The God who Forgets

Some time ago, my dad asked me if I could remember the times when he was angry with me. After a silent moment or two, I think I said something like; “maybe, but probably not.” I think the reason for my memory lapse is because we desire to remember the good things about our parents, friends, and colleagues.

Though Jesus’ closest friends performed some outrageous and hurtful acts against Him, He chose to forget them (John 21) so their relationship may remain strong. This is just one of the things God chose to do when He took on skin and bone and moved into the neighborhood.

As we prepare for the coming of Christmas, can we welcome a God like this?

Turning Disabilities into Diffabilities

It is not surprising that a husband does things differently than his wife. But their unique work is equally required to raise a family. As I think about my parents, mom has long been responsible for managing the money, whereas dad’s job is to earn it. In the kitchen, mom’s role is to make most of the meals and dad’s is to clean up afterwards. Diffabilities is my term for confidently completing an action differently rather than feeling a need to do things the same way as those you admire. As a visually impaired person (V.I.P.) I have needed to learn different ways of completing routine tasks. For instance, the driver of a car in the H.O.V. lane is no more important than the passenger sitting in the next seat over. If I need to know, or not, I am learning to ask more questions so that new insight might be realized. And, whether it is for visual reasons or otherwise, I finish tasks slowly so they may be done well, once. If mom and dad did not have these diffabilities, and passed them on to their kids, delicious meals would not be made, dirty dishes might just remain in the sink and it might take an extra long time to get to work.

It Isn’t You

This Friday, many of us will remember Jesus, as he led his disciples in the first Communion, the night before he would be crucified. If we can believe this, I think Jesus was more compassionate to them than we often make him out to be.

Many of us, myself included, have celebrated communion knowing that we are sinners and need forgiveness. That’s right, we are, and we need to eat the Lord’s Supper for our cleansing and sustenance. But it was a regular Passover meal and the disciples believed that this Passover would be no different. They knew what they would be celebrating.

Because Jesus was never condemning of anyone who had true faith, his followers believed that his words this evening would be no different. Because they all had true faith, right?

Just as Jesus acted among his disciples and the crowd, he criticized no one except for the self-righteous who ‘knew’ that they did not need communion to be cleansed. And there was no one like that here, right?

But according to Matthew 26, after they reclined at the table, and had already drunk a few glasses of wine and eaten a few loaves of bread, Jesus said, “one of you will betray me.” The disciples’ mouths fell open, and some of them must have thought, “Is Jesus drunk?”

Jesus continued, “One who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.” (Matthew 26:23-24)

As they realized that their teacher was serious, but did not condemn any of them, a silence fell and the finger pointing stopped.

As we might expect, “[the disciples] were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, ‘Surely you don’t mean me, Lord?’” (Matthew 26:22) I encourage you, for just a minute, ask the Lord that question.

--------------------------------30 seconds or so-------------------------------------------------------

As the disciples, each in turn, asked Jesus weather they were the one, I believe Jesus answered each of them individually, “No, Peter it isn’t you.” “No, Thomas, it isn’t you.” “No, Matthew, it isn’t you.”

As you partake of our Lord’s generosity, insert your name here “No, David, it’s not you.” “No, Mike, it’s not you.” “No, Kim, it’s not you.” “No, ______, it isn’t you.” Satan had picked Judas to do the dirty deed, and only one person was and ever will be needed.

Weather you remember the death of our Lord Jesus by yourself, in pairs, or a group, come, receive the gift of God. Tare off some bread and dip it in the grape juice. Pass the bread and wine down the aisles. Or as I did by myself as an elementary student, eat your peanut butter and jam sandwich with a juice box, and remember. Then, as the lunch bell rings, you may leave knowing that as far as Jesus is concerned, it isn’t you, and it never will be.

The Heaviest Emotion

When I was at university, I would hear well-intentioned, married staff members talk about how singleness is a gift. But at the same time, you could hear a tinge of ‘poor you’ in their voices as they empathically looked at us, hoping that we would not remain this way for much longer. I was not impressed. “Sure,” I thought, “maybe singleness is a gift. But if this is true, then loneliness must be a gift as well.”

At around this time I concluded that I was satisfied with the single life … 360 days a year. Except for days like February 14, December 31, December 24 and one’s birthday, I was alright with my marital status.

This is not a blog to solve the problems of single men and women, because we have no problems. We just need encouragement, someone to change the subject now and then and a helping hand because loneliness is the heaviest emotion. And at one point or another, everyone needs to carry it.