The Phil Files

“I only appear to be dead.”

Today is the birthday of Hans Christian Andersen — you already know that if you are a fan of The Writer’s Almanac from which this thought comes. Having lived a hard life, losing his father at only 11 years of age, Andersen had some unusual quirks that made his short stories and fairy tales interesting. They also made for some interesting twists in his life.

One of the quirky twists involved Andersen’s fear of being buried alive. To settle his nerves and reassure himself in the face of his fears, he left a note beside his bed each evening that read, “I only appear to be dead.”

As I looked over the responses to my last two posts, and as I wrestled with the harsh difficulties of some of my friends to whom I have tried to minister, I realized how deep the hurt and how grievous the wounds of many ordinary people. Now I know some of you are thinking, “There is no such thing as an ordinary person. We are all special in God’s sight! Jesus died for ALL of us and EACH of us at the same time.”

Who can quarrel with such a statement? So then, how to do explain to ordinary folks who are broken why they are neglected in their hurt, forgotten with their wounds, and even avoided because of their brokenness? They don’t feel like the extraordinary person who has fallen from grace in a public way. so why should they be shunned? They don’t feel weird or out of the ordinary, so why should their struggles be somehow more odd than others.? My only answer is that God’s people, the folks who are called to be living the good news of the Kingdom, only appear to be dead. We’re not dead, we’re just sleeping.

An old line from Graham Green’s challenging little novel called The Power and The Glory comes to mind at a time like this: “The church sat there like a block of ice melting away in the heat.”

Some of the criticisms pointed at Jesus’ followers are overly harsh and unfair. Even Jesus himself acknowledged that only 1 out of 4 seeds would be focused and fruitful. The Lord said that in the fields where God’s good seed grows there are also those who look the part, but are really only weeds. Our Savior reminded his closest friends that while he cast his net of grace wide and far, that net came back with some fish that needed to be thrown back because they were false. (See each of these stories in Matthew 13). So we should not be surprised when we face — and sometimes when we are reason for — the criticism of those who see our imperfections and contradictions.

However, if we were not the habitat of hypocrites, where could flawed people go? If we didn’t have folks who were weak and sometimes slipped back into their old and broken ways, where could broken people find companionship for the journey of transformation?

Seems to be the test is pretty simple. Do we love God and love people? If we love God, we are dissatisfied with our lack of our own progress and turn with renewed commitment to Jesus for grace AND power. Transformation doesn’t happen without both. In addition, we love others. So we do not pretend to them that we are something that we are not — we are honest about ourselves and our struggles — and we invite them to share our journey. Redemption in real life doesn’t happen for us or others if we do not.

Sounds so simple. Unfortunately, it seems, we fall asleep. So maybe we need to add a line to Andersen’s adapted statement: “We only appear to be dead. So please pray that the Holy Spirit will rouse us to live with the heart of Jesus.”

No wonder the apostle Paul reminded church folks a long time ago about the words of one of their hyms:

Wake up, you who are sleeping! Rise from death, and Christ will shine on you.” (Ephesians 5:14)

Saturday’s been a busy day around the Warehouse! Not much of a Saturday rest for us. Of course, all the stuff we’ve done today is good stuff … well, except for the trip to the mall, the grocery store, and Wal-Mart: on a Saturday in West Texas when there is no football, everybody and their dog was shopping — and I mean that literally, one place we went in today had two people shopping with their dogs.

We got a lot done, but not nearly as much as we wanted.

And then we got back home and tried to figure out what in the world to eat on this low-carb diet we’re all on. We’re trying to regain the proper dimensions: let me put it bluntly, when your circumference is more than your length, you just might be … well, let’s move on, that’s too convicting!

So, we cut up and fried some low carb tortillas. Not even a Paula Dean size serving of butter to fry them in could make them taste any better than slightly crisp cardboard. But thankfully, Donna had pulled out her new food processor and made some of her world famous pico salsa. Yeah, baby! It makes everything taste good, even low card hockey pucks — aka rice cakes.

Once the jolly holiday without carby passed, we went back to work getting tax letters ready for Heartlight donors, working on computers to get them ready for my travels, and getting read for Sunday. Then there was the sermon stuff with slides and sermon and communication. Then there was all the work on getting everything online for Heartlight and church. By the time we all most done, the day was done, long before we finished what we had hoped. And just as i started off toward bed, I remembered my nightly thoughts on our blog … Oops! Didn’t make it. Fell asleep. Got the readings done and everything, so I’ll post the Luke 14 thoughts on Sunday afternoon!