Choices, we make many of them every day often without thinking. I hit Little Caesar’s and pick pepperoni over plain for five bucks. The world doesn’t shift on its axis. But sometimes what seems like a small choice can become huge. My wife and I hike. By hiking, I don’t mean a few laps around a city park for exercise. We’ve hiked up and down most of the mountains in the eastern United States, doing fifty-seven miles in our last vacation and nineteen miles in one day. We don’t talk much on hikes; nature is just too spectacular to miss by chit chatting. But never let the beauty of nature fool us. Nature doesn’t hold one drop of mercy. It demands respect on its own terms and can turn nasty very quickly if it doesn’t get it. Whether we’re climbing, kayaking or canoeing, fishing or hiking – we must play by nature’s rules and there’s no elastic in them at all. Even people experienced in the wilderness who swear on a stack of Bibles that everyone should go by all the procedures, protocols and cautions sometimes bend nature’s rules and pay for it.
Almost two thousand years ago, a guy named Matthew sat at his job not knowing that the end of the day would be different; one choice capped by a decision made in a second would change everything. Matthew collected taxes from his own people, the Jews, for the Romans. This earned him contempt and hatred from his people, disgrace and shame from his family. He did have money as the Romans didn’t care if he skimmed off a little something for himself as long as they got their cut. And his life was in peril every day. A group called the Zealots believed in and sought the violent overthrow of the Roman occupation. Assasinations of low-level traitors were quite common with the Romans looking the other way as long as the Jews killed off their own people. There were always more who would sell out.
How did Matthew get here? Choices. Had he been born into poverty? Poverty in childhood leaves huge marks, both good and bad. Did he see this as his only way out? Was he rebelling against Dad? People make some crazy choices to forcibly break away and tick Dad off in the process. How can I stick the old man? This would do it. Maybe he ran with a rebellious peer group, the cool guys who thumbed their nose at everyone and everything. Roman authorities all over the empire looked for these guys and knew how to play them. Choices, driven by self-centeredness and emotion, some seemingly small and made in an instant, can land us in strange places we never imagined.
What did Matthew have? I mean really? He had money. Money isn’t everything. It’s nice to have to pay for rehab, therapy and other mop-ups of the debris of poor choices. But the rest is just stuff. I know this is a tough sell to college students who accrue student loans and work extra jobs that hinder study time. At a student retreat, I sat picking the brains of a number of students as to what would be good to include for care packages sent to college students from our church. “Blank checks for next semester,” one fired back. Matthew probably had little self-respect. Every day, a stream of people stood in front of him with their eyes saying, “I have to pay you but I don’t have to respect you. You’re filth.” And deep down, Matthew must have felt the pangs of knowing the Romans owned him; he was a dancing bear for “The Man”. Knowing he really was a sellout oozed up through the pavement of all his rationalizations and denials. How about any sense of meaning and/or purpose? Was this it? All there ever would be? Even that wasn’t a big concern as Matthew’s life would not likely go on much longer. Paranoia had to be the cherry capping the sundae because somebody was out to get him.
Enter Jesus. Matthew had to have owned some prior knowledge of Him. Scads of anonymous people passed his door every day. Why jump and leave it all for this one? He certainly had heard things; Jesus had been busy. Miracles of extreme healing and casting out demons. Teaching that blew the socks off rabbinic scholars. Maybe he’d even laid eyes on Jesus from a distance. That might have been as close as Matthew ever thought he’d get. And that’s why Jesus standing in his doorway captured Matthew with two words, “Follow Me.” (v.9) The best spiritual teachers of the day didn’t walk up and down the street saying to complete strangers, “Hey, buddy, you want to study with me?” The students came to them and many were turned away. Now here stood…Him. Now Matthew had an offer to really think about, a choice worth a hard look.
Something important about choices – we can choose any road we want but we cannot choose where the road goes. Where did leaving the tax office take Matthew? He never could have imagined. “A greater story is being told, beyond the things you see and hold. The pictures turn in perfect time…” (from Hunter Brown and the Secret of the Shadow). He would heal the sick, cast out demons, hold a basket of leftovers from Jesus feeding over 5000 people with a kid’s lunch, see hurricane force wind smacked down with a word and see this one saying “Follow me” both crucified and risen from the dead. Jesus said, “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” (Matthew 7:13,14) I’m still learning what that choice to follow Jesus means for me so I don’t know what it might mean for you. But, just like with Matthew, He has shown us all enough so that nobody will be able to say they didn’t know (See Romans 1:19,20) And what do we have anyway really worth hanging onto and squatting in our stuff when Jesus stand on the threshold of our life and says “Follow me?”
If you think this might encourage a student or someone who loves them, then share, tweet, subscribe and all that social media stuff. And take a look at something on Facebook called Geezer 1. It’s a bunch of students, student ministry leaders, professors, administrators, artists, musicians, writers, broadcasters, booksellers, cultural thinkers and entrepreneurs, pastors, business people, theologians, a few campus rats and a Goth who think that Jesus Christ thinks that the university is a special place. You coming on board would only make us sharper.
See you next post at geezeronthequad.com
I watched a gang of incoming freshmen wandering campus sporting T-shirts, caps and backpacks with school logos and colors. They were doing the summer orientation thing. Freshman insecurity often makes us do two things. We posture being cool, with it and on top of things to our peers. And we gape at everything like we’ve stepped into Oz. We posture that we’re the Munchkins (We’ve got this place down.) and hope not too many notice that we feel like feel like Toto (This place could get us down.). By now the checks and online bank payments have cleared the bank and milk crates of stuff sit in the corner of suite rooms. In fact, we do belong to this place now. And now we get to figure out what daily life will look like in this place many of us will call home by Thanksgiving and/or Christmas break (This will drive a stake through the hearts of some parents.). See the picture at the right? This is Penn State University but it could be a lot of places. What’s going on? A “Ramen Noodles for Greater World Karma” rally? Free day old bread give away at Jimmy John’s? No, this is club day. Called Involvement Day, Bronco Bash, Welcome Expo – it’s a day when every group makes it’s pitch for new people and what groups they are! Yes, there’s French Club. But also we might see something like “The Harpoon Catchers Society”, “A Capella Ping Pong”, “Vegans for the Re-election of Millard Fillmore”, or the “Zombie Quilt Guild”. I’m not stretching much here. And there’s free stuff! Food (cookies, burgers, dogs), cup cozies, pads and pens, fridge magnets, African animals of all shapes and sizes and carnivorous plants – it’s all there. See the picture just below ? How surprised that guy will be to find an armadillo in that free backpack! Just kidding!
But mixed in with those other groups will be a bunch of Christian campus ministries. Their leaders have been busting their tails for this moment like the Blue Man Group on steroids. Along with showing presence with all the other student groups, they all know they fight a running battle against the four-week window. What’s that? Well, first of all, the four-week window is not how long semi done Ramen noodles can lay in a suite bathroom sink before they grow green fuzz long enough to put cornrows in. It’s not how long into the semester before the dorm cleaning crew runs screaming from the building and enters therapy at the university health center. The four-week window describes the idea that by the time students returning to campus have been there about a month, they will have settled on their personal involvements and time investments outside of class. New friendships will be jelling. Christian groups all want to be in on the ground floor of that – rightly so. And the ones who can really help this effort to reach new students are the returning students. You are the pros from Dover! (old movie remix – M*A*S*H) You know the ropes and remember how it was coming in. Most important, you know how much Jesus Christ changed your life that first year and what those friend have come to mean. So sign up, get out there asking interesting survey questions, shake hands and hand out free parrots.
And while we’re thinking about what will capture our time and who we will hang with, let’s not let the Atomic Monopoly Fellowship (although they’re great people) absorb all our discretionary time. Ditto for Facebook and gaming. Christians returning to campus already know about the Christian groups at their place. They are not hard to find. A quick look at the Blogroll on this blog will show many of them if we need help. Meanwhile some good advice from some old dogs like me. First, A.E. Housman –
“If you knew that there was One greater than yourself, Who knows you better than you can know yourself, and loves you better than you can love yourself, Who can make you all you ought to be, steadier than your squalid nature, able to save you from squandering your glorious life, Who searches you beyond the standards of earth…One Who gathered into Himself all great and good things and causes, blending into His beauty all the enduring color of life, Who could turn your dreams into visions, and make real the things you hoped were true, and if that One had ever done one unmistakable thing to prove, even at the price of blood – His own blood – that you could come to Him, and having failed, come again. Would you not fall at His feet with the treasure of your years, your powers, service and love? And is there not one such (Jesus), and does He not call you?
Next, Philips Brooks –
“The great hunger everywhere is for life. All things are reaching up towards it. All living things are craving an increase of it. Into this world comes Christ and announces Himself as that world’s Savior and satisfier, in virtue first of his bestowal of vitality…’I come to you here that you may live, that you may have life, and that you may have it more abundantly.’ So speaks Christ to the student. And with great trust and great hope and happy soberness (read intensity)…believing truth, rejoicing in duty, the student goes forward into ever-deepening life. Of such life, and of brave, earnest students entering into its fullness, may this new year…be full.”
And lastly, Henry Venn’s advice to sending his son, John, off to Oxford in 1777.
“Rise early. Shun idleness. Read the Bible with prayer. Take care that your bed be thoroughly dry and lay for the first night in your waistcoat, breeches and stockings. Don’t let spiritual immaturity make you arrogant or excessive. Be chaste, sober and humble. Keep a diary. Study standing up. And every other morning attend your mouth and clean it well with snuff, which I find of great service to my teeth.”
Doesn’t that just say it all? Could I possibly add anything to that?
If you think this might encourage college students or someone who loves them, then share, subscribe, Twitter and all that social media stuff. If this rings your bell, you might want to consider Geezer 1, the Facebook clubhouse forgeezeronthequad.com. It’s a funky mix and I mean that in the best possible. Adding your funk to the pile would only make us better. I also am open to any questions you have about the Christian faith and living it. Just shoot it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. No names required but I do reserve the right to ask clarifying questions to dignify your question with a decent answer.
Please return your seat to the upright position and give your infrared night vision goggles to the attendant as you exit to the rear. See you next post at geezeronthequad.com
I don’t know but…it’s crawling up your back!! Arghh, old bad joke – sorry. The real answer, framed in “Jeopardese” is, “The answer, Alex, is ‘what is the returning student population of Michigan State University?'” Maybe we’re a rookie or maybe an upperclass veteran. Maybe we’re inching our way up dorm stairs around somebody hauling a couch to the fourth floor. Or maybe we’re exploring that flush of freedom of the first off campus apartment even if it’s a hole that still has cave paintings from the last inhabitants. Maybe there’s even that eerie feeling of starting over as we begin grad school. Jesus Christ has two words for us. One is “Behold, I make all things new.” (Revelation 21:5) In context, Jesus merely talks about the renewal of the cosmos and not something big like the miraculous healing of our grade point average. But we need to take a breath amidst unpacking to savor…
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It was the sixties and we were students. Woodstock happened my sophomore year. The Vietnam War gobbled up all the flunked out college students who lost their student deferments as if they were popcorn. Drugs, sex and rebellion (often violent) made up the air much of a generation would breathe. Nobody looked for Jesus Christ to show up in the middle of all that. But that’s exactly when He shows up. The Jesus Movement bubbled up on campuses like spring mushrooms. Something weird came over a lot of us with no prompting or Bible beating from anyone; we stopped swearing. Profanity was rebellion; a lot of our music swore. Many college students celebrate the heady air of being away from home by swearing a lot. We couldn’t say a sentence without two or three F-bombs.
And then it stopped, just dropped away while we learned to love Jesus, did the Jesus stuff and plugged through school. We didn’t realize it until it had been gone for a while. Jesus said, “…his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart.” (Luke 6:45) Simply, what comes out of our mouth is what we are full of. We didnt decide to stop saying nasty words; we caught the Holy Spirit in the act of actually making us clean. The Bible calls this holiness. If forgiveness is all we think about when we think of Jesus’ work on the cross, we’re missing a lot. As the Holy Spirit indwells us, He brings an infusion of something called holiness. Holiness gets bad press. It doesn’t mean acting weird even pursuing it will set us apart from the crowd. It doesn’t mean giving up everything even though when we go after something hardcore, other things get laid aside – even things we might once have loved. (See Hebrews 12:1) Holiness describes the unique quality of the sinlessness of God. It’s not about God’s sinless performance or a possible inability on His part to sin (like sinlessness is part of His job description). It’s who He is at the core of His heart. But doesn’t the Bible say that “God is Love”? (I John 4:8) Yes, but it also says, “…holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts.” (Isaiah 6:3) Think of a brilliance greater than a thousand suns, a beauty eclipsing the Royal Botanical Gardens of Canada (see picture), an expansive greatness that could drop the Grand Canyon into a thimble and a power thundering over a hundred Niagaras. Without being crass or blasphemous, imagine a huge York peppermint patty stuffed into our spirit. Now think of all that loose and roaming free inside us. Taste it once and all the appetites for anything else that might promise deep and/or ultimate satisfactions wither away.
Holiness also encompasses the removal of the filth of shame. God does not inflict shame: He is the lifter of my head (Psalm 3:3). Guilt and shame aren’t the same thing. Shame coats everything we are with a vulgar film tainting everything we long for or hold dear. Nothing in time and space removes it – not counselling and medication, not self-help tinkering or the self-deception of alternative spiritualities. Not only does it stick, it eats. It paralyzes and defines us, even under the shallow cover of appearing to have it all together. Shame accuses; it’s the tool of choice in the evil one’s bag. will bWe’re worthless and we always will be. No one will love us because we’re not worth it. Nothing we dream of will ever happen because we’re losers. When Jesus enters our lives, He blasts this crud off the walls of our soul and relines our inner being with the beauty of His holiness. It’s terribly important to know the ring of the voice of God here. In Psalm 51:8, David says, “…let the bones that you have broken rejoice.”
Ever had a broken bone? No doubt about where the trouble is, right? The pain is specific and we do whatever it takes to get things right. Remember the last time we had the flu? Ached all over but nowhere in particular, right? When the Holy Spirit speaks into our lives, He comes with great precision speaking pointedly into our lives and moving us to concrete action of whatever it takes to put things right with God and others. Nobody suffers a compound leg fracture to say, “It’s not a good time to rush to the ER. It can wait till the weekend.” Shame makes us ache in spirit: we hurt everywhere over nothing in particular. The evil one peppers us with accusations, misplace guilt feelings over pain inflicted on us by others, false guilt over things not our fault at all and over sin God has already forgiven. We’re left deflated and paralyzed to wallow in our own ooze. And we do.
We’ve seen the guy with the brand new car parking across two or three parking spaces so no one can get close enough to scratch or dent his new baby. Keeping the beauty and sheen of this cleanness of God’s holiness stands as one of the best motivations to follow and love Jesus well instead of spewing our self-centeredness all over what Jesus Christ has done. When that happens we feel that corrosive stain we sadly know so well begin again to spread and must come back to Jesus Christ for a hosing down of mercy and grace. On the outside, I want to take what Jesus Christ did in me and get it covered with dirt, dents and dings from taking it full-bore into the world He died for. As He held nothing back for me, I want to run right up to my last breath with the pedal to the floor and the wheels ready to fall off. But the inside I want to keep His holy cleanness as pristine as possible as only then can all this beauty that Jesus can work in a life breathe into the fibers of my bone and spirit.
Got a question about the Christian life? I do. Feel free to send it along to email@example.com. No names required. I reserve the right to ask clarifying questions so I can dignify your question with a better answer.
If you think this might encourage a student or someone who loves students, then share, subscribe, Twitter and all that social media stuff. You might be interested in Geezer 1, the Facebook clubhouse for geezeronthequad.com. It’s a mix of students, student ministry leaders, professors, administrators, artists, writers, musicians, artisans, composers, business people, booksellers, broadcasters, pastors, theologians, cultural thinkers and entrepreneurs and a few campus rats and a Goth who think that Jesus Christ thinks the university is a special place. Take a look and see.
Please return your seat to the upright position and give the infrared night vision goggles to the attendant as you exit to the rear. See you next post at geezeronthequad.com.
We need to belong. It pulsates deep beneath the daily stuff and drives us a lot more than we know. I sat in a college speech class listening to a girl hotly slice and dice the Greek system on campus. I felt a nudge from the next row. Dom was usually asleep so this sign of life surprised me. “She didn’t get chosen by any of the sororities.” The next semester, she made a pledge class and all the cruel insensitive injustices laid on in that speech evaporated. Belonging. We can wind up in strange places, embarrassing ourselves and violating our deepest values in search of belonging.
Remember playground games? Everybody finds out what they’re worth right out there in front of everybody. The leaders start choosing up sides. The second ones picked immediately become the scout advising the leader who to go for until almost everyone is gone. I don’t know who gets the worst rap. The last person doesn’t get chosen at all; they just slump over to join a group that doesn’t want them. There’s just no one else left. But the next-to-last person get taken only because they don’t want the last guy. Being chosen ascribes value; makes us grow an inch. I’m not adopted but have known quite a few people who were. Yes, I get the quest to eventually find out who this person was that gave us up for adoption. But there’s more. Even though somebody appeared to give us away, somebody else wanted us badly enough to go to a lot of trouble to pull it off. Mountains of paperwork and legal hoops. Money (adoption fees, legal expense and, in some cases, bribes). Background checks. Overseas travel. Huge shift of life routine and direction. All done gladly because somebody wants us.
Knowing Jesus Christ births powerful things in our deep places. “…you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!'” (Romans 8:15) “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” (I John 3:1). The “we” in I John gets special emphasis here. Who gets to be chosen to be children of God? People like us! Messed up, wounded, stuck on ourselves, responsible for serious pain in others lives and our own, not really caring about what God thinks – you know, US. We are far more likely to be a hot mess than a hot commodity. John wrote this in amazement and we should read it the same way. What makes us such a prize? What makes us the first pick? This may take a minute or two. If the list looks pretty short and negotiable, we’re standing on the edge of mercy and grace.
In Genesis 3, Adam and Eve have taken the big bite and are now hiding in the buff in the bushes. This is no cutesy kid’s fable to fill in the gap until science figures out what really happened. Even though He already knows exactly where they are and why, God comes looking for them. Knowing their blatant sin, God could have turned the Garden of Eden onto a landfill and walked away. How about that gang known as the prophets? Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Ezekiel and all those others all rolled together at the end of the Old Testament – what a fun crew! God didn’t send this jolly bunch to condemn Israel. If He wanted to do that, all He had to do was to leave them alone.
Then He came down to us Himself. And not in the form of some pompous jerk wanting everyone to line up to kiss His pinky ring. God was in Jesus Who told stories (in Luke 15) about how one lost sheep is worth leaving ninety-nine to find, how one lost coin is worth ransacking a house for, how one rebellious and self-centered child is worth waiting for with love and a hug as long as it takes. Jesus also extended great and generous invitations. “…if anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” (John 7:37-38) And He freely paid the adoption fees and costs which were pretty steep; it took everything He had. He gave till it hurt and more. “…you were ransomed, …not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ…” (I Peter 1:18-19)
God adopts children from His enemies, people like us who blow Him off, mess Him over without a care and tell Him to butt out of our lives and to go jump off a bridge. While these words may never cross our lips, they echo and bounce around inside our hearts like a super ball in a tile bathroom. Knowing that, He still chases us down. And, when our plunges back into darkness confuse us that God speaks only when we’re talking, He chases us down again. And God is exceedingly generous with His children. My grandchildren love to go shopping with my son-in-law. you just never know what may end up in the cart or what unplanned stops the car might make. They’re never disappointed. Without spoiling them, God loves to give to His children in ways like we’ve never seen giving before. “He who did not spare His own son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things.” (Romans 8:32) When I was thirteen, I wanted a bass violin. I know that’s not every thirteen year old’s dream but jazz had captured me. Musicians will understand. My Dad said he didn’t have the money to buy one but he would let me go earn the money. So I went out, got my first job and took away much more than a bass violin. The gifts God gives His kids have so much more than what we ask for packed into them.
Do we want to be wanted? Do we want to belong? Do we want to be loved? Do we want these badly enough to stop running away and hiding from Someone who wants us so badly that He’s paid whatever it cost and won’t quit coming after us no matter how obnoxious we can make ourselves? Do we want to stop running from Jesus Christ and His cross?
Do you have questions about the Christian faith? After forty-six years, I still do. I’m open to any question you have, anytime. Just email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. You don’t have to include your name. I reserve the right to ask a clarifying question or two if needed so I can dignify your question with a good answer.
If you think this might encourage a college student or someone who loves them, then share, subscribe, tweet and all that social media stuff. Take a look at Geezer 1, the Facebook clubhouse for geezeronthequad.com. It’s a mix of students, student ministry leaders, professors, administrators, musicians, composers, writers, artists, pastors, theologians, business people, booksellers, broadcasters, artisans, cultural thinkers and entrepreneurs, a few campus rats and a Goth who think that Jesus Christ thinks that the university is a special place.
See you next post at geezeronthequad.com.
Sam, a friend, had life nailed. Getting a late start on college, he blasted through everything finishing with a high GPA and a smooth move into a career he loved. One day a single complaint brought police detectives to his home where they found questionable pictures in his computer. His name splashed across the front page of the newspaper, his mug shot as well. He did time and tried to make the best of it. On a visit, Sam showed me the homemade Monopoly set he and other inmates made. He wore a cross made from a mop strand. One night, the other men in the cell with him found out why Sam was there and beat him up. Upon getting out, his dream job would be gone forever, his education largely trashed. He could never own a computer or any device with online capability. Nor could he live within certain distances from schools or other buildings where children might be. He would be subject to inspections without notice. Any attempt to find a job would inevitably arrive at the application question, “Have you ever been convicted of a criminal offense?” Background checks would confirm that. Sam will walk through, breathe the air of and live in this terrain the rest of his life. Ten seconds in a computer will lay bare a life no one might suspect on the outside.
Stuff follows us like ghosts and shadows. We hear about people losing jobs in colleges because years before, they lied about degrees they’d said they’d earned. We might say and think we’re moving on but stuff lingers and resurfaces – often at bad times and in bad ways. These things don’t include the junk other people dump into us from their mess (read “sin”) that turn our souls into landfills. I mean things we work hard to shut up, sit on and squelch that we’ve done to ourselves, other people and, more importantly, to God. Things we cringe and wince at when they pop up unbidden even after years. Conscience used to be our guide but now our compass has a bent needle. Culture and society find the whole idea of anything being sin to be a nasty inconvenience except for the sin of not getting our way.
Because of what Jesus Christ did on the cross, Paul wrote, “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 5:1) Justified – it’s a legal word meaning not only to be declared to be not guilty, but that the record of our offenses has been wiped clean. When Jesus Christ steps into our lives and makes the call as to who and what we will be, we walk through the story He writes without ghosts or shadows stalking us. That’s huge. It’s very difficult to expunge criminal records. Decades can pass but they lurk in a computer somewhere.
But the peace in Romans 5:1 isn’t a license to skate or blow off the damage to others as if nothing’s happened, nothing to revisit. My phone rang and a stranger in a local motel wanted to talk. He’d spent a lot of years ignoring and hurting his family. Now Jesus Christ ran the things of his life and he’d come back to apologize and reconcile. What about the things we’ve racked up in the memories of people we’ve hurt? What about the pain we’ve inflicted on the heart of God? If God kept score and held grudges, who could stand? Peace with God because Jesus died in our place on the cross frees us to make peace with others both for their sakes and our own.
We can also make peace with ourselves. Since through the cross of Christ, the penalty for our sin is paid and the record of our sin wiped clean, we don’t hide from ourselves or anyone else. Someone attempted to blackmail the great preacher C.H. Spurgeon, threatening to end his ministry. He said, “Take everything you know and write it across the skies. Jesus knows it all and has paid in full.” A professor wrote up his Christian story to be included with others in a book. The editor came to him and said, “Professor Jones (not his real name), are you sure you want to write it this way?” The editor thought the prof might regret later that he’d revealed so much of himself. The prof took back his copy and revised it being even more explicit than the first draft had been. His record was clean and so he was free to tell his story to draw others to Christ.
One person (Hearts and Minds Books – 20% off if you say you saw it here.) wrote, “Guarding tombs is a joyless job, as anyone who has sought to keep the past from the future can attest…Is shame standing watch over any dead things in your life?…[Stop] guarding that tomb. Let an earthquake or an angel roll away the stone so that you can see that nothing is there anymore. Jesus conquered it. Jesus removed it. All that remains is light and hope.”
Maybe you have a question about God or the Christian faith. I do. If you’d like to throw yours out there, send it to email@example.com. You don’t even have to give your name. I do reserve the right to ask clarifying questions so I can dignify your question with a respectable answer.
If you think something here might encourage a student or someone who loves students, then subscribe, share, Twitter and all those social media things. If you already subscribe, maybe you need to check out Geezer 1, the Facebook clubhouse for geezeronthequad.com. It’s a mix of students, student ministry leaders, professors, administrators, pastors, artists, writers, musicians, composers, business people, broadcasters, booksellers, theologians, artisans, cultural thinkers and entrepreneurs, a few campus rats and a Goth who think that Jesus Christ thinks that the university is a special place. Take a look. It’s a sharp bunch and you will only make us better.
Please return your seat to the upright position and give your infrared night vision goggles to the attendant as you exit to the rear. See you next post at geezeronthequad.com
‘Tis the season..,
Graves don’t attract most people. And most people aren’t attracted to people who are attracted to graves. Maybe that’s why my Facebook friend total is a little low. Graves (and the things that happen around them.) do fascinate me; I used to dig and fill them in. Gravediggers see things differently. I remember loving the job.
People go to a lot of trouble to impress others even after they’re dead. I always shook my head at the small private family mausoleums with outrageous extras (some play music, a little creepy at night). These were supposed to make people stop for at a few seconds, impressed that somebody important lay there. Cars whizzing by never seemed to notice. On a day our casket winch was broken, we buried a man in a casket of solid bronze. He almost took all of us down into the hole with him. Impressed? Let’s just…
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