Every story whispers His name

"Wait a minute, Jesus is in the Old Testament?"

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle and think, "Where have you been these last three months?" You see, since the beginning of August, our Kingdom Kids class has been scouring the Old Testament stories for signs of the promised Messiah. For 12 weeks, we've bent our ears and listened for whispers of Christ in the stories of Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, and David. How had this child missed what we had been emphasizing for so long? I was about to let out a sigh of frustration, when I realized it was not a lack of listening that had prompted the question; but rather, it was a moment of recognition. Jesus is in the Old Testament, as well as the New.

This is a truth that even many adults miss. I was part of a conversation about curriculum when a woman spoke, "Why do we spend so much time studying the stories of the Old Testament? We should stick to teaching about Christ because he's the one who saves us." She's right that Christ should be at the center of our teaching and preaching, but she was mistaken in thinking that the Old Testament was not about Jesus.

Jesus is the one who would crush the head of the lying serpent and clear the way back to the Tree of Life. He would be the ark that saves the people from the flood of God's wrath. He would come from the seed of Abraham and bring blessing to the whole world. Like Joseph, Jesus would be punished even though he had done nothing wrong. Like Moses, he would release the captives from bondage and lead them safely to the Promised Land. He would be the Passover lamb that was slain so that his blood would cover the people. He would be the mediator between God and man. He would be the true Yeshua who would remind the people that "Yahweh saves." He would be the son of David, a king whose kingdom would never end. He would be the fulfillment of the temple, God's dwelling with man. He would be the suffering servant, the stump of Jesse, and the holy branch. He would love his wayward wife, Israel, as Hosea bought back the prostitute, Gomer. He would descend into darkness, like Jonah, and emerge three days later.

No, Emmanuel had not yet been born, and no, the Word had not yet become flesh, but Christ inhabits the Old Testament as well as the New. As Sally Lloyd Jones puts it in The Jesus Storybook Bible,

"There are lots of stories in the Bible but all the stories are telling one big Story - the Story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them. It takes the whole Bible to tell this story and at the center of the story, there is a baby. Every story in the Bible whispers His name. He is like the missing piece of a puzzle, the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together and suddenly, you can see a beautiful picture."

I also like how Timothy Keller puts it in this video:



Today marks the start of the Advent season. Journey with me through the stories of the Old Testament as we prepare for Christ's coming.

Eternity is calling

This is something I wrote a couple of years ago and felt it would be appropriate to resurrect in light of beginning a new year of Wednesday night care groups.

It's Wednesday night, and I'm in my Chevy Cavalier cruising down Highway 86 with windows down and music up. My eyes keep drifting away from the road to the beautiful sunset on my left. Through the speakers come the words of one of my favorite Rich Mullins' songs, "there's more that rises in the morning than the sun, and more that shines in the night than just the moon..." In the deep vibrations of the song, eternity is calling.

I am a traveler and my journey has taken me to the Proctor's house for Bible study. I enter the red, barn-like house and am greeted with open arms and warm smiles. The smell wafting from the kitchen draws me in where I fill a cup with cold lemonade and pile warm cookies onto a napkin. In the invitation to draw further up and further in, I hear eternity calling.

Carrying my newly acquired snacks, I make my way back into the living room and nestle down in the couch. After a brief time of fellowship, our evening officially commences with the singing of hymns. We flip through the well-worn pages and sing as Mark plays the guitar. I hear the faint echo of voices long past. Together our voices converge and I am ushered out of time; eternity is calling.

The singing ends, we put up our hymnals, and pick up our Bibles. Opening to 1 Corinthians, we divide up the number of verses equally and read aloud one chapter, "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." Oh how I both fear and long to be known fully! Eternity is calling.

It is now time for prayer. With heads bowed and eyes closed we see clearly the suffering of the world. We pray for sick people, hurting people, and those in prison. We, ourselves, are sick, hurting and imprisoned. We ache for deliverance. The individual prayer requests are enveloped by the silent cry of our souls, "Come Lord Jesus, come!" Eternity is calling.

My departure looms menacingly in my mind as I notice the clock. But I stick around, hoping to sip every ounce of the sweetness from this evening. The conversation moves to casual. We talk about sports, music and entertainment. Everyday things; Sacred things. But now the time has come to leave, so reluctantly I rise to my feet and say my goodbyes. In the longing to stay and the impulse to go, eternity is calling.

I open the door, and walk toward my car. On the way, my eyes gravitate upward where I see the stars blanketing the night sky; little beacons of light in the darkness. A tear trickles down my cheek, and I remember the words to the Rich Mullins' song, "If I weep, let it be as a man who is longing for his home." It seems so far away, yet it is so near.

I can hear it, can you? Eternity is calling.

Wasps and Fear

Yesterday, as I was leaving the church, I spotted a speckled moth on the sidewalk. Wanting to capture this extraordinary creature on film, I hopped over to my car, opened the door, and grabbed my camera. Enamored by the beautiful bug, I forgot to close the door.

After satisfying my curiosity with pictures, I returned to my car, set my crutches aside, and started to step in. That's when I saw it: a small, formidable flying insect with a narrow stalk connecting its thorax and abdomen. My failure to remain guarded had made passage for a wasp to sneak into my car. It arose and hovered over my backseat like a wall cloud, waiting for the opportune moment to drop its stinger into my skin. I shut the door, and scurried a safe distance away. Maybe I can call someone to come pick me up. But then I realized that my phone was being held captive in the wasp's new lair. I would have to lure the creature out. Timidly, I approached the car and opened the door, hoping the fearsome insect would voluntarily abandon his stuffy stronghold for the open air. Then I waited.

For as long as I can remember, I've been terrified of wasps. My fear may stem from a childhood experience in which my older brother was stung on the ear and had an allergic reaction. On that day, I learned that even the strong could be weakened by this small yet menacing creature. But knowing the source of my fear has not diminished it.

Sweat was starting to form on my brow as I waited for the wasp to emerge. There was movement. The wasp made its way toward the open door. Just a little bit farther... Yes! It's out! I raced to slide into my seat but, taking advantage of my handicap, the wasp flew in before I could close the door. So, out I hobbled and continued to wait.

When I was eight years old, my friend Isaac and I used to spend the afternoon catching butterflies. When Isaac suggested we catch wasps instead, I was quick to find an alibi in his little brother. Feigning concern for the well being of this mere babe, I took Toby by the hand and got outta dodge quicker than a fugitive running from the law.

And now my arch enemy had returned, taking up residency in the only vehicle that could transport me home. Maybe I'll just walk home. Enclose my fear in the locked car and hope it suffocates. Avoid it for now, and maybe it will be dead when I return. I even took a few steps in that direction before realizing how ridiculous my plan was. The trek was over a mile, up and down hills, and I was on crutches. Oh, what great lengths I will go in order to avoid that which I fear!

But no. I would stay. The next time my nemesis showed his face, I would shut the door with my crutch and wait for him to fly away. And that's eventually what happened. The wasp flew out, the door shut, and I waited until the coast was clear before entering my vehicle. But as I drove away, the wasp made one last appearance at my windshield. With the security of the shield between us, I let out a little laugh, mocking my Fear. It hovered as if to say, "You haven't seen the last of me yet! Until we meet again..." I shuttered and drove home, glad for the reprieve but aware that though I had won the battle, I had not yet won the war.

Now, if only wasps were the worst of my fears...

Student of the Week: Logan Ruzic

"You know what's amazing?" I stopped what I was doing and looked up at the 9-year old pensively studying the picture of the world in his hands. "The earth is round...right?... The people on the bottom and sides don't fall off."

Ah, to marvel like a child...

The originator of this quote and our student of the week is Logan Ruzic. On Wednesday nights before church, I get to hang out with Logan. We play kickball, build dams, track any number of creatures (birds, lizzards, worms, etc.), and invent new designs for paper airplanes. In everything Logan does, life spills out of him. And as the statement at the beginning of this post illustrates, Logan is just as full of insight as he is adventure. He sees the world with wide-eyed wonder and is teaching me to do the same. Thanks Logan, for teaching me to marvel and filling me with abundant life.

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Here's an interview I recently had with Logan:

What are some of your favorite things to do?
play sports

What are some of your favorite sports?
kickball, football, wrestling

If you discovered a planet, what would you name it?
I don't really know because it depends on what it looks like and how big it is and stuff like that.

What if it was a big planet?
Planet Bigster

What if it was really small?
Smallter

What if it was on fire?
That would be pretty much like the sun, so I would call it "Sun."

What's your favorite food?
Cornish Hen

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you like to go and why?
I used to want to go to Africa, but now I want to go to Egypt so I can dig up some gold and rubies and stuff like that.

What's your favorite song?
It's by Jason Gray, on his first CD All The Lovely Losers #7, "I'm Not Going Down"

What was the last book you read?
Jigsaw Jones Private Eye: The Case of the Christmas Snowman. It has 74 pages.

What's your favorite word?
I don't know what the word is, but it's this big science word that has 2,000 some letters in it. It looks like a paragraph, and it's the longest word in history.

What's your favorite Bible story?
the story of the 10 plagues

The Greatest

They all saw the basin. It sat quietly in a corner, as the disciples vied for chief seats.

"I call dibs next to Jesus," Simon the Zealot cried out.

"Hey, we already called those seats!" exclaimed James and John in unison.

"No you didn't. your mom did, and besides, if we're recalling firsts, I believe I was the first disciple that Jesus called," Andrew was quick to point out.

"Well, first is worst and second is best. Jesus told me that I was the rock upon which he was going to build his church."

"Yeah, Pete, but he also called you Satan. I think that cancels out the whole 'rock' thing."

"But I walked on water," Peter said defending himself.

"Okay, so maybe I was wrong. You were a rock; at least you sunk like one!"

"Very funny, I don't recall you standing next to Jesus when his face was transfigured and he talked with Elijah and Moses."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, brother, but you would have never even known Jesus had I not taken you to him. And speaking of taking things to Jesus...who was it that brought to him the boy with five loaves and two fish? Five thousand people were fed because of what I did."

"Jesus turned to me when he wanted to know where we would find bread for all the people to eat," Phillip said, joining in the argument.

"Don't kid yourselves. If you guys wouldn't have been there, we all know that Jesus could have rained down bread from heaven. He could have turned stones to bread if he wanted. Greatness isn't measured by what you do, but by what Jesus says of you. When Jesus saw me, he said, 'Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false.' Boy, he sure did know what he was talking about," Nathanael interjected.

"If we're discussing names, it should be pointed out that we're called the 'Sons of Thunder.' Now that is a name that resounds with greatness."

"Yeah, but did Jesus ever eat dinner at your house with all your friends?"

"There's no way I'm letting a tax collector in above me. You may be use to handling people's money, but Jesus wasn't about to let some swindling tax collector be his treasurer. He entrusted that job to one who was a dependable steward of money, like me." With that, Iscariot, took the chief seat at Jesus' right hand.

As they elbowed and shoved their way to the front, Jesus slowly walked toward the basin. With the soft murmer of the disciples' argument echoing about the room, Jesus took off his outer clothes, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into the basin. The room fell silent. One-by-one, the Lord washed his disciples' filthy feet. They all saw the basin, but only one took up the towel.

Shooting Arrows

When I teach, I am an archer, shooting words like arrows in hopes that one will strike home. But sometimes none do. The words whiz over the heads of their intended targets. I fire one sentence after another. "The Israelites spread the blood of the lamb over the doorway," I say. And kids rustle in their seats. So I fire again, "It was the blood from a perfect, spotless lamb." Blank stares. Better fire from a different angle, "Jesus was called the lamb of God." There's a hint of recognition, so I continue, "When the blood of the lamb covered the doorway to the house, Death could not enter." Slowly a child on the front row raises his hand. "This is it," I think. My heart starts to rise, "Yes?..." "What time do we get out of here?" My heart plummets. At this point, my supply is depleted, and I walk away from the class time without any indication that the word of God penetrated to dividing soul and Spirit, joints and marrow.

But every once in a while, an arrow pricks a child's heart. Last Wednesday night happened to be one of those times.

We were watching a video clip from The Visual Bible: Matthew in which Jesus heals a leper (Mt. 8:2-4). The scene starts with the leper approaching Jesus. He falls down on his knees and cries out, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." The disciples reflexively cover their faces and turn away in order to avoid contamination. But Jesus walks toward the leper. The disciples look on in bewilderment as Jesus unwraps the bandages and gently touches the man's face, "I am willing. Be clean!" At that moment, with Jesus' touch, the leper is healed.

The video clip ended, and I began to explain to the class that Jesus used his hands to welcome those whom no one else would. He touched mud to a blind sinner's eyes. He ate with tax collectors. He blessed children. He washed his disciple's dirty feet. Jesus touched the sick, the dirty, and the unclean. I was about to move on when a young boy's voice stopped me. Our eyes met, and he asked, "Why would he do that?"

The question hung in the air suspended by the silence that filled the room. The rest of the students scooted to the edge of their seats, and I knew this boy had spoken their hearts' longing as well. The class was a silent chorus pleading, "Tell us it's true." The arrow had penetrated.

So I told them. I told them that the reason Jesus welcomed these outcasts was because He loved them; God loves them. Jesus was sad they were sick and shunned. He wanted them to be made whole and well. And it was His touch that brought this healing. It was His touch that made the polluted, pure. And it is His touch that will make us clean, as well. It's true. And in that moment, with 40 kids leaning in, the arrow pierced my own heart as well. It is true, and I believed it.

But maybe I am more of a gardener than an archer. This isn't just a hit-or-miss operation. I till soil, plant seeds, water the earth, and pull weeds. Sometimes I get a glimpse of green sprouting from the soil. Sometimes I see the fruit of my labor. But mostly, I wait. With dirt under my fingernails and sweat on my brow, I pray for a bountiful harvest. And all the while, the Sun is shining down, beckoning to the seed, calling it to Himself.

"So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow" (1 Cor. 3:7).

Student of the Week: Caleb Cook

Our student of the week is Caleb Cook. Caleb is 7 years old and is in the 1st grade. This past Sunday, I had the honor of taking Caleb's confession before the congregation, as Caleb's dad baptized him into Christ.

When I asked Becky (Caleb's Wednesday night teacher) to describe him, she used the words attentive and lively. These two adjectives may not seem like they fit together, but I think they describe Caleb perfectly. He's excited, enthusiastic, and lively while at the same time being an engaged and attentive listener.

Whether it's acting out a Bible story, designing a wedding dress out of toilet paper, or making up actions for the memory verse, Caleb's the first to volunteer and participates without fear of what others might think. He is always willing to try new things, and as Caleb's dance performance during the Fall Festival illustrates, he is not intimidated by a crowd. Here's how Nancy (Caleb's small group leader) puts it,

"Caleb is always eager and willing to try, always participating in class. Even if he isn't sure, he takes that step of faith rather than staying back because he's afraid of being wrong. As adults, we can learn a lot from that childlike faith."

Thank you, Caleb, for showing me faith without fear. Your contagious enthusiasm makes you a joy to have in class.

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Wednesday night, I sat down with Caleb and asked him a few questions. He informed me that he had never been interviewed before, so I bring to you an exclusive, first-time interview with Caleb Cook:

What are some of your favorite things to do?

A: read chapter books, tv

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A: a dancer

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

A: to my Memaw and Papa's house, because I love them

If you had a time machine, to which time period would you travel?

A: to when my Papa was born

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

A: to fly, so I could see things that are far away

How do you show Christ to someone who is not a Christian?

A: by hugging them