Brittle moonwalking

I'm about to finish a book that I will base a six-part sermon series on in May, early June, called In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day. In addition to having one of the all-time great titles, the book is well written by Mark Batterson, a church-planter/pastor from Washington, D.C. I can only hope the sermon series is close.

The book is about making the most of ouropportunities, even when those opportunities are disguised as difficulties. The book is about taking risks. It is about re-framing problems into chances, about taking care of our fears, about ignoring the odds against us, and it is about just how big our God is. I'm using these themes as sermon jumping off spots for the weeks after Easter as I try to motivate two churches as summer closes in with  its lazy lull of vacation and meandering.

The eighth chapter of the 2008 book begins with a quote from Madeline L'Engle that reads, "We try to be too reasonable about what we believe. What I believe is not reasonable at all. In fact, it's hilariously impossible. Possible things aren't worth much. These crazy impossible things keep us going."

I adore that.
Crazy impossible things keep us going. Not improbable. Impossible. The kind of thing that God specializes in, when only He could get us through that moment.

Sundials go backwards as the sun does the moonwalk in an Israeli sky.
A fearful man walks on choppy water.
Wishful water turns to wedding wine.
Wrapped dead men come back to life before the word Zombie is even contemplated.
A whole bunch o' bones stand up and look for moisturizing cream on a dry afternoon.

Above all else, on page after page of the very Word of God, those who are lost keep getting found, and grace like Easter chocolate kisses is thrown into a turquoise sky for all to catch, for all to keep, for all to give away.

In the 136th Psalm, there is this wonderful exchange of God praise, raising hope for those who were having a heck of a time finding it.

We all have plenty to do this Friday, but take a moment. Imagine you're perhaps on the banks of one of Babylon's rivers on a dry Friday, and you're crying out in pain and suffering, remembering the "good old days"  that have gone the way of the Temple.

You're stacking useless harps because you've been played out. You're wondering when or if you will ever feel like worshipping again...

Just when bleak is the special on today's menu, you look up and sweet goodness, a whole lotta church breaks out, soaking all in His Spirit right on down to those brittle bones ...

..."to him who alone does great wonders, His love endures forever. Who by his understanding made the heavens, His love endures forever. Who spread out the earth upon the waters? His love endures forever. Who made the great lights — His love endures forever. The sun to govern the day, His love endures forever. The moon and stars to govern the night; His love endures forever. To him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt, His love endures forever. And brought Israel out from among them, His love endures forever. With a mighty hand and outstretched arm; His love endures forever. To him who divided the Red Sea asunder, His love endures forever. ... ..Give thanks to the God of heaven. His love endures forever.

As the sun crawls sheepishly above a dull horizon this morning, I'm reminded that God's love truly endures forever. It runs downhill, like the Jordan at the top of Israel till it empties like a spent pitcher of liquid to the South.

Ponder this. That the Holy One of Israel, the creator of the freakishly improbable universe, so large we can't possibly fathom, would love little mischief-making humans, is so far beyond impossible to understand it's like a Smurf being appointed head of homeland security.

We are complicated beings in love with a complicated God. But complications can be made straight and simple. Give thanks ...His love endures forever, like a couple of Clintons in government. You just can't get rid of it (or them).

That being the case,  I mean God loving us forever, we can take those risks, take those chances, take those moments. The worst case imaginable is no problem if we fail. God has our back. Death? God beat it up. Suffering? God created the care-givers and the medical schools and, well, the meds. On and on it goes.

Give thanks, His love endures...forever. It's there for the taking, like a fruit tree near a fence. Stick a grateful hand forward. Feel his presence. Absorb the extravagance. Soak up the warmth.

It doesn't get better than that because there is no need for it to. Once you have the best, there's never a need to settle for the rest again.