 817 times and sobbed all over her.  She did too, so that seemed about right.  And then we said it:  “I love you.  See you on FaceTime.” 

Since then, eight people related to the airport have asked, “How’re you doing?” as a way of greeting.  I blubbered my response to the first two:  “I’ve just moved my daughter here, and I’m going home without her.”  I didn’t even finish what I really wanted to say because I couldn’t.  Now I have modified my response to grunts and nods in the attempt to indicate, “I’m fine.  Don’t ask anything more.  You have been warned.”

Maybe by now you’re thinking, “Geez-Louise, Ralph!  Get over it!  Buck up, man, and be thankful you’ve had your daughters around for as long as you have.  You’ve given them roots, now give them wings!”  I don’t blame you, if you are.  But one of the greatest treasures I have ever found is how God is with me when I’m a mess—an extra large, everything-that-shouldn’t-be-mixed-up-on-a-pizza, mess.  “Nobody’s gonna want to deal with that!  Change your mind!  Get a new attitude!  Re-order your life, Ralph!”

But while there’s certainly a time and a place for that kind of thing, I’m “dealing with this” not by changing my mind, but by directing my messy thoughts and feelings to the Holy Spirit.  In my mind, I’ve yelled, “Come on!  I hate this!  If I have to give them wings, is it wrong if I clip them short—you know, like parakeets?  Then they can only fly around my house, but not to freaking New Zealand or stupid Montana!” and “Jesus, I didn’t have kids for this!  What were you thinking, hooking me up with that woman, Sarah, who wanted them in the first place?!” and “Bleeeeeeeep!  I hate this!  What are you going to make out of this, anyway?  I don’t care about nice places to visit, I want them near, where YOU put them in the first place, where they’re supposed to be!” 

And in the combination of love and sorrow expressed to Him, emotions and thoughts all jumbled up and ugly, the Spirit appears in the mess, and comforts and loves me.  He knows that I’m not heartbroken, but that my heart is revealed.  He loves that!  He knows I’m full, and He’s all about love and sorrow and repairing people leaving each other—for good and for bad reasons, leaving jumbled, emotional pizzas behind. 

And—shocker—when I don’t tidy myself up and pull it together, bad stuff doesn’t happen!  My mind says it will be bad, but the Spirit is attracted to such neediness.  He’s better than anyone or anything in it.  And because He has shown Himself to be so good with Ralph, the pizza, I’m going to tell you what I’ve found when your mess emerges from behind the curtains of your attitude.  Or bursting out, as it is with me. 

He’s not telling me to tidy up—He’s telling me that He is with me.  Right here, inside—for the long haul.  For what’s to come.  For the dad I will be now.  Dad at a distance.  DAAD.

I’ve got that to look forward to, and He will be with me in all of it, mess and all.  I’m on my way home, now.  It’ll just be Sarah and me, but I know—I KNOW—we’ll be good because He is with us.

P.S. I made a little slideshow of events beginning in early summer. It's set to a song written for one woman, but frankly, my dreams came true in three.

It Just Seems True

When using certain terms that “just seem true,” think of them in relation to the cross and resurrection before using them.  Those two events changed just about everything, and led to God’s new creation sons and daughters.  There hadn’t been any of those before then. 

For example, to say, “God takes all of His children through the Refiner’s Fire,” might imply that God wants to cook off what bothers Him about you.  ONLY THEN, having burned off your many impurities, can He FINALLY make you something He likes.  But nowhere in the New Covenant do we read that God refines US.  Instead, we read that He has ALREADY refined us, and He is now working to refine our BELIEFS—from lies to truth.  (See Romans 12:2.)  That’s important.

In the New Covenant, heat and our performance in it has nothing to do with changing who we are; faith in Jesus Christ has everything to do with who we are.  God is not heating you up and scraping off your impurities SO THAT He can eventually see His reflection in a finally nice human mirror—He already lives in you!  You’re His perfect house.  He already got rid of anything offensive or impure through including you in the cross and resurrection of Christ.  He thinks that actually worked!  What do you think?  (See Romans 6:1-11.) 

In those times when hardship and difficulty press down upon you, God is not refining you—He knows exactly who you are as His new creation—He is assisting you to know what He knows.  And that takes some refining.

Catch The Pattern

--> In John 10:10, Jesus says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

One comes to take and to damage thereby; that’s the pattern. The other comes to give and repair; that’s Jesus’ pattern.

I want to remind you today simply that Jesus is not asking you to give Him your heart – He has given you His. Jesus is not asking you to give Him your life – He has given you His. That’s the pattern.

The rest of your days will be about exploring how good He is for you so He can do and give and repair more and more for you. That’s life by Jesus. You like life that comes from Him, right? And He likes giving and repairing. That’s what He’s like. That’s the pattern, and you’re set up for that.

If you’ve been hearing or giving yourself to a contrary pattern, no matter where it comes from, no matter how you hear it, there will be no life in it, and there will, consequently, be no repair. It’s not for you. It’s not from Jesus. One pattern is from this world—take and damage. The other is from Jesus—give and repair. That’s Him.

Catch the pattern. It will help you.

Lost in Lust

What’s the problem with lust?  Why is it such a big deal?  Evidently, it’s really bad to us since we are so strongly warned about it in Galatians 5:16-17, as well as in 1 John 2: 

15 Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. 17 The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever.

I think that the lust we are warned about is the drive to find our identity—who we actually are—completed by a person, a position, or a possession because we don’t know or have forgotten our identity given to us by God.  We are the miracle-born sons of God.  Perfect.  Made by Him.  And the love of God reminds us of that all the time so, convinced about it, we live as He intended—by faith in Jesus.

If any other identity (husband, wife, businessman, ministry leader, etc.) becomes primary, then we are in trouble because we will stop being our true selves in the attempt to become something else, something that seems to work and get us what we want.

What cripples us is that we work to get our identity, that which says we are complete and right, another way than what God has revealed, and it’s the way of the lie:  “You are not complete, you are not good unless you can get him, get her, get that job, buy that car.”  Played out, lust says that you’ll be complete if you can keep getting what identifies you well, so become whatever is required to win your identity.  That is from the world around you—it’s not from the Father, and it’s not from the Spirit who lives in you.  The ones following after lust will be daily traumatized by wondering if they’re doing everything right.  In the inner trauma, love from the Father will be strangled, and they will act like it.

And the bigger problem?  They’re no longer themselves.  In their effort to complete their identity, they’ve become a slave to the lie that they don’t already have one.  They’re lost—not to God, but to themselves.  The wonder of the new creation escapes them, even while they are part of it.  What they are attempting to get is “passing away” each day, and must be recaptured and lost, recaptured and lost, again and again. 

That’s the ugliness of lust. 

However, those of us who believe that God has given us an identity worth cherishing, an identity that means He has made us exactly as He wants us, an identity in which are all the blessings of Christ, that belief is the will of God.  And that means eternal life—God’s life given to you and me. 

Stay there.  Keep getting that identity from God, and you won’t get lost in lust.

Life & Death

Your Place In God's Parade

I have important news for you:  you are not indebted to God.  You owe Him nothing.  He likes it that way, and works to keep you convinced of it. 

The attempt to “pay Him back” for all that He has done for you is an unintended rejection of His intention with you:  to prove how perfect He is toward everyone by His undeserved and lavish generosity with you. Parading you is how He gets credit.

So when people introduce obligation between you and God—“After all God has done for you, how can you not give your all for Him?”—not only are we robbed of the fullness and joy of God’s grace, but so is He.

The apostle Paul wrote that God “canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; He has taken it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross” (Colossians 2:14-15).

God went public!  How cool is it when we do too?  In other words, He has taken away everything against you, and He wants everyone to know all about it—heavenly rulers and authorities, as well.  Jesus took away not only your debt, but also the laws you broke which would have proved it.  There is no evidence of you ever being a law-breaker, of you ever being in trouble with Him, or of you ever owing God anything.  He did that at the cross!

God’s grace never creates debt; God’s grace always pays debt.  Knowing that is the perfect motivator for you, His new creation.  Maybe you’re feeling joy and freedom right now because I’m reminding you about how awesome He is toward you.  That’s how He sort of “comes alive” in you and to you—and to others.  So let’s not introduce anything that diminishes God’s triumphant grace parade.  You’re front and center, and He’s got you parading in front of an important audience.

(This is a transcript of yesterday’s video, “Your Place In God’s Parade”, and is for those who might rather read than watch.  To see the video, click https://youtu.be/xghbA7u56cw.)

Your Place In God's Parade

You are not indebted to God.  Why not, and why is that important?  Spend 3 minutes with me to find out what fun God is having with you.  You’ll be glad you did.

We're Under Grace

I don’t know what you’re doing with your life as it involves others, but for the rest of my days I promise to keep everyone accountable to the grace of God.  Grace is for life—the length of it and the enjoyment of it.  Romans 6:14 reads, “For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace.”

I know that the word “accountable” might be an odd word to put together with “grace,” but it comes as something of a response to the legalistic “accountability police”, who seem always to be prosecuting even Christians with the word.  “You’ll be held accountable for that,” they might say.  That always makes me shudder . . . and maybe want to vomit . . . on them.  Is that wrong? 

“Grace” doesn’t mean that nothing matters; grace means that Jesus matters.  He’s got us, and He’s given us all of His righteousness and holiness.  I’m going to hold you to that, because believing it, over and over again, is how you live by grace.  Jesus was successful for you two thousand years ago, and He is successful for you and with you today.  Believing that will have an effect because grace always works.  You’ll like it, and Christ in you will be in evidence.  Others will like that, too.

But keeping yourself in the crosshairs of your own gun—“I’ll be held accountable”—or turning it upon others—“You’ll be held accountable”—is not Christian living.  It may seem to help people by temporarily altering their behavior, but it actually hurts them by pushing them toward fleshly living.  Choosing your own behavioral righteousness over the gift of His will immerse you into foreign territory, where you will be unrecognizable to yourself.  In other words, you won’t work right.  And I don’t like that at all.  That’s why I don’t like the accountability police.
   
However, if grace is grace, then it’s for them, too.  So I’m going to hold them accountable to God’s grace. 

Where Is The Power of God?

It is far better to tell Christians that they have been changed than it is to tell them to change.  Only then can they live by faith in what Jesus did, rather than by faith in what they must do.  That distinction is crucial!  Marveling at the change that took place for them and to them is the only way of hope for the uncertainty of their days in this world. 

Get that order out of order (which we all-too-often have), and life by works is the unavoidable result.  That won’t work.  Not for anybody.  It’s not supposed to.  Life is by faith that Jesus was successful for you and with you—that’s the gospel.  It’s fantastic news!  And that’s where the power of God is.

Stay there, and works will follow.

(This is a transcript of yesterday’s video, “Where Is The Power of God?” and is for those who might rather read than watch.  To see the video, click https://youtu.be/w-AJGGrkU-U, or simply scroll down this blog page.)

Where Is The Power of God?

Got 1.5 minutes?  A lot of us are worn out and wondering what we’ve done wrong to become so, . . . blah.  We’ve got a power-outage.  The solution is better than you think. 

More & Less

If we are going to live by the Holy Spirit (and, it seems to me, that is the way for a new creation), then we’ll need to think of love more as a person—Jesus—and less as a behavior. Otherwise, love easily becomes a burdensome imitation, a copycat, rather than the genuine article—the real deal—alive in us.

Life Around Home

Remember:  you are God’s temple, His sacred home.  You are not empty, you are not trashy, you are not messed up, you are not hopeless—you are where God lives.  Thinking about how He made that happen will re-attract you to Him, and He will make sure you know what life is like around home.

Stop Right There

In the darkness of the middle of the night, I was wielding a baseball bat and chasing burglars through unlit hallways and across a rooftop.  It was 1986, and another pastor and I lived in a church that had been burglarized earlier in the day.  Separated from my fellow pastor, I pursued several fleeing figures that I could barely see, hoping to get close enough to . . . I don’t know what.  Turning a faintly lit corner, I came face to face with a police officer, his gun drawn and pointing at my chest.  “Stop right there!” he commanded.  I did.  “Who are you?” he demanded.  Raising my hands and baseball bat above my head, I stammered, “I’m a pastor—Ralph Harris—and I live here.  My roommate must have called you.”

I have never forgotten the feeling of grave danger and of being out of control.  My life was on the line, unless and until I answered that question adequately and the truth made the difference.  It did.

I want you to stop, at least for a moment, and answer the question, “Who are you?”  However you answer that question will reveal what you think will save you because your life is on the line.

There is an awful lot that suggests an “awful you” or a “lesser you,” one that bears little resemblance to who you are because of how you’ve been made—or re-made by God.  And if you’re reading this, chances are good that you know what I’m talking about:  the new creation you.  I’m not talking about the businessman or businesswoman you, I’m not talking about the student you, the employee you, or the father, mother, son or daughter you.  Those are all tributary identities to the primary identity—to the source identity—to the “you” you truly are.  I’m talking about the you that is clean and holy and perfect, the Spirit-born you, an actual son of God, a light in this world, in whom the Kingdom of God dwells, God having seen to it, God having seen to you, through the new birth in Christ. 

I’m talking about that you.  And I simply want to remind you today that sometimes you’ve got to stop or be stopped (as it was with me) in order to think again about who you are because it can seemingly get lost in the things we do.  And if we have been made to live by faith in Christ (that He was who He said He was and who He says He is, perfect God toward man) and that you and I are who He says we are (perfect sons and daughters), then we’re going to have to answer that question, “Who are you?”  We’ll even have to ask it of ourselves so we can proceed in our days and live from the answer.  Only then can our tributary identities receive and be influenced from the source.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to ask that sort of question of myself all the time.  As perfectly united with God as I am, having Him now inside of me, when I wake in the morning sometimes it seems as though God and I did nothing together at all yesterday, or that He doesn’t even exist, which puts me in serious trouble.   I’ve lost my identity and am subject to the lesser ones of this world.  There’s a lot of grief and twistedness there.  But He does exist, and I am well with Him; it’s just that my thinking needs a repentance—a “WAKE UP!” call.

And then I am revived.  The Holy Spirit in me sees to me, takes care of me, and together we can do all things.  So can you when you’ve had your wake up call.  Maybe this, “Stop right there!” will serve that purpose.

But just in case:  “Who are you?”
 

A Happy Audience

Sometimes it occurs to me that I’ve got a bigger audience than I think. 

Whatever is tempting me, whether fear, lust, covetousness, envy, pride—whatever—how excellent it is to offer myself to God, now inside of me.  You’ve got to know that the angels rejoice whenever they see me doing that, not only because they know that recovery is beginning and that I believe that Christ is inside of me (I’m living by faith), but they also know that my friendship with God is proving to be as good as they know it is.  I think they love that.

The God Who Doesn't Pay Attention

I have a question for you today:  Do you know “The God Who Doesn’t Pay Attention”?  Do you know that God? 

Your relationship with this god goes something like this:  you make a deal with him, you put together some kind of covenant, with really good stuff in it, like reading the bible all the way through in a year, supporting a missionary or a child in India, talking to people about Jesus and sharing your faith, giving up alcohol or chocolate for a year, etc., so that god will give you something better that you don’t have now.  You know—like a better job, a better car, a better home, a better spouse(!), or a better something.  And you follow through but God doesn’t.  You keep your end of the deal (you actually start supporting a missionary), but God doesn’t come through with his.  That’s “The God Who Doesn’t Pay Attention,” and that’s what I’m talking about.  Naturally, you struggle with this god, trying to figure out what kind of agreement or what kind of covenant you can make with him that he’ll honor and actually complete.

After all, you’re trying to work with him.

And somewhere in the course of your struggle with “The God Who Doesn’t Pay Attention,” it occurs to you that maybe God isn’t bargaining with you, that maybe he’s not playing the covenant game with you at all.  Keep that thought.

In fact, God is not making covenants with people at all.  He’s not doing it.  The truth is that God is paying attention to only one covenant now, and He made it with Jesus only—you simply get all of the benefits and blessings of their covenant.  God kept you out of the covenant equation and the pressure to keep it so He can give you everything as a gift forever.  Eternally.  For free.

Hebrews 9:15 says that, “. . . Christ is the mediator of a new covenant (He’s the one who brings us together with God and keeps us together, no matter what), that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance.”  (Parenthesis mine.)  It’s all a gift.  Forever.

2 Corinthians 1:20 For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God.

Amen? 

So the next time you think that God isn’t paying attention to your attempts at bargaining for yourself, of making an agreement for yourself, remember this:  You’re right.  He isn’t.  He’s paying attention to Jesus, and you’re far better off because of it.