Episode 5

Episode 4

Episode 3

Who Knows You?

Well, folks, I'm sitting in what used to be my daughter's bedroom before she moved off to college. These four walls now represent the parameters of my ministry...no, I take that back. I think of my friend who lives with his family on a renovated school bus. He said that his living room is whatever happens to be right outside the doors of his bus. One week it was parked at a lake. That living room had a whole lot of room for life to happen. The parameters of my ministry are only limited by the time and distance my body can travel. Wherever I am there is my ministry.

Well, I can hear the garbage truck (at least that's what we used to call it growing up) picking up the green trash bin outside. Other than that things are pretty quiet now—at least on the outside of my skull. Inside my skull is another story. There's a war going on there. If you could be a fly on the inside of my skull, this is what you might hear...actually, it's probably not a good idea for you to know what's going on inside my skull at the moment. Anything you know about what’s going on inside my skull can and will be used against me in the court of human disconnection.

This brings me to a theme that my brother, Mike, hardwired into one of his screen plays; i.e., the thing we most fear and desire is to be known. We most fear to be known for the reason I already gave: if you knew me, really knew me (e.g., knew what actually was going on in my skull, knew the awful things I've done/still do in life, knew the awful things that have happened to me in life, etc.) you'd probably want to turn the key in my padded cell, toss the key down some sewer hole and walk away without looking back. We most desire to be known simply because we were made that way: part of what it means to be created in the image of God is to possess an innate desire to be part of a larger community where we are both know and are known. Just as God Himself is part of a Triune community where each member is intimately connected with every other member, so too I/you/we belong to a community (or wish to) where we know and are known, where we love and are loved. Hence the dilemma. If I let you into my skull (heart might be more appropriate), chances are you won't like what you see/hear. But if I don't let you into my heart, there will be no opportunity for you to know me, and, therefore, no chance in heaven for you to truly love the real me.

I believe most of what we love about each other are carefully crafted, socially acceptable facades that we have laboriously and meticulously chiseled away at for years. That's why a lot of people can't stand little children. The wee ones haven't had the time to craft their socially acceptable facades and so they are what they are—tear, food, snot stained wailing, grimacing, laughing faces who aren't sophisticated enough to fool people by pretending to be something they're not—it's always wysiwyg with the wee ones. The thing that freaks me out about these little non-pretenders is that Christ says I have to be like them if I want to get into heaven. I'm pretty sure He's not saying that we all have to give up personal hygiene to gain access into his presence. It's the pretense thing that we have to give up. The facade, the walls, the barriers, the fears, the control because of those fears. Fear is the antithesis of faith and it's fullest expression; i.e., love. The attempt to control that fear through hypocrisy, legalism, etc. is the antithesis of trust. In other words, I must be known, really known by Christ if I want to be with Him. This brings me to Matthew 7 and Matthew 25.

In Matthew 7:21-23 we have the overconfident, overbearing, self-righteous, take charge movers and shakers of this world who with their can-do swagger, wave their self-made brag-lists before the face of the Lord and exclaim, "Hey, Lord, check this out. Check out what we did for You in Your name!" They then proceed to check off all the good things they did for Him: prophesying in His Name, driving out demons, performing all sorts of miracles, winning the perfect church attendance award the past 10 years, reaching out to thousands of lost folk in the remotest parts of the world, starting up shelters for the homeless, fighting against those who would teach false doctrine... the list goes on and on. And at the end of the list, what does the Lord say? "Be gone from me you evil doers, you believed the wrong doctrine! You belonged to the wrong church! You pursued the wrong sort of ministry!" No. He utters something that should cause even the godliest among us to pause and consider: "Be gone from me you evil doers. I NEVER KNEW YOU." He doesn't tell them their prophesy was false, their exorcisms were ineffective, their miracles were second rate. I NEVER KNEW YOU comes from another ball park altogether.

Matthew 25 is the other ball park. So, the Son of Man is sitting on his glorious heavenly throne and all the nations are gathered before Him. He then proceeds to invite those on his right to come and take their inheritance, the kingdom which was prepared for them before the world was created. These folk didn't even have lists in their hands. In fact, it's pretty clear from the context that they were surprised—I can see them shaking their dumbfounded heads— that they got invited to the party in the first place. Jesus tells it like it is: I'm inviting you in because when I was hungry, thirsty, homeless, naked, sick and incarcerated you cared for me. Their response is the kicker: "When did we care for you in any of these circumstances?" Come again?! What sort of divine oblivion is this? And Jesus' answer? "When you did it for the least of these children of mine, you did it for me." It’s fascinating that Christ knew and recognized those who He invited into His kingdom even when it appears that they were a little fuzzy in their recognition of Him.

What's the difference between the list wavers in Matthew 7 and the head shakers in Matthew 25? A razor thin world to the human eye; a radically different, multi-dimensioned world to the eye of God. In Matthew 7 those who bring their lists before the judge have created their own kingdoms of, by and for themselves, revealing that they aren't known by the true King of, by and for whom all things came into being. In Matthew 25 those who are invited to enter the kingdom reveal that they have the blood of the king flowing in their veins (true, not blue, blood) not because of anything they themselves can boast about but because they move and have their being within the kingdom of, by and for the King of kings Himself. They reveal that they are known by the Truth, that they belong to the Truth because the manner in which they move manifests the pedigree, the family tree, the fountainhead from which their spiritual DNA flows.

The heart of the gospel isn't a matter of believing four points on a printed page. Neither is it coming up with a list of all the things one has done in the name of Jesus. The heart of the gospel—and, therefore, our "salvation"—is wrapped up in a simple question: Are you known by the Christ? Only those whom He knows will be invited into His kingdom to reign with Him because they alone will be able to bear the weight of His glory. It takes one to know one. It takes one to see one. Only those who are like Him, those who are known by Him, will be able to see Him.

The question on the table for you and me is "How does the way we live now reveal that we are known by the Judge and King of our souls?"

Episode 2

Food For the Soul

I had lunch yesterday with a good friend at Thai Thai, a simple yet savory buffet of all things—you guessed it—Thai. I love lunches where not only the food is good but the "soul food" is even better. Being with my friend provided the soul food. Things "unseen" were discussed (consumed?) right alongside the pad thai and chicken curry. Now that's what all meals should be like. And then it happened. The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. Just as I was about to stand up to pay the bill, Charlie, the waiter, placed a plastic platter of change on the table. I looked up at him confused. I hadn't paid yet so he must have placed someone else's change on our table. I began to express my confusion when he simply smiled that inscrutable asian smile at me (I should know, I've got 100% Japanese American blood). He pointed to the change and nodded. I still didn't get it until I looked carefully at the change. It was the exact amount of change that I would get had I walked up to the cash register and paid the bill: $5.20. The bill was for $15.05 and I had $20.25 in my hand. Then it dawned on me: Charlie had (1) observed me pull out the cash (including the quarter) from my pocket to pay the bill, and (2) knowing the amount I owed, (3) went to the cash register, (4) got my change, (5) walked over to my table and (6) smiled as he (7) placed the change before my confused face. I have a feeling the word gets fleshed out before me every day like this, but the question is do I have eyes to see and ears to hear it. Charlie was a living example of the "word made flesh" in more ways than one. Not only did he serve me beyond the call of duty (at least what we would expect of a "waiter"), but he also raised my awareness of God's presence by his awareness of mine.

A song of ascents.

I lift up my eyes to you, to you whose throne is in heaven. As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maid look to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he shows us his mercy. Have mercy on us, O LORD, have mercy on us, for we have endured much contempt. We have endured much ridicule from the proud, much contempt from the arrogant.

—Psalm 123

Episode 1