Words from WW Blog

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)

I read recently in the Wall Street Journal that there is a growing demand for white males in Utah with long blonde hair and beards to pose in family pictures as “white Jesuses.” Who knew that surfer dudes could step in for the Messiah.

Of course, Jesus has been the go-to name in several situations. Not family names, mind you, but rather ascribed nicknames for extraordinary people. At a recent high school basketball game, a player was going-off with long-range jump shots and spectacular moves. A few of the high school students sitting in the bleachers started calling him “Basketball Jesus.” A minute later, Basketball Jesus was fouled on a three-point attempt and then promptly missed all three free throws. Jesus had come back to earth, so to speak.

Jesus gets affixed to people in business, finance, service organizations, sports, and even entertainment. He’s black, white, red, brown, green, lavender, and polka-dotted. Interestingly, our culture, which is becoming less Christ-based, brings the Son of Man into the descriptions of outstanding performances. We have “Lightning Jesus” for track, “Chef Jesus”, and “Genius Jesus. Notre Dame has ha “Touchdown Jesus” for decades. There’s probably even a “Preacher Jesus.”

Humility never seems to be an ingredient and one of these spontaneously named Jesuses. In fact, in many cases performances by the present-day messiahs are punctuated with endzone dances and the flexing of muscles after a massive dunk. Jesus never sought the spotlight, but nowadays, “Jesuses” like to have their performance pulpits elevated by actions and words. “Blessed are the meek” is old-school and too St. Franciscan!

This may reveal my bias and disdain, but I wonder, in the next few months, how many “Jesuses” will enter the pearly gates of the transfer portal?

I’m at church camp this week. A mass of hyper-active, high energy, squirrel-ish kids and youth who are wondering if they can survive for a week without social media, AirPods, and other noises they’re addicted to.

We’ve already experienced a few things that are the norm for the younger culture: Flatulence at that climactic point in the message where Jesus is about to say something eternally important, squished up sickly-looking faces at the creamed broccoli on the dinner plate, and kids jumping and dancing as they sing an “active worship” song.

They discover at camp that there is very little that offends Jesus…at camp. Many wonder why so many things in their home churches are viewed as offensive. For example, why do some old-timers at church get all worked up when a young person wears a hat in worship? What difference does a hat make? After all, they take their hats off at the high school football game when the National Anthem is played but wear it for the rest of the night. Why can’t they wear their hats in church, take them off during a prayer, and then put them back on? Does the absence of a hat make them more attentive during the ten minutes of announcements, twenty minutes of singing, and thirty minutes of the pastor’s message?

So, what exactly does offend Jesus? Jesus was irritated by people who looked pious but were void of spiritual hunger and humility. His words in Matthew 23:27 caused a stir. He said, “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.“

Woe, doggies!

Right before that, he said, “Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.”

That’s the thing about Jesus. He didn’t mind a little bit of mud, as long as the yearning of a person was for inner cleansing and transformation. In fact, he spit into some dirt, made a couple of mud eye packs, and put them on a blind man’s eyes. Interesting, he used an unsanitary method to heal a man’s inability to see, and wash away the limitations of his life.

What offends Jesus? Our blindness to the dirt in our souls.

The ways we are offended are so often based on culture, how we’ve been raised, and what looks good. Back in the 1900s mostly in Tennessee and Kentucky, many rural Baptist churches had a few holes cut in the floor of the sanctuary (worship room). Men sat on that side of the room, women on the other. The holes were for the tobacco chewers to spit during the service. No one was offended by it. It was a natural part of their culture. I doubt that Jesus was offended, either.

In my years as a pastor, I had people in my congregations who were offended by praise music, MIDI music systems, coffee and/or donuts and/or cookies in the sanctuary, ushers not wearing suits and ties, women ushers, kids not being quiet in worship, moving the fake organ pipes, bulletin mistakes, using the New International Version bible, using The Message paraphrase bible, guitars, drums, new people serving in some capacity, and dried out communion bread.

On the other hand, I’d be hard-pressed to remember people being upset by pride, gluttony, greed, lust, and envy. It’s easy to focus on the outer things we don’t have difficulty with, but others do. That means each one of us has a different shade of whitewash that Jesus sees, and maybe…we’re blind to.

“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” (Psalm 37:23-24)

As my basketball-playing days disappear into the rearview horizon, I’ve taken up walking more while listening to music or podcasts. In fact, I walked to Starbucks this morning carrying my backpack like I’m a middle school kid off to school. All I need to complete that picture from yesteryear is my Popeye lunchbox.

Last night, as I was out for a short walk around our neighborhood, it occurred to me that my eyes were surveying the sidewalk in front of me for cracks, pine cones, and stones that might cause me to stumble and fall. I’ve sprained my ankle many times over the years, but at the age of seventy, I have a growing concern about my hips and knees and how a misstep could create a situation that would take a few months to recover from.

It seems that stumbling seventy-year-olds are common. As I stepped off the curb yesterday, I remembered these verses in Psalm 37. The picture of the Lord not letting me fall revealed how loving and caring our God is. I may watch out for pine cones and stones as I’m out for a walk, but the Lord I trust will be close to me as I daily walk with Him. In fact, He promises to be so near me that, as I teeter on the edge of disaster, He will not let me fall.

When shadows conceal the clarity of the way, the One who brings light to dark places gives me peace of mind. Even though I can’t see what lies ahead, he can and upholds me. The Message paraphrase says God “has a grip” on my hand. That reminds me of walks with each of my grandkids in their beginning steps. The unsteadiness of each short stride was evident to anyone watching, but each of them also had an unwavering trust in the one whose hand they grasped.

I thank God that He’s unwavering in His love for me and His watching over and out for me.