When justice and mercy collide

In itself the trial, beating, and execution of Jesus was a gross injustice. A truly innocent man was found innocent by the court, yet he was beaten and then killed. 

It is only when the crimes of all humanity, of you and I, are placed upon Him does it become an act of justice. It is by far the greater act of justice in all of human history. One man, held accountable and executed, for the whole of humanity, for each one of us, for me, so that we may live. The execution of Jesus is where justice, mercy, and grace collided, changing everything. 

Beautiful Grace Named Donna and Howard

So we met Howard and Donna at church, because where else would you meet people like Howard and Donna. It turned out they lived just down the street from us. We  had just started going to a newly formed  Life Group and invited them along. They jumped right in.

They shared the story of beautiful story of their life together and ended with this "We don't understand sometimes how or why God is doing what he does, but we see a beautiful tapestry of lives woven together."

At that time our family was in the middle of some of the hardest years of our post-adoption lives. Our hearts were empty, we had run out of grace to give to our kids who desperately needed more. We were barely keeping it together.

I don't know if Howard and Donna could sense this, if they knew how things were going.

Donna offered to tutor our kids. The teacher in her couldn't resist. She had a plan for our kids, she had a vision of what our kids could be, and most importantly she had a heart full of grace to share with all of us.

Where we doubted in our kids, she believed in them. When we doubted ourselves she believed us. When we were skeptical she was optimistic. When we were ready to give up, she persevered. It wasn't so much about the material she used, it was her heart full of grace and love. It made the difference for all of us.

I could make a big list of all of the changes we saw in our kids from their tutorage but that's not this story. This story is that she and Howard drowned our family in grace and love. We found our hearts refilled with hope, we believed again, we received and now could give grace. And we found friends to share coffee and tea and Halloween candy.

God's provision of Howard and Donna in our lives at that time was just what we needed. Not "just" as is "just enough", but overflowing, pressed down, pouring out excess, way beyond what was sufficient to the point of extravagance.

We will miss Donna and we will grieve with Howard and his kids. And we will look at the beautiful tapestry that is being woven by our lives and see the golden threads of Donna's life woven throughout.

On September 17th, 2018 I was stunned to find out Howard has passed away. And like a one-two punch I was devastated to find out he had killed himself. I don't understand, I don't think anyone will this side of Heaven. I really miss my friend.

This quote from one of Howard's classmates best describes him: "Howard was a person who noticed what so many others missed. he saw things and responded when others might not. He was a person who would cross any boundary or threshold to come, to sit with, and share with any person. In short, Howard was one who entered others' worlds and shared their lives, offering encouragement, friendship, and more."

So I want to share two thoughts. First, as you go through life try to be like Howard and Donna. Second, don't hesitate to reach out to those around you because you just never know. 

Sunsets...

  So I really like sunsets. They are my favorite. Sunrises are OK I guess, but they only reveal what can be seen to the earthly horizon, they show us what we already know.
  Sunsets on the other hand, slowly pull open the curtain to the Heavens. Each passing minute revealing an expanse beyond the imagination. Perspective changes as the horizon goes from being measured in miles to being immeasurable, unknowable.
  So, yeah, sunsets are the best.
 

The Theology of Men

So, we went to a church for  a while where the the theology of men was taught, and it was dangerous.

    It was a place where a man could stand and preach a Gospel that says "If everything works out perfect, it is Jesus at work." Which at face value sounds good, but what about when things don't work out? Is that Jesus not at work? What if you still are dying of cancer, or struggling with a failing marriage, or infertile? Are those times when Jesus says "I'll pass, have fun with that"? 

   It was a place where it was taught that the promises of God were subject interceding historical context and he could change his mind and not fulfill them if He so chooses. So if God can change his mind and go back on His word then what hope is there? All God's promises can be nullified in an instant based on this man's teaching. "But the teaching is great, we love his teaching".

   It was a place where I heard the phrase "God's purposes might be for you to be dead" from the pulpit. I get the theology behind it - the Jim Elliot story. But to a person seeking refuge from his own self-destructiveness, these made for an interesting day and a long night. 

   It was a place where I sought out healing, but my injuries weren't worthy of their attention. My story was inconsequential, not worth remembering. 

   It was a place where heads turned away when a soul was bared. Eyes were covered when a heart was laid open for others to see into. Instead of applying salve and bandages of hope and healing, transparency was covered with an old woolen blanket so no one had to look at the ugliness of the open wounds and pink scars.  

    It was a place where my healthy skepticism grew into full fledged cynicism, I became the snarling dog. 

   It was a place that was closed, and cold, and introverted. It was a place where people were invisible.  A place where ghosts walked in and out each week, forgotten before they arrived.  

   It was a sad place, a lonely place, a bitter well to drink from. It was the place that broke me. That place, those people, shattered what I thought the Church was. 

   In the end, I left that place. It was an unhealthy place. A dangerous place. A place of death for me.

   One of the hardest things to come to grips with is this - how can people, good people, nice people, well intentioned people, be like that? I really don't understand it at all, and a couple years later, I still don't. I just know I won't let it happen again.