Finding the Savior

The heavens are telling the glory of God;

and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours forth speech,

and night to night declares knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words;

their voice is not heard;

yet their voice goes out through all the earth,

and their words to the end of the world.

Psalm 19:1-4

When you look at art, you will see something of the artist.

Every painter, every potter, every sculptor, every musician, every poet will pour themselves into what they are creating. Often you will know the mood of the artist when you see or hear their work: maybe it was created during their “blue” period; or maybe it was something they made when they had just fallen in love; or maybe it reflects their hope.

It has been said that after Vincent van Gogh rediscovered the hope of the Gospel, his paintings started to reflect that hope; namely, his use of the color yellow was indicative of his hope. One can see a gradual increase in his use of yellow in his paintings as he grew older, capturing his sense of the warmth of the truth of God's love (from Scot McKnight, The Jesus Creed). The art gives us a sense of the artist.

When you look at the creation, you will see something of the Creator.

Throughout Scripture, we are told that creation—the handiwork of the Creator—declares the glory of God. Words are not necessary, for the majesty and creative beauty of the Divine Artist are evident in every detail. It is what we call natural revelation.

Natural revelation points us to the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. The canvas of the world gives us a glimpse into God's glory and majesty.

But natural revelation does not tell the whole story. While the creation points us to God, that alone is not enough to provide us with what we need to know in order to be reconciled to God in a relationship of peace and love. Creation gives us enough evidence of a grand and glorious God; and creation even humbles us and forces us to recognize that there are limits to what we can do, and that we are not super or divine or even holy in our own right; creation even makes us face our brokenness and our weakness (which, in turn, proclaims the truth that we are sinners).

Natural revelation is not enough. That's why God has revealed himself to us through his Word, the Bible. But even words were not enough, until God became incarnate in the form of his Son, Jesus Christ.

I am forever grateful for the beauty of the earth, and the majesty of the skies. Much of my photography is borne of my inspiration to capture something of God's glory. But as grateful as I am to behold God's glory in heaven and earth, I am even more eternally grateful to know God and his love through his Word, demonstrated perfectly for us once and for all in Jesus Christ.

Consider the world in all its beauty. Without saying a thing, the voice of creation goes out through all the earth. Listen to it, and heed the invitation: “You think this world is beautiful?” it says, “You should see my Creator. Indeed, you should see his Son, and then you will really know him.”

Now, That's Far!

“As high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is God's love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

Psalm 103:11-12

I'm slightly claustrophobic. I don't like to feel closed into small spaces. I prefer wide open spaces where I can see forever.

It was a bit of adjustment when we first moved from West Texas to South Carolina. In West Texas there is nothing to obstruct your view in any direction; it's about as flat as flat can be. But in South Carolina they have something called trees. Pine trees and oak trees. Tall ones. Don't get me wrong—the trees are beautiful. But sometimes as I'm driving along a road lined with pine forests on either side, I wish for a more wide-open view.

Maybe that's one reason I love it when our family travels to Colorado for vacation. When you get to the top of a mountain, you can look around and see forever in all directions, or so it seems.

We love to drive on Trail Ridge Road near Estes Park. Trail Ridge Road is a 48-mile section of US Hwy 34 in Rocky Mountain National Park. With more than eight miles of the road above 11,000 feet, and its maximum elevation at 12,183 feet above sea level, it is the highest continuously paved motorway in the United States. When you reach the visitor center at the top of the road, you can park your car and climb about 200 more feet, and you will get this view:

Pretty impressive, right? Off to the far right is Wyoming, I'm pretty sure. Way off in the distance.

When I am up on top of a mountain and can look all around me and see nothing but blue sky and the things below, it leaves me breathless. Maybe it's because of the lack of oxygen at that altitude.

Or maybe because it's an awesome sight.

Anyway, it also reminds me of two things: I can look way way way way way high into the sky, and even as far as I can see, God's love for me is even greater than that. And as far as I can look either to my left or my right (or in front of me or behind me, for that matter) – God takes my sin even farther away than that.

Now, I know some of you reading this don't have easy access to the mountains. So, if you live near where I live in South Carolina, here's what you can do. On a sunny day, go to the beach. Look up into the sky (but don't look at the sun—that will blind you); way past all that blue sky, that's how much God loves you. Now, look out at the ocean. Since you're in South Carolina, you are looking east. See that spot where the ocean meets the sky? Not even close to how far God has removed your sin from you.

I'm so glad that our God loves us so much, that God does for us what we cannot do on our own—God takes away our sin. Really, really, really takes away our sin.

We should do something to show our gratitude. Maybe we should take our lead from God, and just as God forgives us, so should we strive to forgive others.

Pay it forward, kind of.

I know, forgiving others can be hard. But at least try it, won't you?

God Bless the Sewer Trucks

"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it."

1 Corinthians 12:27

I live in a small town, so holiday parades are a big deal. If there's a holiday, we'll have a parade. 

The Christmas parade has become a HUGE event for Georgetown (at least by our small-town standards). The whole community participates. We don't have floats, though; we have entries. Cars and trucks decorated for the season. Being a waterfront community, we have our share of boats being towed down the main street. School groups, clubs, fraternal orders of so-and-so will be seen walking the parade route. Fire trucks, ambulances, and law enforcement vehicles also participate in the procession.

People used to throw candy from the vehicles, but now someone has to walk alongside the vehicle and hand out the candy; they were afraid that little children were going to get run over, or something like that.

It's a festive atmosphere, to say the least. Over the years the parade has grown significantly, both in terms of attendance and the number of entries. It's a great way for our community to celebrate the season, and to show pride in Georgetown.

This past year, though, one of the entries took me by surprise. Coming down the road along with all the other entries was the City of Georgetown sewer and drainage cleaning truck. No bows or ribbons, just a big ol' truck moseying down the road. I remember thinking to myself, “Only in a small town will you have a sewer truck in a Christmas parade.” I chuckled a bit to myself at the sight.

Later on, though, I had a thought: Why not a sewer truck? The sewer cleaners are every bit as much a part of our community as the firefighters and police officers. Where would our city be if we didn't have the fine folks of the public works department laboring hard on our behalf every day? Hooray for the sewer truck, after all!!!

It made me think of what the apostle Paul teaches about the church. The church, he says, is like a body. Just like the human body has many parts, so does the church have many parts. And just as every part of the human body is important to the overall function of the body, so is everybody in the church important to the work that Christ gives to the church.

Everybody matters.

Everybody.

It takes all kinds to make up the church, the Body of Christ. Each person has God-given gifts that God intends for us to put to use in the ministry of the church. When one of us is missing or is unable to do what God has equipped us to do, then the body suffers. We all need each other—that's the way that God has made the church.

I'm really glad the city sewer truck was in the Christmas parade. They are very important to the community.

I'm really glad that God has put you in the church (even if you may be in a congregation other than mine); you are very important to the Body of Christ.

“Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.”

Each. One. Of. You.

Wonderfully Made!

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made...”

Psalm 139:14

The other day as I was walking into the entrance to the church office, one of our members was walking out the same door. He pointed to the light fixture above and said, “Did you see the Luna Moth? It was here yesterday, and it's still here today.”

I looked up and, sure enough, there was a beautiful lime-green moth with a wingspan of about four inches, perched motionless on the lamp. I did what any hip 21^st century citizen of planet earth does in this situation: I whipped out my phone and took a picture.

Life lesson: Always have your phone charged and ready. You never know when you might get an awesome picture of a cool moth. Like this one, a Vine Sphinx Moth that I saw when I was walking home for lunch one day.

Or like this one, which I saw on the front door trim of my house one morning. Pretty cool camouflaging, right?

But, as usual, I digress.

Moths are fascinating. I am captivated by their symmetry, and their intricate designs that are meant either to hide the moths from predators, or to confuse and intimidate the predators. Interesting fact: Most moths will live only for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. The Luna Moth doesn't even have a mouth, so it doesn't eat anything; I suppose it lays eggs, and then will die (but I really don't know that for sure. I'm just guessing. An educated guess, though – I am a doctor, you know).

When I look at the moth, I am in total and complete awe at their Designer, God. I think to myself, “Isn't it amazing that God would go to such great lengths to give such intricate design to the more than 11,000 kinds of moths in the world, and they live only for a few days?”

Then I think to myself again: “If God gives that kind of attention to the moth, what does that say about how much attention God has given to our design?” And I recall the words of the 139^th Psalm:

“For you created my inmost being;

       you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

       your works are wonderful,

       I know that full well.”

       (Psalm 139:13-14)

Did you ever stop to consider just how much detail God has put into God's design for you? It is amazing, that down to the most infinitesimal detail, God has crafted you into a beautiful and wonderful human being! You are precious to God!

And you are unique. There's no cookie-cutter blueprint in God's human-making plan. Each person—you and me, and everyone else—is uniquely designed with eternal love.

Our awesome and amazing God made you, according to his perfect wisdom and glorious creativity.

That makes you pretty special.

If You're Treated Like a Statue

"If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other also." 

Matthew 5:39

There may be a bit of irreverence today. But there is a point. 

Trust me.

When we were in London and Scotland, two things quickly became evident to me. First, there is a wonderful and abundant heritage of honoring major historical figures by erecting statues by which to remember them. Scholars, war heroes, queens and kings, religious figures. Statues abound in Britain. The other thing that quickly became evident to me was that the statues were remarkably adept at collecting, well, bird poop.

On. Their. Heads.

The little boy in me was fascinated by the poopie heads. So much so, that I even created a specific photo album on my Facebook page, “The Hard Life of British Statues”. Go ahead, take a look at it (I know you want to!). When you finish, come back to this page...

...Now that you're back, I actually have a point to make.

Recently one of my sermons dealt with the infamous “turn the other cheek” passage from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). You know the passage, the one where Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said, 'eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I say to you, do not resist an evil person. If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” (Matthew 5:38-39) As Jesus goes on, he teaches that when people insult you or defame you, do not retaliate in like manner. Instead, shower them with love: turn the other cheek, give them the shirt off your back, go the extra mile, pray for them.

Tough teaching, I know. But Jesus meant it. And he lived it himself. Read the story of the crucifixion, and you will see how perfectly he fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth...” (Isaiah 53:7a)

I say this because there are times when we feel like people are treating us like British statues (and I'm not talking about the honorable intent of the statues!). It takes all we can muster not to strike back, not to meet insult with insult. Really, it takes all we can muster, and then some—it takes the Spirit of Christ at work within us, not only to resist the urge to retaliate, but even more to respond with love.

I know, life is tough. And challenging. People can be downright mean.

But being a follower (and a representative) of Jesus Christ demands that we meet the challenge. I hope you will draw on the grace and love that God has shown to you in Christ, and seek the higher road.

When life treats you like a statue, respond with grace.

Then pray for rain...

Sunday Prayer

Sunday Prayer

So, I was reading this book the other day, and I saw where some guy named Paul had written a letter to a church in a place called Ephesus. It was about 2,000 years ago (maybe a little more). Anyway, I thought this would work well for my Sunday prayer for you and for all people everywhere.

 I pray that out of the Father's glorious riches

God may strengthen you with power

through his Spirit in your inner being,

so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.

And I pray that you,

being rooted and established in love,

may have power,

together with all the Lord’s holy people,

to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,

and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—

that you may be filled to the measure

of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more

than all we ask or imagine,

according to his power that is at work within us,

to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus

throughout all generations,

for ever and ever!

Amen.

(Ephesians 3:16-21)

Rainbow Hope

“I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind.”

Genesis 9:13-15

After a late-afternoon shower in Scotland, as the sky began to clear Carol and I looked up and saw this rainbow. I thought to myself, “Who needs a pot of gold, when you can have Edinburgh at the end of the rainbow?”

I love rainbows. Admit it, you probably do, too. Parents excitedly point them out to their children, and vice-versa. People will pull over to the side of the highway, just to stop and look at the rainbow in the distance. I think it is part of human nature, when we see a rainbow, to point at it and exclaim, “Look, a rainbow!” Or if you're by yourself, at least you think, “Hey, look at that rainbow!”

People love rainbows. But I don't know anybody who is more enthralled by rainbows than the man in this video (Click here towatch).

Rainbows give me hope. They are a sign of a promise from God.

In the book of Genesis in the Bible, after the earth was destroyed by the flood God determined never to destroy the earth by flood again. The sign of that promise is the rainbow. Admittedly, it sounds less than hopeful that the rainbow is simply God's promise never to destroy the earth again by flood. But the way I look at it, this world means too much to God.

With all the faults of the human race (and they are too many to count), it would be easier for God to wipe the slate clean and start over again. But that's not what God chooses to do. God's love for you and me, and for everything on this planet we inhabit, is so wide and long and high and deep that he remains eternally committed to this project he started.

There is nothing that can ever separate us from God's love in Christ Jesus our Lord (Paul's words, not mine. But I wholeheartedly agree with them).

That's what the rainbow means to me. No matter how deep a hole we have dug for ourselves, God's love is deeper. No matter how far away we have run from God, God's love is wide enough to encompass us still.

I look at the rainbow, and I'm filled with awe and wonder. First, because rainbows are beautiful, and such beauty demands our awe. But also because the rainbow is God's way of reminding me of his infinite steadfast love, and his determination never to let go of us.

From time to time the thought has come to me, that across our globe there are always rainbows. Rain is falling somewhere all the time, and in some of those places the sun is shining through the rain to make the rainbow. I cannot imagine that there has been even one moment since the first rainbow when there hasn't been at least one rainbow on the horizon.

God's promise will never disappear, even as there will never be a moment on this earth when there isn't at least one rainbow somewhere.

The Irish say that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. They can have the gold. With every rainbow, we have new assurance of God's love. That's enough for me.

Strength in Numbers

“Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up the other...”

(Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)

My wife and I live in an area surrounded by water. The Atlantic Ocean is just fifteen minutes away by car. Our town of Georgetown is situated on Winyah Bay. Coming into the bay from either end of Georgetown are four rivers – the Waccamaw (which is also the Intracoastal Waterway), the Great Pee Dee, the Black and the Sampit Rivers. Further south is the Santee River. Our house is only half a block away from the marsh that buffers us from the Black and Pee Dee Rivers.

With all this water around us, there is an abundance of waterfowl, some native, some migratory. Commonplace birds in our area include egrets, herons, cormorants, pelicans, ibis, geese, ducks of many variety, seagulls (of course!). We also get birds of prey like red-tail hawks, owls, osprey, falcons, bald eagles... I'm just scratching the surface.

I love to watch birds fly in formation or gather in groups along the water. Sometimes we'll be walking along the beach and I will look out at the ocean, and just above the waves will be a group of pelicans flying in formation. For a big, awkward and gangly-looking bird, they really look graceful and elegant in flight.

While it is not unusual to see a lone pelican, they do have a communal nature about them. They fly in formation, instinctively taking advantage of their God-given aerodynamics. They hunt cooperatively. The nest in colonies. I know this because it's on Wikipedia, so it must be true.

In groups, birds are better able to shield themselves from the elements. They are better able to watch for predators. They have advantages in hunting for food. When they fly in formation, they are known to encourage one another, and they expend less energy than when they fly alone.

I think we need to take a cue from the communal birds. The Christian faith is not something that we are supposed to live alone. Two are better than one. When we come together, we can pool our gifts to do more than any of us can do on our own. God has designed us for fellowship; God's first reaction after God created the man was, “It is not good for the man to be alone...”

We need each other. We need each other for encouragement, for mutual support, for spiritual nurture. The Christian life is meant to be lived in community. That's why God has given us the church.

Some will say, "I can just as easily worship God on my boat; I don't need the church." But that's not really what faith is all about. Faith is about being in fellowship with the people of God, and discovering in community the richness of God's steadfast love and mercy. Faith is about working together to serve God and to meet the needs of the world in which we live. Faith is about companionship on this journey of life.

Go it alone, if you wish. But we'll miss you. Two is better than one. We're better together, because that's the way God made us.

"Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another..." (Hebrews 10:24-25)

Telling the Story

“Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.”

• Mark 16:15

Thanks to over-the-counter antihistamines, I can enjoy springtime. I don't have to look at the thin coat of yellow pollen that covers my car in the morning and wonder, “What is that stuff doing to my eyes, nose, and lungs?” Thanks to antihistamines, I can enjoy the beauty and color of spring. 

Flowers everywhere. Trees sporting their fresh, new-growth green. I especially love the dogwood trees in bloom.

Of all the spring flowers, the dogwood is my favorite. As far as trees go, the dogwood is on the scrawny side—its main trunk twists and leans to one side. Its branches are thin and scraggly. But when the trees are in bloom, they become an elegant sea of off-white and green, with just enough space between the branches to get glimpses of the sky. 

Technically what I have traditionally assumed to be petals are actually called “bracts”, and the real flowers are what the bracts surround, those bumpy looking thingies in the middle. 

But I digress. 

There is a legend concerning the dogwood. The legend claims that at the time of Jesus the dogwood tree was the largest and strongest of trees, and its wood was used to make the cross on which Jesus hung. The dogwood was distressed that it was used for such a cruel purpose, so it determined never again to grow straight enough or large enough to be made into a cross; henceforth it would be twisted and bent.

Its petals would form the shape of a cross, and the end of each petal would have a notch in it that would resemble the mark of the nail. The center of the flower, rough and stained with blood, would serve to recall the crown of thorns.

It's just a story, I know. But it got me to thinking about other instances in nature that remind me of the cross. 

I have noticed pine trees in early springtime that sprout a yellow shoot as new growth. Then – often close to Easter – the yellow shoot will branch off and form the shape of a cross. 

And donkeys. Did you know that donkeys have a cross-shaped mark on their back and shoulders? It's true.

It turns out that nature is remarkably good at pointing to the cross.

All this makes me wonder, how well do you and I tell the story of Christ's suffering love? The story is proclaimed remarkably well by inanimate trees; can the same be said about you and me? 

I'm not really talking about the written or spoken word (though what we say is important); I am mainly thinking about how we live our lives. St. Francis of Assisi once said, "Preach often. If necessary, use words." Our lives tell a story. What story do they tell? Do our lives declare that God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son? Like the dogwood, and the pine tree, and the donkey, is there anything in our lives that naturally points others to the suffering love of Jesus Christ?

Just something to think about. Our lives should always point to the One who died on the cross for our sin. Jesus commands us, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.”

If the dogwood can do it, don't you think we can, too?

Thirsting for God

As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.  (Psalm 42:1)

For years my family has had a cabin in Colorado. We love the mountains, and we try to get out there at least once a year. When we get to the cabin, the first thing we do—even before we unpack our bags—is drive into Rocky Mountain National Park to view wildlife, especially elk and deer. We don't actually have to look out for the elk, because when we see a bunch of cars pulled off to the side of the road, we know there is an animal sighting; they call it the elk jam.

Even if we don't see them along the road, we can pretty well count on deer and elk grazing along the Fall River or the Big Thompson River.

When we do spot them by the water, immediately my mind goes to the psalm: “As the deer thirsts for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God.”

I can relate. Not just on the aesthetic appreciation of the image of the dear grazing along the stream. No, even more, I relate to the image of thirsting for God. One of the things I have come to realize is that there is within all of us an innate spiritual thirst; and I am convinced that nothing will quench that thirst apart from communion with God.

We were created for communion with God. But our sin has broken fellowship with God, and so there is a longing for what we are missing.

We thirst.

And unless we direct our hearts toward God, then our thirst will never be satisfied. Another person will not satisfy our thirst. A job will not satisfy our thirst. No accumulation of wealth will satisfy our thirst.

St. Augustine famously said, “My heart was restless until it found its rest in thee, O God.” My soul thirsts for God. Your soul thirsts for God. And apart from God, our thirst will not be quenched.

There's good news, though: Jesus offers us precisely what we need. He restores our communion with God. He offers us living water, to quench our thirst.

Jesus says to you and me, “Whoever drinks the water I give will never thirst. The water that I give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” (John 4:14)

You're thirsty. So am I. I know where we can drink, and be satisfied. Will you drink with me?

On Moonlight and Sonshine

“Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine!” 

Matthew 5:14-16a, The Message

I want to return to my obsession with the moon for a moment. I love taking pictures of the moon in its various phases, especially with my camera that has a 60x zoom (I don't know what that means, except that it REALLY zooms). Certainly, the full moon is beautiful and awesome. But so is the crescent moon, the half-moon, and all the other phases. The new moon, while not very photogenic (maybe because you can't see it), still allows the stars to take center stage. The other day I came out of church after the early service, and I was greeted by a crystal-clear blue sky... and an amazingly prominent half moon.

The moon is pretty cool. You should definitely spend more time looking at it.

Of course, the light that the moon shines isn't its own light. It is simply reflecting the light of the sun. That becomes a metaphor for you and me: When Jesus says that we are the light of the world, and that we are to let our light shine, he's really telling us that we are to reflect HIS light in the world around us. The light we shine is the light of the gospel, pointing others to the amazing grace of God.

Something else about the moon: the reason we don't always see the moon at its fullest is because the earth gets in the way. The earth gets between the moon and the sun, and casts a shadow across parts of the moon.

So, back to the metaphor: What is it that prevents us from shining the light of Christ at its fullest? What gets between us and Jesus, that casts a shadow on the light we shine?

Sometimes we let the worries of the world cast a shadow on the light we shine. Sometimes the way we treat others casts a shadow on the light we shine. Sometimes the words we say casts a shadow on the light we shine. I'm sure you can think of other ways that we cast a shadow on the light we shine.

Look, I know that metaphor begins to fall apart if we take it too far. After all, the reason the moon goes through its phases has to do with the God-ordained orbit of the moon and the revolution of the earth.

But you and I are ordained by God to let our light shine. All of it.

I still love the moon in all its phases. So here's what I encourage you to do when you see a less-than-full moon: Praise God for its beauty. Then ask yourself, “Am I shining all the light I can shine? Or is something casting a shadow on the light of Christ in me?”

As Jesus said, “Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – Shine!”