Corrupt Goldfish

My boys, like most boys, like video games. One of their favorites is Terraria, a fantasy epic where you collect weapons and treasures while fighting monsters and strange beasts.

One such strange beast is called the "corrupt goldfish." It's basically what it sounds like, a mutant goldfish that tries to bite your head off. It's a great blend of creativity and disturbing imagery, to take something as harmless and pet friendly as a goldfish, and turn it into a killer monster. Goldfish have snack crackers named after them, for crying out loud... 😄

Anyway, so a harmless goldfish is now your great enemy and a terrible threat.

Some days, it feels like we're living in a world full of corrupt goldfish, so to speak. People can be so wonderful, so friendly, so amazing, and as harmless and pleasant as goldfish. Then there are days when the corruption really comes out. People who are supposed to bear the divine image act like hostile, corrupted evildoers ready to bite your head off. What gives?

And the truth of the matter is, I'm the same way. Some days I'm much more like Mr. Hyde, rather than Dr. Jeckll. 

(By the way, There's a great Petra song about this here...)

Anyway, I'm rather disappointed when humans, including myself, act like corrupt goldfish. 

That is all.

Adjusting to Pandemic Mode

It has now been a couple months of “Pandemic mode,” where we’ve been forced to be home more than usual, and also disconnected from others more than usual. I wonder if this has been challenging for you in some ways, and if it has also been good in some ways. Are your relationships experiencing new tensions or breakthroughs?

Clearly, many in our society are at their wits end... from armed protests to conspiracy theories exploding everywhere--the patience of many has run out. Talk of "reopening" is yet another occasion people are finding to duke it out over social media. 

For me, I have enjoyed being able to see my wife and kids much more than usual. Working from home allows me to observe their days as they play, work on emailed assignments from school, etc. It also creates some challenges to staying focused on work as I get interrupted far more than usual. “Dad, can you play with me? Dad, I need to go potty! Dad, get the spider!”

My wife and I generally get along great. Of course, we naturally have the occasional kerfuffle which may start an argument. In the past two months, however, we have probably argued more than we ever have in our marriage of almost 18 years. The combined stress of having the kids home all day, trying to create reasonable routines for schoolwork, having very limited options for getting out or socializing, and trying to telework with distractions galore, has created many occasions for fighting.

Don't worry, we're doing fine--just learning a lot of new rhythm together. It’s forcing us to learn patience, adaptation, communication, and collective problem solving on a deeper level. I’ve had to remember to assume the best in my wife and kids when I can’t seem to find the normal quiet working environment that I would normally have at my work office. I have to remember that this is a major adjustment for them, too, and not just for me.

1 Corinthians 13:5 tells us that love “keeps no record of wrongs.” Another rendering of this phrase is that love “does not impute wrong motives,” which means that love does not project a negative motive onto someone else. In other words, love always assumes the best, gives the best benefit of the doubt rather than assuming the worst.

Man, does that ever feel important right now... When I get hyper-focused on the work I need to get done, anyone who disrupts me basically becomes the devil incarnate in my mind. It’s rather silly, but for a man who has a hard time getting back into the “zone” of concentrating and getting things done, interruptions feel like pure evil. That does not give me the right to take it out on my wife and kids, though. I’ve done a lot of repenting lately just on this one thing. You’ll never regret taking a 5 minute break to hug, love, and affirm your child, or a 15 minute break to play with them. Those memories will stick in their little brains forever, helping develop them into the adult they will become and the kind of parent they will become. Plus, it forms the picture of God they believe in.

All that to say, if you are struggling with working from home, adjusting to the current realities, dealing with new stresses, experiencing new relationship tensions—you are not alone. See it as a growth opportunity. It will be okay, and this too, shall pass.

Peace Be With You. Do Not Be Afraid.

When I went to officer training school, we all quickly developed a healthy fear of the MTI’s (Military Training Instructor), commonly referred to as "drill sergeants." They were at every corner, waiting to scream at you when you made the slightest mistake. No one likes getting yelled at, so we quickly learned to do the right things in the correct way… and we STILL found a way to get yelled at! It seemed there was no way to please them—they were always on edge, ready to explode at the slightest mistake (God bless those folks—I will never forget that experience, and the good training that came from it).



Have you ever felt like God is on edge with you, ready to explode at your every mistake? Many people live with this sort of condemnation hanging over their heads, or at least with a subconscious fear that God might have a gigantic temper. I lived many years like that. It's one thing to have a healthy reverence for God, and quite another to live under the bondage of fear. There's some language in the Bible that often leads people to believe God is like a cosmic MTI, ready to explode with anger. But having recently celebrated Easter, there’s a powerful insight for us to notice in the resurrection accounts that addresses this.

In Matthew 28:5-10, the women come to the empty tomb, and the angel tells them, “Do not be afraid.” The women run, both excited and terrified, then Jesus intercepts them and they fall down and worship him. He tells them, “Do not be afraid.” 

In Luke 24:36 Jesus appears and tells the disciples, “Peace be with you.”

In John 20:19-21, Jesus twice tells the disciples, “Peace be with you.”

In Mark 16:6, the angel tells the women, “Don’t be afraid,” and in 16:8, it says the women were terrified and said nothing to anyone, at least initially.

Question: Why were they so terrified? Why do they need to be told several times, “Do not be afraid,” and “Peace be with you?”

There are several reasons for their fear. First, they are afraid of being associated with Jesus, and perhaps receiving the same fate (see John 20:19). Second, an angel appears to them. This is nothing short of terrifying. Forget the images of a chubby baby cherub in a diaper with wings, and replace it with a terrifying, holy creature that you can hardly stand to look at. In Matthew’s account, it says the angel’s appearance was like lightning (28:3).

Plus, they are seeing a man who was clearly dead, and yet is now alive again. They think he’s a ghost (Luke 24:37). But even more terrifying—and this is probably the biggest reason—this was not just any man. It’s God incarnate… and the last thing all of these disciples did was abandon him when he needed them most. They all left him alone to die, stopped believing he was the one, gave in to fear after 3 years of following Jesus and watching him heal the sick and perform miracles. They all swore they would stick with him, yet when it really counted they all abandoned him. Is it possible they are afraid that Jesus might be a bit upset with them? Are they afraid there might be hell to pay for their faithless scattering (see Mark 14:27-31, 50)?

They have every reason to believe they are “on edge” with God at this point. They had basically sided with Jesus’s accusers by running away and hiding.

Yet here are the consistent words from Jesus when he appears to them after he is risen: “Peace be with you. Do not be afraid.”

This is a powerful, crucial moment. That moment when we know we have really blown it, when we have done the unforgivable, Jesus’s word to us is “Peace be with you… Do not be afraid.”

The forgiveness of God is a deep mystery. At our worst, Jesus says, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34).” Jesus proclaims forgiveness for the things we are not even aware of, the unconscious evil actions we haven’t even begun to repent from because we haven’t discovered that we are even doing these things.

God is not caught off guard by our sin, and therefore “on edge” with us when we blow it. Rather, God sees our whole life and is committed to our redemption. He saw everything we would ever do, and absorbed it into himself on the cross.

So may you hear his words: “Peace be with you... Do not be afraid.”

New Beginnings Start in the Dark

I’m not generally a fan of dark times. What do I mean by dark times? I mean times marked by difficulty, disruption, suffering, and loss. I’m guessing you’re not a fan, either. Life tends to bring plenty of difficulty and loss with it. Jesus once said, "In this world, you will have trouble." An immediate "amen" accompanied by a deep sigh rises up within me. He was certainly telling the truth. Jesus finishes that statement with, "But take heart, I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). Another hearty "amen" rises up within me.

Where do we find hope in the midst of such looming darkness? I mean, it's one thing to hope for a different kind of existence later (such as heaven after we die), but what about now? How do we navigate dark times in the present?

In the Bible, the imagery of “darkness” represents different things. It can represent blindness, ignorance, judgment, sin, evil, danger, death, … and new beginnings.

For instance, at the beginning of the Bible, the creation poem starts with darkness, chaos, disorder:

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters,” and then, “…there was light” (Genesis 1:1-3).

So what starts with darkness and chaos and disorder culminates in the light of a new beginning. The Spirit of God is at work in the darkness, and the darkness becomes light. This pattern is found throughout scripture[1], revealing that deep in the conscience of the people of Israel was this idea that darkness, chaos, and wilderness were a precursor to new beginnings.

Think of how a new life begins in the darkness of the womb (see Psalm 139:11-15), or how the seasons follow the pattern of death (fall, winter) and resurrection (spring, summer). This pattern is made explicit in the life of Jesus, whose Passion Week begins with the darkness of suffering and death on the cross, but culminates in the light of Resurrection.

New beginnings often start in the darkness of the cross. But in that dark place, God is often doing deep, transformative work, leading to a resurrection. Are you in a wilderness, a time of darkness, a form of chaos, a time of testing?

Take heart, and trust the process. Let it change you. Grapes must be crushed to make wine, diamonds form under pressure, olives are pressed to release oil, and seeds grow in the darkness. If you feel crushed, under pressure, pressed, or in darkness, you are in a powerful place of transformation. Hold steady, and rise up!

A new beginning will dawn.

                                                 
[1] In Old Testament imagery, the concealing or covering quality of darkness is often associated with the appearance of God… ie. God’s covenant w/ Abram in Gen. 15, God appears on Mt. Sinai in a shroud of awe-inspiring darkness in Ex. 20 and Deut. 4-5, God appears in a dark storm in 2 Samuel 22, God dwells in thick darkness in 1 Kings 8 and 2 Chronicles 6—(contrast with 1 Timothy 6:16, God “lives in unapproachable light”)—these are often under the premise that humans cannot see God and live, so God veils himself as an act of mercy, while initiating a new beginning with his people. For some New Testament imagery, see also Acts 26:18, 2 Corinthians 4:6, and Ephesians 5:13.

The Faithfulness of Dogs

My two dogs are the most faithful, gratitude-filled, forgiving, loving, loyal creatures that ever lived. I'm sure that when they die, they will hear these words of affirmation from their Maker:

"Well done, good and faithful dog! Enter into the joy of your Master's bacon mansion!" 

No one greets you like a dog does. They are happy to see you and act like you are the best person ever, every single time you walk in the room. They jump around like you're some sort of big deal, and even if you never give them your dinner scraps, they hope against hope that perhaps THIS time you are beyond the awesomeness they already think you are, and will let them lick your plate clean (for the record, I do occasionally give them some leftover scraps, just not very often or they won't eat their normal dog food). Has anyone ever given you the benefit of the doubt like a dog does? They are unshakable in their positive outlook. 

Even when they are disciplined (after they steal my daughter's cookie out of her hand, for instance), they humbly repent by laying down beside you, placing their head on your leg, and showing remorse. But all it takes is a, "That's a good boy, oh yes you are, oh yes you are!" along with a pat on the head, and they are instantly wagging their tail, jumping around and trusting that you are the best human ever. Talk about resilience! When I get in trouble, I usually go mope around for a while, sink into despair, and pray through Psalm 88, claiming "darkness is my only friend." Not dogs. They bounce right back up with unshakable consistency, ready to embrace the immense goodness of the universe.

My dog Maggie is a mini dachshund, so her legs are about 4 inches long. She’s also 15 years old and her back isn’t as strong as it used to be. That said, she can’t jump like she used to and needs help getting up on our couch to lay down. So if she wants up, she just comes and sits at my feet, and patiently waits for me to pick her up and put her on the couch. She’ll sit there for an hour, just waiting. Of course, I don't ignore her for an hour, but there have been times when I was working on something and didn't notice her sitting there until a good 15 minutes passed. Then, when I finally notice her, she'll give me that excited awareness that I finally noticed her and prop herself so I can pick her up and put her on the couch. No anger, impatience, or sarcastic "It's about time!" glare comes from my dog. I am instantly the best person in the world for noticing her and picking her up. 

Maggie

My other dog Diesel is a mix of dachshund and something else. We got him at the animal shelter after he was abandoned in a field. He's never quite recovered, and has been a timid, fearful dog ever since we adopted him. But even though he is always afraid, he is as gentle as could be. He often looks into your eyes and just stares, usually looking like he feels guilty and unworthy. Poor thing. I'm pretty sure in those moments he is thinking, "Just love me with sausage and snuggles. You're the best human ever."

Diesel

This is why dogs are definitely superior to cats (which are quite moody and entitled) and are quite possibly superior to humans (which have accomplished great things, but are also responsible for government computers). You just can't get treated this well by anyone else. Dogs are loyal to the end.

So when I think of faithfulness, my dogs come to mind. They actually inspire me to be a better human. What if we treated each other with the utmost dignity, hoping against hope for the best in each other, and giving each other the best benefit of the doubt the way a dog does? What if we waited patiently for each other, expressed superior gratitude just to be acknowledged by another, and refused to hold grudges? 

The world would be a better place.