Arnold Schwarzenegger, Heaven, and the Reality of What He Said

 I saw the clickbait headlines, and I clicked.  

That's what they are there for, right? 

And when a famous movie star says that heaven is a fantasy and that those who say we won't get to be reunited with those who have died are effing liars...well, that makes news.

And, boy, was I formulating a response.  Was I ready to jump into the fray and hammer what was reportedly said.  I had it all laid out and ready to go.

But, the thing about clickbait headlines and the articles that follow is: they often are misleading.  They pull quotations out of their context and create a narrative that may or may not be true to the initial setting.

So, before I decided to open up with both barrels, I decided to search for the original commentary in Interview Magazine.  Please read it if you have not.  It is worthwhile if you are interested in this story as I am--particularly as a pastor, theologian, and someone who preaches the reality of heaven.

As I read through the interview, I see a man whose life experiences have led him to a place where it is natural to question the existence of heaven.  Just read about what Schwarzenegger's life was like in Austria.  The guy knows poverty.  He knows what it means to struggle.  He had to use an outhouse and dream of having music in his home.  (These are things that many of us in the U.S. have no clue--no friggin' clue--about.  

Schwarzenegger found a pathway out of that poverty through weight training, joining the military, obtaining his passport, and coming to the U.S.  He was given opportunity through the generosity and care of famous gym owners.  

Schwarzenegger recognizes that he is no self-made man.  He knows there were people who gave him breaks.  He knows there are people who helped him along the way.  The tribute he gives to these people is packed with emotion.

And he is grateful.  Extremely grateful for everything that he has.  From extreme poverty to absolute wealth, the contrast he has experienced in his life is amazing.  And here is the thing: if you take into account where he started to where he is now, he has passed from hell into heaven.  From a house with no electricity and no running water to sitting down with famous people, smoking Cuban cigars, able to buy whatever he wants.  How could it get any better for him?  I mean, really, how could it get any better?

He went from the lowest of low to achieving the highest possible position of power that he could achieve in the U.S.--as the governor of California; the highest possible position of fame--a Hollywood movie star who has been in multiple blockbuster movies; to one of the wealthiest people in the world.  What more is there to look forward to?  How could heaven possibly be better?

And that's likely why death scares him, in my opinion.

Arnold claims to be no spiritual expert, and that comes through in his conversation in the interview.  As I read it, he is wrestling back and forth with the concepts of nihilism, hope, spirituality, body, soul, and how it all might work out.  It's much more nuanced than many of the headlines and articles report.

And I am thankful for his wrestling.  I wish the news articles would have highlighted that more, and I'd love to have a conversation with Arnold regarding these matters.  It might be difficult to persuade him, but on the other hand, it might not be.

Because I would like to ask him what his perspective might be if he had never gotten out of Austria; if he had never become Mr. Universe and a movie star; if he had never achieved the status that he had achieved.  Would he be as enamored with this life now?  Would he think that there could be nothing better than this life?  How does he grapple with the billions of humans who never come close to experiencing the life he has?  How does he deal with the fact that millions upon millions of people never experience justice, satisfaction, fulfillment, and the like?  

Would he look at a mother and father who are burying their still born child and say that the person who tells them they will see their child again in heaven are liars? Would he tell them that the child is simply going to disintegrate, to get over it?  Would he say the same to a mother and father staring down into the casket looking at their daughter's body for what seems like an eternity, not wanting to close that casket because when they do, it rams home the reality that they will never see her dance, sing, or laugh again?  Would he look into the eyes of a widow or widower who has just lost their spouse of 50+ years and now has to think of what life will be like without that person; who wonders how they will move on and deny the existence of heaven?  Will he look down on a person suffering from cancer whose every breath is painful; who is wondering why this disease has come upon her and wondering if this is all that life has to offer; and say that someone telling them about heaven is an effing liar?

I don't think so.  I don't think he would at all.  He's mad that we die. That comes across plain and clear in his interview.  He doesn't want it to be that way.  He wants someone or something to blame.  But he also has no clear way to resolve these thoughts.  Intellectually, he is in a rough space.

He is not alone.  He's not the only person who wrestles with such things. Lots of people do.

Those of us who are Christians have a resolution to these problems: answers that have been passed down for over 2000 years.  They are still very good answers, but they are also best shared in person; face to face; over coffee, beer, lunch, dinner, and the like.  Not likely that any such meeting would ever take place between me and Arnold, but I have had those conversations numerous times.  Some of them took place with the examples I shared earlier--those weren't made up.  They were situations I found myself in as a pastor, and I cannot express how the Christian view empowered each and every one of them to face the days ahead with a sure and certain hope.  I hope Arnold has someone who can sit down with him and help him see it too.

Two Great Things that Go Great Together (Apologies to Reeces Peanut Butter Cups)

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

    It is very good to see so many of you here this morning in worship.  It is always great to see a church full of people.  Easter is one Sunday when that normally happens because most know the importance of the day or many have their curiosity peaked and come to see what this Christian faith is all about.  For whatever reason you are here, I give thanks to God that you are here, but I also would like to ask this question: where were you on Friday?

    I mean, we also gathered together then to worship, but the church most definitely was not full.  Where were you on Friday?  Now, please do not think that I am asking you this to instill within you a sense of guilt or obligation.  Far from it.  The Church throughout history has been guilty of trying to motivate people through guilt and fear far too often.  I do not want to add to that history.  My question is one of curiosity as to why few show up for Good Friday services.  I mean, I do understand some folks who say, “Pastor, I love coming to hear the good news of Easter.  I love coming to hear that Jesus is risen from the dead because in a world like ours where we are constantly bombarded by bad news and news that makes us scared, I love hearing something positive for a change.  I don’t like hearing about death and dying.  I don’t like hearing about blood and torture.  I don’t like hearing about nails and thorns.  I’d much rather hear about life and abundance.  I’d much rather hear about good news.”  I understand where you are coming from, but I’d like to remind you this morning that there is a reason we call it Good Friday and not Bad Friday or the Death of God Friday.  No.  It is also a very, very good day.

    At this point, you may be wondering why I am talking about Friday so much.  You may be scratching your head thinking, “Isn’t this Easter.  Aren’t I supposed to be hearing about the resurrection?  Why this talk of the cross?”  Let me answer in this fashion.  You see, I am old enough to remember when Reeces Peanut Butter Cups used to do a lot of advertizing on television.  I don’t know how many of you actually remember those commercials, but I do.  Usually, there was a guy or gal walking down the street or sidewalk eating a bar of chocolate.  Then there was another person walking down the street blissfully eating peanut butter.  Both were oblivious to the world around them.  Somehow, the two always managed to run into each other, and somehow, magically, the chocolate bar always ended up in the peanut butter.  After a moment of complaining that the two things were mixed, the folks would taste the result of the accident and say, “It’s delicious.”  Then the announcer would say, “Two great tastes that taste great together, Reeces Peanut butter Cups.”  You see, Recees is making the argument that chocolate and peanut butter are better together than they are separately.  It’s an important point.

    Now, there was a part of me that wanted to put this together a little differently.  I mean, part of me wanted to use part of the theme song to the television series, Married with Children.  You know, the little song that went, “Love and Marriage; Love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage.  Let me tell you brother, you can’t have one without the other.”  I wanted to use that, but I wasn’t sure it was appropriate given the nature of the television show. ;-) But the point is this: the crucifixion and the resurrection go together.  The two are inseparable.  As they combine, we see the Gospel in all of its fullness–in all of its glory.  The cross is God’s redemption of the world–truly good news.  The resurrection is Jesus vindication and the revealing of the hope we share when we trust in Jesus’ action–again, truly good news.  Both are great in and of themselves, but when you put them together, then you have something truly marvelous!  You may wonder how it all goes together.

    This past Lent, during our Wednesday evening worship services, I preached a sermon series titled, “What is the Gospel?”, and I spent time laying out the Christian narrative.  It began with creation as God created a world where all was good, where everything fit.  We have echos of that world in our midst today.  In the recent past, I was visiting with someone who works in the medical field who said that our brains were hard wired for doing good things–for helping one another; for compassion and kindness.  What a wonderful echo of the way God had created us.  Imagine if we all functioned with kindness, compassion, and doing good for each other at all times.  This is the way God intended it!

    However, the story progressed because we know that none of us act with kindness and compassion at all times.  None of us work fully for the good of another at all times.  There is something deep within that is corrupt.  There is something deep within that seeks our own well being; our own satisfaction; our own desires above the needs of another.  Where did this come from?  Christianity points to a particular point in human development when we decided to be like God.  We decided we wanted to know good and evil and decide that for ourselves.  We decided we didn’t want God’s guidance and instruction, but that we could handle such matters for ourselves.  We looked to ourselves for our own well being and our own satisfaction.  In short, we decided to be little gods ourselves, and the results were disastrous!  Now, you might wonder how this might be a bad thing and whether or not this is still true of even yourself.  You might wonder if we still want to be little gods in this day and age of marvelous technology and advancement.  I would argue, yes, in every way this is still very relevant.  Aside from much of the evil and greed we see happening in the world, there is this: who among you here this morning at some point and time hasn’t said, “If everyone would just believe like I believe and do the things I think are right, then the world would be great!”  Do you see what you are trying to do in that statement?  Do you see what your heart is actually getting at?  If everyone would just do as you say they should, then the world would function great.  You are trying to be a little god and pontificate to the world!  Yes, this all rings very, very true.

    And as I said before, such things prove disastrous for our relationship not only with God but with one another.  “How?” you might ask.  Well, think about it: if you think one particular way is the right way, and another person thinks the exact opposite is the right way, what is going to happen?  Will you come to any sort of resolution?  Will you be able to work things out and through if you are convinced in your own mind that you are absolutely and completely right?  No.  You will never be able to do so.  You will work either through power or manipulation to achieve your goals and your desires no matter what happens to another.  Convinced of your own rightness, you will end up stepping on those who disagree with you, and eventually seeing them as the enemy.  Do you wonder why our political system is in gridlock?  Do you wonder why Republicans and Democrats cannot get along?  Do you wonder why liberals and conservatives spend time finger pointing and digging trenches instead of building bridges?  It all goes back to thinking that I have all the answers and that I am a little god unto myself.

    Of course, when we try to be little gods ourselves, not only are our relationships with one another strained, but what does that do to our relationship with our Creator?  What does that do to our relationship with the one who desires to truly be God of our lives?  Well, it strains it too, to say the least.  It creates a gap between the true God and ourselves–a gap that cannot be crossed despite our best efforts.  You may wonder why we cannot cross that gap.  You may wonder why we can’t make things right with God.  Here’s why: first off, God demands perfection.  He wouldn’t be God if He asked for anything less.  We must love Him above all things and then love one another as we love ourselves second.  If we are honest with ourselves, we know that we don’t do this.  Secondly, if we are honest with ourselves, we know that we only strive to follow the law when there is threat of punishment.  My famous example of this is driving the speed limit.  How many of us only slow down when we see the flashing lights ahead of us?  How many of us only slow down when we see a DPS vehicle coming up from behind?  What motivates us?  Fear.  Is fear a healthy motivation for living in a relationship with another?  Of course it isn’t.  And so, if we are living in relationship with God in fear of being imperfect and only following the commands out of fear, then we don’t have a relationship.

    God realized this.  God realized that living by the law only led to fear on our part.  It only led to obedience by threat of punishment.  It was not healthy.  So God acted on His part to make things right.  God acted when we could not fulfill the law and would not fulfill the law.  While we were still living in our sin and disobedience, God sent Jesus into the world to live the life that we should live; to die the death that we deserved so that things might be made right between God and man.  God, took on human flesh in the divine man Jesus to die for the sins of the world.

    For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but that the world might be saved through Him.

    And where did God die the death we deserved?  Where did God’s ultimate act of sacrificial love take place?  Where did God redeem you and me?  Where did God pour out His very life so that we might be made right with Him?  On the cross.  You were bought with a great price.  A great price indeed.  You were redeemed on the cross of Calvary.  This is why Friday was so good–so very good indeed.

    Yet, Friday would have not been so good if that was the end.  I mean, sure, we would have been reconciled to God, but then evil would have triumphed.  Death would have been the final say.  Injustice would have gotten the upper hand.  Perhaps I would be right with God, but then I would have no hope. 

    But that would not be the case.  That would not be the case at all.  For reconciliation with God now has a final result.  The earth shook.  The stone moved.  Jesus emerged alive!  It is a foretaste of the feast that you and I will share when we believe and trust in His actions!  For no matter what befalls us in this life–no matter if we lose a child; if we suffer from cancer; if we lose our savings; if we win the lottery; if we have a successful business; if we fall on our face or rise to new heights.  No matter if we experience loss or gain; God will have the final word.  God will have the final say.  God will bring life out of death; light out of darkness; hope out of despair.  This is the resurrection promise! 

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

    And we must put the cross and the resurrection together.  We must see what God has done to redeem the world in Jesus’ life and death.  We must see what our hope is as Jesus rises from the dead.  These two belong together.  They cannot be separated, for in them we see the true nature of the Good News.  We see the true nature of the Gospel.  And it is meant to be shared.  The women in the book of Mark today ran and hid in fear.  They told no one.  I think you know the better response.  Tell the world what God has done in the cross and in the resurrection.

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed.  Alleluia!  Amen. 

The Conversion of a Pastor

A reader asked something very pertinent and poignant:

I've read with great curiosity about your "conversion" and was wondering if there is/are post(s) from that time that I may read.  I struggle with the same issues that your congregant Mark dealt with and I read your sermon from his funeral and it was great.  I was just hoping to read what you were writing at the time he gave you that book that lead to your "conversion"...really a fuller understanding of the Gospel, I'd say.

I think one would have to read through the entirety of this blog in order to grasp what I was writing at the time this conversion process started, but one would also have to know the underlying processes which was at work as well.  In this post, I hope to lay some of that out so that you can see just what was going on inside my heart at the time.  Be forewarned, I personally don't think it was pretty.  In fact, it was rather petty.  At the time, I never saw what I was doing and what my motivations were.  I know now, and I have a sense of shame regarding them.  But none-the-less, I will put the chips out there and let them fall where they may.

As I stated in my Easter Sermon to my congregation, I was filled with dreams as a pastor--big dreams.  I wanted to be the pastor of a congregation that grew and grew and grew.  I wanted the place to worship thousands on a Sunday and have thousands of members.  I wanted that congregation to buck the trend of decline experienced by denominations in the U.S., and then I wanted folks to beat down my door asking, "How did you do it?"  I wanted to be able to share my expertise and be important in the eyes of the church.  I wanted fame and notoriety.  To an extent, these things still reside within me as a shadow.  I am not sure I will ever get rid of them.

Of course, in order to have these dreams come to fruition, I needed a congregation to cooperate.  I needed others to cooperate with me and make this stuff happen.  I would work like the dickens to see it accomplished, but I needed others to work like the dickens as well.  I never realized how self-centered this approach was because, as I see it now, I was using Jesus as a means to an end and I was using a congregation and its people as a means to an end.  The only humility I had within me was a false humility to make people think I wasn't using them.  (Again, I never saw it this way at the time.  I never thought I was using anyone.  I thought I was doing God's work and simply preaching the Gospel.)

I considered my first congregation a learning experience as I served as an associate pastor, but coming to my current congregation was a chance to really do things my way.  I jumped in with both feet and hit the ground running.

And things went wonderfully!  The congregation grew by leaps and bounds!  People were excited about doing things!  People were filling the pews!  And I was thrilled!  My dreams seemed like they were well on their way to coming true.  We were drawing all sorts of people to the church--some who were disgruntled with other congregations; others who had stopped worshiping long ago but were returning; young families with children.   I was happy, happy, happy.

But then things began to stop.  Perhaps there were many factors, including making the transition from a "pastoral" sized congregation to a "program" sized congregation, but there was one in particular that I can point to that filled me with fear.

The national church in 2009 made the decision to ordain practicing homosexuals.  There were a few members who were absolutely against this decision.  There were others who favored it.  There were many who were not happy but wouldn't cause a fuss--they would just stop giving.  There were others who really didn't care at all.  It was a no win situation as far as I was concerned.  The national church assembly had just thrown a monkey wrench into my plans.

And so I tried to fix it.

I did.  I tried to come up with a solution that wouldn't necessarily satisfy everyone, but it would be enough to keep the congregation on the right track to growth.  My dreams wouldn't be derailed!  Or so I thought.

The "fix" didn't work.  We still lost members.  A different sort of "spirit" seemed to surround the congregation.

And so I went to work.  I tried to get the church focused on other things.  You know what all the pundits say, right?  Keep an organization focused on a project.  Keep them focused on doing good things!  That will bring folks around and keep them coming to your organization.  Yep, I bought it.  Onto trying such events.  The first of which was the Kan You Kover 100K?--one of the reasons I actually kicked off this blog.  These things will work, right?  No luck.

Little did I know that burnout was fast creeping upon me.  I had thrown myself into trying to save my dream, and it was taking its toll.

It was around this time that I was given the book A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Tackle Life's Biggest Questions.  Looking back now, it was a blessing and a curse at the time.  Ultimately, it was a blessing, but to begin with it fed another part of my ego.

You see, I suffered from, and still to an extent suffer from, a tremendous desire to be right.  I want to have the right thoughts, subscribe to the right doctrine, do the right things, and so on and so forth.  I wanted to think that I was intellectually superior to others, and I wanted to think I was morally superior to others as well.  I would have never, ever admitted this before.  False humility.

The authors presented in this book offered me a train of Christian apologetics that I had not been exposed to in my days of college and seminary.  After having been exposed to "Christian fundamentalism" in my youth, college and seminary presented me with the exact opposite end of the spectrum.  Neither of these two paths seemed intellectually satisfying in my estimation.  Both seemed to have severe inconsistencies.  The train of thought presented by the book seemed to have fewer inconsistencies and have a better progression of logic.  Therefore, I became hooked.

I read and read and read.  I ordered other books by those who had chapters in the book.  I absorbed their thoughts thinking I had found the "right" path.  I now had the answers!  I knew what would save my dream!

Discipleship!  I had to be a better disciple.  I had to make my congregation be better disciples!

I embraced another form of legalism, and burnout loomed large.

Yeah.  Long story short, I failed at that discipleship thing.  I just couldn't be a great disciple, and I couldn't make others be disciples either.  Looking back at many of my sermons from those days, I was so concerned about what we were supposed to be doing!  Do this.  Do that.  Give here.  Be loving.  Be kind.  Produce the fruits of the Spirit.  I was also consumed with believing the right things.  This is the proper belief.  This is the proper doctrine to grasp.  If we all just believed this, things would turn, and we would stop this plateau and grow once again. 

What I failed to realize is that these sort of things don't happen unless a heart has been transformed by the Gospel--the realization that our salvation is from the Lord; that our self-worth is from the Lord; that we do not strive for worldly status and praise--"I haven't accomplished much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on very good terms."

I've written a couple of times about that statement of my grandfather's.  I wrote about it this past Easter along with Timothy Keller's speech about doing evangelism in a postmodern world.  Both of these events were instrumental in bringing me through that final lap of conversion.  Honestly, I had to fail before this could happen.   I had to burn out.  I had to realize my failing and frailty.  I had to realize my own brokenness and inability to grow a church.  I had to realize that I was using Jesus as a means to an end and not as an end in and of Himself.  I had to die to all of that.  I had to be humbled.

It wasn't pleasant, but there is now something different within me.  There is peace.  There is joy.  I'm not trying to treat my congregation as a means to an end.  I don't get angry or frustrated with others when they make decisions which are not in line with having Jesus at the center of their lives.  Hey, I spend a long time doing the same thing, and if I am honest with myself, there are times when I still do such things.  I know Jesus is still working on me.  I know Jesus will work on them.  I simply need to proclaim the gospel.

And that gospel is rather mucked up these days by the church.  I mean, most of the time we spend talking about what we should do.  We consume ourselves with the transformation of society or hammer folks with ideology.  We focus on a lot of shoulds.  Shoulds are important, no doubt, but you cannot talk should in the church until you talk redemption.  You cannot talk about living the Christian life until hearts have been turned toward God.  Only after folks become converted to the Christian faith can we begin trying to wrestle with how we are supposed to live it out.

Too often, in the church, we make the assumption that folks hearts are already tuned in. We make the assumption that they have already been changed by the gospel.  I think making that assumption is deadly.

I think making that assumption has caused many of our congregations to either become "liberal" or "conservative".  We embrace a particular ethic or social stance or ideology to become acceptable to those outside; then, those folks will want to become a part of us because our ideology matches as well as the things we do.  In my estimation, this has transformed many churches into clubs.

I once asked members of one particular congregation what made their church different from any other social organization.

It was quite awkward for a few moments.

What distinguishes the Church of Christ from any other organization is its focus on the Gospel of Jesus Christ--God's reconciling the world unto Himself through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  It is the power of the Gospel to change lives--to bring a sense of lasting peace, joy, and fulfillment which makes us different.

Our salvation; the world's salvation is of the Lord!  It's of the Lord!  Our self-worth; our status; our identity comes from the Lord!  It's of the Lord!  I don't have to go around proving myself.  I don't have to be important in the eyes of anyone or any institution.  I don't have to have a congregation grow in order to be happy or fulfilled.  I simply need Jesus.

I somewhat understood that with my head, but it hadn't sunk deep within.  It didn't  govern my heart.  I think it does now.  I still struggle.  I still find myself becoming a little disappointed when worship attendance isn't where I think it should be.  I still get a little upset when people tell me they are coming to worship and then don't.  I still find myself wanting to be right about all kinds of things; but these things no longer dominate.  These things are no longer my ultimate pursuits.

I've changed.

Maybe you seek that kind of change too.
Maybe you are tired of getting your worth from all sorts of things.
Maybe you are stressed out; burned out; unhappy; unfulfilled.
Take a deep breath and examine whether or not Christ is at the center of your life.
Examine whether or not you are pursuing Him or other things.  (This may be extremely difficult; as I noted earlier, I wasn't aware of what I was doing.)
Perhaps you will have a moment of clarity.
Perhaps not.  Be patient.  Wait.  Seek.  Ask God for it.  (Read my next sermon for some insight into how this process may look as it plays out.)

But don't go around thinking you can continue to do all the same things.
Don't think that you can continue to pursue the things you are pursuing now.
Change will have to happen.
It will be painful.  I am sorry to say that as we tend to avoid painful things, but it is necessary.
But once broken through, when Christ orients your heart toward Him, things change

And for the better.

The Truth--Jesus--sets you free.

There is no Sugar Coating Life

There just isn't.

Plain and simple.

There is no doubt in my mind that life is good...at times.

And there is no doubt in my mind that life is really rotten...at times.

What astounds me is how oftentimes, folks stay at either end of the pendulum without naming life for what it is.

Martin Luther once remarked, "A theologian of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theologian of the cross calls the things what it actually is."

This past week has been rough for the community I serve (and for me as well).  A well liked church member suffered a massive stroke, and the prognosis isn't good.  He is on hospice and will meet his eternal glory soon.

Another church member and fellow musician in our church band expedited his meeting with Christ by committing suicide last week Wednesday.  A life-long struggle with depression finally ended, but the shock and grief hit a whole lot of people.

It was quite the double whammy for many, and there is no sugar coating it.  You can't put a good spin on things and say, "Oh, everything is just peachy-keen.  God is in control and is orchestrating all of this stuff to bring on bigger and better blessings!  Just have enough faith and everything will work out fine!"

You can take this train of thought and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.

As I have written before, I do not believe God orchestrates such events.  These events take place because of the brokenness of our world--they are a direct consequence of Sin--separation from God--not because of God.  It is during and after these events that God really and truly rolls up His sleeves and goes to work.  It is during and after these events that God works to bring good from evil; peace from turmoil; healing from suffering.

It is hard for me to fathom that many folks still cling to the idea that if one commits suicide, one is eternally destined for hell.  It is hard for me to fathom that some still cling to the idea that we are struck down with illness, disease, stroke, or cancer as some sort of punishment for the wrongs we have committed.  This works-righteousness theology sometimes runs very deep.

But God is a God of grace.  Christ revealed that unequivocally through the cross and resurrection.  St. Paul expounded on it through his letters.  For those who believe in Christ, we are not judged by what we do.  We are not judged by our actions for our righteousness does not depend upon our righteousness, but on Christ's righteousness.  We are not saved because of what we do, but because of what Christ has done.

As I remarked in conversation yesterday:

You know, if we were judged based upon what we do, we would all go to hell.  Jamie committed suicide.  He killed himself, but if I get angry with someone, according to Jesus, I am committing murder.  I am doomed if I am judged by my actions.  But I am not.  Jamie was not.  We are judged according to Christ's actions.  Period.

This doesn't sugar coat life.  It allows us to be frank about life.  It allows us to name all the pink elephants in the room.  It allows us to be honest about the circumstances of life and death.  It allows us to name the brokenness of life--call darkness for what it is--call pain for what it is--cry and wail and weep in the midst of that pain.

But it also allows us to live without despair.  For the theology of the cross leads straight to the resurrection.  Despair turns to hope.  Death turns to life.  Darkness turns to light.

In the midst of the messyness of life, I have come to realize I have a powerful, humbling privilege: to proclaim the gospel--to remind people that God is working to transform their brokenness into wholeness; to turn mourning into dancing.  I have the privilege of telling people that though Jesus died, He now lives, and because He lives we shall live also.  And neither life, nor death, nor things present, nor things to come--nothing in all creation--can ever separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.

There's no sugar coating life.

But in the end, there is transformation.  There is resurrection, and that, my readers, is sweet.