The True Self

The world sets in to making us what the world would like us to be, and because we have to survive after all, we try to make ourselves into something that we hope the world will like better than it apparently did the selves we originally were. That is the story of all our lives, needless to say, and in the process of living out that story, the original, shimmering self gets buried so deep that most of us hardly end up living out of it at all. Instead, we live out all the other selves which we are constantly putting on and taking off like coats and hats against the world's weather. (Telling Secrets) Frederick Buechner

 If you grew up in a fairly healthy home, you were celebrated as a child. You were loved on and made to feel that you were special, that you mattered. And you believed this, to some extent. Why wouldn't you? Parents are like gods to their children. They let us know what behavior gets applauded, what is disapproved of. They are smarter and stronger than we are. The parents seem invincible and all knowing. (at least until you hit 10-14)And then you go to school. Suddenly and rather shockingly, you become exposed to a whole new group of people. Up to this point, 95% of the people you interact with are determined largely by your parents. Now they can't shelter you. You come face to face with people who choose not to like you,...for almost no reason at all. The warm cocoon of home is slowly ripped away. The original self, which was so accepted at home, and loved- now isn't enough. This is where most of us learn to hide. We all need and must have some level of acceptance in order to survive. So we start to craft a persona that will be acceptable to those whom we admire and respect. We start hiding. And very often, the real you gets hidden away. Have you ever been cleaning your house, going through old stuff, and you find something you haven't seen in years? And you think to yourself- "I didn't even realize I still had this!" You know you should throw it away, but for some reason you just aren't able to? Or maybe you do throw it out, but for some reason you feel vaguely guilty? Our true selves can be like that. They can be so hidden, so pushed aside, so neglected that we lose touch with them. And then something happens- a family tragedy- a moving sermon or speech or even movie- a touching song- going to a funeral visitation- causes you to do some self-inventory. And going through the chaos that seems to make up most of our lives, we find hints, clues to our true self. Maybe we examine that for a second or two. Usually we stuff it back away, not knowing what to do with it. Unable to completely throw it away. But we have grown so comfortable with our created sense of self that we now believe that it truly is who we are. But we don't understand why we feel so hollow so much of the time. We wonder why we crave incessant entertainment and distraction. We hear people talking about dreams and desires and discover that truly- if we are being honest- we are just trying to survive. Trying to avoid having our hearts ripped out again. But if we could discover who we really are. If allowed ourselves to dream and desire again...

You have to be intentional to find the original self. It takes time. You have to be wiling to have conversations and think about it. You have to be willing to be vulnerable. And many people just aren't willing to go there. It is too painful. They would rather wrestle with the demons they know than confront what has become the unknown, but was once known very well. I think people are afraid that if they DID do some of this hard work, they would be disappointed with what they would find. But if they could connect with their true identity, their true essence, they would find out why they were supposed to exist in the first place. They would start to unravel their purpose. And when that happens, I believe you really start ot live. You become fully alive. And then you discover that during this process, God is supremely pleased with you.

Runners are Nuts

There is a malady afflicting millions of people across America. We don't talk about it much, but we should. These people I am talking about are very ill, and they don't even know it. Most people would agree that the decisions this group of people make are very questionable at best. This group would have you believe that what they are doing is good, even healthy, but as we delve deeper into this problem, I think we will find that they are erroneous and even need our help. 

I am talking, of course, about runners. 

I met one today. I asked her how her day was, and she said, as bold as you will- without a HINT or remorse or shame- "I just got done running."

I reacted with the same disgust and horror as many of you did just be reading this. And you didn't even have the freak of nature before you when felt that! Of course I hid my feelings of revulsion, as it is not polite to express your dismay when encountering someone struggling with an obvious ailment. 

Despite my shock at the severity of her illness, I was also intrigued. Perhaps there was a logical solution. I pressed on, bravely I might add, as it is never a good idea to bandy wits with the insane. 

"On purpose?" I inquired- skillfully concealing how appalled I was. Seriously, what if this was contagious???

"Why yes", she replied. She smiled as she said it- I think she I thought I was joking, or maybe her grasp on her sanity was as slippery as trying to hold a fish. 

Ah, I thought, perhaps there is still hope...

Was someone chasing you?

no

Maybe something was chasing you? A dog perhaps? Or a rabid puma? 

No

Had someone dropped a snickers bar perchance? 

Nope. 

I was running out of logical options. 

Did you lose a bet? 

Uh-uh. 

This is when I realized she had a problem. She was a...runner. I immediately felt very sorry for her. She soon left, presumable to torture herself in some other demented way. Perhaps she was going to drive bamboo shoots under her fingernails while listening to country music. Or she was going to binge watch "Charles in Charge". 

I am willing to bet that she has a perfectly good couch at home. What has it done? Why does she scorn it so? What has it done to deserve her rejection? Instead of running in the heat, she could have been comfortably sitting on her comfy couch, in the air conditioning, eating ice cream. Or a pop-tart maybe. 

Yes, some of you have been seduced by runners. They talk about being healthy and all that nonsense. First of all, have you not ever seen those stories of people dying while running a marathon? Or while working out? You've seen them, right? When was the last time you saw a story about someone who dies eating fried chicken on their couch while watching Seinfeld reruns? NEVER!

And why take the risk? Wouldn't you rather die happy? Comfortable? Being entertained?

One of the things runners like to say is "Our sport is the punishment for your sport".

Yeah, like that's something to be proud of.

That's kinda like wanting to have diarrhea because it is "speed digesting".

YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO LIKE IT.  

Liking something everyone else hates doesn't make you cool, it makes you weird and scary. 

Let's be honest. When was the last time you saw someone running on the side of the road who was smiling as they ran? Just wait, you are going to look the next time you see a runner. They won't be smiling.

But what if they were?

How creepy would that be??!

You would instinctively be waiting for the sirens to start wailing in the distance. Who smiles when they run? NO ONE. 

Because it isn't fun. 

And don't even get me started on the lunatics who run in the dead of winter. 

They are beyond our help. 

But for now, let's recognize the plight of those around us who haven fallen prey to this insidious calamity. They deserve our sympathy.

And a few ho ho's. 

The Good Sith Lord

(note- I read this story during a church service, complete with sound effects and power point)

The engines were fried. Despite all their best efforts, the blasted things just wouldn't start. They had tried every trick in the book. And they had written the book. Repairs, scraps, jerry rigging, these were the things they were best at. And despite all their best efforts, they were stranded, floating in space.

It was supposed to be a routine run. Twelve of them were to run a lot of questionably obtained scrap to their buyers on another planet. They knew the ship they had taken was not the most reliable cargo vessel, but it had always pulled through. And what Jawa couldn’t fix something by using scraps? It would be an affront to their species if they couldn’t! If you found something you couldn’t rig up to work, you might as well be dead.

And that would be put to the test before too long. Life support was running out. The difficult part of their situation was that they had chosen a path that was not well traveled, something they had to do based on their unpopular methods of acquiring their scrap.  They knew they had about 8 hours left. They had reluctantly sent out a distress signal. They knew that Jawas were not especially loved, merely tolerated by most races. But perhaps somebody would be feeling generous today. All that was left to do was……..wait.

“R2? What are we picking up?”

R2-D2 responds. (sound effects were used)

“Look, you know I can’t ever understand your beeps and whistles, I just pretend I do when I think other people might be around. I want them to think I am not just some joker, but am actually pretty smart.”

R2-D2 responds again.

“I may not be able to understand your sounds, but I know that was an insult. Just translate it for me!”

Luke Skywalker looked at the display screen in his X-Wing. R2 was feeding and translating the message Luke was receiving.

“R2, it seems to be some type of distress signal!!”

R2 responds

“I see, it is from a disabled Jawa cargo ship. I feel bad about this R2, but we just can’t spare the time. I would help them if I could, but we are on a very important mission for the Rebels. Every minute counts! Hopefully somebody else will come along.”

Luke powered up his X-Wing fighter and shot quickly away from the distress signal and the guilt that he had started to feel.

Hours passed. The Jawas were starting to get desperate. They thought they had picked up a small ship on their radar, but it disappeared quickly. Perhaps it had been nothing. Either way, it didn’t really matter. Whoever it was, if there was anyone, was not interested in helping a ship full of dirty little jawas.

“Chewie! Now what’s wrong? Is this stupid piece of junk shorting out again??”

Chewie roars (sound effects were used)

“What do you mean you pick up another ship? There can’t be anyone else out here you walking carpet!”

Chewie noise

“A Jawa ship? And they need our help? Ha! No chance I’m helping out those walking scabs. nothing but parasites if you ask me. The only good Jawa is a dead one!”

Chewie roars in approval.

“Besides, we have to catch up with Luke to stop him from making out with his sister!”

Chewie responds

“That’s not funny! Yeah, go on, laugh it up furball!!”

There were now only 2 hours left. There was no one to call for help. Even if they could get through to Tattoine, it would have taken too long for somebody to reach them. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and some of the more optimistic Jawas had tried one last time to repair the ship. It was useless. The damage was too great for even their most talented. Now they just settled down to die.

Suddenly their radio crackled to life!

They were getting a signal!

“Hmm. Listening is anyone?” ( I did my Yoda voice)

The Jawas looked at each other in confusion.

“Hearing me I know you can. Helping is wanted by ears listening, yes?”

The Jawas were thoroughly confused and didn’t know how to respond to this seeming gibberish.

“Dead perhaps they all are. Knowing I am not.”

The Jawas desperately tried to communicate to this strange being, begging for help.

“Hmm. Jawas are you. Yes. Yoda will advice give you to. Yoda help could, yes. But Jawas need to learn that helping is best discovered, inside of those in helping in need the most of is available. Thank me you will later.”

The Jawas hung their heads in despair, not fully understanding what was said, but catching enough of the message to know they were not going to be saved. They all finally accepted their fates and prepared to die. Their air was running out. There was no one left to save them. Every single one of them had blacked out except one. He looked sadly at his companions, his family, and laid down his head to die. He had just closed his eyes when he felt the ship begin to move. With the renewed strength of hope, he lifted his eyes. To his horror, he saw an Imperial Star Destroyer dwarfing his tiny ship. Somehow everything had gotten worse. Not only were they still going to die, they would most likely be tortured first.

The Jawa was barely conscious when the door of their vessel was opened. Even though he was nearly dead, the sound he heard chilled him to the bone. Everyone in the galaxy knew that distinctive breathing and the voice that followed.

“Tend… to their needs….”

The jawa was shocked to find that he was opening his eyes. Somehow he was alive!! He sat up, looking around, trying to figure out how this had happened. The rest of his companions were still unconscious. He unsteadily rose to his feet. He saw a light blinking on the console. A message was waiting for him. Slowly he made his way over to the command center of the ship and retrieved the message.
It was from Darth Vader.

“Dear little Jawas,

Please find your ship fully prepared and stocked for your long journey. I have personally seen that all of you have been fully healed as well. You owe me nothing. This one is on the empire.

Best wishes,

Your ol’ friend Darth”

Christian Zombies

A good sermon should not leave you the same as when you walked in the doors. It should rattle you a little bit, or inspire you, or encourage, teach you something new and hopefully challenge you. It should provoke some type of response. Hopefully there will be a slightly better version of you walking out the door. 

If you have attended church more than a few times, you know this can be a rare phenomena. 

Over the last few months we have been studying the Kingdom of God and what it asks and requires of us as believers.
This is dangerous stuff. This was a very controversial message when it was first delivered. It lead to the speaker's murder. And the murder of almost all of his followers. 

We have a little bit of a problem in our modern age. 

We can follow Christ and not have to give it or give up anything. 

We can walk out of church every week unchanged. Especially when 

we often gauge the sermon based on how entertained we were. 

The message of the Kingdom IS dangerous. It is culturally subversive. It does demand something of us. 

I have mentioned before how we often sing songs during worship we don't really mean at all. 

There was such a song this morning. 

"I want to sit at your feet

Drink from the cup in your hand

Lay back against you and breath

Feel your heart beat"

To be this close to the son of God... Again, the men who experienced this suffered violent, painful deaths. 

This message, this kingdom is...unsettling. 

It is 

DISRUPTIVE. 

This kingdom, this message, this God demands us to be who we really are. He can't connect, he won't connect with that which is false. He can't! To do so would be to endorse the false self you have built, it would encourage it's validity when it is destructive to you. He will accept you as you are but is always, always determined to help you become who you really are. 

The person HE created. 

You see, God created you. He thought of you. He decided you should exist. 

He will change you. He will strip down that which is false, loving you the entire time. 

He is a dangerous God to find. He will change you. Your way of living WILL be altered. It HAS to be. 

he wants to smash your spiritual malaise. Your tendency to keep going forward blindly, determined to live for the high moments, continually looking forward to the next bit of pleasure, time of relaxation or next success. 

Our culture loves the imagery of zombies. I think it's because we identify with them even as we are repulsed by them. We plod along, heedless of little else but fulfilling our desires. So intent on the next thing we have set our sights on we forget to enjoy or even notice the now.

Every once in awhile something rattles our cage, penetrates our spiritual stupor. A hunger is unearthed, awakened. It feels primal and dangerous. It feels like a destiny, a calling trying to make itself heard. A promise of that which is radical, the hint and promise of adventure. 

But most of us quickly tame it again, dismiss is, rationalize it and logic it away. 

While I was at the movies last night, watching "Saving Mr Banks" I had something similar happen to me. The movie was connecting to my brokenness in an unexpected way, tapping into it, threatening to unearth that which I have carefully buried and given a funeral. There is a nice structure housing my brokenness, honoring it even. But it is supposed to be past and dead. But this damn movie called to it. The brokenness wanted to resurrect, and I had to fight it to keep it in its tomb, lest my son and other movie goers see me crying at a Disney movie. We can't have that. 

The correlation is that God will not allow us to live as zombies. He requires us to be fully alive and to act and respond to life. 
We try to live as zombies to avoid our pain. Shuffling forward... step by step, often hating how we are living but not enough to change it. At the end of a year, reviewing it and realizing how little actually changed. years can turn into decades so quickly.
This isn't about regret and shame. 

It is about a call to change. And it has to start with you. And me. 

You CAN be the person who God wants you to be. 

Dangerous. A warrior. Impactful. 

Those deep longings of your heart that you have tied to your brokenness and therefore buried...

They were put there on purpose. I know it hurt when they weren't fulfilled. When they were called dreams and fairy tales. When you were shamed into taking them behind the shed and putting them down like Ol' Yeller. 

But the damn things won't die, will they? 

You have accepted a poor substitute and called it life. You have "made do". 

BUT IT ISN'T ENOUGH, IS IT????

Your heart demands more.

I get it. 

You are scared. 

Maybe skeptical. 

Yet you are still reading, aren't you???

You want it to be true...

What can you do??? 

Pray. Ask God to reveal your true self. Your original desires for life. 

Be ready. 

He just might answer. 

And when he does, (and it might take more than 5 minutes) write it down. Discuss it with a loved one. A trusted mentor. Take small steps of faith. Try something new. Yes, you will fail sometimes. 

But isn't it better than being a zombie? I could go on about how we try and make others into zombies, which is quite reminiscent of Jesus' talk with the Pharisees. (check out Matthew 23:15)

We have to stop being zombies. Living to avoid more pain. Living to maintain our "normal" and to keep the appearance of safety. 

The kingdom of God, our rabbi, our master requires it. 

It is a sad commentary on the state of the church when it requires a higher social cost to be a Star Trek fan than it does to be a Christian.