I don’t always pay attention to how long I preach, but sometimes I take note. When I finished Sunday’s message, the clock at the back said 11:45 a.m. I didn’t note my beginning time, so the length could be due to something else (late beginning of service, longer than usual Greeting, long Lord’s Supper, etc.). Anyway, I generally try not to preach too long.

Which is why I didn’t end up talking about this. However, if there were such thing as a “Director’s cut” or a “deleted scenes” feature for my messages, I would have given you this illustration.

You’ll recall that Sunday I talked about Jesus’ “triumphal” entry into Jerusalem, and how it actually wasn’t all that triumphal. Rather than enter Jerusalem on a war steed with a legion of angels following close behind, he enters Jerusalem on a donkey. Matthew says it’s to fulfill the scripture in Zech. 9:9 that describes Israel’s king coming to her “gentle and riding on a donkey.”

Jesus could have chosen the way of force. He could have compelled Jerusalem, Rome, and “all the kingdoms of the earth” to bow before him. Perhaps this would have been a quicker solution.  Satan tempts him with this option at the onset of his ministry. Instead Jesus chooses the way of humility and service. He wins people over, not through compulsion, but by serving them (healing them, washing their feet, feeding them) and then inviting them to follow him. This is a more difficult way to win people over, but it is more reflective of the character of God.

Had I the time, I would have directed your attention to the story of Darth Vader. (If you’re not a Star Wars geek like me, just indulge me for a second.) For many of us who grew up in the 70’s and 80’s, the Star Wars movies were a borderline obsession. So when the last installment of the original trilogy, Return of the Jedi, was released in 1983, a nearly 20 year wait ensued for Episodes I-III.

Since we knew how the story ended, what could possibly manage to keep us interested for all of those years? One of those things was the story of Vader. How was this monster created? How did one of the great archetypal villains of cinema come to be? How was he transformed from a cute (if also a little annoying) kid in Episode I, to the sociopathic, mass-murdering, half-robot of Episode IV?

Turns out it’s the same thing that Satan used to tempt Jesus. Anakin is drawn to the dark side of the force because he wants to save the people he loves, first his mother, then his wife Padme and their unborn child. He has a dream that tells him Padme will die in childbirth. (He assumes that means the child will die, too.) So when Anakin’s tempter arrives in the form of Chancellor Palpatine, he succumbs. Palpatine tells him that there have been other Dark Lord’s who were able defy death. The promise of being able to save his wife and child is enough to draw Anakin over. 

As Episode III draws to a close, it’s clear that Anakin believes that the end justifies the means. Of course, the darkness is too great, and Anakin is not powerful enough to save his wife or himself from the evil that consumes him.

All of Jesus’ acts, including his not-so-triumphal entry, show that he chose the riskier, more difficult path. Rather than make a deal with the devil, he sought to conquer the world through love and service. Obviously, it’s taking a longer time, but the outcome is so much better.

At this point I could go on about how this might influence our behavior—the way we treat our friends and neighbors or how we address our spouses, children and parents. But my time is up. The “blog clock” is way past 11:45.  What do you think?  What does it look like to change the world through love and service rather than force?

No really this is it. I’m GOING to blog regularly. It’s just that, in spite of the fact that I have a computer, I’m still something of a luddite (word of the day) when it comes to this web publishing. So I haven’t been getting on here regularly. But Ray’s been doing way too much good work on the design of our website for me to ignore it. Sorry, brother.

Even though I don’t look like the poster-child for Runner’s World magazine, I do actually enjoy running. I like the solitude. I do some great thinking while I’m running. I like lacing up the shoes, putting on the headphones, and “clomp, clomp, clomping” on down the road. And boy do I clomp. A while back I ran in a 5K race. The official registration form actually had a “Clydesdale” category. That’s me.

Imagine my admiration, then, to see a recent feature story on “Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel” about Sister Madonna Buder—the triathlon nun. There are many things that make Buder remarkable. She has run over 300 triathlons. Over 30 of them have been the notorious “Ironman” in Hawaii. She has endured numerous injuries, including a triple fracture of the arm.

I wonder what parts of your life you could start viewing as an extension of your faith. What hobbies do you have? How can they be an opportunity to draw near to God? How can they be a chance to serve others? What about at work or school? How is your job as a parent a spiritual exercise?

The psalmist says “The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it” (Psalm 24:1). May we see today the sacred nature of everything we set out to do.

I’ve got another entry brewing–one about loss of faith. But it’s not there yet. In the meantime, let me take up Daisy’s questions about the childhood of Jesus from her comments on the 12/14 entry. Here’s a sampling of her comment: …for some reason in my mind it seems like Jesus’ birth makes a few waves maybe only ripples, and then the news of the birth of a King just fades away until he begins his ministry as an adult. I know about the story of Jesus as a boy wandering off to preach while his mother was looking for him, but not much else…Did people forget about his birth (even if they didn’t believe), or did they not know about it? Did Mary and Joseph tell everyone that their baby was a miracle?…It just seems so strange to me because we people have big gossipy mouths. Wouldn’t the story of Jesus (a baby King) grow and spread faster than he was actually able to literally grow up and prove it? So what Daisy seems to be asking is a question which has no-doubt been on the minds of so many Christians throughout the centuries. What happened to Jesus’ childhood? Why the gap? You’d think someone would be keeping up with things. After all, he’s the Messiah! Don’t they know how to keep up with their celebrity children like we do? Suri Cruise should be so lucky. (Wait. Did I just compare Katie Holmes to Mary? I think I’m going to have to come forward on Sunday.) Well. The truth is that we just don’t know. All we have from the canonical gospels is the story from Luke 2 to which Daisy alludes. Other than that there is nothing reputable. There are some pretty fanciful stories in later works (100 yrs. or more), but no one takes them very seriously. So, why the silence? I can think of a few possibilities.

1. The stories were written but lost before the formation of the New Testament.
2. No one wrote anything down. If they did exist, these stories didn’t “make the cut.” The only people who could have told such stories by the time Jesus was an adult would have been Jesus’ family: Mary, James, John the Baptist, etc. The only other people who had even a glimpse of his identity are the shepherds (If they talked who was going to listen?), the magi (They disappear to the foreign lands from whence they came), and a couple of old hermits living in the temple precincts. If those stories ever existed in written or oral form, the Gospel writers either never received them or chose not to use them.
3. Jesus and his family preferred to maintain anonymity. Messianic claims were a dangerous thing to make. In her fictional account of Jesus’ childhood, Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt, Anne Rice does an admirable job of developing this idea. In fact, she surmises that Jesus himself doesn’t even get it yet. There are these vague hints at something terrible happening in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:16ff), but no one ever wants to talk about it. Only at the end of the book does he begin to get a glimpse of his true identity. This theory could also have some scriptural underpinnings. It’s clear in the Gospels that Jesus is not in a hurry to reveal his identity as the Messiah. He initially balks at his mother’s request to do something about the depleted wine supplies at the wedding in Cana. Over and over again, especially in Mark, he tells demons and disciples not to reveal who he is. You’ll see this referred to from time to time as “the Messianic secret.”

So which one is it? This is PURELY speculation, but I think I like some combination of all three leaning heavily upon the third option. Until his crucifixion, Jesus was never a “storm the gates” kind of Messiah. And even then, it wasn’t the gates of Jerusalem, it was the gates of Hell. It seems to fit that Jesus preferred to maintain a low profile. (That would be a great title for a sermon.) He hung out with the “least of these”, he served, he prayed in solitude…You get the point. So that’s my 2 cents. What do you think? Got any other ideas? Coming up Next: “Faith vs. Doubt?”

In recent weeks, a number of you have asked my opinion about “The Golden Compass,” particularly the movie based on the first installment of the “His Dark Materials” trilogy by writer Philip Pullman. For those of you who don’t know, Pullman has professed a very “anti-religious” bias. In 2003 he said that his books were “about killing God.” In 2001 he said that one of the goals of his writing was “trying to undermine the basis of Christian belief.” He is an outspoken critic of C.S. Lewis, particularly his “Chronicles of Narnia.”

Is there really anything left to be said about the movie? It’s received so much attention already, and I feel a little bit behind in talking about it. If you really want to read some insightful stuff about it after you’ve read my thoughts, click here and read Kim Fabricius’ blog entry about it. I’m about to say something very similar.

Before I get started I should clarify what I have and haven’t seen: I’ve seen the movie, and I’ve read the first two books of the “Dark Materials” trilogy.

As for the movie, I have to admit that I liked it very much. (If you’re not interested in a review just skip ahead.) As you may know, the anti-Christian rhetoric has been toned down considerably, a decision that angered many fans of the books. It is largely devoid of religious talk. What’s left is a fine movie. It’s beautiful to watch. The look of the movie is wonderful. The acting is solid. Nicole Kidman is perfect as the villainous Ms. Coulter. And I loved Dakota Blue Richards as the hero, Lyra. On top of all that, this movie has what is hands down the COOLEST polar bear smackdown I’ve ever seen. (Actually, it’s the only one I’ve seen, but I doubt anyone will top it.) I’m probably in the minority in regretting that the film’s poor showing at the box office has put its sequels in jeopardy.

So should you see it? Should you let your kids see it? My answer (as usual) is “It depends.” If, after screening it for yourself, you feel that your children might be unreasonably swayed by any hidden atheistic agenda, I would encourage you to protect them from it. Further, if you yourself fear that the same might happen to you, I would advise that you do the same. I’m basically taking the same approach to it that Paul takes to the issue of meat in his letter to Corinth. (Go read 1 Corinthians 8, or listen to my sermon from 01.07.07)

My opinion is that the film gives no such cause for alarm. For that matter, neither do the books. The god that the book is taking aim at bears no resemblance to the living, powerful, merciful, dynamic God whom I worship. And Pullman’s church is merely a shadow of the historic body of Christ. Pullman does what many do, he doesn’t present an accurate picture of faith or of the church. He presents caricatures and precedes to destroy them. Rhetorically speaking, Pullman’s God and Pullman’s church (called the Magisterium) would qualify as “straw men.” As Fabricius says, “…the death of this God would actually do the church a great service.” This is the problem that I have with much of what the “New Atheists” are doing, but that’s another blog entry.

Perhaps the ultimate irony is this: Pullman’s books actually hold forth some very Christian virtues. No doubt, Pullman would object to my use of that label, but there it is. The heroes of his books display selflessness, courage, creativity, and an openness to spirit (I would say, Spirit). In fact, I fail to see how you can talk about any of these virtues or talk about anything that transcends the natural world without appealing to the Creator who gives us these values.

So to repeat: you’ll have to draw your own conclusions on this movie depending upon your own faith or the ability of your children to think critically. My guess is that most of our kids won’t come away questioning their faith. They’ll probably just say the same thing I did: “That polar bear fight was AWESOME!”

Anyone else seen the movie or read the books? I’d love to hear your take.

So I was rummaging around the proverbial “internet attic” looking for something, and I stumbled across this box hidden behind a bunch of other stuff. Picking it up, I wondered out loud, “Hullo! What’s all this, then?” (I said it that way, because my internal voice is that of a British constable.) I held it up to the light and blew off an inch-thick layer of dust. Written in permanent marker on the outside of the box was the word “Blog.” Suddenly, I remembered: “Oh Yeah! This church has a blog!”

Ok. That’s how it happened in my imagination. Really, though, I’ve had a few faithful people send me some kind reminders that I need to get off my duff and get this thing going again. They are so right. To those of you who have “spurred me on,” thanks.

But man has it been hard. And the longer I’ve let it sit, the more immovable this thing appears to be. I guess, as with most other things, the trick is to stop fretting about how to start it up again and just start. So let’s just plunge right in…

It’s always nice when something you say is echoed by someone who is brilliant. Click here to read a great post from Ben Witherington about the modern picture of the Nativity Scene and how the biblical witness actually describes something else. He speaks to that whole “No Room in the inn” idea, saying, as I did last Sunday, that Jesus and his family weren’t forced to live in a barn because the Motel 6 didn’t have any vacancies. More likely, they slept in an attached bedroom that also housed livestock: a common practice in those days.

If you don’t read the whole article, at least check out this beautiful little paragraph at the end of his entry. I wish I had said this:

The old medieval Christmas poem said ‘though Christ a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, if he’s not born in you, your heart is still forlorn.’ Let me just tell you however, if you let that Guest into your inner sanctum, even if you put him in the very back, he will surely take over and become the center of attention in due course.

Nicely said.

Coming Soon: The Golden Compass