A Coupla Bums

I have a friend... It's true! 

Actually I have several, maybe not as many as you do, but they seem to be okay with me, even as quirky as I am, so I am not going to argue. Each one of my friends has been a particular blessing to me and has filled a very distinct place in my life. 

The friend I am talking about today is a very different kind of a friend. He appeared out of nowhere, I see him very infrequently, he is cantankerous and grumpy, he seems to have difficulty playing nice with others, he has incredible health issues that further keep him from being more of a regular friend, he has been hurt terribly and isn't so sure he really has the desire to be in community again. 

All of that said, when I have needed a lifeline, God has faithfully sent him to me on several occasions. I can’t even describe the kind of love that he has shown to me just by the careful way he has sifted through all of my rantings and found some kind of insight or encouragement for me. He has been voted "Most Likely to Understand Me", in all of the complexity of a life being lived, hopefully respectfully, in a sometimes sterilized and polished looking community of faith (at least on the surface) while absolute mayhem has broken loose in my life.

 

As I have gotten real and vulnerable, pouring out the bad, the worse and the ugly, he has been an amazing friend like one of the characters from one of my favorite books called, “The Cure” that says, “Yeah? Is that all you got?”

 

I don’t need or want him to be perfect or posture himself in a certain way, I just need to know that he is never going to tell me in word or in action (as is quite common to hear when the storms don't blow over as quickly as expected), “Brian, this is just too messy for me. You need to put a nicer face on this stuff. Aren’t you supposed to be better by now?”

 

My friend and I have traveled some similar roads and though we are very different personalities and he has a few years on me, there is a commonality in the way we wrestle, grapple and process the challenges we face. We have both tried to ascend to a place of religious knowledge and practice and been slammed back to earth. We are both, very admittedly and unapologetically, broken beyond all repair. Our best human hopes for our lives, seemingly shipwrecked.

 

If either of us idiots are ever going to be of any effect in this world it isn't going to come through what my friend calls “Victorious Christian Living” (with tongue firmly planted in cheek), it will be through the experience of great pain and the humble compassion we learn when we see what we are really made of (trust me, it ain't great). I am so glad that God has given me such friends!

 

As I lie next to my fellow bums, amidst the dented garbage cans and filth, I am awakened by a beautiful light, and the sweetest song I have ever heard. It moves my heart with a sense of the surest hope, security and comfort. I look up to the sky to catch a glimpse and it fills me with wonder and amazement. Tears stream down my face. I don’t want to appear crazy, because I almost can’t believe how wonderful it is, but I venture to ask if anyone else sees and hears it too.

 

One guy says, “Of course I do! That beer sign has been there for years!” 

Another says, “Charley has been singing the blues around the corner all night! He won’t shut UP!”

 

“No!” I say, “I don’t mean that! The other light! The other song! Don't you hear it?”, but they just figure I am having a crazy spell and roll back over.

 

I begin to doubt my own eyes, the light begins to fade, the song gets drowned out by Charley's lonesome musings. I try to calm myself and lie back down. 

Just then something catches my eye. Through the pale glow, another bum has his eyes wide open to the sky and I can see the tears glistening on his cheeks, just like mine. 

He looks over at me, and I give a knowing smile. He smiles right back and wipes the tears. 

I notice a handkerchief sling on his arm. "I am sorry 'bout the arm, man! You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, it hurts real bad. Not sure if it got set right.  But I got this feeling that no matter what happens here, we are gonna be alright!"

As we talk, we both notice that the light and the song comes flooding back, even stronger than before. With our face to the sky we feel a shared hope and a bond that will not easily be broken.

 

I guess it all just seems like some crazy dream unless us bums can stick together and share our experience of this amazing grace, with our hearts open, in the midst of the messed up brokenness of this alley.

A Seed With A Choice

I know this is probably painfully obvious, it is to me too, but somehow I have a new sense of immediacy as to why our flesh needs to die out:

 

1.       Whatever fleshly part of us continues to live, tries to justify its own existence and grasps onto this temporal life (ie. reputation, sexuality, children, finances, career, you name it).

 

2.       Whatever grasps onto this life, and works to prove it’s worth  (justification), keeps us from entering into God's rest.

 

As I am being installed into my place as a slave to Christ, my flesh has thrashed about like a wild animal who doesn’t fully realize he has been overwhelmingly captured. I have desperately tried to figure out what I might cling to from my old life…My God will have NONE of it.

 

I imagine a terrified street urchin being caged and carted to a palatial new home by a kind and caring benefactor who has adopted him. He is caged for his own protection because he has not fully accepted that this gift is for real. Even after having been given proof of his good fortune he still clings to his last moldy crust of bread. As compelling as the evidence to the contrary may be, something deep inside of him still believes it to be his only hope of survival.

 

Sometimes I feel as though I have been shaken like a rag doll and much of what I was holding onto has been mercifully released from my grasp (I think I have described it before as being “Slapped out of my hands”). I had to be compelled to let go of that old life and even grieved the loss (there is a deep grief even if it is only a partially eaten crust of bread, it represents survival) even as I am being released into a gloriously beautiful freedom. I know there is much more that I could let go of, but God is being very patient with me.

 

I think I understand today more than ever what Jesus means when he tells us:

 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.” (John 12:24-26 esv)

 

I believe there is much evidence to suggest that the greatest world changers in Christian history (I mean the good ones) have wrestled with their faith, had their legs broken by Jesus’ in their own personal, terrifying, Sermon on the Mount, and rode atop Christ’s shoulders into those foggy, darkened margins just outside of what might be considered plausible, tidy, genteel, or reasonable. If we will go with Him where He leads, I am guessing His fiery sword (His Word) will provide just enough light for us to witness his majestic love at work, but not enough to allow us to get real comfortable. We get really stupid when we think we know the lay of the land, or when we start to feel our own strength again. 

I pray we will cling to Jesus ever... only.