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Showing posts with label John 1:14. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John 1:14. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Were Man to Become a Dog


            Many years ago, C. S. Lewis wrote words that imaginatively captured the challenge of God becoming a human:
            Lying at your feet is your dog. Imagine, for the moment, that your dog and every dog is in deep distress. Some of us love dogs very much.
            If it would help all the dogs in the world to become like men, would you be willing to become a dog? Would you put down your human nature, leave your loved ones, your job, hobbies, your art and literature and music, and choose instead of the intimate communion with your beloved, the poor substitute of   looking into the beloved's face and wagging your tail, unable to smile or speak?
           Christ, by becoming man, limited the thing, which to Him was the most precious thing in the world; his unhampered, unhindered communion with the Father.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Invader


           Through the years, on Sundays, I have witnessed many unique events. I once had a stranger tell me God had told him to give me a new vehicle. Another time, a young man in his twenties challenged me to a fight.
            Here is a story sent to me today by one of our members at Shiloh. I do not know if it was an actual event or a legend, but it is a nice reminder for us:

His name is Tim. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college.

He is brilliant. Kind of profound and very, very bright. He became a
Christian while attending college.

Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative
church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not
sure how to go about it..

One day Tim decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his
T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Tim starts down the aisle looking for a seat.

The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat. By now, people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything.

Tim gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.

By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick.

About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the
church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Tim.

Now the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane and, as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do.

How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?

It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy.

The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane.
All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing.
The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.

And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Tim and worships with him so he won't be alone.

Everyone chokes up with emotion...

When the minister gains control, he says,
“What I'm about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget.”

            I know one reason that church will never forget what it saw--the old deacon’s action is emblematic of the work of Jesus. Among other acts of service, Jesus came from heaven, lowered himself by our side, and offered the Father praise along with us, so we would not be alone.


Monday, November 22, 2010

Durkey


When I was in college, Jim McGuiggan told a story drawn from a movie he had seen. The movie was about a rich father with a son named Durkey.  (Not, Turkey—Durkey.)

The father owned a couple of planes and Durkey was out flying in one of them with the father's pilot. There was trouble, they radioed “Mayday”, and they crashed in the desert. 

The authorities searched and found the plane, the pilot was dead and, Durkey, aged 7, had wandered off.  The authorities called the father and told him the story. 

He called a print shop owned by a friend and had several 1000 pamphlets printed up. Then the father got in his other plane and flew up over the crash area and dropped these pamphlets from the sky.

Durkey picked up one of the sheets and it said, "Durkey, I know you're afraid, but don't worry, I love you, I'm looking for you, and I’ll find you."

If I was 7 years old and found that note, it would help me.

Nevertheless, there was a time I was lost and and had wandered away from my Heavenly Father. He sent me a message, a love letter, really, in flesh.

The message said, “Mark, I know your lost and I know you are afraid. But I love you, I’m looking for you, and I’ll find you.” And He did.

Jesus was my message from God.

14The Word became a human being and lived here with us. We saw his true glory, the glory of the only Son of the Father. From him all the kindness and all the truth of God have come down to us (John 1:14). CEV