Last Christmas

So last night Mrs. Wine and I watched a film neither of us had seen before called Last Christmas. We stumbled upon it a bit humorously: Mrs. Wine despises the Christmas song of the same name and while teasing her I came across the film. I played the trailer thinking it would have said song playing on an endless background loop but instead, we both thought, ‘Hey, this looks like a good movie.’ And it was a good movie. But more than a good movie, the film portrayed a character who was the most Christlike figure I’ve seen in cinema in a very long time.

Last Christmas is about a family of Yugoslavian refugees living in London. Specifically, it is about the daughter Katarina (Kate) who had what they thought was a promising singing career that was derailed when she became seriously ill. After surgery and a significant time in the hospital, she finally was “okay.”

However, since that time, she has been far from okay. Kate works as an “elf” in a year-round Christmas store in London. She is functionally homeless: every night she goes to a bar, gets very drunk, and then goes home with a complete stranger. In that way, she has a bed. She had been living with different friends but one by one, those bridges were burned by her destructive behavior of drinking and sleeping around.

While at work one day she meets the mysterious Tom Webster. He takes an interest in her and keeps wanting to take her on a stroll (his idea of a date). At first, she isn’t interested: he isn’t her type. Namely, he seems to have his life together while Kate’s life is a mess. Eventually, she concedes and they go on a stroll (clip below):

This clip is a good summary of everything I just talked about. You see Kate, suitcase in tow, agreeing to go on a date with him at night. She is hoping it will end with her having a place to stay but instead, Tom takes her to a bus where she goes home–the first step in a process of healing for her.

On their date, he continually tells her to look up and follow him and takes her to a secret garden where he proceeds to tell her about the failures and struggles of the other people in the garden and then lets her know that she is “one of them” now.

Thus begins a most unlikely courtship for films these days. Kate’s relationship with Tom completely changes her with the point of serious change coming from a moment of total honesty from her: after the surgery that saved her life, instead of being okay as everyone told her she would be, she feels “half alive.” At the end of this conversation, Kate tries to get Tom to go to bed with her but he refuses.

After this, Kate is completely changed (not immediately, but gradually. And as she changes, you can tell she is being healed in her mind and spirit. She begins volunteering at a homeless shelter. Her relationship with her boss and work ethic change following a suggestion from Tom to try being nice to her boss. She mends things with her estranged sister and parents. She makes up with her friends by restoring the property she had destroyed when her life was out of control. The culmination of all of this comes when she goes to a bar one evening and is drinking. The scene is set up like the start of the film, but when a stranger comes up to her and offers to buy her a drink, she declines and leaves the bar alone. By the end of the film, Kate has found contentment with her life. She is happy with her job at the Christmas store and has decided to pause auditioning for shows.

I’ll try to not spoil the film by leaving out some key details about the ending and who (or what) is Tom.

As I mentioned at the start, Tom is the most Christ-like figure I’ve seen in cinema in some time. I say this for several reasons: he urges her to mend relationships, he isn’t afraid to call out her destructive sleeping habits, he encourages her to be kind to people who are rude to her, and repeatedly tells her to “look up” and find wonder in the world that surrounds her. The way of life he tries to introduce her to leads Kate to dedicate her life to serving the hopeless and building a community for them.

But my ah-ha moment came when Tom was still pursuing Kate and trying to get her to go on a date. Kate understood they weren’t compatible. Tom obviously had his life “together” and Kate clearly did not. What did he see in her?

What does God see in me? Why does he relentlessly pursue sinners? What is it about the faithless, highly imperfect church, that makes God stand by her and call her his bride?

There is a concept in our culture called “marrying up.” Men will often say they “married up” meaning they don’t deserve their wife. We, the body of Christ, have “married up.” We don’t deserve him. And yet here he is, repeatedly appearing in our lives, encouraging us to follow him, look up, and love us when we are a hopeless wreck. Thinking about it is as confusing as watching someone who “has it together” pursue a messed-up person. And in the film Last Christmas, that is exactly what happens–and the love completely transforms and heals Kate. I doubt I’ll watch it again but in terms of a beautiful betrayal of redeeming love, it is at the top of my list of recommended films.

Let’s get political, political

I’ve been working my way through Ken Bailey’s Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes (which I highly recommend). He had a section on Luke 13 which helped expand my view of this passage, and the mission of Jesus. I thought I’d share my conclusions with you.

Luke 13:1-3 tells a troubling tale: “There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. ² And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? ³ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.“

In the past, I’ve always used this (and the following verses) as a biblical demonstration that God does not see some sin differently from others. However, Dr. Bailey drew my attention to the heinous situation described in verse 1, and the expectation of what the Messiah would do. Namely, the Messiah would be a political force: he would liberate the people of God. The land that Jesus lived in was an occupied land. Roman controlled it and overtaxed it to support its wars and culture that was in total opposition to God’s will. Luke 13:1 is a raw picture of what that occupation looked like.

Some Galileans had made the biblically required journey to Jerusalem for the Passover. While in the Temple offering sacrifices, some Roman troops (for whatever reason) decided to slaughter them so that their blood was mingled with the blood of their sacrificial offerings.

Think about that: they are celebrating the sacred festival of Passover that is a celebration of God liberating the Jews from their slavery to the Egyptians. While offering their sacrifices, in the Temple no less, Romans troops (who now control the Jews and their land) decide to slaughter some of the pilgrims.

The Jews were yearning for the liberator God promised them. He would defeat the oppressors and restore the kingdom to Israel. Even Jesus’ closest disciples expected him to do this–hence their question to Jesus after the resurrection. They aren’t expressing astonishment at his resurrection but wanting to know if now, finally, he is going to restore the kingdom to Israel (Acts 1:6). And here, in Luke 13 in bringing this question up to Jesus they are placing the question very clearly before him: what are you going to do about the Romans?

Jesus’ response is just as shocking: unless you repent you will perish just like those Galileans (13:3).

Jesus was (and is) the Messiah but his mission was not to be a political force and liberate the people of God from political oppression but to save them from their sins (Matthew 1:21).

I think in our present times (at least in America) this raises several relevant questions:

1. Do you believe Jesus is the Messiah?
2. Do you take your sins and forgiveness seriously?
3. Are you hoping for a political Messiah?
4. Do you care more about forgiveness and salvation or a political change in the country?

So here we are two thousand years after Jesus died and rose from the dead and I think there are a lot of people in America who consider themselves Christian but are still stuck in Luke 13:1. They are in essence saying, “Jesus, did you hear about the terrible things happening to our country? Did you hear the horrible thing X Politician said? Did you see the terrible law Y Politician proposed? Jesus, did you hear about [insert the most extreme, shocking example you can think of like they did in Luke 13:1]? Jesus, what are you going to do about it?

To which Jesus responds, “What am I going to do? Do you think you’re somehow better than they are? Do you not realize what a terrible sinner you are? If you don’t repent, you will perish. The problem isn’t what political party is in office or what politician is doing something offensive. The problem is inside of you. Why are you so concerned about the political direction of this country when you are on the broad path that leads to destruction?”

Cogs in the Administrative Machinery

In the 1960s, the New Yorker commissioned the Jewish Nazi escapee Hannah Arendt to journey to Jerusalem to cover the trial of Adolf Eichmann. Afterward, she wrote a book reflecting on that experience where she wrote, “The essence of a totalitarian government, and perhaps the nature of every bureaucracy, is to make functionaries and mere cogs in the administrative machinery out of men, and thus to dehumanize them.”

Approximately twenty years earlier, CS Lewis wrote a book called The Screwtape Letters. Now, this is a book I recommend every believer should read at least once every three years. In the preface to the book (which he dedicated to his dear friend Tolkien!) Lewis wrote “I live in the Managerial Age, in a world of ‘Admin.’ The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid “dens of crime” that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voices. Hence, naturally enough, my symbol for Hell is something like the bureaucracy of a police state or the office of a thoroughly nasty business concern.”

Currently, one of the books I am reading is Selwyn Raab’s Five Families: The Rise, Decline, and Resurgence of America’s Most Powerful Mafia Empires. This book has been on my radar for a long while and I’m definitely enjoying it. One (among many) things I learned appears at the start of chapter 12.

“Two freshman senators wanted the prize. It would be an enviable plum: investigating organized crime.

The competitors were Estes Kefauver of Tennessee and Joseph R. McCarthy of Wisconsin. Both were groping in 1950 for the politically hot issue that would get them national headlines….Since Kefauver’s party, the Democrats, controlled the Senate, he outmaneuvered the Republican McCarthy for appointment as chairman of a special subcommittee to investigate interstate ‘gambling and racketeering activities.’

As a consolation, McCarthy found another provocative subject: probing Communist influence in the government.” (p. 96).

Fascinating, and frightening, how the course of history hinges on bureaucracy and the assignment to a committee.

One in a Million

Good Friday has always held a special place in my heart. I can remember when I was still new to the faith, even on the fence and spectating more than believing, sneaking off from work to a Good Friday service (I used to work Friday nights) before heading back after its conclusion.

It was my favorite service when I was a pastor.

We had plans to attend one tonight and see my sister and niece sing in their choir but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. However, it didn’t happen for a good reason: we rather unexpectedly ended up with another dog for our family! That is a story for another time.

What I wanted to write about today, however, was the ordinary nature of the crucifixion.

There was nothing extraordinary about Jesus’ crucifixion. I know it can seem that way. When I thnk about it in my own personal devotions, it is very easy to picture only Jesus on the cross. Crucifixes adorn walls around the globe, but the crucifix isn’t simply depicting a generic victim, but Jesus.

Crucifixion happened all the time in ancient Rome.

There is a scene in The Chosen when Jesus and the disciples are entering a city and as they enter it there are people along the road who have been crucified. Everyone is passing by as if it is no big deal–because it wasn’t. Jesus pauses as if he is considering their fate and his future.

There is much I appreciate about the scene but on Good Friday there is one point I’d like to make: Rome crucified people every day.

When the rebellion of Spartacus was put down, 6,000 people were crucified in a day.

During the Jewish rebellion of 71 AD 500 people were crucified a day for months.

Why should it matter then, that one day in Jerusalem, several criminals were crucified including an itinerant rabbi?

Because that rabbi was not just any other man. And it was impossible for death to hold him.

Thou Shall Not Kill

As parents, Mrs. Wine and I feel it is very important to speak loudly into the lives of our children when it comes to reinforcing our worldview. We recognize this isn’t simply brainwashing or removing the ability of our kids to “choose their own path” but rather, we are in competition with all of the other voices that speak into their lives.

So we do this in a variety of ways. They attend a private, Christian school. We attend and are involved in church. We have family devotions and other, intentional, moments of addressing faith and life. We pray daily as a family. Stuff like that.

One thing we try to do–but not as well as I’d like–is get ahead of the culture and speak to them first about things, providing a biblical perspective on whatever the hottest trend is in society. You can’t “shield” them from it–it is impossible. So we try to “break the news” to them first. Sometimes this works; sometimes we’re the ones surprised by what they already know.

Strange World is a movie on Disney that they keep asking to watch. We keep telling them that’s fine, but we need to talk about some elements of it first. Later, while mentally going over what I’d say to them I suddenly found myself thinking about violence. We watch Star Wars. We’ve started watching Marvel movies. How many people have they seen virtually die, I wondered, and I never stopped to point discuss that murder is a sin?

One of their favorite shows is Nicky, Ricky, Dicky, and Dawn. The show follows the adventures of four quadruplets. Basically, in every show, they do something they know they shouldn’t do. Then lie about it. The lie causes more problems so they lie some more until it blows up and they have to admit the truth. While our children know lying is a sin and why the truth matters, I’ve never discussed lying with them before watching a show that features liars.

It seems like, after so many years of trying to make grace a priority in my life–experiencing it, sharing it, teaching it, modeling it–I still excel at something more than anything else: being selective in what sins matter.

If the wages of sin is death, then it doesn’t matter what the sin is you’re guilty of–the consequence remains the same as does the solution. As I used to tell people if you swim 50 feet from shore and drown or 1,000 feet from shore and drown who is the worse swimmer? It doesn’t matter because both swimmers are dead.

We will still speak to them about Strange World because it is important to do so. But it is also important to not limit conversations to things our particular culture cares about while ignoring the things God has made clear matter.

Word for Word Bible Comic

No clever title this time. I just want to get right into it. I can’t remember how I found it, but I discovered the Word for Word Bible Comics on Amazon and my local library had copies. I’ve been reading my way through The Gospel of Luke. The concept is that they illustrate a book of the Bible and every text is directly from the NIV. So when you read one of the graphic novels, you are actually reading a book of the Bible.

At the back of the graphic novel, they have a number of articles on the book which, together, make a bit of a mini-commentary.

It has been a very rich and rewarding spiritual experience for me to read through Luke. I can’t tell you how many elements of the gospel story I have either seen in a new light, or remembered why it caught my attention in the first place.

Consider these pictures from what may be one of my favorite stories in any of the gospels Luke 7:36-50. The below is from verses 41-42.

While Jesus is telling the parable to Simon the Pharisee, the artist illustrates the story. It is one cell and from the perspective of the moneylender. Notice the detail of what word the moneylender is writing over the ledger: tetelestai. This Greek word shows up in John 19:30 when Jesus proclaims, “It is finished” right before expiring on the cross.

In the context of Jesus’ life and times, the word tetelestai is used in commercial situations. From archeological digs, we have receipts with the word tetelestai written on them which means the bill has been paid in full.

The word means something much more significant than a commercial transaction for Christians: it is a reminder that the debt of all of our sins has been paid for by the death of Jesus. This small detail by the artist really enriches the moment of the Gospel.

The graphic novel is filled with moments like this. I really recommend checking out these adaptations.

The challenge of saying no

It is hard to say no to people. For most of my professional life, I’ve had a job where telling someone no is a regular part of my responsibilities. After years of doing it, sometimes multiple times daily, it never got easier.

I was thinking about this while reading Matthew 15:21-28: And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.” He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

As I was reading this I was struck by the thought that it seems like Jesus is trying to talk himself out of helping this woman. He won’t answer her. When his disciples beg him to send her away, he assures them he is only there for Israel. But he doesn’t leave and he doesn’t send her away. Why not? Instead, he lets her keep talking and he continues to listen to her. Finally, he begins to speak with her and it isn’t long before he not only gives in; he praises her faith.

It seems like Jesus wants to tell her no–but he can’t. He can’t say no.

You’re Invited

I have spent a lot of time over the years with certain verses. They speak to me more than others. They also provided wisdom in difficult situations when I was pastoring. One such verse is Luke 23:42-43. Much can be said of the verse, but I don’t want to get sidetracked here but so let me try to narrow it down to this point: it has been a great comfort to me and others over the years. Why? Because it is such a powerful and simple illustration of the rich mercy of God.

As I have been cautioned and have cautioned people against over the years, we can only work with what the text says. That is, we must avoid reading into the text things that are not there or may not be there. All we know about this thief is he asks Jesus to remember him. The thief doesn’t even call Jesus lord or Lord, simply Jesus.

Through this past decade, I have ruminated on this verse, worrying at it like a tongue continually pushes against a sore tooth as I wondered at the mercy of God. The thief doesn’t follow any of the formulas for faith: a convicted criminal, sentenced to death, simply asks Jesus to remember him in the kingdom and Jesus responds with the assurance that he will not only remember the thief but bring him into paradise.

What do you do with that?

Find comfort in it. And comfort others. I turned to this story more than any others when I would be in a living room or hospital room with loved ones and someone dear to them had just died. They didn’t know if that person had faith and feared the worst and the question would be raised, “Do you think he/she is in heaven?”

I would always answer honestly: “Our God is very merciful. There is a story of a thief, convicted to death, and as he was dying he asked Jesus to remember him and Jesus promised him paradise.” That answer never failed to bring peace to the afflicted.

I was watching Alistair Begg this morning and this video popped up so I watched it because the title caught my eye and it was short. I won’t lie: it made me cry. I hope it brings you such comfort.

Almost Heaven

I was listening to my acoustic/bluegrass playlist the other day and a song came on, which I first heard in O Brother Where Art Thou (an excellent movie). I stopped what I was doing to listen to the music. It seems to me that, when it comes to heaven, there is no song that better describes my hope for what Revelation 21-22 will be like.

The New Heavens and New Earth may be described as a city, but I sure hope Mt. Zion is like the Big Rock Candy Mountain.

Chasing After Wind

Years ago I was at a conference where one of my heroes of the faith, Don Carson, was asked about what to do with Christian works by people who apostatized. He said they should be burned. The reason is people young or new in the faith, may start studying them, then learn where the author went theologically, and assume it is okay.

For a long time, I agreed.

I started rethinking it when I recommended the music of Gungor to a friend. They responded that they didn’t listen to them because they’d heard the lead singer had left the faith or something like that.

I responded well he definitely went through some kind of crisis, I wasn’t sure where he was now but that didn’t mean he wasn’t saved or God was done with him. And their album, Beautiful Things, had some extremely beautiful and deeply biblical songs. They didn’t respond. The conversation was over.

Have you ever heard of the Trinity? Or, lowercase, trinity? The term was first popularized (or created) by Tertullian. One of the early church fathers, known as the “founder of western theology.”

Here’s the thing: later in his life he went in a wonky direction and joined a sect known as the Montanists. They were later deemed to be heretics.

But no orthodox believer would dream of not using the word trinity to describe the Triune God. All truth is God’s truth. The truth doesn’t belong to the individual, they are just a vessel God has used to distribute his light (2 Corinthians 4:7). It’s the message, not the messenger. And no messenger is perfect.

If I had the pleasure of meeting the good Dr. Carson (again), I wouldn’t tell him I disagreed with him. I’d thank him for the invaluable truth he had communicated so clearly for so many years and what a difference he had made in my life.