Author: danefowlkes

I shared the following this morning at the request of a close friend who wanted my thoughts on how best to respond to the gay marriage issue in a practical vein. I offer them with hope that they may prove helpful to others:

The challenge in confronting any contemporary issue is that such is always tied to culture that by definition is confined to a commonly held set of beliefs and practices. Culture is always transitory and subjective. Take flag flying for example. In American culture at this moment displaying a rainbow flag is expressing freedom of speech while the same culture clamors against raising a historic symbol of the Confederate States of America from the 1860’s. What I’m getting at is the need for Christ-followers to look to that which is above culture, not for the purpose of taking a stand, but rather to have a confident standard against which to consider every momentary and subjective cultural voice. These steps are always in order when addressing cultural muddle:
– Examine Scripture critically (the Bible can never mean today what it didn’t mean when written), and determine the best biblical response to the issue/practice. 

– Explore the cultural issue with an open mind so that personal preference does not cloud biblical principle. 

– Listen with compassion to persons directly affected.

– As God grants opportunity, articulate biblical perspective as a matter of compassion rather than debate. 

– Love the individual without condoning aberrant practices or conceding biblical values. 

– Be known more by what you favor than by what you oppose.
Hopefully, Christians will respond to this and any other cultural quandary in a manner brings light to a darkened culture and, in so doing, rightly reflects the Lord Jesus Christ who offers salvation and abundant life indiscriminately. 

The challenge is always to balance grace and conviction. Fortunately, the two are not incompatible. “Honor and majesty are before him; strength and beauty are in his sanctuary” (Psalm 96:6). Refuse the lie that claims you cannot stand for truth while loving those who are living a lie. Conviction and values actually fuel greater compassion; brokenness increases in direct proportion to our awareness of how far we all are from holy God. Smug self-righteousness is not the necessary corollary to certainty. Any Christian knows by experience that Christ opposes the proud, but grants grace to the humble. As Scripture directs, “Having done all to stand, stand (Ephesians 6:13-14), but offer a loving hand to those who have yet to find their feet.

I am saddened by many things today, but think what concerns most is the condemnation by some believers of those who oppose the Supreme Court’s ruling. I have come to expect such diatribes from those opposed to the Cross, but am chagrined at those who claim to know better who claim any stance on biblical morality as closed minded, narrow, or inequitable. These intimate that Jesus was misguided when stating that his Way is narrow. Make no mistake about it–Grace never diminishes sin; whispers whenever possible and shouts if need be that we need not remain in sin nor be defined by it. When grace fades into any shade of gray, the light is indistinguishable from the night.

I don’t make it by my favorite coffee shop as often as I’d like, but that adds to the anticipation and appreciation of the moments when I do. I entered the first time because it was new and only two blocks from where my wife works downtown. I return in part because they serve the best cup of fresh ground coffee in town against the backdrop of great jazz, but primarily because I find myself here. The floors are old–black and white honeycomb pattern–a nostalgic companion for the more contemporary brick, wood, and metal accoutrements that are well suited for a downtown coffee Mecca. I come here to reward myself for nothing in particular, a book tucked under one arm and cell phone at the ready. The place is called ‘Dichotomy’ because they serve coffee all day and spirits at night. I find my own dichotomy here–a place to work while relaxing, space to read and think while putting my mind in neutral. I imagine what it must have been like for writers to gather in their favorite haunt for debate and creative inspiration. C. S. Lewis and the other Inklings met Tuesdays at midday at a local pub called “The Eagle and Child,” best known in the Oxford community as “The Bird and Baby,” or simply “The Bird.” When Hemingway stayed in Venice during the winter of 1949-1950, he spent much of his time at Harry’s Bar, where he had a table of his own and often drank with the owner himself.

Scripture Reading: John 20:11-18

Were you watching last night when Wisconsin upset undefeated Kentucky to advance to the finals on Monday night against Duke? It was an amazing game and when the horn sounded to end the game, a joyous celebration commenced. There was fanfare on the part of Wisconsin fans, and fan grief  for Kentucky faithful. Even if you knew nothing about basketball, you would have known that something really big had just taken place.

Somewhere along the way I was programmed to believe something similar should happen on Easter. This is a day of celebration and a great day for celebrating He is alive! Christians gather just like we are for sunrise services, eggs will be hunted, choirs will sing well rehearsed anthems, and preachers will be at their best.  Call it our own Christian fanfare. 

But for just a few moments, I’d like to take a step back from the pomp and circumstance and look closely at someone who experienced the first Easter  firsthand. I would like to see how she responded, thinking that my own response could and should be guided by hers.

There was a lot happening on that first Easter morning, especially for Mary Magdalene.  She arrived early and saw that the stone sealing Jesus’ burial place was moved.  She did what came natural–she ran to find Peter and John, pillars among the disciples–and told them what she had seen.

Mary had an ordinary conversation on the most extraordinary day in human history, or the history of the universe for that matter. 

Easter is not intended to be a once-a-year celebration. It is a hope that 

permeates the most common and ordinary experiences and moments of life.

About the time I start losing my internal debate as to whether or not there’s rhyme or reason to my current demands and immediate struggles, I’m rescued by a visit from grandchildren. Such was the case when our two-year-old Hannah B spent the evening with us. My assignment upon arriving home from a business trip was to distract Hannah, thereby allowing my wife to complete an embroidery project with a friend. Hannah and I took to the great outdoors hand-in-hand, and I watched with fascination as she reached down to examine every fallen leaf, place it in my hands, wait for me to ‘ooh and aah,’ then retrieve and gently return it to its previous spot on the grass. Hannah knows how to enjoy the moment, undisturbed by the past and unencumbered by anything future. In short order, my precious companion reminded me of the weightiest theology I’ve ever learned: “All moments are key moments, and life itself is grace” (Buechner). The clearest signal of transcendence is that this moment, in and of itself, matters enormously. Eternity begins right now. 

I am praying differently these days, not so much to know God’s will any longer but, instead, simply to recognize him in the commonplace. This moment perches precariously on a knife edge, animation suspended between memory and mystery. Lean too far behind and tumble into remorse, regret, reprise, repeat. Stretch too intensely toward tomorrow and drift into fog, fantasy, make believe.  Either behind or ahead is dysfunction. To live this breath in healthy tension with present attention, that is the divine mandate–nothing less than relentless intersection, perpetual incarnation. Created in the image of “I am”, “we are.” We abide best in our heavenly Father when we extoll his grace that benefits this breath, and when we embrace the exhilaration of not living in the wake of what we once were. Every day matters; our daily challenge is to recognize what matters most. To be completely honest, that has changed for me over the years. I’ve often wrestled with the inclination to lose sight of the value of this instant while straining to predict the next and strategize accordingly. What happened or didn’t happen yesterday pales in significance with what I do right now; life does count, and this very moment matters enormously. Mercy is at hand in abundance when I allow myself to detect the weight of glory in the mundane and ordinary. Grace is now and grace is here; grace is always present tense.

We live in light of Easter at all times. His living presence transforms this ordinary moment into one of extraordinary hope, if I am living close enough to the light to see it.

(From the Easter sunrise service in Bosqueville, Texas, 2015)

Scripture Reading: John 19:16-42

No doubt you’ve heard the phrase “familiarity breeds contempt.” While that may be true in some areas of life, I hesitate to apply it to biblical truth.  Instead, I would say that familiarity often breeds apathy.  Here’s what I mean: our very familiarity with the story of the cross may be the very thing that distances us from its impact.  We become, in the worst sense of the word, “objective.” There is grave danger in studying theology in third person.  We speak about God. We talk about things like incarnation, justification, atonement, redemption, sanctification, and we do it all from the comfortable distance of third person–He did this. He said that. He is prophet, priest and king.  “He.” But God orchestrated human redemption so that we may move from third person to first and second person–  “I” and. “You.” “I once was lost but now am found.” “You are Lord of heaven and earth.” “You are my savior and my God.”

We could speak intelligently and convincingly of Jesus Christ and his earthly ministry, compelling teaching, convincing miracles, his courageous response to scourging and triumphant declaration from the cross, “It is finished.” But what makes this whole thing matter is when I am able to say honestly and humbly:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind but now I see.

Grace is always cross-shaped and redemption is always particular. Not to detract from his general work of securing future grace since Christ died for the sins of the world, but, astonishingly, he offered himself up for my sin in particular. Although I will never choose to escape the responsibility and privilege of life enjoyed in community with family and friends, something deep within rouses to the thought of excusing myself from the company of others in order to relish and revel privately in the ecstasy of grace, unimaginable pardon for unforgivable sin. You may not hear it from my lips in word or harmony, but my soul breaks free in jubilant round, heralding my own strain of mercy inserted above the anthem of the redeemed.

The greatest deposit we make is surrendering ourselves to Christ. The greatest investment we make is in others.

“We must love one another or die.”  W. H. Auden’s assertion has now been proven.  Researchers tell us that emotional loneliness is as high a risk factor for mortality as smoking.  Tumors can metastasize faster in those who are lonely.   Loneliness causes or exacerbates Alzheimer’s, obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, and neurodegenerative diseases.

Mother Teresa once observed that “in the developing world there is an epidemic of poverty, in the West an epidemic of loneliness.”  In a 2010 survey, one out of three adults said they were “chronically lonely,” meaning that they’ve been lonely for an extended time.  A decade earlier, only one in five said that.

How is Maundy Thursday relevant to loneliness?

Today is known by a variety of names: “Maundy Thursday” (Church of England), “Holy Thursday” (Catholic and Methodist), “Covenant Thursday” (Coptic), “Great and Holy Thursday” (Eastern Orthodox), and “Thursday of Mysteries” (Syriac Orthodox).  If I were to give today another name, it would be “Communion Thursday.”

On this day in Holy Week, Jesus led his disciples in the Last Supper, a meal many traditions call “Communion.”  But our Lord extended communion beyond this event.  He prayed fervently for his disciples and all of us as well (John 17).  Then he retreated to the Garden of Gethsemane, where he told Peter, James and John, “Remain here, and watch with me” (Matthew 26:38).  On this day the Son of God knew how desperately he needed to be with his Father, and with his friends.

Shouldn’t every day be Communion Thursday for us?

__Dr. Jim Denison (Denison Forum on Truth and Culture)