John Fischer The Catch

Seeking and finding are not mutually exclusive; they are two sides of the same coin. Finding does not mean you have ceased seeking; nor does the fact that you are still seeking mean you haven’t found anything. Seeking and finding go on and on. They are both important ingredients in the process of spiritual discovery. They are both a part of believing. It’s a delicate balancing act with dogmatism on one end and autonomy on the other. The reason we get into arguments over things like this is we are uncomfortable with being in the middle, but that is the beauty of paradox.

To sing along with U2, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” does not mean you have rejected the concept of truth or that you are going to pick and choose your own idea of truth; it can mean that you have come to realize that truth is not a static thing. It moves and grows with your experience of it.

Truth is both objective and subjective. Truth to be truly true has to be true outside of my experience of it; yet that does not rule out the fact that my experience of truth grows and may even change with my understanding of it.

If Jesus said He is the truth (which He did), is that the end of the matter or just the beginning?

This is what makes so many Christians unattractive to those outside the faith because they make arrogant statements that say in effect “We have the truth and you don’t.” What would it be like if we said, “We have the truth, and we don’t”? Or what if we said, “We have the truth and you do too. Tell us what you know of the truth and we’ll tell you what we have come to know”? This might sound scary to some, but it is part and parcel to faith and might be a breath of fresh air to unbelievers.

Truth is much bigger than we can define or wrap our arms around unless, of course, you can tell me all there is to know about Jesus and what the knowledge of Him informs us about the world around us. Seeking and finding – doubting and believing – are all a part of the same thing.

Got Jesus? Good. Let’s find out what this is all about!

“I am the way and the truth and the life.” (John 14:6)

Well the 2nd Annual Isaiah House/Women of Vision Academy Awards Banquet has come to pass and it will be hard to top this. A big part of the evening was the opportunity for the women to view the “premiere screening” of the video we created, “Whispers from the Isaiah House,” that featured eleven of them sharing stories of how they made a difference in someone else’s life. All eleven sat dumbfounded at the value of what they had to contribute that they hadn’t previously discovered, even though it was in their own words. We realized that at least for this showing, we spliced them too close together for all the spontaneous applause that bled into the next interview.

As the evening played out, I was more and more amazed at how privileged I felt to be a part of this.

It should come as no surprise that God has a special place in His heart for the homeless. His own son was homeless. Jesus once said to a man who claimed to want to follow Him wherever He went, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). You sure you want to follow me when I don’t know where I’m going to spend the next night? How interesting that I have always known this but never actually thought of Jesus as homeless. Gosh Jesus, you’ve become a drain on the system. Why don’t you go get a job like everyone else?

When you think of it this way, you can see why those who put any effort into caring for people without homes are putting themselves in direct line with the compassion of God. That’s what has been so great and so obvious about our efforts to give more than just food to the women of Isaiah House. We have been the ones who have been blessed. We have been the ones who have been humbled. We have been the ones who have come to realize that in being around these women, we are not only befriending royalty, we ourselves are being gathered in by the strong arm of God’s love.

Everyone there received an award last night, and everyone was called by name to come receive it. Most of them had something to say that was a genuine, heartfelt response to the staff of Isaiah House and the Women of Vision. The little plastic trophy I handed each of them probably cost two cents to make. The joy and honor with which it was received was priceless. One woman broke down as she received it and had to return to her seat speechless. It occurred to me that she quite possibly had never been appreciated in her entire life. If I ever had even the slightest shred of not taking any of this seriously, it was forever erased in that moment.

Tonight, I don rented white tie and tails and try to take the place of Billy Crystal as host of the 2nd Annual Isaiah House/Women of Vision Oscar Night. (I am still working on my opening monologue, by the way, and am hurting for material, so please send me any jokes you think might be appropriate.) The goal of this event, of course, to proclaim every woman there, an Oscar winner.

It’s something that should happen to everyone, everywhere – a chance to celebrate life wherever you are in it and whatever it has brought you. Our independent panel of judges got together and voted the women in the room as the most awesome in the world. They won hands down. They all won the nomination and the Oscar. It’s a night Isaiah House sweeps the ticket. Every woman takes everything home.

Most awards nights are for the pretty people, the popular people, and the people popular culture recognizes as the ones who make us laugh, cry and wish we were them. All well and good, except those judges never met these women.

And we anticipate, as happened last year, that the highlight of the evening will be their acceptance speeches. Last year, we expected maybe a few of them would get up and say something and we were overwhelmed that, with the exception of maybe one or two, everyone wanted to speak. Some were humorous, thanking their “producers” and “publicists,” and others were deeply heartfelt and close to tears. But they were all overwhelmed and rose to the occasion to receive their “awards” with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I guess we shouldn’t have been so surprised. It’s what happens when you genuinely honor people and go to the trouble of making sure they know you appreciate them.

These are not awards for accomplishments (we resisted the temptation of making up fictitious categories) and for that reason, each will be announced simply with: “And the winner is…” There is no need for anything more. No need to know what has brought them to this place. No need to know of the addictions, the handicaps, the beatings, the incarcerations, the lost children, the failed marriages, the pain, poverty and suffering that we know has gone on here. No… not tonight.

Tonight we celebrate the beauty of each being. I will hopefully crack some jokes, but this will be no joke. As they anticipate the red carpet, they will select a shawl or a feathered boa or beads or gloves that have been donated for this event. It will be a mock celebration, but I have seen this before and I know these women will not be mocked. They will play the game but only so far, because they need the reality of what the game represents. They desperately need a chance to be honored for who they are, not for what they have done. And they will be. This is, in some ways, more sincere than the real Oscars. This night celebrates what we know is a God-given reality – the beauty and worth of each one of these lives.

Come on, admit it: don’t you want one of these awards? You have it coming to you. Who knows… maybe we’ve started something here.

The interviews we filmed at Isaiah House last month will soon be ready to share. As one of the cameramen commented to me, it’s about 10 to 1 the amount of time it takes to edit versus film something. For every hour of filming, plan 10 hours of editing. Last night, I was up late with one of the filmmakers doing the final editing of a 30-minute DVD featuring the stories of a dozen women who were anxious to tell them on camera.

This man had some of the latest video editing technology in his home studio, and it was amazing to see the capabilities we have of cutting, splicing and marrying sections together without it being obvious what you have done. It helps you render something concise and to the point for the viewer, but also something that is not the whole story of a person. In a way, it’s twice edited. First, you have the part of the story that person wants to tell, and then you have the part of that we want to have them telling in the video. Hopefully, if we’ve done our job right, what you see in the end is a glimpse of the real person, not a caricature of our creation.

This experience has pointed out to me how much we edit ourselves. We are calculated in what we want the “viewer” (in this case, whomever we are talking to) to see. And because we want our story to come out good in the end, and we are afraid of being judged by others, we often leave out the parts that would make our story ring the truest and give others the most hope. In other words, the most important parts of our stories – those parts which are the most useful to God – often are the parts we keep on splicing out, like anger, loneliness, bitterness and hurt.

The real story of God’s love for the world is imbedded in our real story of His present tense, ongoing love for us, and you don’t want to over-edit that piece. The truth about ourselves is what will give hope to others with similar issues, because we are all human – we are all sinners – and we have much in common.

This is, in essence, what we are learning out of the new covenant passage we are studying weekly, stated most clearly in the verses we will look into tonight: “Therefore, since we have this ministry, as we received mercy, we do not lose heart, but we have renounced the things hidden because of shame, not walking in craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but by the manifestation of truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God” (2 Corinthians 4:1-2).

“Commending ourselves” is telling our story; “things hidden because of shame,” are the parts we want to leave out; and “walking in craftiness” is our tendency to not tell the whole story. Christians, of all people should have nothing to hide, and yet we seem the most given of anyone to edit our lives.

You have to splice DVD’s get the desired result, but try not to splice your life. The freedom of the new covenant is that God can and wants to use it all.

God wants us to change the world, and He has outlined for us, a very odd way of doing it. It’s backwards to everything that comes naturally to us.

This is Christ’s strategy for changing the world: by taking the last place in line, by offering your coat to the guy who wants to take your shirt, by turning your face to the person who just struck you, by going a second mile for the person who forced you to go one, by giving to the one who wants to borrow from you, by loving your enemies, by praying for those who persecute you, by not keeping a record of wrongs, by not seeking your own revenge, by doing good deeds in secret, by worshiping God in secret, by not making a public display of your religion, by not judging others, by treating everybody the way you would want to be treated, by taking the road less traveled, by desiring mercy and not sacrifice, by being sheep among wolves, by being like little children, by denying yourself and taking up your cross, by humbling yourself, by becoming a servant, and by seeking to be at peace with everyone. And this is by no means a complete list; it nevertheless is a good start.

People, we’ve got to focus our attention upon these things because they are an integral part of what Jesus came to teach us, and yet, because they run counter to human nature, they are almost impossible to do.

This is an election year in America, and I know for a fact that in American politics these attitudes are virtually non-existent, and yet Christians have never been more involved in politics in this country than they are now. How did we get here, by following the ways of the Lord or the ways of men? The question must be asked, by whose rules are we playing? You cannot use worldly tactics to gain spiritual results.

If we are getting ahead in society, how are we doing that? We can’t ask the Holy Spirit to empower what is based in the flesh. Are we relying on numbers, power, influence and prestige or are we relying on living as the Lord has taught us?

I do not have all the answers, but at least I know what the questions are, and I plan to keep asking them. Go back over Christ’s strategy and ask yourself what these things mean in your life through the decisions you have to make today and the things you will do. If the road you’re on is crowded, it may not be the right one.

Gordon, one of our readers, wrote me in response to yesterday’s Catch about my dining room table marked up by 12 years of my children’s homework with a story of his own from the 29 years he has professionally repaired furniture and other items damaged by movers.

Apparently the memories I wrote about that are imbedded in the markings on our table are affectionately called the “patina” of the wood – the wear of life that eventually becomes a part of the value of the piece.  And then he related a story about a 40-year old table that had been damaged by movers filling out inventory sheets on it and pressing through seven layers of copies. When the owners of the table reported that their children had done their homework on this table for years and never left a mark, Gordon gave the table a closer look and sure enough, it was as clean as a whistle minus the mover’s marks.

“Thankfully this occurred when we were pregnant with our first child,” he wrote. “When I left the customer’s house, I told myself ‘I will never do that to my children.'”

Gordon and his wife have gone on to have four boys. “We have had to patch holes in the walls, fix a broken leg on the sofa, and have learned to appreciate the general patina on the furniture and woodwork.”

I think it appropriate as we approach Easter celebrations to reflect on the general patina of the cross of Jesus Christ that our sins are responsible for. God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit had a pretty neat thing going on before we came along and messed everything up. Now Jesus knows every dent of our sin, and in fact, our patina has earned our relationship with Him. It is in the paying for our sins that Christ has become ours, and we have become His. It is why we have come to cherish the cross.

Gordon concluded, “Our relationship with our boys and our neighbors is more important than living in perfection.” Fortunately for all of us, God thinks the same thing.

For those of you in the Portland area who might be interested in Gordon’s services, check out his website at www.imagerestoration.com.

We have a dining room table impacted with memories. We had it made for us by an old-school craftsman when we lived in New England almost 30 years ago. It was made from soft pinewood and has had to be reinforced underneath over the years with two cracks running the whole length of the table. The soft wood gives it a grainy colonial feel and if you look across the face of the grain you can see the rows left by the hand plane of the wood maker. The soft wood also means it has absorbed every nick and blow that has been extended upon it over the years, and now, those marks have become its treasure – the most treasured of all being the marks left on it by twelve years of homework from our two oldest children, and yet to be left by Chandler.

At one time we were adamant about not having this happen. We constantly harped about making them put something under their papers so as to not mark up the table, but I can look right now around my laptop and find clear evidence that those warnings fell on deaf ears. Thank goodness they did, otherwise this tabletop wouldn’t have become the time capsule that it is today. If you look hard enough, you can find whole words or maybe a math formula imbedded in it.

If I look at it long enough and let my mind wander, I can easily be sitting here up past midnight with Christopher or Anne nodding over my shoulder, trying to stay awake while I type and edit their term paper which is undoubtedly due in the morning. Every scratch – every gouge – tells a different story. I wouldn’t lose this table for anything.

I wonder if somewhere in the mind of God there is a place where the indentions of our lives – even the liberties we have taken with His law – don’t play out fondly in His memory. Inasmuch as it is in the breaking His laws that we have come to know Him, this is true, at least for us. Not that we don’t love and respect His law, it’s just that it will never make us righteous, and yet it has led us to His grace. Somehow it is in the wood of our attempts to either follow Him or not that our transgressions are captured and meaningful simply because they are ours. He died for them all – the impressions imbedded in the grain of that wood, our treasure for eternity.

WE HAVE BECOME PURVEYORS OF A GOSPEL MESSAGE THAT WE OURSELVES DON’T NEED ANYMORE.

This may well be the most important sentence I have ever written, at least when it comes to speaking to Christians. Yesterday I had to put it in italicized caps just because I couldn’t write it loud enough. Today, from reading some of your comments I can see I need to keep saying it. And I will. And I will say it in as many ways as I can think of.

If you’ve ever been to an AA meeting you will notice that no one ever puts their struggle with alcohol in the past tense, even someone who’s been sober for 19 years. (I say that because you get a special coin commemorating your sobriety each year as a milestone. I said 19 because someone once gave me their 19-year sobriety coin to keep. I still have it. I thought it was one of the greatest honors I’ve ever received. I felt like he had given me a million dollars. How can you put a price on a 19-year struggle? But that person would also be quick to tell me that they are struggling with alcohol right now, today, just as much as they ever were. The moment they think that struggle is behind them is the moment they will fall.)

The moment we think our struggle with sin is behind us is the moment we will fall. The moment we rest on being saved yesterday is the moment we will miss what we need to be saved from today.

Those of you who have attended a lot of churches know that in some denominations there is a tradition of providing for an “altar call” after the sermon. This is a time when people can respond to the message by coming forward for prayer. They may be coming for salvation or to “rededicate their life to Christ” or for prayer for a certain need, but it is a means of a humble response to hearing the truth. It might just be saying, “This message touched me deeply and I want to find out why.” Though I think it’s been abused in many ways, I don’t think it is a bad practice at all, but I think there is a way pastors could make it better.

Here’s what I think: I think if every pastor went down front for prayer after his or her own sermon, we would be a stronger church. It would be a continual statement that the pastor needs the message as much as the church does.

For all the pastors in the Catch, it’s my challenge to you. Give an altar call Sunday and then go forward. Let someone else close the service. Get down there and do whatever it is you would want your congregation to do after hearing you preach, and let us know what happens.

Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. (1 Timothy 1:15)

It’s not until we are striped clean of pride, pretense, and presumption that anyone will see God in our lives. It’s not until others see that we are sinners in need of salvation that they will ever have even the slightest inkling that they might need it too.

This is what consistently goes wrong with our Christian message and why the world continually sees Christians as hypocrites and bigots, and why they are so consistently turned off to our message: WE HAVE BECOME PURVEYORS OF A GOSPEL MESSAGE THAT WE OURSELVES DON’T NEED ANYMORE. (Sorry, but I had to write it as loud as I could.) It’s as if our message is, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners of which you are the worst.”

“To be sure, I needed Christ once, back then when I was a really bad sinner,” we say in so many words, though we may be unaware of saying it like this. “Now that I’m a Christian, I’ve petty much got it together, but I can see that you don’t. You are where I once was – you are a pretty rotten sinner – you obviously need Jesus.” Now answer me: Who wants to be around someone proclaiming that kind of message?

Doesn’t anybody see what’s wrong with these messages? They are messages that contradict the gospel. We talk as if we all need the gospel, until we get into church. Once we’re saved and in a church, well, we don’t need the gospel anymore. How quickly we forget.

“You foolish Galatians, who has bewitched you, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified? This is the only thing I want to find out from you: did you receive the Spirit by the works of the Law, or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh” (Galatians 3:1-4)?

In other words, what are you saying? Thanks for dying for me Jesus, but I can take it from here?

This is the biggest of all evangelical veils: You need to be saved.

Come on you guys, let’s fess up here: We’ve got to be saved every day from ourselves. We are the sinners who need Jesus. We are the ones who don’t have it together. We are the ones for whom Christ died… and we need to know that right now, and we’ll need it tomorrow. It’s such a simple message.