Category: regret

I’m More or Less Oblivious

Inspector Clouseau, (Upon discovering stolen artifacts) in The Pink Panther 2

“Ah yes, the Shroud of Turin! We will have to dry clean it before we return it.”

______________________

I honestly think that our bumbling attempts to follow Jesus are entertaining angels who watch our efforts and shake their heads in astonishment. “Did you see what Bryan just did?”

I’m the “Inspector Clouseau” of the spiritual realm.   😁  

Maybe you can relate?

Clumsy and very much oblivious, I bungle my way down the path of discipleship, without a clue. It seems when something right happens, I still end up butchering it. The Holy Spirit has His hands full. Scripture tells me He has no regrets.

We have experienced so much, and been given so much light.

And yet we consistently choose to trade it for a lie. For the most part, I don’t sin automatically, I sometimes choose it deliberately.  People don’t sin because they feel they have to. We sin because we like the pleasure it brings. We sin because it feels nice. It’s often a mask to cover the pain.

It’s a patch for the pain of my twisted up life.

We sin because it brings a thrill to our bodies, and excitement to the boredom of our everyday lives.  We sin because we believe the lie that the pleasure it brings, though passing (Heb. 11:25).

Sin happens when I look at anything or anyone other than God.

The issues I have are both spiritual and medical.  I survived a brain tumor and I need to walk with a cane. I have constant vertigo. My right arm is paralyzed. I struggle hard sometimes. I have some struggles with social anxiety. But God gives me buckets of His grace.  I know first-hand his agape love for me.

But He will not bless my disobedience and rebellion. 

When we announce to the world that “Jesus is Lord” we can expect God will hold our feet to the fire over this.  The Holy Spirit will not negotiate when we suddenly decide we are hungry for sin.  Apprehended by grace, we must fully surrender all claims we have to sample sin’s delights.

Who do we find joy in? It really does matter.

In the middle of my battles to be a believer, I must remember joy.  I cannot imagine being without it.  I’ve been clinically depressed pushed to the point of suicide.  But God gives me joy in my darkness.

“The joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Nehemiah 8:10

“For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation.”

Psalm 149:4

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Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son

Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son
Rembrandt, “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” c. 1661

17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ 20 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. 21 And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. 23 And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. 24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.

Luke 15:17-24, ESV

Two hundred and eighty-nine words– these describe the life of every man, woman, and child who has ever lived. These 289 words reveal to us a God who loves far too much, way too easy. Perhaps we sort of expect that he will ‘appropriately’ punish his son– at least put him on probation at least. It only makes sense. But we find that is legalism talking.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” 

Many of us have lived as prodigals, and we have spent our inheritance like ‘drunken sailors.’ We really have nothing at all to show for it. The prodigal, completely destitute, takes the only work he can find. (Imagine a good Jewish boy feeding hogs.)

He is so far gone that he starts inspecting the filthy slop buckets for something to eat.

Many of us will understand his despair. Often there comes to us a crystalline moment of simple awareness. The prodigal, sin-crusted and impoverished, still has a lingering memory of the Father’s house.

The servants there had far more than him right now. Sometimes I wonder if in our captivity, we instinctively want to go home, if only in our minds, to be a servant there.

The Father has dreamed of this precise moment.

The parable says, “He saw him–felt compassion–ran out to him–embraced him–and kissed him.” The Father is a whirlwind of agape love. I’ve read the Parable of the Prodigal Son a hundred times or more. It never loses its punch. I simply want to bring some observations: 

  • We see that his father receives him with a tender gesture. His hands seem to suggest mothering and fathering at once; the left appears larger and more masculine, set on the son’s shoulder, while the right is softer and more receptive in gesture.
  • The son’s head is downy, almost like a newborn’s. We must enter the kingdom like little children. 
  • The Prodigal Son seems to be protected by his father. He snuggles near the Father’s breast. It’s love that holds him there.
  • Consider his sandals. It has taken a long time for him to come home. 
  • Standing at the right is the prodigal son’s older brother, who crosses his hands in stoic judgment; we read in the parable that he objects to the father’s compassion for his brother.
  • We see his mother in the background in the painting, and a seated steward or counselor. One stands in profound joy, the other in sits in stunned perplexity.

But Rembrandt had painted the Prodigal once before, when he was considerably younger. And it is a very good painting. The prodigal is happy and gay; there is absolutely no indication of the consequences of sin.

The Prodigal Son in the Brothel, 1635

He’s a charming young man at the height of his popularity, and we see him at a happy party. He is spending the inheritance of his father.

But Rembrandt chooses at the very end of his life to re-paint it to reflect reality.

This is one of the last paintings he will do, and it is the Prodigal Son–destitute and repenting. I can only imagine; the years have taken a toll and he doesn’t really feel his first painting is enough. He wants to paint what is true.

He now is painting our spiritual condition.

We are given a work that some critics call as the greatest painting ever completed. The painting is now in St. Petersburg, Russia. It is seldom seen by visitors. It is a clear echo of the grace of God for fallen men and women. Like the father in the painting, He’s ready to forgive every sin saturated son and daughter.

The Father’s Prodigal

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Hiding Our Wounds

Brennan Manning Quote
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house.”

Matthew 5:14-15, ESV

Overall, I think this Manning quote is a great observation. We, the torn and wounded, often try to hide, secluding ourselves in the “Island of Misfit Toys.” (Got to love those 60s Christmas cartoons.) We pretty much accept our lot as damaged merchandise.

Maybe we choose to isolate ourselves more than we want to admit. Could that be what we do? Are we still embarrassed and ashamed by all that we’ve done? That’s quite possible.

This may come as a shock, but the Church doesn’t need any more gifted people.

But it does need broken people who understand ‘the giftedness of the flawed.” When we conceal, we diminish the Church by our absence. We can ostracize ourselves, through a self imposed shame— but the Church will suffer. We need to show them that everyone can be healed, even screwy ‘fruit-cakes’ like us.

I recently had the privilege of speaking to a class of young Bible college students.

My subject was decidedly not on being successful, but on being a failure. Whole courses are geared toward ministerial success– but where are the ones for failure? I think that it just might be even more important, in the long run.

No human effort is going to erase your past.

I have tried and it can’t be done. I have blitzed my brains on drugs and booze, but I still remember the people I’ve hurt. (And I pray for them.) There really isn’t a cure for the evil we have done. I believe in forgiveness. And I hold to the idea that are sins are never to be a subject of  guilty accusation–

“He will again have compassion on us;
    he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
    into the depths of the sea.”

Micah 7:19

Our dark iniquity is put in a very deep place. But there are the memories of an unkind word, or a sad and dark foolishness that we must learn to live with. There will be many regrets, and we face the terrible consequences of our sins, but it’s enough to know that all is under the blood of Jesus.

We are indeed forgiven. Completely.

We are now to live as forgiven sinners, yet precious in God’s eyes. We discover that although the Father has no favorites among His children, but He does have intimates. We are to live the rest of our lives for His glory, exploring that intimacy.

“Leave the broken, irreversible past in God’s hands, and step out into the invincible future with Him.”

  Oswald Chambers

Judas Speaks

Matthew 27:3-10

My name is Judas Iscariot, and I betrayed my Lord. It really had nothing to do with avarice or greed. The money was fine, don’t get me wrong, but that isn’t why I turned Him in to the authorities. I simply did what they couldn’t. I wanted to force Jesus’ hand, so he had to drive the Romans out of our country. I was mistaken, I see that now.

Jesus loved each of us, including me. But I didn’t see it at the time.

When Jesus knelt to wash my feet, I was profoundly disturbed. And when He stripped down to his underwear, I really began to have serious doubts. Behaving like a common slave wasn’t really in my thinking. It would take extra work to shape Him, and to deaden such strange behavior. But it would be worth it in the end, if only Jesus would cooperate.

In my mind I knew that Jesus only needed the right moment to become the next ruler of Israel. That was His true destiny–and I was going to help him bring it to pass.

I knew that God had called me–this was my real purpose. I would do the work of God. I would be the kingmaker, and Jesus would certainly reward me.

Some have said that Satan was inside me.

But I hardly noticed. Instead, I was filled with excitement. Finally, the other disciples would come to my side, and together we could make it happen. Enough kneeling, no more groveling–we were going to rule Israel and end the wicked Roman occupation. I truly believed this. He was our Messiah, our deliverer.

The tricky part was to convince Jesus, to manipulate him if necessary, to get him to take control.

He had to see the opportunity that was waiting for him. He was already immensely popular among the people. We could quite easily turn all of this enthusiasm into a full-blown insurrection. But we obviously needed Him to lead us, and I could help him find His way. I knew we could do it. This was God’s will for me.

My plan was fairly simple–after I met with the Pharisees, I’d lead them to the garden where Jesus was staying. They insisted on an armed escort, just in case there was trouble among the disciples. I suppose that was prudent, but my part in all of this was simply to give Jesus a kiss on the cheek, to signify that he was the one to the soldiers.

I assumed he would resist and fight. I was wrong.

You see nothing went as planned. Jesus didn’t take charge, and he certainly didn’t overthrow the government. As a matter of fact, you could say that the opposite happened–He was silent and refused to answer most of their questions. I did hear Him say, “My kingdom is not of this world.” I should have listened.

I realized way too late, that I shed innocent blood. I went back to the priests who hired me, and I insisted they take back the silver. They refused. I threw the bag at their feet and left the temple. Ugly thoughts now filled my mind, and I knew without a doubt that I was completely lost.

Please, you must excuse me, but I have a date with a rope.