There comes a time, every day...

...when I just can't stare at a computer screen anymore...

Heirs

"And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God." --Galatians 4:6-7

I read this in my quiet time last night. What an amazing thing. I remember reading in J.I. Packer's Knowing God that God met our immediate need when he secured our salvation - but he was under no obligation to adopt us.

But he has. We're no longer slaves to sin, but we aren't just free, roaming orphans either. We're adopted into God's family. We're just like his 'biological child' Jesus. And we're brought into such an intimate relationship that we're not just calling God a respectful, distant title like "sir" or even "father" - we're calling him "abba", the Aramaic equivilant to "daddy".

It gets even better though: not only are we part of the family, we're also heirs to all that belongs to our father. Imagine the wonderful things that are coming to those who are sons and daughters of the King of Heaven. How humbling.

Finley's Knot

I tried my hand at Celtic knotwork today. I drew my first original knot. I named it the Finley Knot, for little baby Finley O'Connor.

Remember to pray for them.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Just in case there are any other Sherlock Holmes fans out there, today is Sir Arther Conan Doyle's Birthday.

Cat Sitting

When I was in college, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I took a Nature Writing/Backpacking class. It was awesome. It was team taught by a literature professor and a history/PE professor. Part of this class was going on camping trips.

Before setting out on the first of these backpacking trips, I was sitting in the flat bed of the pickup truck that would take us to the Shenandoah Valley when I was aproached by my literature professor.

"Would you be up for house sitting this summer?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. "Why me?"

"Well," she said, "I was scrolling through my students looking for one who wouldn't mind that I don't have cable."

"Hey," I replied "I'm your ticket."

That was the summer of 2003. I house sat alone. It was great. My professor's condo was open and airy, and beautifully decorated - I felt like I was outside even when I was in. She and I had alot in common. Her whole apartment was decorated in earthtones. She had pictures of family and friends everywhere. I let The Beatles play over and over while I cooked and ate my eastern food. And there was no TV blaring the whole time I was there. I loved sitting on the couch with a copy of Thoureau's Walking, listening to the evening birds melt into the nightime crickets through the gossimer curtain of the open sliding-glass door.

Did I mention the cats? Three of them: Zoe, Zeke and Munch. As I got to know them over that first week I gave them titles: Princess Zoe, Herr Zeek, and Sir Munch. Maybe that will give you an idea of their personalities. These are not your typical cats. I discovered that the first night I crawled into bed. I awoke in the middle of the night with Zeke curled up on what I wasn't using of my pillow, Munch nuzzled into the bend of my right knee (yes, under the sheets) and Zoe sitting square on my chest, looking down into my face. This was fine until a few minutes later when she started doing that thing cats do when they're happy, you know, that rhythmic clawing thing in synch with their purring. I did my best to lift her gently off me so she'd stop without taking the skin of my chest with her.

Well, I got called back to cat sit again in 2004, but alot had change in that year. Not only had Stephan and I gotten married, but our professor had moved into a real house and had a boyfriend (whom she met on the Appalachian Trail on the second backpacking trip for that class!). So Stephan came along for cat sitting in the new house, but things are a little different with him joining...

You see, Stephan is terribly allergic to cats. Sometimes I think he really would die if he didn't take his medicine. However, he does have meds he can take that keep his symptoms at bay. But we still have a routine now that the cats aren't to pleased with...and if I'm honest, I'm not either. I really liked having the cats with me when I slept that first summer...But Stephan's a much better bed-mate than these cats, so I'm not complaining.

I usually preceed Stephan to the house, and the first thing I do is vaccuum. I vaccum every room and dust what I can, then I head for the bedroom where I change the sheets and sweep and wipe down every surface. After that I bring in our stuff (without setting it down anywhere on the way), and then shut the door. The cats are banished from the bedroom for our stay.

Well, we're embarking on our 4th year of house sitting for this professor, starting today. We'll be there over our 2 year wedding anniversary, and since we couldn't go away on vacation this year, this will kind of be like a get-away for us. We're looking forward to it.

Below are some pictures of the cats. (Zeke and Munch respectively) I don't have a picture of Zoe, but I'll put it up if I get one this go around.

Funny Doctor Story #2

I order the office supplies for our department.

Earlier this week I had a request come to me from Dr. Bachchan (a regal Indian doctor on the other side of the hall who reminds me of the famous Indian actor Amitabh Bachchan) for some bottles of office duster. I was informed by Miss Money (our budget gal) that she'd ordered 8 bottles back in December - 2 for Dr. Freakout and 6 for storage. If they weren't in storage, she said, then Dr. Freakout must have them. I was to ask him for the excess.

The following email exchange proceeded:

To Dr. Freakout:
Dr. Bachchan recently asked me to order him some bottles of pressurized duster spray for his office. Miss Money then informed me she'd bought some back in December, some for you and some for storage. Do you know where the extras are? They aren't in our store room.

To Me:
I think that we have a few of these, but I don't know whether Miss Money ordered more for storage. I can give one or two to Dr. Bachchan if that's all he needs.

To Dr. Freakout:
Could you please give two to Dr. Bachchan? That would fix all the problems of the universe.

To Me:
I already did, and none of the problems of the universe has been affected in any way.

To Dr. Freakout:
Sorry, should have clarified - the problems in MY universe were affected. Thank you!

Dr. Freakout came to my office later that day and informed me I had a very small universe if office duster spray could solve it's problems. I told him that office mascots always have very small universes. He then declared he was going to share some of his universe with me so I'd have something to do.

"You're going to offload the parts of your universe that are problematic onto my desk?" I said.

This was my fatal sentence. I was then told I was misusing the word 'problematic' and we spent the next 15 minutes looking through various dictionaries - bound and online - to try and determine who was right. He insisted it didn't mean 'problem filled' - but that it was something closer to 'enigmatic', which means mysterious or hard to solve. He was right, but I still didn't see how what I'd said was wrong. After 15 minutes I repeated what I'd said and he admitted he'd heard me wrong and that I'd used the word correctly.

"But most people use it incorrectly," he said, "and have been for the past 100 years or so."

"Well, if they've been doing it for 100 years, is there nothing to be said for the evolution of language?" I asked.

After a pause he said "Well, there is, but not to those of us clinging to 17th century English."

I shrugged - can't argue with that.

The O'Connors

My supervisor is of Irish decent. The last time she visited Ireland she met a guy in a pub - we'll call him The Irishman. I know what you're thinking, but don't - there was nothing racey between these two. They've had a genuine friendship over the past few years via email and phone calls.

Well, the Irishman sent my supervisor another email yesterday. She read it to me. The Irishman was talking about his weekend. Apparently over there holding down more than one job is regular. The Irishman is a photographer and also the caretaker of a historic but functioning church in Cobh, County Cork, Ireland. While he was in the church, a distraught looking young couple came in, inquiring after a priest. There wasn't one there at the moment, so they just asked the Irishman if they could talk to him. He concented, and they recounted their tale. The man was 20 and the woman was 17, and they'd run away to England from Cork trying to "make a new life for themselves", but had failed terribly. They'd made their way back to Ireland and appealed to every agency they could to try and get a bed for the night, but they all said the same thing: "It'll take two days to process your claim." They were finally offered a place by one agency, but when they went in they found the communal sleeping room full of drunk men. And here was a surprise. "I could sleep there alright myself," said the man, "but I wasn't taking my pregnant girlfriend in there." The Irishman said this was what clenched it for him. He saw how avidly protective this fellow was of his pregnant girlfriend and decided he'd take a gamble for them. He gave them enough money for a bed that night and transport back to their hometown. He then sent them on their way and hasn't seen them since - and doesn't expect to again.

The Irishman sent the story to my supervisor with one request: pray for them. He also asked that my supervisor pick one other person to share the story with so they could pray as well. She chose me.

I don't know if The Irishman knows the true God of the Bible, but his requsest for prayer for this couple fell heavy on my heart.

"You gonna pray for them?" my supervisor asked.

"Absolutely!" I answered. I was quiet for a second, then looked up at her. "Let's name them." I said.

"What?" she answered.

"Let's name the family. Your friend didn't send any names with his story, so let's name them."

So we named them - good ol' Irish names. Liam is the father. Aiofe (pronounced "Ey-fee") is the mother, and Finley is the baby, since we don't know the gender. By the way, Aiofe is about 2 months along - Finley should be born sometime near Christmas.

Later in the day I asked my supervisor how she knew she was Irish. Her answer was that her Grandmother came over during the potato famine.

"What was her surname?" I asked.

"O'Connor," she said.

Liam, Aiofe and Finley O'Connor - if they come to mind, pray for them. And remember Finley around Christmas. God has already shown them great kindness through The Irishman. Pray that he'd send bible-believing Christians into their path to share the gospel with them, and that they'd be saved.

Most to be pitied...

On or around May 1st of 2006, I accidentally stumbled across something very cool.

We all know that The Da Vinci Code movie is being released this month, and of course, everyone's doing some kind of promotion - including Google. Yes, to get it's slice of the hype-pie, Google came up with this contest which consisted of a series of puzzles - one a day for 24 days. If you were among the first 10,000 people to work all the puzzles correctly and submit your entry, you would be sent a special package that would allow you access to the final challenge. The final challenge was a series of timed puzzles. Whoever worked them the fastest got a spectacular prize.

But I didn't care about the prize - I just wanted access to the puzzles. You see, I love puzzles. I'm a sudoku fiend. I've loved logic problems since 6th grade. My high school friends and I invented our own code of symbols and wrote pages and pages of notes in it. When asked if I'd rather a crocodile eat me or an alligator, I proudly say, "an alligator."

So I worked my puzzles through the first 23 days, and on day 24, I worked that puzzle too and submitted it within an hour of it being posted. I thought I was a shoe-in to be among the first 10,000. I smugly shut my account that day certain that on fateful Monday the 15th, I'd be notified that my access package was in the mail.

Well, the 15th came and went with no word from Google by 4:30 in the afternoon. I checked my email once again before bed - nothing. I crawled down off the stood I was sitting on after closing my email account and slunk to the bedroom. "What could have gone wrong?" I thought as I very uncheerfully brushed my teeth. "There's no way 10,000 people could have beat me in an hour's time...Not 10,000..."

Morning rose on the 16th and I went to work and checked my email, like I always do. But that day, one email stood out from the others, the one with NOT A FINALIST written very boldly and uncompassionately in the subject line. I didn't even open it. I just stared at it with my had on the mouse, in the glazed way my brother used to stare at his video games after 6 hours of game play. "Not a finalist?" I whispered, completely bewildered. No access to the last puzzles? I couldn't play the last puzzles? If I hadn't been at work I probably would have cried on the spot.

You're probably thinking I'm embellishing just a little for sake of drama. Well, I'm not really. I was pretty crushed when I got that email. I was totally convinced that I would be among that first 10,000. I had put hope in it.

...And that's why I was so disappointed. I had put hope in being among the 10,000, and when the object of my hope failed me, well...

This reminded me of something though: I can put hope in nothing but God and his gospel. Nothing. I can't put hope in myself, I can't put hope in my plans for the future or my ability to accomplish, I can't put hope in my friends, I can't put hope in my husband. I can name specific instances where all of these things have failed me, good though their intentions had been. These things are limited, and thus incapable of coming through for me 100% of the time. There is no unlimited person in all of finite creation (excepting Christ during his time here). The only unlimited person, by his nature, is not part of finite creation at all, and that's God. And that God established a source of hope for me, a sinner - my savior Jesus and his atoning death and ratifying resurrection.

"And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied." -- 1 Corinthians 15:17-19

Ah, my good friend Paul. This is a snippet from his first letter to the church in Corinth. This is a profound thing he's saying here. If Christ had died and stayed dead, then there's nothing special about him. But his resurrection proves that, being sinless, he had died a death he didn't deserve. Think about it: if Christ had deserved his death, that would mean he would have sinned at some point during his stay on earth. If he had sinned even once, he would have been taking the punishment for his own sins. If he was taking the punishment for his own sins, who would there be to take the punishment for ours? Yep, us. That's what Paul is saying above: "your faith is futile and you are still in your sins." Your faith in the sinless sacrifice of Christ has no foundation and therefore no one has washed your sins away and you're still in them. Oh, and all the folks who have already died who believed in Christ's atoning death - they're just gone, because their faith in Christ had no foundation either. Indeed, the hope of heaven and eternity with God that the Gospel gave us are all a farce, so you have hoped in Christ in vain and you are a person to be pitied. And not just a person to be pitied - you are of all people, most to be pitied. Others may have had disappointments, but you had hope for eternal life and reconciliation with God! You're hope was the highest, so your loss is the greatest. You're hope ends at death pal, and when that's the case, you indeed deserve pity more than any other person on the planet.

A person most to be pitied...That was me when I'd put my hope in winning the next level from the puzzle contest. I was put to shame because I'd hoped in something that didn't happen. I cringe to think of all the other times I've put my hope in a person, or a plan, or an event that didn't come through for me.

But here's good news:

"But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." -- 1 Corinthians 15:20

Christ is special - he did rise from the dead. And not only that, he's the "firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep" - meaning he's just the first to do it. Because of his atoning death, those who believe in him after his resurrection will also 'rise from the dead' - join him in heaven when they die in the body.

Believers in Christ don't hope in him for this life only - we hope in him clear through this life and into the next, and he will never disappoint us in this. The gospel is the only thing we can put our hope in. Anything else is misplaced hope. Anything else will eventually disappoint us. But if our hope is grounded in the solid unshakable gospel, everything around us can fall to pieces but our hope will not be disappointed. Like the hymn says:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus name

When darkness veils his lovely face
I rest on his unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gail
My anchor holds within the veil

His oath, his covenant, his blood
Support me in the whelming flood
When all around my soul gives way
He then is all my hope and stay

When he shall come with trumpet sound
Oh may I then in him be found!
Dressed in his righteousness alone
Faultless to stand before the throne

On Christ the solid rock I stand!
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand!

Worthy of Honor

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" --Jeremiah 17:9

I wish I could get this into my thick head - my thick head perched upon my stiff neck.

Thank God for my husband, who does get it.

Stephan knows he has a heart that's desperately sick with sin - and he doesn't trust it for an instant. This has produced a humility in him that informs his every action, and I am astounded by it.

Here's his trick: he understands the gospel. He knows exactly how he stands before the Lord - by grace alone. He knows there's no good thing in himself apart from God. This keeps him from so many judmental criticisms, fits of anger, and idols of self that he would otherwise be prey to.

Don't misunderstand me. I don't have a perfect husband. He still sins. But I do want to honor him for his humility before the Lord and before me.

Stephan, I've said it before - you are my chief treasure under my salvation. Thank you for being such an example of humility to me, your proud, proud wife. Thank you for considering every criticism. Thank you for being quick to apologise, and quicker to forgive. Thank you for loving your savior and desiring God's glory above all other things. Thank you for loving me in spite of my being completely unlovely. Despite what you think of yourself, you are growing into a passionate man of God, by his grace. Pray for your wife, who doesn't yet understand as you do how desperately sick her heart is. I hope I can attain in third before I die the humility you exhibit now. I love you.

Shwag

My husband recently got promoted to Store Manager at the shop he works at. I'm super proud of him!! This position isn't without benefits. No, I don't mean the medical kind - I mean shwag.

What's shwag? It's free stuff! And sometimes they send free stuff to his wife too... like this cute little hat!

Galatians 3:3

"Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" --Galatians 3:3

I read this in my quiet time this morning. It spoke to one of my biggest temptations: self sufficiency. I'm tempted every day to start believing that I can do things - like grow in godliness - on my own.

"For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God." --Romans 8:8

Scripture is clear that a mind left to itself is hostile to God and cannot please him. We need God's help to do anything that pleases him. So Paul posed a good question to the Galatians: If it took the an act of the Holy Spirit to save you in the first place, what makes you think you can proceed solo from there? It takes God's work in me, God's spirit, to make even the smallest advance toward Christ-likeness. I have to be on my toes, guarding against beleiving I am every able to grow in godliness on my own. I have to petition God daily - minutely, even - for his enabling power to please him.

No Other Gospel

"I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel-- not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed." --Galatians 1:6-9

Looks like the church in Galacia was believing a false Gospel.

You can bet Paul's apostolic heresy detector is going off like crazy when he hears this. He uses very strong language and repeats that strong language for emphasis. "Let him be accursed," he says.

I read this passage this morning in my quiet time. It reminded me of the message preached at my church last Sunday. We had the privilege of hearing Dr. Al Mohler speak on The Da Vinci Code. He said this:

"Friends, what we have on our hands here is another in the long line of false gospels."

False gospels...from Galacia to the Da Vinci Code, the church has been presented with them. What's the big deal about them? What was Paul so riled up about? What's the church all in a stir over with the Da Vinci Code movie days away from release? I'll tell you what the big deal is. A false gospel claims a different means of salvation than Jesus Christ and his atoning death. Pretty simple - but with dire consequences. The true Gospel leads to eternal life. A false gospel leads to eternal death. You've heard of this pair before: heaven and hell respectively. If the people who believe false gospels only knew how I pray for them to recognize the truth of the authentic Gospel…

We all had a false gospel at some point, something we like better than the truth, something that suited our preferences, personality, or lifestyle better. No one wants to hear that there is a holy God presently reigning in heaven, and he does lay claim to their life, and he will judge them for every word and action. Even when all this is followed with that same God having created a way to become his own child, thus abolishing the fear and consequences of that final judgment, people still don't want to accept it.

Well, this isn’t a new attitude, just like false gospels aren’t a new thing:

"For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths." --2 Timothy 4:3-4

This is Paul again, writing to Timothy, his apprentice. He’s warning Tim that there will be a time when people will tailor make their own gospel and thus wander away from the truth – literally saying they’ll believe whatever scratches their itch. From where I sit, Paul was a pretty apt guy.

Friends, the truth is out there, and it isn’t hidden. It’s a little hard to swallow at first – but isn’t that usually how the truth is? I’d rather have it all up front than be surprised later – because this surprise is eternal. Ask yourself if you’ve given the true Gospel of Jesus Christ enough consideration to dismiss it with confidence. If you have even the slightest glimmer of doubt in your heart, explore it further. You’ll be glad you did.

Hana

On our honeymoon, my husband and I took a book to read out loud together. It was called Shibumi. There was a character in this book named Hana, she was part asian, part african, and part caucasion. She was discribed as a person who was the embodiment of every grace and amiable attribute, brilliant in conversation and intellect, and a simple pleasure to be around. As I read this description of her, I couldn't help stopping, lowering the book to my lap and saying "You know, that does sound just like Hana."

You see, I know a Hana - yes, her name's Hana! - who also happens to be part aisan and part caucasion (Japanese and Scotch-Irish, to be specific), and she in indeed the embodiment of every grace and miable attribute, brilliant in conversation and intellect, and a simple pleasure to be around. I love her to death.

There's an artist based in California named Stephanie Pui-Mun Law. She does fantasy pieces, but she'll also work for commission. One couple who was getting married asked her to do the graphics for their wedding invitations. The groom was Manx (from the Isle of Man between Ireland and and England) and the bride was Japanese. They wanted something that would embrace both their cultures, so Stephanie created a beautiful Celtic Knot using Japanese Cranes.

It made me think of Hana - you can see why.

©Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

You can check out the rest of Stephanie's art at her web site, Shadowscapes.

By grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone - Period.

Sunday night wasn’t the greatest for me. Have I shared yet that I’m the Queen of Backsliding? (No, that’s not a county in Ireland.) I fell into some old sin Sunday night. I’m good at that it seems. Not proud of it, but certainly good at it.

Yesterday as I was walking down the stairs at work, I thought about praying for all the people I want to see saved in my life. But soon as I did another thought followed: “You can’t approach God, not now – not after how you behaved last night.”

I think I physically cringed. Shame and guilt swarmed around me like gnats. My heart got heavy in my chest. When I remembered my sin of the past evening, I certainly didn’t feel like I could be asking any favors of God. I didn’t even feel like I could approach his presence at all.

But then another voice had its say: “…by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone…”

Enter the Holy Spirit! Boy, God’s kind. That was all it took – I quickly but genuinely repented of the sin I committed the prior evening and prayed with confidence for the people I wanted to see come to Christ.

So what had happened? What instigated such a dramatic turn around? What vanquished the guilt and shame I was feeling? What gave me confidence, as a sinner, to approach a holy God and make requests of him? The most powerful thing in the world: the gospel.

This simple sentence was put together by the ex-senior pastor of my church, C.J. Mahaney. It’s short, but says all the mind blowing things I needed to hear in that moment: by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone.

Grace is God giving me his forgiveness and acceptance without me ever having deserved or earned it (because indeed, I never deserved and could ever earn either).

Faith is belief without seeing.

Christ is the only sinless human who ever lived, who died the death I should have died, was punished for my sin in my place, and satisfied God’s wrath against my sin. All I have to do now is believe in Christ and his atoning death and my sin is wiped away. Christ took all my sin that day on Calvary – and if I believe, I can take all the perfection of his sinless life.

I’ve done this, and because of Christ’s sacrifice, God looks at me and sees his perfection – not my sin.

Pretty amazing huh? That’s the gospel. Kind of makes you wonder how a person who’s received this great gift could ever forget it.

Well, I forgot it. In the stairwell I started to believe something different: that my acceptance before God was based on my actions, not on Christ’s sacrifice. Functionally, what I was saying with my actions was “Christ’s death wasn’t sufficient. He didn’t secure forgiveness for all my sins when he died, for example, the ones I committed last night.” I was beginning to believe that I could earn God’s acceptance – why else would I have thought that bad behavior would equal God’s rejection? Isn’t the flip side of that good behavior would equal God’s acceptance? I was believing I’d be accepted or rejected based on my merit.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. Scripture is clear that we are accepted by God based on our acceptance or rejection of Christ’s death on our behalf. If we’ve accepted it in faith, we’re accepted before God. If we reject it in pride, we’re rejected by God. It is only by God’s grace, through faith in Christ’s atoning death that we’re accepted by God. By grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone – period.

Forgiveness

So Zacarias Moussaoui recieved his sentence after a two month trial yesterday for his role ('role') in the 9/11 attacks. He was given life in prison. Allegedly as he was leaving the courtroom after recieving the sentence he shouted "America, you have lost!" But one of the family of someone who died on 9/11 said because 12 Americans showed him mercy, just the opposite was true.

That got me thinking. What would I have said if my husband, the dearest person in my life, had been taken from me on that day? If I had a chance to talk to Zacarias Moussaoui, what would I say?

I know what I'd hope I'd be able to say.

"Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. And since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made. So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.' And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt. But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, 'Pay what you owe.' So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you.' He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. When his fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their master all that had taken place. Then his master summoned him and said to him, 'You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?'" --Matthew 18:23-33

This parable that Jesus told has some incredible things in it. We have a king - obviously that's God. And we have the servants - that's each of us. So the protagonist of this parable owes the king a great sum of money - 10,000 talents. For perspective, 1 talent is equal to what an average laborer would earn in 20 years. So to amass 10,000 talents this servant would have had to live and work for 200,000 years! Jesus use of this hyperbole isn't pointless - he wants us to see just how astronomical this servant's debt against the king is. It's so great that this guy would never be able to repay it through his works or actions. So the king calls him to task, and the servant begs for mercy - and the king grants it. He doesn't only give the servant more time to gather the funds to pay the debt, he forgives the debt in full! That's pretty amazing since this king had 200,000 years worth of earnings coming his way. So out the servant goes, and in the hallway he bumps into another servant, this one owing him money - 100 denari. A single denarius was 1 day's wages. So he collars him and demands payment. The debting servant uses the exact same words to plea for mercy as the previous servant used with the king: 'be patient with me and I will pay you'. And he probably could have. This money could have been amassed in just over 3 months! But the servant refuses to forgive the other's debt and has him thrown into prison.

Well the king catches wind of this and calls the first servant into the office again, this time chiding him, calling him wicked. The king forgave a debt so high that there was no hope of repaying it. The servant wouldn't even forgive a debt that could have been paid off in half a year tops. You can see who's getting thrown into prison now.

So what's God driving at in this passage? The trigger of this parable is a simple question and answer between the apostle Peter and Jesus. Peter asks what the cap is on the number of times he's obligated to forgive someone for sinning against him. Jesus tells him "seventy times seven" times. So basically he's saying there is no cap - forgive indefinitely. That may seem unreasonable. But that's why the following parable is so helpful. It gives us a proper perspective.

Scripture is clear that all people are sinners - we owe God a debt that we will never be able to pay. But God, in his mercy, through Jesus's death, made it possible for us to recieve his forgiveness (if that doesn't quite make sense, go read the post for Dec 22 - it explains this in more detail). In light of that, God is basically saying to us through this passage "view others' sin against you in light of your sin against me." No amount of sin against us will ever exceed our own amount of sin agasint God. Jesus demonstrated this effectively in the parable using the amounts of money. Since we were forgiven much, we can forgive a little - and any sin against us is 'little' when compared to our sin against God.

It may not feel 'little' though. I'm sure the people who lost loved ones on 9/11 don't feel like they were sinned against 'a little'. It probably feels more like 10,000 talents are owed them instead of just the 100 denari. I won't presume to know their pain. It is certainly worse than I've ever expereinced, and they are a strong, courageous lot for persevering through this awful, awful trial. However, no amount of suffering negates the teaching of scripture. And scripture is clear on this issue: no matter what we feel like, our sin against God will always be greater than others' sin against us.

So what would I say to Moussaoui? I hope, in light of this teaching from scripture, that I'd be able to say from my heart, before anything else, "I forgive you." I'd probably want to share this passage of scripture with him (abridged, of course), and tell him I'm no better than he is. We're both sinners before a holy God - we've both got an astronomical debt to pay. But I'd make big of this: the king is willing to show mercy! This is what grips me hardest in this passage. God will grant mercy to anyone who asks. And he doesn't just give us more time to pay off our debt - knowing we could never do it by our works, he erases our debt. That's amazing, simply amazing. What he asks in return is that we follow his example and forgive others as we were forgiven.

I'd also hope to tell him that the King had already extended him mercy through the jury's verdict yesterday - life in prison instead of the death penalty. He's got a little more time to recieve the king's absolute forgiveness. What a treasure. I sure hope he doesn't waste it.

Limited

I'm feeling pretty good today. I got to bed early and slept in some this weekend, so I feel better than I normally do. I was talking to my husband about it, and made the comment "I may just have to be a napper - one of those people who takes a 2 hour nap in the middle of the day."

Then I thought how much I really wouldn't like that. That's 2 hours that could be spent on something else. But lately, if I don't get a couple hours sleep in the middle of the day, I'm useless from about noon onward. These days, if I don't take a nap when I get home from work, my evening isn't productive.

I didn't like the thought of being limited in that way.

But this is a good reminder. There are too many scriptures to list out the unlimited-ness of God and the limited-ness of man. But that's the case. Only God is infinite and has no needs or dependences.

"The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything." --Acts 17:24-25

Only God is unlimited and needs nothing. I however, am limited and have many needs. An unusually long amount of sleep may be one of them.