Welcome to Pastor Jack Buckley's weekly blog and podcast.
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Monday, March 28, 2005
God of New Beginnings
Two days before Easter the newspaper reported on a special little ceremony in Atlanta, Georgia.
Ashley Smith was rewarded for her role in the apprehension of Brian Nichols, who killed four people a few days before. In the middle of the night, outside her apartment, he'd stuck a gun in her ribs and then held her hostage inside for the better part of a day. Fortunately, she lived to tell about it. And her story has been buzzing all across America ever since.
A single mom, Ms. Smith pled that her captor spare her 5 year old daughter from becoming an orphan. Nichols had no intention to kill her, it seems, but was incredibly anxious about his situation. He bound her hand and foot and bought some time to settle down. Eventually he unbound her. And they began to talk. For hours. She even fixed him breakfast by and by.
Mainly, they talked about faith and fear, purpose and failure and redemption.
Ashley Smith learned about such things in the school of hard knocks. Her young husband died in her arms not too long ago. As a teenager she'd been arrested and even did some jail time. She'd abused alcohol and drugs. Then one day her life was transformed by faith in Jesus Christ.
So transformed, in fact, that now she spoke calmy with Brian Nichols about what God might have in mind about them meeting in such a soul collision. For she couldn't doubt God did have a purpose in it all.
To make her point, she read to him from her daily spiritual guide, "The Purpose Driven Life" by Pastor Rick Warren. That day's chapter was about "how real servants act." And she embodied a servant's attitude: caring about the people you're with, paying attention to their needs, looking for God's opportunity in the situation, and doing the best with what you've got.
As the conversation progressed, she moved from fear to confident faith. Maybe God wanted her own story to plant a seed of hope in her captor's heart? Might God intend to change his life too? What if justice and mercy conspired for a good outcome to this horrible chain of events?
What we know for sure is this: Brian Nichols eventually let Ashley Smith leave her house, taking her cell phone with her. Then he waited calmly for the police to arrive.
At the award ceremony, Ms. Smith said, "I want to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for his love and his grace. My life is a testament that God can use us even in the midst of tragedy, and miracles do happen."
The governor chimed in, "Through the long, frightening hours, she pierced the murderer's heart. Ashley was not alone with Mr. Nichols, because of her faith. There was someone else there with her."
Two days after that report, we celebrated the festival of new beginnings.
Easter's empty tomb opens a doorway into eternal life. Out from the shadow of death, we walk faith's path step by step accompanied by the invisible, invincible Risen Christ. Miracles do happen. Someone Else is always there.
posted by Jack Buckley at
11:14 AM
Monday, March 21, 2005
Who Do You See?
When Jesus rode as grand marshal in the first Palm Sunday parade, he made the biggest and smallest splash all at the same time. (You can read the story in Matthew 21:1-11.)
Big splash: The crowd went wild, cheering and waving palm branches, laying down their own cloaks in his path like Sir Walter Raleigh.
Little splash: He rode on a donkey, for God's sake. Not the conquering hero on a noble armored steed, but a prophet of peace on a lowly beast of burden.
Even so, the buzz spread from street to street all over town. "Who IS this guy?"
That's the question for each one of us, when we take the time to look a while at Jesus. Who is he? What do you see? What does Jesus mean to you?
I own a coffee table book called "The Faces of Jesus." Frederick Buechner is the writer, but the bulk of the book is color prints from around the world and down the centuries -- each some artist's stab at portraying the unknown.
In a way, each picture could be the result of looking in a mirror. Crucifix Jesus looks a bit Italian. German Jesus has fair skin and blue eyes. Urban American Jesus -- yup, dreadlocks. Medieval Catholic Baby Jesus sits on his mother's lap giving a precocious papal blessing with his chubby little hand.
Some would call this projection. The psychological trick of blowing up real big some unconscious idea inside ourselves, and calling it God, to meet some deep unconscious need as only a "god" could do. Unless it's only our own best-developed self that could truly fill the bill.
In that case, religious people are by definition those who lack the courage and tenacity to work out our own secular salvation.
You won't be surprised to hear that I think otherwise.
Religious art, while powerful in its own right, gives a tangible form to the story of God at work in the world. Each painter or sculptor's Christ figure reveals its creator's response to Jesus' story. So, leafing through my picture book, I see scores of testimonials to his universal appeal to the human heart.
Not a conquering hero, but a persuader of the spirit. "Stop," he says, "look closely. Who am I to you? For you?"
At the end of his artful commentary on all those works of art, Frederick Buechner decides, "The face of Jesus is a face that belongs to us the way our past belongs to us.... According to [the apostle] Paul the face of Jesus is our own face finally, the face we will all come to look like a little when the kingdom comes and we are truly ourselves at last, truly the brothers and sisters of one another and children of God."
posted by Jack Buckley at
10:28 AM
Monday, March 14, 2005
Death, Be Not Proud
God must be a great dancer.
I mean, his timing is impeccable. I'll explain that in a minute.
The last four weekends I've presided at four memorial services. It's like we've been infected in an epidemic of death. Each of those people lived a long good life, so our ceremonies turned out to be celebrations as much as final farewells. Even so, I'm insisting now that anyone else planning to die must take a number and stand in line.
Anyway, about God's timing...
In this season of death, yesterday's assigned Gospel passage was John 11. It's the story of Jesus at the tomb of his good friend Lazarus, who with his sisters Mary and Martha lived a stone's throw from Jerusalem. It seems Jesus made it a point on his trips in and out of the holy city to spend the night at their house. John says simply that he loved them. Like family.
This time he's there on life's saddest mission. Lazarus has died and been in the tomb four days already. His sisters are beside themselves, because Jesus had delayed his coming. Each of them separately tells him, "If you'd only been here, you could have healed him!"
I suppose God has a different time table from ours. How many times do you and I think, or pray, "NOW is the time for God to do something GOOD! Come on!!" And still it doesn't happen.
In any case, Jesus' clock wasn't set to Lazarus Standard Time.
His answer to both sisters was, "Your brother will rise again." To which they said, "Yes. At the end of time. [Between the lines: But that's cold comfort for here and now.]"
Then he says, "No. Now. Watch this!"
Wiping away his own tears, he faces the tomb and shouts,"Lazarus! Come out of there!"
Which he does. Yikes.
So. About God's timing...
If ever these four local families, their scores of friends, and one weary pastor needed to hear again that death is not the last word in life -- it's now!
We're well aware that death is a part of life. Everybody's body eventually wears out, shuts down, if disease or disaster doesn't get to it first. And we're realistic enough to feel all the ups and downs of the grief process.
But in light of Jesus' own death and rising up to leave an empty tomb, we're bold to look death in the eye and say, "You lose." Because there's so much more to life than flesh and blood. God's Spirit breathes into our spirit the kind of life that goes beyond death's last gasp. That's the meaning of Easter.
Hey. If you're in the neighborhood, come celebrate it with us. Two Sundays from now, March 27. I'll save you a seat.
posted by Jack Buckley at
12:29 PM
Monday, March 07, 2005
Look Carefully
We humans look on the outward appearance, but God looks upon the heart.
That's what the prophet Samuel discovered when he called on a gentleman farmer to find and anoint a new king for Israel. (See the whole story in 1 Samuel 16)
When told the visiting prophet's purpose, Gentleman Jesse lined up his sons for review. Samuel looked the oldest up and down, had him do the walk, then said, "Hmmmm. Not this one."
Then, one by one, six more sons were likewise tested -- and failed.
Samuel finally asked, "Is this all your boys? I must be missing something."
Jesse said, "Oh. Yeah. The littlest one is out taking care of our sheep. Didn't think you'd even miss him."
When young David was called front and center, Samuel heard God's voice in his heart: "Bingo!"
From that very day the history of Israel, and of the Christian church, was changed forever.
For it was David's family tree that would produce God's chosen line of kings to rule over God's chosen people, as long as they had such a thing as a king.
And Christians are convinced that Jesus was destined to be King of a spiritual realm, not geographical. Born in David's home town of Bethlehem; a direct descendent of David.
All of this seen through the eyes of faith.
Believe it or not, this reminds me of Woody Allen.
His best film, if you ask me, is "Crimes and Misdemeanors." Woody's schlumpy character is the patient of a high society opthalmologist. So is a rabbi who's going blind.
The doctor is up for Humanitarian of the Year honors at his favorite charity's gala event. Only trouble is he's just had his mistress killed to stop her nasty blackmail campaign.
During the banquet, the doctor sits on a grand piano bench with Woody. He quietly tells the story of what he's done and the inner conflict he feels, and of how he's actually gotten away with it all. So, let's get on with life and who'll know the difference?
Meanwhile, on the dance floor, the rabbi in his black glasses is waltzing with his lovely daughter. They whirl about wearing smiles of absolute bliss, enjoying the consolations of love, and trust, and hope for a truly good future.
I'm convinced that doctor will go on telling his dreadful story until finally he gets himself caught. He has no future, and his 20/20 vision sees that as clear as day.
The rabbi, though, is looking beyond glaucoma's limitations into the heart of the matter.
Just as Samuel did on that fateful day out at Jesse's farm.
posted by Jack Buckley at
12:11 PM
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