I was nominated for the Liebster Award by Melissa at Joy Faith & Dirt. And while I don’t really know entirely what that means, it seemed fun and interesting, so here we go…

Here are the rules!

1.  Post the award on your blog.

2.  Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their blog.

3. Write 11 random facts about yourself.

4.  Nominate 11 bloggers who you feel deserve this award and have less than 1,000 followers. 

5.  Answer 11 questions posted by your presenter and ask your nominees to answer 11 questions.

My 11 Random Facts:
1. My favorite animal is a red fox.

2. I have recently become a fan of anime.

3. I have written four poetry books.

4. I have four more in the works.

5. I really enjoy the post-apocalyptic and dystopian genres.

6. I’m a pyro.

7. I love camping, canoeing, and backpacking.

8. My favorite genres of music are soothing acoustic folk and melt-your-face-off hard rock.

9. Photography is one of my favorite hobbies.

10. I’m currently writing in my 24^th journal.

11. Tacos are awesome.

The 11 Questions Asked Me:

1. If you were stranded on an island, what one thing would you want to take with you (no people)? Assuming I can’t take something to get me off the island (like a boat or teleportation device), and that I’m actually stranded, I would take a hatchet.

2. What's your biggest accomplishment to date? Probably the process of writing Shadows & Scars

3. What place do you most want to visit? New Zealand or China

4. How do you find material for your blog? By reading my Bible, books, news stories, and various online sources

5. What made you want to start your blog? I like to write

6. Have you always been a writer? Pretty much since grade school.

7. What's your favorite outdoor activity? camping

8. If you could convince everyone of one particular thing, what would it be? To give me two cents (or at least their two cents worth)

9. What is your favorite time of day and why? Late at night, because it is calm and quiet

10. Are you a chocolate or vanilla type of person? Chocolate

11. If you had to become an animal, which one would you choose and why? Red fox, because they are awesome.

My 11 Questions For My Nominees:

1. Are tacos your favorite food? If not, why?

2. What does the fox say?

3. What is your favorite book that most people haven’t heard of?

4. What is the best website in existence?

5. Where’s Waldo?

6. If you could meet one person from the past, who would it be and what one question would you ask him/her?

7. What is the best writing advice you’ve received?

8. What do you do for fun?

9. Which Bible character frustrates you the most, and why?

10. If you were invited on a one-way colonization flight to Mars for you and your family, would you go? Explain.

11. What is the most interesting dream you’ve ever had?

My Nominees!!!

1. Joy Faith & Dirt

2. Et Cetra 

3. Snellections

4. New Beginnings

5. Vivere Vix Deus

6. Terrace Light

            I was supposed to nominate 11 blogs, but you guys are so awesome I only had to nominate half(ish) that number! Huzzah.

“Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but don’t notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself don’t see the log in your eye? Hypocrite! First take the log out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck in your brother’s eye.”

I used to think this passage was talking about two types of sins: bigger sins and smaller sins; and that if you had one of the bigger sins (a log), it was foolish of you to try to help remove a smaller sin (a speck) from someone else’s life. Which kinda made sense at the time, and of course made for some humorous imagery.

What I’ve come to realize, however, is that the context of this passage is what Jesus has just said a few verses earlier: “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven” (6:37). The log which prevents you from seeing clearly enough to help with someone else’s speck is not some random larger sin. The log in your eye is specifically the sin of judging. It is the spirit of judgment and condemnation.

Realizing this came as quite an ironic twist to me. It is often those who think they don’t have any sin (or at least not any big sins) in their life that are the most likely to be judgmental in dealing with another person’s sin. I know; I’ve been that person. On the other hand, those who see their own sin – and the mercy that covers them – are the ones who are able to see clearly enough to support another in their own struggle against sin.

I think the point is this: if you want to help someone else, you first have to remove your judgmental attitude towards them. You have to come to them in a spirit of love and forgiveness. Then, and only then, can you be an agent of God’s redemptive spirit in their life.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. If you do what is good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do what is good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.”

Love your enemies. It is a sobering passage, to say the least. If I’m honest, it does more than step on my toes a little – it calls me out, revealing that much of what I call “love” is nothing more than self-interest. But that’s a topic for another time. Right now, I want to jump down a few verses to what I believe is a key to understanding what is often missed about this passage – or, at least what I missed for a long time.

After summing up what it looks like to love your enemies, Jesus tells us what it would mean if we were to live out such love:

“Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High. For He is gracious to the ungrateful and evil. Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful.”

This may sound obvious, but Jesus is telling us that he wants us to love like this because this is exactly how God the Father loves. When we love like this we are living as God’s children because that is how he loves. Jesus came to show us what the Father is really like, to correct our misguided notions about him. I think this is one of those moments.

When I come to this passage, I usually read it, feel depressed about the lousy quality of my love, and determine to try harder. I focus exclusively on what it says about how I love or don’t love. What I rarely do is focus on what this says about how God loves. And I rarely think about whether or not I am interacting with God as he presents himself. Instead, I tend to treat God as if he plays by our rules.

How often do we live as if God is the embodiment of everything this passage says is not love?

• As if God only loves those who love him?
• As if God is only good to those who are good to him?
• As if God only gives to us when he expects us to do something for him in return?

Even sinners do this, and yet too often we treat God as if his love is no better. Listen to the subtle implications of conversations you hear around you (and inside your own mind) and tell me this isn’t true.

We tend to believe that if we do the things God likes, he will do nice things for us, but if we do the things God doesn’t like, then he will do bad things to us. I know it seems that way sometimes. That’s why we try to bargain with God. That’s why, too often, we try to impress God with our goodness. That’s why we hide from him when we’ve sinned.

Now don’t get me wrong – there are blessings for living in tune with God, and there are consequences for disconnecting ourselves from him, but the point is this: yes, God blesses the faithful, but, astonishingly, God also blesses the unfaithful!

In Matthew’s version of this passage, Jesus says that God causes the sun to shine and the rain to fall, not just to benefit the good, but the evil as well. It is as if God can’t contain himself! He is so full of love for us – all of us – that he just keeps pouring out good things all around us, knowing that most won’t even lift their heads to thank the source from which their blessings come. What a gift to God, then, to thank him for his gifts! But even if we don’t, that doesn’t change his love – it just keeps overflowing like the sun spilling over the horizon, like the rain bursting from the sky onto parched and thirsty ground.

He just gives, and gives, and gives…

And his giving only fills him with more to give!

What if I lived like that?

What if I lived as if God really loves me like that?

I wonder if all this trying to be better would be replaced with streams of living water flowing – overflowing – from within. I wonder if I would love because he first loved me.

Sometimes I find that I’ve become so familiar with the words of Jesus that I overlook just how turn-the-world-upside-down they are. Consider the earthshaking implications of just two of the famous Beatitudes:

“Blessed are you who are hungry now,

because you will be filled.

Blessed are you who weep now,

because you will laugh.”

The economy of the Kingdom of God is a strange one. You’re actually better off when you have less or when you have lost. You are better off because to be filled after being empty is better than always having been full.

I guess in a way this makes sense. Imagine sitting down at dinner to eat your favorite food (tacos, am I right?), but consider how different you’d feel if you hadn’t eaten since breakfast in contrast to if you’d be been snacking all day and didn’t have an appetite anymore. You actually enjoy eating more if you are hungry. Or think of how sweet a drink of water is when you are parched, or how immensely pleasurable it is to lie down and sleep after a hard day of work. Sometimes we actually enjoy things more when we’ve been lacking them. 

However, this mindset runs completely counter to the way we usually think in this world. Consider the latest ads you’ve seen on TV or billboards. How do the values they suggest compare to what Jesus talks about here?

Jesus says that those who are happy are those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and despised… yet we spend most of our effort seeking to be rich, well-fed, laughing, and admired. What is Jesus trying to say? I don’t think he is not saying “Don’t seek happiness” but rather, “Don’t seek happiness that will only last on this earth” and “Even if you are not ‘happy’ now, you can still be ‘happy’ because your emptiness will be filled, resulting in more happiness than if you had never experienced emptiness.”

This is mystery, to be sure. It is also a mystery why we rarely live in accordance with the truth that Jesus has given us. Think of a time recently when something you wished for didn’t happen and you were left with that hollow ache of disappointment. We tend to get stuck there and live as if that emptiness is the truth, when in reality it is only the prelude to God filling us with boundless joy.

I do not mean to diminish the suffering we encounter here on earth, but rather to point out that to the degree in which our suffering is great (and it is), the power of God to redeem our pain is even greater!

Which brings us to the greatest mystery in the economy of the Kingdom of God: our own redemption. I don’t know if any of us can fully wrap our mind around this, but join me in trying to let it sink in:

We are closer to God in our redeemed state than if we had never fallen.

Takes my breath away.

We think that the product of our sinful acts is only more corruption, and without Jesus this would be true, but through Him, the power of redemption is stronger, not just than sinfulness, but even than sinlessness!

If you doubt, turn your eyes to the Cross. Upon the canvas of our sinfulness is painted the most beautiful picture of love ever seen. But that sacrifice was not just a display, it is an invitation for you to accept Jesus. He loves you and He is the only one who can redeem all things – yes, even that.

“On a Sabbath, He passed through the grainfields. His disciples were picking heads of grain, rubbing them in their hands, and eating them. But some of the Pharisees said, ‘Why are you doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?’

Jesus answered them, ‘Haven’t you read what David and those who were with him did when he was hungry – how he entered the house of God, and took and ate the sacred bread, which is not lawful for any but the priests to eat? He even gave some to those who were with him.’ Then He told them, ‘The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.’”

Sometimes you think you know Jesus, and then he does or says something totally unexpected. For me, this passage was one of those moments.

Of course, I have no problem with what Jesus and his disciples were doing. I’m like, “Wow, way to overreact Pharisees. They’re just picking and eating grain.” But then comes Jesus’ response. I expect him to say something about how he and his disciples aren’t really breaking the Sabbath, and how it is instead the Pharisees’ own misguided understanding of the Sabbath that is the problem here. And that is kind of what he does, but the example he uses is unsettling.

He references the story from 1 Samuel 21, when David and his men are on the run from Saul. They’re hungry. Starving? Probably not. But when you’re on the run from the king of the land, food can be scarce. So David goes to the temple and asks the priest for some bread. The only bread available is the bread from the Table of Showbread, so the priest gives this to David. Sounds reasonable, right?

Except: it is unlawful for any but the priests to eat this bread! David and his men are breaking the law. The priest who gives the bread to them is breaking the law. When this story is told in the Old Testament, it is morally ambiguous at best. Yet here Jesus is using it to defend his disciples’ actions!

I realized that this unsettled me because I misunderstood the nature of the law and our relation to it. I thought the goal was to avoid breaking the law. But it’s not. The goal is to obey the law… and sometimes that means breaking it.

In Matthew’s version of this story, Jesus cites a second example in his disciples’ defense. He says, “Or haven’t you read in the Law that on Sabbath days the priests in the temple violate the Sabbath and are innocent?” (Matthew 12:5)

Again, this makes sense to me, but the way Jesus says it has the wheels in my head spinning. You can break the law and still be innocent? Jesus doesn’t say that the priests working on the Sabbath don’t break the Sabbath – but rather that they do and yet, somehow, are still obeying the law. This has profound implications. It means there are sometimes things in life more important than avoiding breaking the law. Like feeding hungry people. Like serving others in ministry. And that you may have to break the letter of the law in order to fulfill the spirit of the law.

Then it hits me: the point of the law is not the law; the point of the law is people. It is designed to show us how to love God and love one another. Our purpose is not to serve the law. The law exists to serve us – to guide us towards the true path of love and ultimately to Jesus himself.

In fact, that is what Jesus seems to be saying: “The Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath. Therefore the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27-28). The Sabbath, like the rest of the law, was given to us by God, not so we would serve it, but so it would serve us – preserving and enriching our life. The law lays the foundation of God’s character: love. If, in striving to keep the letter of the law, we act in an unloving way, we are no longer really keeping the law.

Think about it: you can technically be a member of those of “keep the commandments of God” and yet actually be living contrary to the law of God. While at the same time there could be those who, to human eyes, break a commandment and yet are actually living out the law of God. This was certainly the case between the Pharisees and Jesus.

Although I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now, I’m still not sure I’ve wrapped my mind around all the implications. I don’t have all the practical applications figured out. But I know this: it is not enough to simply go through the motions. I want to know Jesus, the Lawgiver, so that I can truly live in accordance with what he desires for me.

We have an unfortunate tendency to equate success with approval and validation from God. This is even (especially?) true when it comes to ministry. As if faithfulness to God can be quantified in numbers - churches with growing attendance, evangelistic series with more baptisms, colporteurs with a lot of book sales. Let’s be honest: we like immediate results.

I noticed something interesting regarding this in Acts 7. Stephen had just been accused of speaking against the sanctuary, the law, and Moses. In a rather brilliant speech, he turns the tables on the Sanhedrin and, using their own history, points out that they are actually the ones speaking against the sanctuary, the law, and Moses.

Nonetheless, things didn’t go so well for Stephen. The Jews were so enraged that they murdered him on the spot. Not only that, but Stephen’s speech prompts such bloodthirsty fury in the Jews that simply killing him isn’t enough – now they want to kill all the Christians! “On that day a severe persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem” (Acts 8:1). Now those are some immediate results, for sure, but not quite the kind I was talking about.

Let’s back up a few chapters. Acts 2 contains another famous speech in the early history of the church. This one, given by Peter, is not too dissimilar from the one Stephen gave, and yet it had drastically different results: over 3,000 people were baptized!

So Peter’s preaching results in thousands who are converted and baptized.

And Stephen’s preaching results in not only his death, but severe persecution for the entire church.

Huh.

Is anyone ready to suggest that Stephen was less faithful than Peter? That his lack of immediate numerical results is somehow a sign of failure on his part? I think not. Both were faithful. Both served God in the moment to which he had called them.

It would do us well to remember that God is more patient than we are. And that he has the big picture in mind, while we often only focus on what is right in front of our faces.

Let us also remember that faithfulness to God is not measured in numbers. God has called us each to different places, different roles, different purposes. Set your heart to the task God has set before you, and leave the results in his hands.

It is one of the defining moments in the ministry of Jesus. For the first time, he stands up in his church, in his hometown, and proclaims the purpose for his life. Amidst friends and family, neighbors who’ve known him since he was toddling around chasing the chickens and goats, who’ve seen him sweating over the construction of their tables and chairs, in front of these people who know him better than anyone else on earth, he stands up and reads:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,

because He has anointed Me to preach good news to the poor.

He has sent Me to proclaim freedom to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to set free the oppressed,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Let that sink in. Wow. Breathtakingly beautiful. That is what Jesus is about. That is why he came to earth. From his own lips, “Today as you listen, this Scripture has been fulfilled.” I love that this is Jesus’ mission statement! His church must’ve been excited, too, right? Yeah, sort of.

“They were all speaking well of Him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from His mouth, yet they said, ‘Isn’t this Joseph’s son?’”

They couldn’t deny the power of his words. They were captivated, to be sure. But something wasn’t quite right. They knew this man. They knew who he was, had him figured out, knew what to expect… and this, this was not matching up with their expectations.

Jesus knows exactly what is going through their minds. “No doubt you will quote this proverb to Me: ‘Doctor, heal yourself.’ ‘All we’ve heard that took place in Capernaum, do here in Your hometown also.’”

In other words, unless they saw direct evidence to establish proof of what he claimed, they weren’t going to believe. Why should they, after all? They knew who Jesus was.

Sometimes familiarity is a dangerous advantage.

As we will continue to see throughout Jesus’ life, sometimes those closest to the religion of God are the furthest from the person of God. As a Christian, as someone who grew up in the church, as someone who has spent a great deal of time in church culture, this is a sobering thought.

After all, I know Jesus. I know who he is and what he is all about… right? I’ve got him figured out. I know what to expect. I am his next door neighbor. I sit next to him in church every week. But what happens when he stands up in my life, and says something that doesn’t match my expectations?

This happens more often than I’d like to admit. I come across some passage from Scripture, some words right from the lips of Jesus, and I want to skip over them, leave them behind, because they just don’t fit who I know Jesus to be.

Mercy.

Jesus concludes with two poignant examples illustrating the danger of familiarity that leads to closed eyes, and the blessedness of opening our eyes to who God really is. He says that there were many widows in Israel during the great famine, but that Elijah was instead sent to a Gentile widow. And again, during Elisha’s time, there were many in Israel with leprosy, but the only one healed was a pagan who sought out God.

Jesus’ point is clear: God is not confined to work only for those who “know” him. In fact, sometimes it is those who know the least about him who are most open to who God really is. God reveals himself to those who are open to let him be himself. Even if they are “outside” the church.

Regardless of who you are, what your background or experience has been, the point is this: let Jesus be himself with you. And be open to the possibility that sometimes this means letting go of long-cherished ideas about him, and inviting in the beautiful, challenging, surprising, exhilarating mystery of Jesus himself.