Tag Archives: love

December 1, 2025 · 6:09 pm

Does God Like Me?

You’re fat.

You’re stupid.

No one even likes you.

You are worthless.

If it wasn’t for me, no one would even tolerate you.

There are millions who were raised by cruel and harsh men and women who have never known a kind word; who have never known what it is to be accepted or loved.

We learn our place in the world from those around us when we are little. Every child is born looking for someone looking for them. Does anyone delight in me? Do I have a place in this world?

Children can’t talk all the way through this or make sense of this. But they pick up the clues.

“Am I safe?”

“Am I loved?”

“Am I acceptable?”

In my family, I was the weird one. I thought that if I could be more like the acceptable people, perhaps my mother would love me. So I put on so many different types and personalities. I learned that I was on my own. I didn’t have a support group.

But I also learned that God was like this as well. If I could find the formula, if I could do everything just right, if I could say my prayers right, and find out whatever it was I was missing, perhaps God would accept me as well.

And yes, I know that “Jesus paid it all” and that God loves me because, well, he has too, doesn’t he?

But does God actually like me?

Have you heard parents that say, “I love you, but I sure don’t like you right now”?

I think sometimes that God thinks like this as well. Maybe he is on his throne saying, “Sam is sure a weirdo. No wonder he has problems.”

It’s hard to get that voice out of your head, especially when it has been engrained in you from infancy.

And unfortunately, we grow and often surround ourselves with the voices we are familiar with:

You are fat. You are lazy. You are weird. Nobody likes you. Everything you think about yourself is true.

You are a loser. You are weak. You are dumb.

These words surround us continually. They eat at the soul.

These are not the words that we have learned from Christ Jesus. He taught us to use words of truth and grace, seasoned with salt, edifying to the hearer.

Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers. (Eph 4:29)

There are so many ways to tear people down with words. One of the most insidious is to never revile out loud, but just simply let your victim know that they really aren’t very likeable. Perhaps they are weird. Perhaps they do things differently. Perhaps they think a little…not like you. This is the classic passive-aggressive bully. God hates it.

This one is close to my heart, because I am…let’s face it…weird. I cannot small talk for anything. I have no idea what is going on in any sporting event. I say weird things at weird times. I don’t have a clue what “guys do”.  At my bachelor party, two of my friends picked me up from work and said, “This is YOUR NIGHT. You can do whatever you want!” I sat on their couch and stared at them for two hours until they let me go home.

I’m weird. There is no situation where I am not awkward, no conversation that I can’t stop by saying something very weird.

And most of my life, I was absolutely convinced that most people would be far happier if I just went home. So I usually did.

It occurred to me the other day that I have a hard time believing that anyone likes me. And then it occurred to me that I carry this belief to God himself. Does God actually like me?

It is an interesting question. I think that question is particularly difficult for those who have been attacked with the tongue. How can anyone like me? Does God like me? Does it matter?

It isn’t the same as “Does God love me”. We know that God does love us. He loves us with perfect, infinite, unchanging love in Jesus Christ, his beloved Son. We also know that nothing separates us from his love.

But does he like me?

Our greatest fear is that God just barely tolerates us. He loves us in Christ, but really just wishes we would go away. Can you think of anything more shameful than hearing God say, “I love you, but I sure don’t like you much.”

Do you see what I am getting at? I’m trying to make the doctrine of God’s love practical, and looking at what it actually means. What does it mean to love someone that you don’t really like? I guess I just don’t get that.

Does God think I’m weird? Does he think that church would be better if I didn’t show up? Does he roll his eyes and sigh when I cry out to him yet again?

Yes,  I know that God hates sin and calls me to repent. I also know that he has cleansed me from sin. I know that he does not tolerate sin. I’m not talking about sin. I’m talking about the fact that I really like colored socks and don’t know what to say to strangers I’ve just met. I’m talking about the kind of clothes that I wear and the kind of music I like. I wear waistcoats and hats and say weird things.

Does God like me? I am not speaking about the independence of God. I know that God does not need his creatures, including me, for anything. I do not add to his blessedness, for in him are all the perfections of holiness. I add nothing to God. I get that.

But does God like me?

Here’s why I believe this question is important. We were created to be social, in fellowship. We were created to be loved and have friends, to walk with God, to speak with him in the cool of the day. We were created to live in harmony with one another. We were created to be accepted and to love and be loved and to belong. To know and to be known.

And we still have that memory of Eden. We still have the need to belong. My heart still cries out to belong, to fit in, to be acceptable. The human heart cannot abide being outcast. No one can live thinking that everyone wishes they would go away, that everyone just thinks they are stupid, fat, smelly, ugly and weird. We cannot live thinking that we are totally unacceptable. This is the insidious nature of abuse. It tears down and destroys what the heart longs for the most. The words of a spouse can hurt and destroy and kill far more than any weapon imaginable. To be unacceptable, banished from love, and undesirable is intolerable to an image-bearer of God.

So the question is very important. Does God like me?

If God does not like me, then I must seek acceptance elsewhere. The stupidest, most shameful things I have ever done I did to try to be accepted. I sought the approval of men, and failed all the way around. I still blush when I think of it.

But if I do not seek the approval of men, whose approval do I seek, if God does not like me?

Do you see what I am getting at?

What do I do to be accepted? I am loved because of Jesus Christ, but does God accept me? Does God like me? Do I need to wear more acceptable, “god-like” clothing? Use more Christian-like phrases? Do I need to change my personality to something more acceptable to God?

Once again, I am not talking about sin. I know I need to confess and flee from sin. I am asking what I need to do for God to like me. Does God like me? Am I likeable?

And when I asked that question, scripture after scripture after scripture came to my mind and I felt free at last.

Ephesians 1:5–6 (NRSV)
5 He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.

God chose ME because he wanted to, and he made me accepted in the beloved. God DOES like me, and I am accepted by him!

He made me the way that I am because it delighted him to do so.

Psalm 139:13–14 (NRSV)
13 For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.

He put together my frame, my form, my face. He gave me my hair and my eyes. he gave me this belly and these feet. He doesn’t think of me as defiled, ugly, unclean, untouchable, for he made me. He gave me these parts, and behold they are very good.

Get thee behind me, Satan! God gave me this face and said it was very good! How dare you insult the frame that God gave to me! I’m not dirty and untouchable and unlovable!

As for my gifts and personalities,

18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many members, yet one body. 1 Cor. 12:18–20.

(Read the whole chapter!) See how God has chosen ME and has given me the gifts that he gave me. He gave me those gifts on purpose. He knew what he was doing. He gave me my weird personality, he gave me my strange quirks. In fact, it is because I am different that I am valuable to the body of Christ, according to this text. If we were all an eye, who would do the hearing?

Look around your church, look at your fellow believers. God gave each of them their gifts, their looks, their abilities, their perspectives, their cultural and social background. And he did it ON PURPOSE.

It is his good pleasure to give you all the kingdom.

Does God like us?

Zephaniah 3:17–18 (NRSV)
17 The LORD, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness,
he will renew you in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing
18 as on a day of festival.
I will remove disaster from you,
so that you will not bear reproach for it.

And here,

Know ye that the LORD he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. (Psa 100:3)

Our God, thrice holy, infinite and almighty, the creator and sustainer of the earth made ME, and made me on purpose. He gave me my personality, my background, my gifts. he gave me the body that I have, and even the flaws are counted – like how many hairs fall.

And he said it was very good. He redeemed me in Christ, and calls me to put off the old man with the fears and the doubts. He told me not to be a man-pleaser, but to seek to please him.

Because of the work of the Lord Jesus, and because I belong to him by faith, I am accepted by God. And because I am loved, God has given me his spirit, and given me gifts.

Because he delights in me I am free to rest in his love. Because he sings over me, I can be at peace with everyone around me, for who can take me from his love? I can walk in kindness; I can use my gifts for his glory. I don’t need to hide them under a bushel. I don’t need to be ashamed of who I am. Because God delights in me.

ME!

I am not just barely tolerated by God, but accepted in the beloved. He loves ME, and, yes, if I may say so, he likes me.

And so let’s all put aside our doubts and our fears and run this race together, shall we? Let’s quit trying to lift ourselves up by tearing one another down. Let’s quit trying to one-up each other, bragging and boasting about our accomplishments. Let’s quit worrying about whether anyone else likes us or not. If God is for us, who can possibly be against us?

Be kind, courageous and faithful, for your God is with you!

“I am my beloved’s, and he is mine.”

In fact, he says this of us:

Song of Solomon 1:15–17 (NRSV)
15 Ah, you are beautiful, my love;
ah, you are beautiful;
your eyes are doves.
16 Ah, you are beautiful, my beloved,
truly lovely.
Our couch is green;
17 the beams of our house are cedar,
our rafters are pine.

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September 16, 2025 · 5:07 pm

On being woke

I’ve mostly blocked all those who cause me unrest or threaten me. But every once in a while I hear something like, “All my friends say you went woke.”

To me, that’s the strangest insult a professing believer can hurl at someone since “a friend of sinners”.

To be woke is to be awake. And it is the best thing that has happened to me, even though it often makes me want to rise with the roosters and scream at the new day.

I used to sleep through the abuse, the degradation, the sexual harassment, the racism, the horrors of American History –

Is it better being awake? I see the horrors. I feel deeply the hundreds of years of hopelessness degradation and pain inflicted on image-bearers of God in the cotton fields. I can’t even imagine the trauma. I can’t imagine being forced at gunpoint in the middle of the night to cross a river with your small children, watching them drown behind you with nothing you can do about it.

I can’t imagine watching drunken white men with rifles rape your wives and daughters and then kill them in front of you for fun.

And I can’t imagine whitewashing it, as if it didn’t happen. To repent means to fully acknowledge the pain you have caused and turn from it.

So yes, being awake hurts. It feels deep and cutting.

But I can’t sleep again. To be asleep to it is to be dead. To be alive and to love, and to feel brings pain, but also brings longing and hope and the eyes to look for a new day when justice rains down like water on a dusty land. How do you long for justice when you are dead?

I wish that everyone would wake up. I pray that the light of Christ would fill the soul with the same tears that fall over Jerusalem.

O, Evangelical Church in America! How often would Jesus have lifted you up in his loving arms and taught you love and mercy and grace and peace! How often would he have exchanged your nuclear weapons for joy! How often would he have torn down your walls and given you goodness and faith and love! But you would not. You exchanged it for pride and money and sex and entitlement and power. You found another way to break your own heart.

My tears are falling, but I’ll never be asleep again.

Arise, you who sleep, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light (Paul the apostle, from his letter to the Ephesians.)

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August 25, 2025 · 8:14 pm

When it bursts, then what?

I have to admit something. I struggle, as you have probably guessed. The Angry Orange Lunatic and his sycophants have cost me tremendously over the years in real life. And he hasn’t cost me near as much as he has cost our brown brothers and sisters, our trans friends, our gay friends – those who live in fear every day.

I watch men dragged away from their wives in tears. I hear the unfounded accusations, the blatant lies and false witness. I weep with all of the young women who have been raped by white men in power without any recourse, crying out for justice on this earth and seeing none.

I see beautiful cities run over by humvees and SS troops dragging homeless men and women out to die.

And worst of all, I see the evangelical and Reformed churches cheering and celebrating cruelty, lies, assault, groping, concentration camps…

And honestly, I struggle with hatred. I pray for the destruction of the enemies of humanity.

And it bothers me, because I really don’t want to become like them. I want beauty and harmony and peace. I want love and gentleness and safety – not just for me, but for all of God’s creatures.

Even the mouse that I told you about yesterday broke my heart and I couldn’t put out another glue strip since.

And I think of humans in God’s image locked in cages, fed almost nothing, no privacy, no dignity, no safety – and I see former friends and family that cheer on this administration, not in spite of the atrocities, but BECAUSE of the atrocities.

See. My blood starts to boil again. What do I do? I don’t want to live with rage. But I don’t want what is happening in the country to keep happening.

But what is even worse is this – it isn’t one man. It isn’t one group of men. It is the whole history of this country that this country is trying so desperately to whitewash.
It is the millions of Africans that we enslaved without hope, picking cotton year after year, generation after generation, without any agency, free will, value, dignity – and still lifting their heads up through it all and crying out for freedom. The image of God in them still bursting through the hell that the white church put them through.

It is millions of natives slaughtered, lands stolen, massacred – men, women and children. All of them living through trauma I will never know.

It millions of Latinos and Latinas fleeing death sentences working hunched over melon fields and lettuce fields to scrape a living, and now fleeing for their lives, hated and pursued like animals.

And it is knowing that I will be crucified online for being “woke” for saying it.

Fred Rogers was too soft for the adults in my childhood. They hated him, Bob Ross and men like him for being weak, and called out for “men to rise up and lead!!” The fruits of the spirit were never seen. Only strength, domination, control. Anything else was giving in to the hippies.

Orange Taco isn’t an anomaly. He’s the pustulous cancer that the rot of white supremacy pushed to a head. The pus started about the time of the first slave ship was brought over by the puritan and congregational landowners who couldn’t be assed to pick their own damn cotton. That pus has grown and grown, and now he’s about to burst, and then what? His followers will crawl into obscurity like every single other one of his sycophants, dressing like a chicken and singing for a few bucks like Rudy Giuliani. Selling one’s soul is never cheap, but there are still takers.
And when that pustule has burst, then what?

Will we see national repentance? Will we finally admit that people with melanin, and non-hetero or non-cis people, or people from other nations or other genders or other histories or other cultures or other religions are human beings in God’s image, loved as his creatures, redeemed as his creation and worthy of dignity, honor, freedom and love as much as we are?

Will we finally embrace the catholicity of God? Beyond race, beyond color, beyond culture, the creator and sustainer of all life, not just white males?

Or will we continue to shrivel up into ourselves like C S Lewis’s dwarves – “The Dwarves are for the Dwarves!” – refusing redemption, refusing beauty, refusing love and holding our damnable pride. Mowing over roses of hope and joy to erect concrete structures to beat the wicked heads against? Softness and beauty and subtlety gives way to power, and the rot that is left continues to destroy the soul.

I can’t make that choice for you. I know what I will do. I will take the rose that God gives as his gift to men. I will take beauty and gentleness. I will take courage and color and truth – and I will humbly leave God to judge the world, for he knows far better than I do how to go about it without destroying it.

I will try to deal with my anger the best I know how, and long for a better day when love prevails and I no longer have to watch such gleeful cruelty on my screen every day.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus. How we need you.

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July 2, 2025 · 6:03 pm

On learning to love myself

Healing takes place when stories are told in safe places. I don’t know who said that, but I think it is time to take it seriously.

My mom passed away. Her funeral was the day after my heart attack so I couldn’t attend. I had already said goodbye and wasn’t planning on going anyway. I had already made peace with it.

I can’t carry this shame anymore and I need to speak.

Saying things in a family where saying things is never done takes a lot out of me. But I’m tired of carrying it.

Mom, I’m sad that you couldn’t love me.

I’m sad that I don’t know what a gentle hug or loving caress from a mother feels like. I’m sad that I knew your fists and your paddle more intimately than words of love. I’m sad that I knew your words of contempt or anger and never knew words of intimacy or love.

I know I was a child, and lots of parents wish they had done differently. But I wish that when I was an adult you would have loved me enough to listen. I wish that you could have loved (or at least, liked) the man I became. But I was always a little bit short of whatever made people acceptable. I never knew what that was. And even into my senior years, you carried your belief that I was weird, unacceptable, unlikeable.

I love you, but I wish you had loved me. I’m sad that I wasn’t able to be whatever you were looking for. I’m sad that I was a disappointment to you.

I’m sad of hearing all the stories from friends and relatives that were told about me and how weird I was and how I was just “funny” and not quite up to whatever standard you had for me.

I’m sad that your rejection had ripple effects that I couldn’t foresee, and couldn’t fix. I was just…different. I was just…weird….

I’m sad that your friends gave me a wide berth when I visited and treated me like something was wrong with me. But that is what you believed. I just never knew what that was.

I was just “Well, you know how Sam is…”

I’m sad that you called my mother in law before I got married and told her that my wife should rethink things because I am so weird.

I’m sad that you told me that any girl I might be interested in college couldn’t possibly be interested in me. And that I still didn’t know why. It was such a heavy burden to carry.

I’m sad that I had no one to turn to when I was a child, that the little boy that was me had to try to figure out life by himself. He did it mostly by trying to imitate those who were acceptable.

The little boy didn’t know why mom didn’t love him. He just knew that maybe if he was more like the twins or more like his older brother, she might like him more. So that’s what he tried.

And it was exhausting. I quit trying to be someone else years ago, and had to just settle for never being enough. But I never really learned how to ask for help. I just learned that family didn’t have my back.

My kids weren’t enough. My wife wasn’t enough. I’m sorry that deep down you really believed that we just made up health issues for some reason or another. And I’m really sad that you told all your friends that. And I was really tired of trying to prove to you that we were struggling with severe health issues. So I quit talking about it.

I’m sad that you believed that I wasn’t qualified to be a minister because of….something lacking, I guess.

And I’m sad that you couldn’t love me. I’m sad that you couldn’t like me. And I’m sad that you taught me not to like myself.

So here is what I’m going to start doing, and wish I had done it years ago. I am going to try to give that little boy that you taught me to hate a little love.

He wasn’t weird. He was just trying to figure things out. He was just trying to be loved, safe, and protected.

I’m going to be who I am and stop carrying those things that don’t belong to me. I’m going to try to give myself a break. I’m not going to carry shame and guilt anymore.

I’m not going to listen to that voice that tells me that if I only had more…something…then maybe I’ll be worth loving, and maybe even worth liking a little bit.

But I will still be sad about it. I wish we could have had a relationship that wasn’t based on how much I’ve disappointed you, or disappointed the family, or disappointed people I haven’t even met.

I wish I knew what unconditional love from a mom looked like.

And so I will spend my life giving and receiving love, where I didn’t have it. I will love the little boy that was me (at least try to). And I will try to learn that there are a lot of pretty good things about me.

And I’m sorry that you didn’t see me. Some people say I’m a pretty lovable guy.

And I’m saying this because I love you. But I’m also very tired of living a lie. It isn’t good for anyone.

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June 19, 2025 · 3:34 pm

On Getting Old

I don’t understand what happened. Yesterday, I was doing the Bird with Morris Day and the Time and all of the sudden I got old.

Thank you all for the birthday greetings. I truly love my birthday because of the greetings. There are some that I am like “Hey, they haven’t unfriended me yet!” and that makes me smile a little.

And then a lot of new faces. I love my new friends, my new community. I feel safe for the first time. I love my new church family. I can’t describe to you what it feels like to be safe to grow, to examine theology, to have deep thoughts without fear.

I never had that. Ridicule or anger from my father, or contempt, plotting and hatred from those who vowed to partner with me in ministry. Safety is a new feeling – psychological safety to question, to wonder, to learn and to grow.

And meeting new friends! It is so wonderful to see things from new perspectives and meet people from new backgrounds. I am beginning to understand the holy, catholic church in new ways, and it is truly liberating.

But now I get tired when I do the Bird and my joints ache.

My memories collide with my shame and all of the things I tried to use to hide behind.

I figured that if I acted a certain way, maybe then I can hide from the faces of people and try to pretend that their judgment doesn’t bother me. Maybe then my family of origin would welcome me into their circle. I got so tired of being on the outside wondering what it was like to be acceptable.

But that just dug the hole deeper and deeper

And I am so glad to be learning to be free from the shame of my existence. I won’t go back. I’m tired of hiding who I am.

I have anxiety. I am not at all sure of myself in most situations. I spend a lot of time wondering about things.

Today I wondered what would happen if I tried to play a digeridoo at my cat. My cat did not approve, but it was pretty funny.

I know, this is not appropriate behavior for a man over sixty.

Sigh.

I don’t want to be elderly. I want to listen to 21 pilots with my grandkids, smile at all the ways they want to make the world a little better. I want new legislation, I want everyone to be able to access healthcare; I want everyone in my community to be able to eat healthy food if they want to. And I want them to be able to afford cake and ice cream if they want to.

I don’t ever want to fall into the trap of saying, “Back when I was a kid, things we a ton better” – because they weren’t.

Abuse was rampant, racism wasn’t even hidden, women couldn’t buy houses or have credit cards, and if you had nothing, you starved outside.

I thank God for all of those who had the courage to say “Enough” – And I want to always have that courage. The courage to look at the world and say, “NO. I’m not happy with how we turned out. I’m not happy with our kids being addicted to drugs and violence and porn and alcohol. I’m NOT happy with turning our backs on people with disabilities. I’m not happy with unequal pay and gender bias. I am not happy when LGBTQ kids are kicked out of homes and schools and workplaces. We can do better.”

I’m old. But I’m not dead. And I’m not deceived into thinking that “we had it made back in our day.”

We are better than this. To my kids, I am so ashamed that my generation left you with this. Be better.

As for me, I still love to learn. I still love new ideas. I love listening to Taylor Swift’s new albums and don’t ever think that back in my day we had real music. Get real. We had “Abracadbra. I want to reach out and grab ya.”

Every generation had things that were horrible, and things that we good. Hold fast to the good. Throw out the horrible.

Throw out the racism, misogyny, lust for power and control. Throw out Reaganomics. It’s a bust and a lie. Throw out the garbage you inherited.

Learn to love and to laugh and to stand up to masked thugs.

Let’s have a few more years on this earth.

But seriously, thanks for the Birthday greeting.
I feel like I’ve had to put up with myself for over 60 years now, so I’m going to need some pie.

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May 22, 2025 · 5:07 pm

Love wins

For four hundred years, white Christians have twisted the Bible and bullied, threatened and lied to hold onto the idolatry of white supremacy.
God will not hold them guiltless.

But it isn’t Christianity. They’ve actually been persecuting Christ and his people, and have been since the time of Christ.
Many thousands of us have been hounded out by arrogant supremists masquerading as the people of God. But they are known by their fruits.

Power, supremacy, money and status are the pursuits of anti Christ and their passion is lit by the fires of hell.
They will not succeed, no matter how much they preen and boast.

Those who practice hate, contempt, racism, misogyny, blasphemy, lies, fornication and adultery will always crushed under the feet of the Lamb, and those who follow the Lamb, with the courage to love, and the faith to practice peace will rest with him in this world and the world to come.

Babylon will have its last hurrah, and they will be blown away by the breath of God.

These are the those who cheer when the George Floyds and the Emmit Tills are tortured to death;, but their blood cries out from the earth to the ears of the Living God.

So give voice to the voiceless, speak for the cast out, embrace the broken, feed the hungry, rebuke the racist, be intolerant to the sexist, hug the trans kid, and don’t lose heart.

These guys don’t win. Hate always loses.

Take heart. Love wins.

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May 18, 2025 · 5:17 pm

Profit and loss

Last summer I was walking through a grocery store and overheard two elderly gentlemen in a discussion. They were talking about the felony convictions of 47. They didn’t doubt he was a criminal felon. They talked about his rapes and they didn’t doubt them. They talked about his narcissism and psychotic tendencies.

And then I overheard one of them saying something I won’t forget.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll probably still vote for him. In the end I reckon he’ll put more money in my pocket than the other guy.”

That made me sad, and I thought about it.

The argument resonated with me because I was born and raised in those circles, so I’ve heard it before.

Cut taxes. Lower prices. Leave more money for all of us.

We were eventually tricked into thinking that this was the whole of the human experience.

I’m all for cutting waste and spending money wisely, but I think we need to remember what Jesus said over and over again.

What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his soul?

I don’t think he was thinking about Grecian metaphysics, with a dichotomy between spirit and body. That was a bit of a foreign concept to Jewish thinking.

Soul meant something more profound. It could be translated “life”, or “breath”. Jesus could have been talking about death. What will it profit a man to gain everything this world has to offer and then die.

And that is true. Solomon had the same insights in Ecclesiastes.

But I don’t think that even that exhausts what Jesus is talking about. Because to the mind of a first century Jew, psyche meant something even more than that. It means everything that makes a human a human. It means the self, the part of humanity that was created to reflect God.

Living through these days, I think I am starting to get a glimmer.

If your whole life is consumed by profit, and the whole of your morality is who will leave the most money in your pocket, soon you will lose your very soul.

The music and the dancing. The part that plays with the cat.

The song and the poetry. The art and the novel.

Empathy for the outcast. Love for the neighbor. joy in colors and art and expression.

The glint of a rainbow on the tear of a shepherd, the rapturous joy in the final moments of Beethoven’s fifth symphony.

The chills of the entrance of the trombone in Prokofieff’s third piano concerto; the astounding skill of Caravaggio and the brilliance of Poe.

The perfect pairing of wine with each course of dinner. The beauty and joy of the embrace of love.

The first kiss. The first time someone spoke to you with respect. Your first time making love. Your first embrace.

The first time you found someone and realized that you were wanted and loved.

Standing in the middle of a lonely highway in Wyoming singing Mahler at the top of your lungs after one too many…(not that I have EVER done this).

Growing your hair long, or cutting it short. Wearing an earring, getting a tattoo.

Or having a conversation and sharing a glimpse of your soul in safety, without fear. It took me too long to realize the joy of that. I longed for that and never knew it.

And we forget beauty and freedom and love and joy – because we are afraid.

Egg prices get high. Gas gets high. Somebody is different than I am and wants to come to my church.

And all of the sudden you are afraid that you won’t be good enough or pure enough or strict enough to earn God’s favor because you did something wrong somewhere, or you accepted and loved a sinner, or were friends with a sinner on social media, so now God is going to remove his blessing.

And somewhere along the line, you forgot – Your blessings, your “money in the pocket” doesn’t come from a politician or from making the right choices, or from working hard or running faster or having stronger will power…

It comes from the uncontrollable, unlimited, incredible love and goodness of God.

As my pastor said this morning, “It’s God’s party, and he can invite who he wants.”

And that blows the mind.

Because the love of God is free. His love and blessing for you aren’t dependent on how well you perform. He delights in you and delights in your personality and your dancing and singing. He created you to laugh and sing, even though there are times when we weep and mourn – the laughter will come again. If we don’t crush it out of fear.

And when you know and feel that love of God given so freely to you, suddenly love becomes far more important that how much money is in the pocket. And then you might see that God’s resources are unlimited. There is enough for everyone. But God is calling us to step away from our vaults and our counting machines and our investment portfolios and our fear and learn to dance again.

Cast your bread upon the waters, For you will find it after many days. Give a serving to seven, and also to eight, For you do not know what evil will be on the earth. (Ecclesiastes 11:1-2)

Paul and Silas sang in prison. We can sing with expensive eggs. Maybe that is the lesson God is showing us. That the price of eggs isn’t worth the price of the soul.

Sing, dance, paint, write a poem. And more importantly than even that –

Let your neighbor draw, sing, paint, write and dance. His enrichment might actually enrich you.

It certainly won’t make you poorer.

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April 23, 2025 · 6:39 pm

Love and Hate

I don’t think that republicans were either stupid or mislead in November. Trump’s character wasn’t a hidden secret. I think that they were motivated by hate and contempt. The hate of Maga had been fanned into flames for years on Fox and right wing radio, just like Rwanda in the 90s.

And they found someone who hated the same people they hated. And that was that. It didn’t matter that he had no character, no morals, no ability, no leadership, and no ideas. Hate was all that mattered. Now we reap the results.

But here is what bothers me. I fear for the future of our country. I fear for the immigrants, the women, the minorities, the children. It will continue to be a hateful, ugly mess for years to come. It might even destroy us unless someone stops it.

I have been fearful of that, and that is reasonable. But I’m starting to fear something else. I am starting to fear that those whose eyes are opened to this frightful mess will become hateful and contemptuous themselves, and the cycle will never end.

I see it in my own soul. I see the hatred blinding those who used to be friends and I get angry. Is my anger turning to hatred? I don’t know. I don’t think so. But I worry about it and pray about it.

I think maybe I need to spend less time following the dumpster fire. Not that it isn’t important to be involved and know what is going on. Social media has a very important role to play. Outrage can change politics and force action.

The question is how to express that outrage without becoming that which you despise…I don’t know if I have the answer.

But maybe after the outrage we should turn off the computer, pet the cats, watch the birds, have a scotch, read a poem, smile and wave towards the neighbors.

What good does it do to save humanity if we lose our humanity trying to save it?

I think that might be the lesson of the Republican Party. They became driven by hate for others and Donald learned how to tap into that hatred. It is all that matters.

But what good does it do to gain the whole world and win elections when you lose your soul doing it?

Now they cut art and music and libraries and healthcare, and help lines. As long as it is only the people they hate that are dying, they don’t care. It isn’t about budgets, it is about ugliness and contempt and revenge. The hatred that I have watched in the churches is now being acted out on the national stage.

So many conservative churches preach about the hatred of God for people they don’t like. They will preach on John 3:16, but the sermon is usually mostly about how it doesn’t mean what it says.

And it fires me up. Blasphemy and hatred and hurting image-bearers makes me really angry.

But in my anger, I need to remember beauty. That the one I am angry at is also an image-bearer of God. I want them to stop the hatred, but I want them to turn and learn about beauty and love.

But it isn’t easy, especially when those you love are being hurt, when children are separated from parents, when foreigners are targeted and criminals are celebrated and we live in the upside down.

But I think the only way to show the world that the country right now is upside down is if we refuse to be upside down ourselves.

So protest – but don’t forget beauty.

Picket – but feed your neighbor.

Withdraw from your MAGA congregation – but don’t let their evil consume you.

Learn to brush the dust off of your feet and not bring the uncleanness of the devil’s kingdom into your own home. You walk on holy ground.

I think this might be what Paul means when he said, “Be angry, and sin not.”

Don’t let the dust consume you.

Remember that there are always more with us than there are with them. There will be weeping for a night. There will be helplessness and hurt and pain and sorrow. There will be indescribable injustice. And who knows when God will deliver us from this evil time.

But the church has frequently been in hiding, so in hiding we might go. That’s OK. Jesus goes with us. It is the nature of this age. Resurrection comes, glory comes – but only after crucifixion.

Revelation 12:10–12 (NIV)

10Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: “Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Messiah. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.

11They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.

12Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short.”

His time is short. That is why he is so angry. Be patient. Protest, protect, picket – but be patient.

The funny thing will be all the people who will respond with fury, contempt and hatred trying to convince me that they are not full of fury, contempt and hatred. Funny how that works.

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November 29, 2024 · 7:49 am

The risk of love

A misogynist is not one who hates all women. He only hates those women who step out of line. As long as they stay in their place, he might even marry one.

A racist will always say, “I’m not a racist. I had a black friend years ago.” He really only gets angry when BIPOC eat in the wrong restaurants, drive in the wrong neighborhood, jogs through the wrong neighborhood, or are smarter, richer, and more talented than he is.

A transphobe really does hate trans people. Well, not if they dress and act and present themselves as the  “right gender”. But then they wouldn’t be trans, would they? So this one is on them…

A transphobe or a homophobe would insist that they don’t hate the person. They just hate the behavior and can’t appear as if they are condoning it.

So they won’t use the preferred pronouns. If you say, “Hey, maybe we should just love people and use their preferred pronouns” then you better have some blocking in place on your social media, because it is about to get ugly.

I’ve been thinking about these things lately.

And that, of course, leads me to thinking about love.

Other than Hugh Grant or Ricky Gervais, who freely admit it, most people don’t just come out and say “I hate everyone”.

But I have spent way too much time listening to conservative pastors warn about the dangers of loving the wrong sort of people in the wrong sort of way. My father used to say, “Sloppy agape” and chuckle at the cleverness.

And now they write about “toxic empathy” which is actually just empathy but it allows them to remain hardened and stiff-necked towards their neighbor and cover it over with a sheen of religiosity.

There was a belief system that I was nurtured in. Many of us were. Those of use who eventually tried to question it were finally run out.

The system that I am talking about is a culture disguised as Christianity. It is a culture of fear and distrust.

Archie and Edith sang the song of the culture:

Boy, the way Glenn Miller played!
Songs that made the Hit Parade.
Guys like us, we had it made.
Those were the days!
And you knew where you were then.
Girls were girls and men were men.
Mister, we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again.
Didn’t need no welfare state.
Everybody pulled his weight.
Gee, our old LaSalle ran great.
Those were the days!
source: https://www.lyricsondemand.com/a/archieandedithbunkerlyrics/thosewerethedaysallinthefamilythemelyrics.html

Yes, I’m old enough to have lived through it. I wasn’t allowed to watch the show. It was just liberal tripe. All the adults in my circles believed exactly what Archie Bunker believed and knew that they were being mocked.

But I digress.

The culture is this:

“If we love our neighbor, society will fall apart.”

Therefore, Love in the Bible must mean something different.

My dad would say “Love is the fulfilling of the law” – and what he meant by it was that if you didn’t steal from your neighbor or sleep with his wife, then you have fulfilled the law of love towards your neighbor.

I know I’m going to hear the “not everyone was like this” – and maybe you would be right. If there was someone in my church, my hometown, or my childhood that believed that schools shouldn’t be segregated, homeless people should be clothed and fed and housed, that BIPOC should be able to live peacefully in any neighborhood that they chose and people could love who they chose, they kept those views very quiet, so I never met them.

But here is what I did hear, and some of it I even believed and taught myself, to my shame.

If we love the wrong sort of people the wrong sort of way, things will fall apart completely.

Here’s how it goes:

“If we allow women to sit on committees or vote in congregational meetings, they will want to start leading the church, they will rebel against their husbands and pretty soon it becomes a woman’s club. Look at what happened to the….” (fill in the blank with a church that has women in leadership positions).

“If we have lunch with the effeminate kid (I hate that word so much) then people might think that we are gay and get the wrong idea.”

“If we listen to the kid that was raped in Sunday School, we will harm the ministry’s reputation and might never recover”

“If we let our wives vote, they might vote the opposite of the husband and cancel out his vote and his authority in the home” (These are the people that are being appointed to the cabinet next year, by the way).

“If you give that co-worker a ride to work, people might see you with her and think all sorts of bad ideas”

If you meet alone with a woman, people might think bad things about you. (I’ve written on this before).

“If you give that homeless guy a sandwich, pretty soon they will all keep coming back for more.”

“If you allow the migrant farm workers to fill their water jugs on your property, then pretty soon they will all come to fill their water jugs on your property.”

I have heard every single one of these. They were statements made publicly, for the most part. It was simply a part of our ugly culture.

But the biggest fear of all was satirized by the Bunkers. If we let men dress like women and women start acting like men, then society will go to pot. God will judge us and destroy us. He will send planes into towers and hurricanes into cities. Crops will fail.

An old minister said to me, “God can’t bless America like this” after a Supreme Court decision that he didn’t like.

I asked him if God’s blessing EVER came because we kept the law properly. He went silent after that.

He really believed that the days when blacks were on the plantations, women were disciplined and stayed at home, children were beaten into submission, and nobody aired their laundry in public were better days, worthy of God’s blessing. He really believed that if we could simply get people back into their places again, we could “Make America Great Again”.

If however, we set up a welfare state, women will just keep having babies and more babies just to get higher checks each month and we will go broke. We will have a society based on theft.

If we let black men carry weapons, we are just inciting violence. The second amendment only applies to white men and BIPOC who know their place and stay in their neighborhoods.

If we let trans people read to children, they will make our children prey and turn them gay.

The real problem I think is that Archie Bunker might have to pay a half a penny more in sales tax. Or that he might treat a woman like he is used to treating women and then she turns out to be a man and maybe His predatory habits might end up like “Crying Game” and he might be perceived as being gay.

Love is risky

The Bible never once says that if you love your neighbor, everything will turn out fabulous.

You might love your neighbor and have every homeless man in town knocking at your door for a sandwich.  Love them anyway.

You might appear as if you are condoning sin in the eyes of the Church Lady if you call the trans kid by his preferred pronoun. Do it anyway.

You might have a child that announces that he is gay and going to move in with his boyfriend. Love your gay neighbor anyway.

The migrant workers might learn a trade, start earning more money, maybe even get the job that you really wanted. Love them anyway. Welcome them. Protect the vulnerable.

When you help the child prosecute the pastor for sexual assault, your church might close the doors. Your reputation might be permanently destroyed, and you might never pastor again. Sit with her anyway. Sit on her side of the courthouse.

When you help your abused neighbor file for divorce against her violent and horrible husband, you might be cast out of your community, called horrible names and maybe even run out of your church. Do it anyway.

You might be called a friend of sinners. Love them anyway.

You might be spat on and considered dangerous. Love them anyway.

You might have to try to get away for a few days to avoid the crowds rushing to get some bread and fish. Love them anyway.

And they might actually crucify you – literally or metaphorically. Love them anyway.

Because love is risky.

Loving those who love you back is easy. Everyone does that.

Loving the ones who don’t threaten your place or your nation is easy. Everyone does that.

Loving the ones who wear their hair the right way or wear the right sort of clothes, or vote for the right candidate is easy. Everyone does that.

But that isn’t the love that Jesus calls us to. Jesus calls us to the love that costs. The love that is risky. The love that gives everything away rather than lose the soul.

The love Jesus calls us to is the love that might even end up getting us hurt or killed. We might lose our jobs. We might lose our place and our nation. We might lose our fancy ministries.

Love anyway. Let them talk. Sticks and stones and words hurt and destroy. But love abides forever.

Don’t redefine love to make it no longer risky. When you redefine it like that was it is no longer love. When it sticks to the party line, it is no longer love.

If you love your life, you will lose it.

Over against the Archie Bunker mentality, we need to learn to love more than ever.

The vulnerable population is scared. Love them. Political parties don’t need your love. Your neighbor does.

The future cannot be manipulated. That is the heart of what the Bible calls witchcraft – seeking the formula to force God’s blessing. It only leads to crucifixions and burnings and banishments. And it won’t ever secure the future.

The future is in God’s hand alone. So rather than say, “This is just a slippery slope to ruin…” Try saying this:

God loves me and will never let anyone pluck me out of his hand.

Even if I use a kid’s preferred pronoun. Even if I stand with the abused spouse.

Even if I eat lunch with a gay man. Even if I give a woman a ride home.

Even if I meet with a woman in my office.

Even if the whole church brands me a publican and a sinner.

Even if I pick the wrong candidate to vote for.

Even if I give the homeless man food and a blanket.

And even if my taxes go up so that vulnerable people can also get healthcare. Even if I decry systemic racism and they brand me a communist.

Even if my sales taxes go up a half a penny.

Even if I stand with the oppressed.

God’s got the future. Love is risky. Love anyway.

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September 19, 2024 · 5:50 pm

The amazing, astounding, infinite love of God

17…that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—19 to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Eph 3:17–19.

Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. (Anna Bartlett Warner)

There are two ways of thinking about God.

The first way is “transactional”. This is the way of Cain. The way of Esau. This is the error that Israel fell into over and over.

It is the thinking of the slave: “If I do things right, I’ll get what I deserve. If I mess up, I’ll get beaten.”

God hates it, because it is a denial of who he is. It makes him into a petty pagan god, dishing out favors to the right kind of people.

And we read all of scripture through those lenses.

“If only those people had made better choices”, we say to ourselves, “better things would have happened to them.”

We do this because we are terrified of bad things happening to us. And ultimately we only trust ourselves to make the choices to protect ourselves.

We will shelter our kids.

We will build bigger barns.

We will eat right and exercise.

We will make right choices.

There isn’t anything wrong with those, except this – we don’t really trust that God loves us and will take care of us as he has promised. So we need a backup plan. That would be my own strength and ability.

After all, we say, “The only one I can really trust is me”

But this is not the God we serve.

The second way is the way of love, a God who seeks and saves, a redeemer who loves us so much more than we can possibly imagine. It is the way that we can only see when God finds us wandering and alone and scared.

Look at Israel. God delivered Israel from their bondage – but they refused to embrace that love, because it required trust. So they made gods that they thought they could control.

If they had the control, then they could protect themselves from enemies, from hunger, from thirst, from wild animals.

And God said, “I will never leave you or forsake you. I will lead you to quiet waters. Be still, and see the salvation of YHWH.”

But they would not. “What if God doesn’t come through?”

And that same error is made by so many. 

If I mess up, God will curse me. If our country messes up, God will curse it.

We have to get rid of sinners, aliens, lay-abouts, single welfare moms. immoral people. Paul calls this way of thinking “the flesh”, because it is natural to human nature.

We have to work hard and take hard stances…Because deep down they view God as an angry, harsh, taskmaster waiting for us to step out of line so he can gleefully cast us into hell.

Popular celebrity preachers take great joy in talking about how happy God is to rid the earth of people like us.

But the flesh always has the same result”

19 Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, 20 idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, outbursts of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, 21 envy, murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. Gal 5:19–21.

It is why we continue to read of the immorality and betrayal of the preachers of the flesh. Do better things, and God will bless you.

But there is no power there. There is no power to change the heart in the law. The power of the flesh always results in tyranny and oppression, as Paul attests.

But scripture says this”

16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. 17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved (Jn 3:16–17).

I was taught to have contempt for this verse. I heard far more sermons on how God can’t mean “everyone in the world” then I heard about the love of God. That is sad.

But Paul’s prayer for his friends in Ephesus was that they might know the amazing, astounding love of God –  so fierce, so powerful, so unyielding, that it has no conditions, for Jesus paid them all already.

So that we can rest. I mean, truly, truly rest.

We no longer have to live in fear and hate. We no longer have to fear that we might pray wrong, and have God zap us.

We no longer have to fear that we might screw up, and God will say, “See. I told you Sam was no good.”

I have spent too much of my time worried that I might get something wrong. So I memorized the answers I was supposed to have.

I parroted the things I was taught, afraid of stepping out of line.

We were afraid that if we raised our kids wrong, or if they read the wrong books or listened to the wrong music, that they would step out of God’s love.

And we forgot the astounding, amazing, infinite love of God.

Read Paul’s letters. Is it actually possible to think too highly of God’s love?

But you can only see it when you reach rock bottom. You can only see it when you are afraid, fleeing, lonely, broken, sinful.

Until then, you think that you deserved God’s love somehow. Unlike those gay fellers. Or those Haitians. Or those women. Or those hippies.

Sure, God can love them too – but only if they cut their hair, learn our ways, learn our language, quit being gay…

And if they don’t, then God will gleefully rid the earth of them so that people like me can  live without being bothered by the likes of them.

If you think this through carefully, you will finally understand the rage of Cain and what caused him to kill Abel. How can God accept that guy?

Or the rage of the Pharisees against Jesus. “How can Messiah eat with those loose women? those tax collectors?”

And then you say, “But Jesus didn’t leave them that way. He changed them… he confronted them”

But the truth is that Jesus loved them before the foundation of the world. His love made them lovers, and he sought his bride and is bringing her home.

It was not the law that made them lovers. It was love. Finally someone who got them, who listened, who loved them as they were, who heard everything about them and still loved them.

“We love him, because he first loved us”.”

And we will always, always, always feel ourselves unworthy of that love. We will always feel that we don’t deserve it. That we didn’t earn it, that we aren’t good enough.

And that is the nature of love. All of that is true.

He didn’t say, “If you do the right things, I will show you my love.”

He says “I came to seek and to save that which was lost.”

That’s you.

That’s me.

And he has found us. And every day he says to his bride (That’s you, if you didn’t get that),

Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the young women. Song of Solomon 2:2

And his bride responds – (again, that is you, if you didn’t get that):

Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. Song of Solomon 2:3

Sit in his shade. He is the God of Manna. He provides all that we need, because he loves us, not because we earned it. He is returning us to Eden, with the trees laden with fruit that line both sides of the river of life!

Stop thinking like a slave, and think like a child.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus!

Every day in eternity you will meditate and know and feel the love of Christ and never exhaust it!

He loves us. He delights in us. He takes joy in us. He sings over us. He makes us beautiful because he clothes us in his garments and washes us by his blood and spirit.

And he crowns us with jewels and gold and precious stones, far greater than anything we can imagine.

But, “The bride eyes not her garment, but her dear bridegrooms face. I will not gaze at glory, but on my king of grace.”

This is love. This is the vast, unmeasured, boundless, inexhaustible sea of love.

Don’t turn that into a petty pagan god, issuing crumbs from his stingy fingers as long as we perform right.

Instead, rest in his love.

 

 

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