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Is that funny?

Posted on October 9, 2013 by Margaret

Nate had a fabulous laugh. If he thought something was funny and once got going, there was no stopping him till he’d slapped his knee pink and used his hankie to wipe tears away. He had what I used to call a “Three Stooges Sense of Humor,” laughing with gusto at slapstick comedy. Although I don’t find the stooges that funny, watching Nate go all-out laughing at them was hilarious.

Laughter, however, can communicate all sorts of things that aren’t especially funny: sarcasm, mockery, scorn, fear, disrespect. We see all of these laughs mentioned in the pages of Scripture (40-some times) but no one would characterize the Bible as a funny read. The several times God himself laughs, it’s out of derision toward nations that rejected him.

Because God is our heavenly Father, he probably enjoys watching our moments of joyful-laughter much like any parent delights in seeing their children happy. But there are times in the Bible when a laugh is inappropriate, and in that context, he disapproves. One interesting example appears in Mark, and though I’ve read the story multiple times, I didn’t notice the laughing part until a week ago.

Jesus was walking from one town to another, healing people along the way as he often did, when he entered the home of a 12 year old girl who’d recently died. The official mourning period had begun with a crowd of people loudly weeping and wailing, but when Jesus walked in, he stopped them. “What’s all the commotion about?” he said.

His comment made no sense to the mourners, but he was about to perform an incredible miracle and was laying the groundwork for it. Knowing that Jesus was a worker of wonders, the wailers ought to have stepped back in silence, expecting him to say or do something incredible.

But when he said, “She’s not dead, just asleep,” their response was just the opposite. They laughed. (Mark 5:39-40)

Jesus didn’t appreciate their disbelief and immediately insisted everyone leave (except the girl’s parents). Because of the mourners’ mocking laughter, they missed out on what would surely have been the highlight of their lives: witnessing Jesus bring a dead person back to life.

A good question for all of us is, “If I had been there, would I have laughed, too?” Even today, when God tells me something illogical or even preposterous, do I inwardly think, “Like that’s gonna ever happen!”

Or do I drop my jaw in believing expectation and say, “I can’t wait!” God is looking for people who believe in him all the way. No caveats, no partial approval, just full-on acceptance of everything he says.

As for those loud wailers in the little girl’s house, they missed a rare opportunity to have their faith personally strengthened by Christ himself…. all because they laughed.

“The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.” (2 Chronicles 16:9)

Smudgy Stains

Posted on October 1, 2013 by Margaret

Little Emerald is 11 months now, and though she can’t talk, she’s been communicating the same message since she began crawling a few weeks ago: “Clean your floors, Grandma Midgee.”

Taking advantage of her new mobility, she’s been investigating every corner of my cottage on hands and knees, a cleaning crew of one. But instead of swinging a broom or swiping a Swiffer, she just uses her clothes.

This morning while Birgitta was at school, Emerald and I worked on several projects in the basement. Although I sat her down next to a bin of toys, she quickly flipped to mobile-mode, resuming her floor-cleaning program. In just a few minutes her hands, knees and toes were black with who-knows-what, and at that point we abandoned the basement and headed upstairs to clean up.

Until Emerald began crawling, I had no idea my floors were as dirty as they were. It took “contaminating her” to let me know.

Isn’t that similar to what Jesus did for our filthy sins?

While on the cross, he willingly “crawled through” the sin-contamination of all mankind, letting every sin from every person, past, present and future, dirty him through and through. Scripture tells us he “became” our sin. How can we not sit up and take notice of how dirty he became, just so we wouldn’t have to be?

Then, after Jesus rose from the dead, everything changed. He conquered sin and therefore could become pure again himself, as he had been before he picked up all our filth. His suffering was “once for all,” after which he could freely offer an eternal clean slate to all of us.

So then why do we continue to suffer from guilt over our own sin? It’s because we’re shocked by the blackness of it, just like I was surprised to see Emerald’s filthy clothes. But as we turn from our “dirty deeds” and ask forgiveness, recommitting ourselves to live for Christ, God no longer sees our dark smudges, all because of Jesus. Our sins have been deep-sixed into the sea, and we can enjoy release from the heavy darkness of guilt. What a beautiful cleansing system our Lord has!

I lay my sins on Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God;
He bears them all and frees us from every guilty load.
I bring my guilt to Jesus, to wash my crimson stains
White in His blood most precious, ‘til not a spot remains.

(Horatius Bonar)

I’ve made a concentrated effort to get the dirty stains out of Emerald’s pink clothes, but even my best scrub brush and a combination of chemicals have left telltale smudges related to the blackness that used to be.

How glorious that when Jesus goes about forgiving even the darkest of sins, he does it all the way to spotless.

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” (Isaiah 1:18)

I lay my sins on Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God;

He bears them all and frees us from every guilty load.

I bring my guilt to Jesus, to wash my crimson stains

White in His blood most precious, ‘til not a spot remains.

(Horatius Bonar)

Bend and Stretch

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Margaret

No one is more flexible than a baby. The way they contort and pretzel themselves makes us wonder if their joints are made of bubble gum. At 11 months, Emerald has no trouble bending her legs straight up to her mouth and nibbling on her toes. She does it often, just for the fun of it. Somewhere along the way, though, gum-like joints change to stiff ones, and unless we’re constantly pursuing the training of a gymnast, we’ll never again put our toes in our mouth (which is not to say we’d want to).

Flexibility should continue to be, however, an important feature of our adult lives in ways other than physically. Take personal opinion, for example. How many of us stubbornly cling to our views even after someone else has made a different but valid point. Sometimes we rigidly refuse to listen at all, leaving others with a negative impression of us.

Older people are often labeled as “rigid”, most frequently by younger people. Since I’m a senior now, I’ve seriously considered this negative reputation, wondering if it’s true. Maybe our refusal to change the way we think is simply a result of more accumulated life experiences than the young. We might feel we “know better” and therefore resent the label.

The truth is, younger people aren’t the only ones doing the labeling. Don’t we oldsters sometimes see their flexibility and call it “youthful foolishness?” So who’s right?

Both groups are probably wrong. The trick to appreciating each other’s points of view is just to listen in love. But do I do that?

Last Sunday our pastor challenged us to insert the pronoun “I” into the Bible’s love chapter (1 Corinthians 13) as a way to assess whether or not we’re showing love to others. Here’s what mine sounded like: “I am patient. I am kind. I don’t boast. I’m not proud. I don’t insist on my own way. My love never ends.”

Ouch.

The holes in my supposedly loving flexibility were as evident as the holes in a young person’s professionally ripped jeans. I knew I had work to do.

For more than half my adult life I’ve lived under the same roof with teens and 20-somethings, and we’ve had our share of clashes. But God has tried to teach me all kinds of things through them, not the least of which is to be flexible in my thinking when hearing them out.

The older I get, the more this phenomenon of learning from the young proves to be a practical way to combat opinion-rigidity. They are pros at listening without judging, seriously considering one another’s take on things. I’ll never be as good at it as they are, but the more I’m willing to bend and stretch to listen lovingly, the greater the chance I won’t get opinion-stiff.

As for ever again being flexible enough to suck on my toes? I’d much rather be nibbling on Emerald’s!