Matthew and Luke both record Jesus’s parable of the Heavenly Banquet. Jesus tells the story of a man who prepared a great feast. When the guests ignore or refuse the invitation, the host tells his servants to go out into the streets and ask the poor, maimed, blind, and lame. I ask myself, “Where am I in this story? Who would I sit beside?”
I see the young man walking down the highway almost a mile before I pass him. I watch him walk with his head down and hunched shoulders as though he expects to arrive without assistance wherever the road takes him. I wonder who he is, where he has been, and if someone somewhere is missing him. My heart aches for him, for those who love him, and for myself and the son who is never far from my thoughts, so as I pass, I pray.
How do you tell someone that the journey may be far different than they expect and that it might be a long, lonely, journey through deep valleys of letting go? How do you offer hope when your own journey doesn’t appear to have a happily-ever-after ending? This journey to find space for grace was a journey that lasted years and cannot be easily summarized in one post. Initially, I didn’t even know what needed to change in my heart and my words and actions, but I found hope for hard journeys.
Not long ago I received a link to a video which featured young people whose lives had been changed by prayer and community, but rather than receiving encouragement, I was deeply hurt, and discouraged. As I sat in silence in the dark of the morning, and wrestled with my feelings, I asked, “Lord, why am I so hurt by a message that was intended to bring hope?”
None of us loves perfectly, but I long to love better, and often it is my hurt that moves me to a deeper understanding and compassion.
This was one of my first experiences in which I found my brokenness and God’s generous grace colliding. It was both a loving embrace and a gentle rebuke. My love for God grew out of the overflow of His love for me. This is how Jesus draws us closer to Him and exhorts us to a live a life of holiness – He loves us. One beautiful example of this compelling love that brings peace to the broken is the story of Mary and Simon recorded in Luke 7: 36-50.
Suicide. It is a topic not often talked discussed, and not a topic that I have talked about much despite its impact on my life and the lives of my children. This is the first time I have ever written about it. But suicide marks both the living and the dead. So, as I write about my experience, I am posting it in this Space for Grace as a reminder to myself and others that we cannot know what ‘secrets’ have shaped the lives of those around us.
I think most of us like the places, people, and things that are familiar and comfortable. And most of us struggle – at least to some degree- to love and accept those ideas, things, and people who are different.
As I have been making my way slowly through the New Testament this year, I have recently started reading through the gospel of Luke. Of all the gospels, Luke is perhaps my favorite. As Luke records the teachings of Jesus, he seems to move from one parable to another, which makes me wonder if he too could ‘see’ the gospel in the parables of Jesus.
I don’t often watch movies on the big screen, but not long ago I watched Jesus Revolution at the Cinemax. It made me wonder how a ‘Jesus Revolution’ might be received today. It is easy while we are sitting in a movie theater to cheer for the underdog and to think we would respond just like Pastor Chuck Smith and welcome and support the hippie-street-preacher. But the movement and the people might look a little different in our current culture than it did in the 60’s and 70’s.
In recent months, I have read and listened to several discussions and sermons regarding our identity in Christ. As a reminder of who we are in Christ, many of them have cited Galatians 3:27-28. Since I also used this scripture reference in a blog post on whether Christians should call themselves gay, these messages have prompted me to go back and take a deeper look at this scripture and Paul’s message.
Should our identity as a believer in the gospel of Christ be always and only Christian? We often identify as either a man or woman, or according to our ethnicity, occupation, or experience. And although a new creation in Christ, we all still experience both the neutral and sinful aspects of our humanity. So, are there times when it is appropriate for Christians to identity with our humanity as well as our Christianity? And if this is true, is it appropriate for a Christian to identify as gay or same sex attracted or any other identity?