Baby Shoe Reminders

February 1st, 2006
Matthew 19: 16-22
Another day, a man stopped Jesus and asked, "Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?"

Jesus said, "Why do you question me about what’s good? God is the One who is good. If you want to enter the life of God, just do what he tells you."

The man asked, "What in particular?"

Jesus said, "Don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t lie, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as you do yourself."

The young man said, "I’ve done all that. What’s left?"

"If you want to give it all you’ve got," Jesus replied, "go sell your possessions; give everything to the poor. All your wealth will then be in heaven. Then come follow me." That was the last thing the young man expected to hear. And so, crestfallen, he walked away. He was holding on tight to a lot of things, and he couldn’t bear to let go.

When's the last time you've seen your baby shoes? If you have them, dig 'em out. Put them up against your feet and see how tiny you really were! What were your thoughts at that point in your existence? What was important to you? What was most valuable to you?

My baby shoes are among the things I consider to be my most valuable possessions. I remember so many of my most valuable possessions: my stuffed Tony the Tiger and Dapper Dan, my Hong Kong Phooey lunch box, my orange banana-seat "Clean Machine" bike, a Boy Scout survival knife, two banners from different bands I was in, my stamp collection, my songs that I've written, my drawings, cartoons, and paintings, and my leather-bound, collector's copies of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. Some of these are still my most prized possessions. I've added a few: my miniature version of the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo, a spork (long story...ask me sometime in person), and my baby shoes which my mom just gave back to me a few years ago.

My Hong Kong Phooey lunch box eventually became worn with use and we threw it away. I outgrew my Clean Machine. Tony the Tiger went the way of the trash after many years of sitting in a closet. And Dapper Dan was left behind at the doctor's office when I was about 4 years old. We went back for it, alas and forsooth, it was nowhere to be found. I still have my Boy Scout Knife, the band banners, my stamps, my songs and artwork, the Tolkien books, my Mystery Machine, Spork, and my baby shoes.

In all honesty, I'd rather not get rid of any of these possessions. In so many ways, they define me. They define who I am, who I was, and from where I've come. They tell stories. They are part of my story. And yet, even if, like Dapper Dan and Tony the Tiger, these things are left behind, my story still continues. I am still me. I am no less me without these things. But I still like holding on to them as reminders. Especially these cute little baby shoes. I can't believe my feet used to be this size. And yet, here they are, physical proof of this part of my life. These now jaded feet, used to kick and wiggle about in these little shoes. Imagine. These shoes are a reminder of the steps I took so long ago down the path that is my life. And all of these other things: stamps, books, songs, toys—continue to tell the story detailing other steps I've taken along my way.

There are other things I have, not possessions, but they're a part of me in so many ways: my wife, my children, my friends, and my church. And I'd rather not give up any of these things either. They're important to me. Again, they are a part of the story that is me. Talk to my wife, and you learn pieces of my story. Watch my children at play, and see the echoes of my own childhood.

In the passage of Scripture from the story of Jesus' life as told by Matthew the Tax Collector, we see an extraordinarily wealthy young man, coming to find out how to obtain the precious commodity of eternal life. I imagine this man, like everything else in his life, figured eternal life was something to be acquired as he was so used to doing. He sees Jesus talking to a crowd. He's heard the rumors: "He offers eternal life." And so our rich young man figures that Jesus is the broker with whom he needs to deal to work out the acquisition. In words which sound an awful lot like "How much is it for eternal life?" the rich young man asks what it will cost him. He's thinking in monetary terms. He's thinking that a certain dollar amount can be reached and he will simply have to produce the funds, and the deal will be done. However, he's not prepared for the price Jesus quotes him.

"Hey fella, you want eternal life? Okay, I believe I can acquire some for you. But it's going to cost you!" says Jesus.

"Okay, how much?" asks the rich young man.

"Every last penny in your possession." says Jesus.

Imagine the reaction. Imagine how you'd feel. Because I know the things which are most precious to me. And I know the heartache I would feel to have to give them all up. Because isn't that what Jesus is really asking him? "What's most precious to you?"

The young man replies that his wealth is most precious to him.

So Jesus says, "Give it all away. Every bit of it."

The man thinks Jesus is crazy. He stands there with his mouth hanging open, saying "Jesus, you're nuts!" But he's blinded by his own insecurity. He finds security and control in his wealth. And he has no clue that security and control found in anything other than Jesus is but an illusion. So our young wealthy man, trudges off to muddle with his own thoughts. I like to think that he wrestled with this long and hard. I like to that at some point, he realized the wisdom of what Jesus was saying and came back to follow Him. But you know, Jesus didn't think he would. He said it'd be easier for someone to ride a camel through the eye of a needle than for our young wealthy man to come by eternal life. Ouch!

As a child, it was so much easier to let go of things precious to me. When I was about five or six years old, I looked at the things I held to be most dear to me and decided that I would give my most valuable item to Jesus for a birthday present. It was my Tonka toy car. I put it in the mail box with a little Happy Birthday note. It was simpler then. Life seemed a lot more clear to me. Less variables. Less information. Less complication. If Jesus told me as a child, that I'd get to hang out with Him forever if only I'd give up my Dapper Dan or my Tonka car then heck, I would have given 'em up in heartbeat.

But now, it's not so easy. Now, I weigh my choices. I do cost/benefit analyses on such decisions. I think about things and discuss them. I weigh in all of the variables. I obtain more information. I do a careful web-search and look at the latest issue of Consumer Reports to find out more so I can make an informed decision. And in the end, I'm still left with the same insecurities and control issues our hero, the rich young man was left to wrestle with.

Just before our story of the rich young man, we see Jesus talking with some kids who busted through His armed guard to talk with their Friend. Jesus tells everyone there that they must become like these very children to enter Heaven. And so I sit here, looking at my baby-shoe-reminders of yesteryear and a light shines forth from the darkness and I nod my head knowingly. Children tend to see things a lot more clearly, I think. To them, the choice of giving up your money to be with Jesus is a huge "Duh!" They know the fun they're going to have with Him. And they know His games are far better than the ones their money will buy.

It says in Matthew 5:3 "You're blessed when you've lost what's most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you."

Jesus knew, that for the wealthy young man to follow Him, he'd need to give up that which was most dear to him. For most of us, we'll never have to face the actual act of doing so. But our willingness to give up that which is most precious to us is a good barometer of our "follower-ship" of Jesus. For, as long as we clutch tightly those things we hold precious, we can never open ourselves to the passionate embrace of our Savior.

What do you hold most dear? And are you willing to lose it for the embrace of your Savior?

It's easy to relate to the man who is asked to sacrifice everything. It's easy to sympathize with him. But if you were called to do the same, to radically commit your life to following Jesus, would you react any differently? I'd like to think I would. I'd like to think I could just say, "Here Jesus. Take it all." Some days, I think I'd be okay with that. Others, I think I'd have a hard time lettin' go.

Jesus calls for radical commitment, because the gift of salvation that He offers is radical. He gave His very life so that gift could be given to us. He's only asking that we give up some of our measly possessions. {sigh} "Oh, all right Jesus. Here ya go. But what do you really want with my Mystery Machine, stamp collection, and spork anyway?"

"Duh!" says Jesus. "I'm so sure! Scooby Doo rocks, man! And your stamps are kinda cool and I've been looking to trade some with Moses, and I know the Spork story and I've been lookin' for one to use as a prop when I tell it!"

"Okay, Jesus. Fine. Take it all." I say in return with a little huff in my voice.

Jesus responds with a smile and twinkle in His eye and says, "Thanks, my friend. But why don't you keep your baby shoes. You'll need them as a reminder of how I'd like you to be when you show up asking to enter into My Kingdom." And then Jesus laughs. Not a mocking laugh--but a laugh of pure child-like Joy.

And I can't help but to laugh as well. He's gotten me. My Savior-friend has called forth the child within me and reminded me of the simple Joy that I once knew. And as I realize that Joy, I again see the twinkle in Jesus' eyes and I become aware of the Source of that Joy.

Baby steps, friends? Ah heck, why not take a leap of faith?!

Be WILD For Christ!

We Need A Daddy Really Bad

James 5: 19-20
"My dear friends, if you know people who have wandered off from God’s truth, don’t write them off. Go after them. Get them back and you will have rescued precious lives from destruction and prevented an epidemic of wandering away from God."

No metaphors today...just some thoughts about people who are hurting. People just like you and me. People whom we often give the short end of the stick.

A couple of years ago, Marilyn Manson performed on the American Music Awards. For those of you who are unaware of who he is, I'll tell you just a little bit about him. He's the lead singer of his self-titled band. They are a very dark band with a message which is very overtly against most of what Jesus is about. In fact, the name of one of their albums is "Anti-Christ Superstar." Marilyn Manson dresses up mockingly in priest's garb, wearing dark eye make-up, demonic contact lenses, getting his fans to jeer at Christianity. I am repulsed by what he stands for. I am repulsed by his looks, his presence, and the lyrics to his music.

And yet...

In the movie "Hook," the daughter of Peter who is being held hostage by Captain Hook, at one point looks at Captain Hook and says, "You need a mommy really bad."

That's what I think about Marilyn Manson. I think he needs a mommy...a daddy...a loving parent really bad.

Jesus talks about this kind of thing quite a bit. He says in His story as told by Matthew: "Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, ‘Let me wash your face for you,’ when your own face is distorted by contempt? It’s this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor." (Matthew 7:1-5)

We point at the dark make-up and demonic looks of Marilyn Manson, while at that very moment, a sneer of contempt for him is on our own faces! We judge him for his sneer, while at that very moment, we have one of our own. Excuse me Mr. Pot, who are we to call Mr. Kettle black? We're not all that clean ourselves.

It seems to me that Jesus also met up with a woman one time who was very obviously caught in some sin. She was a woman who was caught in adultery...sleeping with someone to whom she was not married. The people had gathered around her, judging her guilty, and were bending down to pick up stones to throw at her pitiful existence. Arms were poised and ready to begin the rocky onslaught. And Jesus looked at the woman. He saw the loneliness, the need, the hurt. Yeah, He knew she'd screwed up. But then again, haven't we all? And so Jesus turned to the mob which was preparing to stone this woman to death (imagine the pain of this...imagine having even one rock being thrown at you, let alone a whole crowd of angry people throwing them). Jesus turned to them and said: "The sinless one among you, go first: Throw the stone." (John 8:7)

And you can just hear Homer Simpson's "Doh!" echo in the silence of that moment when the shame of their own sins were realized in that moment. You can imagine that some of them even saw that woman differently. With pity instead of judgment. With mercy instead of condemnation.

A few years ago, we all were standing around in a circle with stones in our hands, poised and ready to throw at a certain President for his affair. Remember?

And so, I see this man who calls himself Marilyn Manson (first name is that of a beautiful woman, last name of a serial killer), and I see a man who is challenging me to see him through eyes of love and mercy. For if we give in and judge this man, then we become the very hypocrites he proclaims Christianity to be all about.

And truly, how much better are we? I may not proclaim Satan in the lyrics of my music, by each time I turn my back on Jesus and engage in any sin, Satan's name is proclaimed just as loudly as if I said it in words.

Marilyn Manson is somebody's little boy. A little boy, who has grown up and is very hurt, very lonely, and very angry. If we judge him...if we condemn him, how are we helping? Whereas, if we love him, if we pray for him, those like him, and those who follow him, then we are living out the antithesis of his message. We live out boldly a message which will eventually reach his heart. He'll see that Christianity is about love and mercy...not judgment and condemnation. He'll understand that Christians...each one of us...screw up. And how we choose to deal with our own screw-ups and those of others is what tells the truth about who Jesus is. If we face up to our mistakes, admitting them and we offer mercy and forgiveness to each other, then we rise above the dark message proclaimed by Marilyn Manson.

Jesus once told a story of a young man who lived a sinful life like most of us can only imagine from things we've seen in movies. At one point, this guy realizes his mistakes and goes home, expecting to receive judgment from his father. Instead, he receives his father's love and mercy. He is welcomed home into the loving arms of his father who is just glad to have him back.

I want Marilyn Manson back. I want to love this guy so much, that he can't help but to realize that he's wandered off from God's truth. I want to go after people like Marilyn Manson. Because in truth, my dear friends, we've all been him. We've all sinned. We've all wandered off from God's truth. And someone has gone after us and rescued us from destruction.

Are we any better than Marilyn Manson? I don't think so. I'm certainly not willing to throw any stones today. And truth be told, my face is just as messed up as his. Who am I to point out the smudges on his face, while I have a sneer on my own?

You remember that young man who took off to live that sinful life, only to be welcomed home into the loving arms of his daddy? Imagine what would have happened had his daddy rejected him, reacting with judgment and condemnation instead of love and mercy. He probably would have ended up even worse off than he already was. He needed a daddy really bad.

You and me, we need a Daddy really bad. One Who welcomes us home with loving arms of mercy and forgiveness. We need a Daddy, just like the one Jesus talks about over and over. His own Daddy in Heaven.

And Marilyn Manson, he needs a Daddy really bad. Let's go after people who've wandered away. Let's go after them with love and mercy. Let's love 'em so much that they'll want to return to God's truth. Let's ambush them with our love. Because they're not going to expect it. In fact, they might even reject it at first, disbelieving that we're "real" in our love.

But I know it's possible. I know...because I've sneered at Christianity myself. And someone loved me enough to not return my sneer. They loved me enough to go after me. Somebody proved me wrong.

Now let's prove the same to Marilyn and those like him. Let's stop this epidemic of people wandering away from God.

Cream-style Couch Support

Psalm 65:2-3
"We all arrive at your doorstep sooner or later, loaded with guilt, our sins too much for us—but you get rid of them once and for all."

To say that my mom's family was poor, would be like stating that there is air. You don't really need to think about it much. You just know. And to say that my grandfather was a mentally stable individual would be like ordering a cheeseburger—hold the cheese. My mom's household was a bit on the chaotic side. I'm thinking this qualifies as an understatement. However, even in the midst of the madness, there was love and even some modicum of responsibility.

Living from hand to mouth, their family often had to live with life "as is." They accepted each other "as is." They accepted their house "as is." They never questioned where the food came from, nor what it really was. They accepted it "as is." No questions asked. And when something broke, they either ignored it, tossed it, or fixed it with whatever was on hand.

As most families did, they owned a couch. Of course, the couch came to them "as is." And at some point in the tattered sofa's existence, some of its legs were broken. Now, you can't really ignore broken legs on a couch, otherwise your view of the television will be a little askew. And they couldn't really afford to buy a new couch, so tossing the old one was out of the question. So, my grandfather fixed the couch with whatever was on hand. Apparently, books wouldn't do the trick. I don't know, maybe they didn't have many, and the ones they had, were often in use. Nor could my grandfather find something from the garage to use to replace the missing legs. After searching through the garage and the house, my grandfather at some point made it to the kitchen. And opening up one of the cupboards, an angel's light shone down upon them: some cans of cream-style corn. Mmmm...you can't help but conjure forth an image of chunky yellow corn gunk. The 40 watt light bulb over my grandfather's head flickered on for a brief moment. An idea had come to him: why not use cans of cream-style corn to replace the broken legs of the couch? They're just slightly larger than the original legs, plus, they're cylindrical, just like the legs were.

Scarily enough, it almost seems logical. Almost.

My mom's family had six children. And if you know anything about children and couches, you know that couches are meant to be jumped, dove, and trampled upon. An interesting thing happens when you combine the forces of speed, mass, and gravity. What weighs fifty or sixty pounds at a stand still can turn into two, three, or more times that amount of weight. A little kid, to an unsuspecting couch, can suddenly weigh in at two or three hundred pounds.

Solid, wooden legs are meant to handle such pressure. However, hollow tin cans, filled with cream-style corn are not. Eventually, one of the cans would not be able to withstand the pressure and would explode, spewing forth chunky yellow corn gunk.

Now, don't you fret...because my grandfather certainly did not. All one needed to do was wipe up the cream-style corn, and replace the exploded can with a fresh one. A fleeting fix, yielding temporary results. And so the cycle would continue. Can explodes, couch tilts, clean up the mess, and get a new can. Over and over and over again. I wonder what the local grocer thought about all the cream-style corn he sold to my mom's family?

How often do we do the same thing? How often are our fixes fleeting? How often do our attempts at taking care of something once and for all turn into transitory tries, spewing forth the chunky yellow sin gunk of our lives?

We endeavor in vain to cover up the effects of sin in our lives, without ever fixing the real problem. We deny our sins. We hide them. We prop up our lives with temporary legs of support which inevitably fail under the strain of the weight of our sins.

A temporary fix ain't gonna cut it.

For millennia, humankind has temporarily taken care of sin by offering up token offerings to assuage our guilt. We pretend that our minor offenses never happened, and rationalize our major ones.

We provide fleeting fixes, yielding temporary results.

But not God. God doesn't like to sweep things under the proverbial rug of our lives. Because inevitably, the rug wears out and must be replaced, or worse yet, is accidentally pulled back to reveal the chunky yellow sin gunk we've hidden there. God's not into fleeting fixes.

No, God likes fixes of finality, yielding eternal results.

God offered His Son Jesus, once and for all as THE one and only fix which would act with finality. And when we get really honest with ourselves and admit that we've screwed up, and we let God know that yes, we've screwed up...and BIG TIME...and we say we're sorry, asking for God's forgiveness, we receive the fix of finality. No can's of cream-style corn temporarily supporting our lives...but Jesus, God's own Son, bearing the burden of our sins, and obliterating them entirely from existence, as if they'd never occurred.

I love how the songwriter, King David says it in today's text: "We all arrive at your doorstep sooner or later, loaded with guilt, our sins too much for us—but you get rid of them once and for all."

Did you hear that? Once and for all! That's permanence, my friends. A done deal. Fixed forever. When we get honest with ourselves and with God about our sins, and ask for forgiveness, receiving the gift of His Son, our sins are gone for good. The problem is fixed forever. And it's that easy, my friends. Because God accepts you "as is." Just say it: "God, I've screwed up. You know what I've done. And I'm tired of trying to fix the problem with my measly attempts at a solution. I'm sick of cleaning up the mess, again and again. Help me God. I'm so sorry. I know I don't deserve it...how could I after the things I've done? But I'd really like to receive the gift You offer in Your Son Jesus."

And that's it. A done deal. Fixed forever.

Our attempts at fixing are fleeting and futile. God got it right in one try through His Son Jesus. We can continue to live in the ridiculous cycle of propping up our lives with temporary solutions which will inevitably give way to the weight of our sins. Or, we can get honest and say that we're tired of the cycle and ask for God's help to break it.

What's it gonna be? Aren't you tired of cleaning up chunky yellow sin gunk? Aren't you tired of the mess it's making in your life? Yeah, me too. I'm going to cancel my standing order at the grocery store for cream-style corn and receive the gift of a permanent fix...once and for all.

By the way, I still can't help but to laugh whenever we eat cream-style corn.