Catch More Fish

I love random, unusual moments.  So imagine my surprise when a random fishing moment came my way in Old Saybrook, Connecticut.   My friend, Arabella, and I were there for a conference but had arrived early enough to have some free time.  After lunch we decided to walk along the waterfront and fill our nostrils with the smell of salt water.  Apparently, it was a great day for fishing.  The dock was filled with fishermen, all of whom seemed to be having great success.  Nice, big, blue fish were being pulled from the water like clockwork.  Arabella and I stood watching for a few minutes.  It wasn't long before Arabella, in her lovely southern way, began chatting away with one of these young fishermen.  He told us that the temperature of the water was perfect this day.  The water was 68 degrees and filled with fish.  2 degrees higher and the fish would be elsewhere. 

"Want to reel one in?" he asked us.  I was the one who was quick to respond.  "Sure," I said.  I asked him how we'd know when a fish was on.  He pointed to the top of his fishing pole.  "You'll see this pole nearly bend in half when a fish is hooked."  Sure enough, two minutes later we saw the pole bend under the weight of its catch. I grabbed the rod and began to reel it in.  Never having caught a big fish before I was a little surprised at the aerobic workout I was instantly getting.  Arabella must have seen the beads of sweat I was starting to produce because she was right there to help.  She supported the rod so I could just focus on reeling.  When the fish got close enough to shore the fisherman grabbed his net, climbed over the chain link fence, and netted it.  A few seconds later I was holding a pretty nice catch of the day.

Now, believe me when I say I fully see the humor in this picture.  It's quite apparent I wasn't intending to go on a fishing expedition.  But maybe that was what was so fun about the whole thing.  It truly was one of the those random moments.  After washing fish residue off my hands I thanked the fisherman and got ready to leave.  I was told the fish was mine to keep, but not being prepared to cook up fish that night, I opted for catch and release.  The fish went back to the water and Arabella and I went off to our evening class.

Later that night as I laid in bed, the Lord began to speak to my heart.  He indicated that He wanted to talk about fishing.  He began to show me that my random fishing moment was a picture of something bigger.  In essence, it was a modern parable.  He retook me through the whole experience, but this time He showed me several principles for fishing for men. 

They were:
 Put your hand in the hand of Jesus.  This is the foundation of good fishing.  If we remain in Him and remain attentive, He will show us the fish.
~ The Lord brought back to mind my parting handshake given to the fisherman.  For some reason my left hand extended making a handshake impossible.  Instead my hand was clasped inside his for a brief second.  The Lord showed me that is exactly what He wants of us in relationship to Him.  He wants our hand to be squarely planted in His.  In other words, He wants us to be intimately connected with Him, able to listen to His voice.

 Lay aside differences and work in unity.  The church is to work in unity to bring the harvest in.  It will take all kinds of people and all kinds of giftings to get the job done.
~ I thought back to the four of us who helped bring in this fish.  Our differences were quite stark, the most obvious being that two of us were not dressed for fishing!  But for several minutes we didn't focus on our differences, rather we worked in perfect unity for a specific purpose...bringing a fish to shore. Which brings me to the next point...

Focus on the objective.  We lay aside our differences for the purpose of focusing on the objective, bringing in the harvest that He shows us.
~ The four of us worked well together not because we thought alike or came from the same background or shared the same political views.  We worked well because we all focused on the same objective-Let's get this fish ashore.

Know the temperature of the water.  Jesus is the one who truly knows when the harvest is ready, but if we stay close to Him, He will show us when the temperature of someone's heart is ready for harvest.  It is only by being in close communication with Him that we'll know the signs of a harvest being ready.  A good fisherman knows when the fish are there and are ready to come in.
~ The fisherman on the dock that day knew the water temperature.  They knew the fish would be there in abundance and they were prepared.

Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty.  We may be called into some uncomfortable moments in bringing others from darkness into the light.  Can we be willing to get some dirt on our hands to bring people out of darkness?  Can we be willing to make ourselves vulnerable and be made uncomfortable at times?
~ It was with great pride that I held up this fish for a photo.  Only after throwing it back in did I realize how dirty my hands had become.  The Lord showed me that it was a good dirt.  The dirty hands were worth it when seeing that fish ashore.  Likewise, helping people come out of darkness is worth any good dirt that it causes.

All are called to fish.   I used to think that the work of fishing for men was strictly for the evangelists.  Apparently it's not.  The Lord showed me that He has called all of His church to be fishers of men.  Each one of us can be involved in the process one way or another.  You may be an intercessor who prays faithfully for people, or you may be one who plants seeds.  You may be the person who encourages the people with evangelism gifts, or you may be the person who helps bring healing or discipleship into a new believer's life.  Fishing for men encompasses a whole lot.
~ I thought back to how many steps there were in bringing that one blue fish to shore.  One person had to put the right bait on the line.  Someone then placed that line in the water.  One person watched for the rod to bend.  Someone then grabbed the rod and began to reel.  Another person helped steady and hold the rod.   While someone hopped the fence to net the fish, someone else was keeping a close eye on his buddy ensuring he wouldn't fall in.  All in all, several steps occurred to catch that fish.

Now I'm back home from my weekend in Old Saybrook.  I have no fish in my freezer but just a fish tale to tell.  I threw my fish back to the water and now I throw my fish tale out there to you with an invitation.  Will you fish for men?  Will you do the work that God has for you to do to help bring in the harvest.  I think we if work together in unity, with our hands in the Father's, we may just find that we truly catch more fish!

Words From the Cross

     With Easter a mere two weeks away, I find myself pondering the cross and its meaning to our lives.  Particularly, I have been thinking about some of Christ's words from the cross.  "It is finished," or "It is done," as The Message puts it, is the line that has struck me the most.  In pondering this, there were two pictures that came to mind.  This first picture is of an adder about to consume a very unaware robin.  It makes me wonder if this was how Satan felt when Jesus hung on the cross moments before his death.  Did Satan think he was going to be victor?  One thing is for certain, this picture represents us before Christ's atoning death.  Before Christ's words "It is finished," we all stood like robins subject to the adder's bite.  But fortunately this picture wasn't the end of the story.  When Christ said "It is done," he turned this picture on its head.  Actually, he reversed it.  When Jesus said "It is done," the bird essentially turned and crushed the serpent's head.  This brings us to the second picture.

     Above is a picture I just painted expressing this concept.  I call it The Power of the Cross.  Jesus' words from the cross were not just mere words, they were power filled.  There is power in the cross.  There is a done, a doing, and another done to be found in the cross.  "It is done," meant redemption has been accomplished.  The road to God was made accessible; sins can now be forgiven; the debt has been satisfied.  This is the first 'done.'  

     But it doesn't end there.  I'm reminded of a scene from The Return of the King movie where Pippin and Gandolf stand in the fortress as Gondor is being attacked.  Pippin looks up into Gandolf's face and says "I didn't think it would end this way."  Gandolf  looks down at a nervous Pippin and says "End?  No the journey doesn't end here.  Death is just another path, one that we all must take.  Then you see it."

     "See what?" asks Pippin.

     "Grey rain curtains of this world roll back, all turns to silver glass, white shores and beyond a far green country and a swift sunrise.  Doesn't sound too bad," Gandolf replies.

     "No, it doesn't."

     In a sense this is true of the cross as well.  The purpose of redemption was accomplished, but that wasn't the end of the story.  One chapter ended but another began.  Christ released the power of the cross in his words "It is Done."  Through his obedience he reversed the picture of the adder and the bird.  The dove descended and crushed the serpent's head.  And now he invites us to do the same.  He has made it possible for us to also release the power of the cross.
     The cross is a beautiful picture of an intersection.  It is a picture of what happens when evil intersects with holiness.  Or maybe it's a collision of the two.  When that collision happens the dove is released to crush the serpent's head.   That's 'the doing' of the cross to which we are invited to participate in.  We release this dove, this power, when addictions are confessed and broken, when another person is brought into the kingdom, when sins are repented of, and when another broken person is brought to wholeness.  This is 'the doing' of the cross.  It is ongoing.  The persecuted church lives this reality daily.  Evil collides with their righteousness on a regular basis and they have to make a choice.  Do they respond in their human strength or do they release the power of the cross.  Most often they choose the latter and the dove comes and a little more darkness gets swallowed by the light.

      This process goes on till the final done.  The final done is Christ's return when 'It is finished' will mean something different.  It will mean the evil, the suffering, the curse is done. Its time of existence is over--finished.  Till then we live between the first and second done.  His kingdom came after the first done but will culminate in its fullness with the second one.  Satan was stripped of his authority on earth with the first done but will be extinguished with the second one.  Till then we crush his head repeatedly, releasing the cross' power, understanding that when we do the light pierces another piece of the darkness.  We continue this process of bringing in the light of Christ's presence till he returns and all the darkness is swallowed up completely.
     In the process of painting this picture, I wanted to show the collision of evil and holiness by painting the top of the cross, above the horizontal beam, all white and gold to represent glory and holiness.  Below this beam is black paint, thick and chunky in texture, it represents the evil that intersects with God's righteousness.  It is in this collision that the dove swoops down into the darkness bringing its light and glory with it.  The bird crushes the snake, holiness collides with evil, and the chains of death get broken, throwing open the gates of heaven to all who believe.
     So as I ponder the cross this Easter, I stand with Gandolf in waiting for the final day when the grey rain curtains of this world roll back, longing for the white shores and green country.  Yet, I do this longing not without hope because the dove continues to swoop down and push back the darkness, inviting us to live in this power, in this hope, as we continue to live between the first done and the second one, waiting for the white shores and green country when evil will be banished forever.

Upstairs and Downstairs: A Look at Downton Abbey.

     If you're a Downton Abbey addict then the above title needs no further explanation.  But to those of you who aren't, here's the simple explanation.  In an estate such as Downton, the aristocracy live upstairs; the servants live downstairs.
     Downton Abbey, now in its third season, has given us an up close look at the world of nobility and those who serve them.  But in this third season the future of the estate has been threatened by a financial pitfall.  Amidst the ever mounting drama one night, an interesting comment caused me pause.  Someone remarked that the loss of the estate might not be such a bad thing, for isn't it just a life of pageantry?  And what's so bad about that ending?
     Now maybe it's just me but good writing always takes my mind to 101 places.  In this case I instantly thought of the church and my own spiritual journey from above the stairs to beneath them.  Yes, you heard me right, upstairs to down.
     For many years I felt like church was pageantry of a spiritual kind.  It was the place where people came dressed in their finery and paraded their good deeds.  The Noble words of Christendom were dropped like a symbol of spiritual arrival.  Everyone came to church ready to be seated at the right hand of the Father.
      Of course I knew it was pageantry.  As the facts of people's lives dribbled out, as they always do, I came to know that underneath the three piece suits and freshly pressed dresses were sinners of the regular kind, and some not so regular, committing all the sins the Old Testament will take you through.
     Now, I'm not writing this to say that dressing up for church is right or wrong but rather that sheer pageantry is.  Church pageantry is focused on doing externals in one's own strength.  It is appearing to be outwardly clean while carrying a dirty heart.  It's like Lady Mary moving a dead body in the middle of the night and then showing up at the breakfast table in her finest.  It is doing good deeds for the sake of appearance while hating one's neighbor.  It is doing the work of the spirit without being connected to the power of it.  This takes us to being downstairs.
     If you are downstairs, then you are a servant.  First and foremost, it means that you know your place.  For us to live a life empty of pageantry, we must know our place before the Father.  Anyone who has traveled the road to Christendom, knows that if you truly are one of the Father's children, then you will come to a place of shedding the fancy airs, and make yourself comfortable in the on-your-face position before Him.  He loves it when we move "downstairs."  Once we know our place, He has us exactly where He wants us.  Then comes education.
     The footmen at Downton have shown us there is a learning curve, even in servitude.  "That's what you get for teaching him to run before he could walk." Thomas remarks about a new footman in his typical snarky way.  And truthfully, we do have a lot to learn.  But until we know our place, the pride we hold keeps us out of the classroom.
     In the opening credits of the show we see a wall which rings the various bells to alert the staff as to what is needed.  It's one means of communication between the Master of the house and the servants beneath.  Listening to God is certainly a learned discipline.  It is a discipline we will never learn if we remain upstairs in pretentious pageantry.  It's something we'll never learn as long as we keep shifting "dead bodies" around in secret.  But, if we come downstairs we will learn the "various callings" of the Father.  We'll learn when He is prompting our hearts to action and when He is speaking.  A good servant will respond in action.  We begin by walking and over time become able to discern better and eventually run.
     So in the end, we can say that a good servant knows his place, listens to his Master, and obeys his instructions.  Isn't that what God calls of all His people?  It seems that He is looking for us to be downstairs people.  Is that so bad?  In the end we even find ourselves seated at the finest feast of all...
     Imagine that, a feast for the downstairs people, given by the Master of the house (Or in this case, the universe.)
    "Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him the glory!  For the wedding of the Lamb has come..."
"Then the angel said to me, "Write: 'Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!'  And he added, "these are the true words of God." Revelation 19:7a and 9.

The People that in Darkness Sat: From Advent to Epiphany

     I like the season of Advent.  I appreciate that the church year makes room for our seasons of sadness, doubt, fear and grief.  The church years allows us times to lament and actually encourages us to do so.
     The People that in Darkness Sat is one of my favorite Advent hymns.  It's especially meaningful when you  understand that darkness is just the absence of light.  But behold a light has come.   Matthew 4:16 says "The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the Shadow of death a light has dawned."
     Today we can still relate to the words of this great hymn.  For we too sit in darkness.  We experience the  darkness of the spirit of the age wherein we live.  We experience the weight of continuing to live under a curse.  All this causes us to need times like Advent to reflect and ponder.
     This year I came to Advent with a heaviness of heart.  Certain family members were struggling with serious health issues which weighed heavily on me.  In pouring through the incoming Christmas letters I was further saddened to see a theme this past year in the loss of babies.  A number of stillborn and miscarriages occurred in several friend's lives.
     But once again the Bible understands this pain and the ongoing grief.  This too was even a piece of the Christmas story.  Matthew 2:18  "A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted because they are no more."
     The Christmas story allows us to enter into it with hearts that have been broken or are currently aching with grief.  This Christmas story offers us hope because we still need it.  We desperately need that light which came so many years ago.  And we continue to long for the fulfillment of the promise that one day that very light will eradicate the darkness completely.
     Isaiah 60:1 "Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you."  This is the passage we read on Epiphany.  We are called to let this light fill us and thus shine in the darkness.  And from scripture we see that we can do this even in the midst of our own trials and grief.
     Without the light we are sunk.  We are left with darkness and the holly jolly, consumerist bustle of the season which never satisfies.  The cookies, festivities, and the songs about sleigh rides and snow leave us unable to pull ourselves out of the mire.  We truly cannot make ourselves merry, only a light piercing through the darkness can do that.