Advent: Reclamation

His smile was grim as he looked over the land:
Thickets of plum and honey locust twined with poison ivy,
Clearings all but choked with thistles, weeds, and vines.

He was old enough to remember when this was a vineyard,
Renowned around the world for its fine wines, subtle yet robust,
And now a family of raccoons resided under the ruined winepress.

The cistern had cracked. The spring that used to feed it
Burbled down the hill now, giving life to other, less ungrateful, lands.
The soil, once rich and fertile, was now drought-dry.

The grapevines had gone the way that wild grapevines go:
In every direction they could. They were prodigiously leafy
And all but fruitless. The few grapes they did have were tiny and bitter.

In short, it was a mess. But, like just about anything,
It could be salvaged, given enough time, tears, sweat, and blood.
He had loved this vineyard once, and it was in his heart to remake it.

He noticed a full-grown timber rattler sunning itself atop a fallen log
And made a mental note to have his son come down
And deal with it. Snakes would have no place in this vineyard.

It was a huge job, but he was unfazed. He had an abundance
Of time and strength and zeal. No matter the cost, he would accomplish this.
He turned to the nearest tree, unshouldered his ax, and started chopping.

Photo Credit

Fellowship

He found you like He found me:
Empty and hopeless,
At the end of ourselves,
Lost coins hiding in forgotten corners,
Penniless prodigals stealing slop from hogs.

And He breathed life into our dead lungs,
And overwhelmed our darkness with light,
And built us into a body, a temple,
A kingdom where everyone
Is a priest of the Almighty.

Rainy Day

Raindrops soak dry ground,
Forming life-giving puddles:
New hope from dark clouds.

Adventures in Hagiography

Hagiographers build the saint's life
Even as they kill the man behind it
Deader than a sinless doornail.

They lose his doubt and fear and foibles,
His bad temper and worse choices,
His lonely nights of dark despair.

They know their audience, to be sure:
Masses eager for a blameless hero,
But one less offensive than Jesus Himself.

In the baby lisping Ave Maria and Pater Noster,
We see Christ as we would like Him to be,
Rather than the bruised, bloody bondslave He was.

Thanksgiving Eve Communion Meditation

Take a moment to consider what you are thankful for tonight. Is it family? Friends? Food to eat, clothes to wear? A warm place to stay?

You probably didn't say, "The gruesome execution of an innocent man." In fact, though, that is precisely what we are here to remember, to celebrate, and to give thanks for.

Tonight, we remember our abject failure, both individually and collectively, to do things God's way. We remember our willful treachery toward a loving Father. (And let us not deceive ourselves: ours was a betrayal every bit as vile – and every bit as permanent – as Judas Iscariot's.) We remember the dark, despairing night of our sojourn among the hopeless dead.

We remember, too, a blameless man who loved, healed, and forgave as freely as He breathed. He was the obedient son, a perfect foil for Adam’s rebellious race. He gave of himself with an intensity greater even than our self-seeking greed. Everything he did was perfect, since he followed in his heavenly father’s perfect steps.

And this faultless one, this perfect son, was the man who stood in our rightful place under the wrath of a just judge. He bore our iniquities and the punishment for our sins without a word of complaint. He drank the cup of God’s wrath down to the last bitter dregs.

Isaiah wrote this about the suffering servant:

1 Who has believed our message?

And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?

2 For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot,

And like a root out of parched ground;

He has no stately form or majesty

That we should look upon Him,

Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.

3 He was despised and forsaken of men,

A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;

And like one from whom men hide their face

He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.

4 Surely our griefs He Himself bore,

And our sorrows He carried;

Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,

Smitten of God, and afflicted.

5 But He was pierced through for our transgressions,

He was crushed for our iniquities;

The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,

And by His scourging we are healed.

6 All of us like sheep have gone astray,

Each of us has turned to his own way;

But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all

To fall on Him.

7 He was oppressed and He was afflicted,

Yet He did not open His mouth;

Like a lamb that is led to slaughter,

And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers,

So He did not open His mouth.

8 By oppression and judgment He was taken away;

And as for His generation, who considered

That He was cut off out of the land of the [k]living

For the transgression of my people, to whom the stroke was due?

9 His grave was assigned with wicked men,

Yet He was with a rich man in His death,

Because He had done no violence,

Nor was there any deceit in His mouth.

10 But the Lord was pleased

To crush Him, putting Him to grief;

If He would render Himself as a guilt offering,

He will see His offspring,

He will prolong His days,

And the good pleasure of the Lord will prosper in His hand.

11 As a result of the [p]anguish of His soul,

He will see it and be satisfied;

By His knowledge the Righteous One,

My Servant, will justify the many,

As He will bear their iniquities.

12 Therefore, I will allot Him a portion with the great,

And He will divide the booty with the strong;

Because He poured out Himself to death,

And was numbered with the transgressors;

Yet He Himself bore the sin of many,

And interceded for the transgressors.

So, tonight, we remember this prince who died the ignoble death of a slave on our behalf. We remember the one who willingly braved a dark, deadly path to redeem the lost souls of his straying people. And we are thankful, more than words could express, that he was willing to be utterly broken so we might be made whole again. Only God’s matchless mercy could have achieved this. Let’s thank Him for the provision of such a marvelous savior.

Who to Blame

In case you didn't know, a bad man killed a lot of people (including 20 children between preschool and 4th grade)  in Connecticut yesterday. This was an abhorrent act, perpetrated by a strong man in the prime of his youth on some of the weakest people around.

Of course, cable news networks being what they are, the "experts" started coming on within minutes of the event, making intelligent-sounding noises for as long as the show's host would allow them to. They claimed to have the answers for the questions each viewer was asking: Why did this tragedy happen? Where does the blame lie? How can we fix this?

It seems like heartbroken people are most easily comforted when they can pin the blame down. That way, at least you have someone or something to direct your anger toward.

You would be at least partly right to blame any of these:

• People who insist on having the right to obtain and keep deadly weapons, regardless of how this right (or these weapons) could be misused
• A culture that doesn't take mental illness seriously ("If I can't see it, it doesn't exist!")
• Parents who get divorced when they discover that marriage is hard, leaving their children with gaping emotional wounds
• A media establishment that glorifies violence until it actually happens in the real world, at which point it becomes, of course, an unthinkable tragedy
• News shows that run stories with headlines like "Inside the Mind of Evil," trying to define what makes "those people" different from good, normal, upstanding folk like you and me
• A community that doesn't engage people, connect to their places of greatest need, and bring them the deep and abiding healing of true fellowship

As you listen to the "experts," you'll notice a pattern. Most of their ideas involve legislative fixes to perceived problems. 

This is true for the rest of our culture, too. We feel that if we can all just agree on the problem and the solution, then we can simply change the law, and voila! No more problem. So we lobby for stronger gun-control laws, for more mental health funding, for better security systems in schools.

But regardless of how hard we work to fix them, the problems keep recurring. No matter what laws are made, we can't seem to get past the fact that people do terrible things to each other.

So who do we blame for the deeper problem here? The one we can't seem to solve? Here's what I believe: 

The light has come into the world and people loved the darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil deeds hates the light and does not come to the light, so that their deeds will not be exposed. (Jn. 3:19-20)

And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what should not be done. They are filled with every kind of unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, malice. They are rife with envy, murder, strife, deceit, hostility. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful, contrivers of all sorts of evil, disobedient to parents, senseless, covenant-breakers, heartless, ruthless. Although they fully know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but also approve of those who practice them. (Rom. 1:28-32)

 Making laws, starting committees, and working for social change might have some effect on the world, just as a properly applied piece of gauze might have some effect on a gushing carotid artery. But this patient is going to need surgery if we're going to keep him from bleeding out.

That's why the story of the school shooting is a perfect accompaniment to Advent. It is yet another example of the pain, sorrow, and utter brokenness that Jesus Christ was born to heal.

In Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting people’s trespasses against them, and he has given us the message of reconciliation. (II Cor. 5:19)

I haven't shot 20 children in cold blood, but my sinful heart is capable of such evil. And so is yours. He came to right our wrongs and to bring wholeness to a people sickened unto death. He came to heal the rift between God and man -- a rift that we feel most keenly in tragic circumstances.

His death and resurrection on our behalf offers redemption and restoration to you, me, and others just like us whose faults are more evident (and seemingly more tragic).

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Album Review: Matthew Clark's "Bright Came the Word From His Mouth"

I love epics. Not much makes me happier than trekking with Frodo through Mordor toward Mount Doom or sailing over the bright whaleroad to Heorot with Beowulf. Something about these broad, sweeping stories engages me and pulls me in deeper than other tales can.

So I was thrilled at the chance to hear an advance review copy of Matthew Clark's upcoming project, Bright Came the Word From His Mouth.

This album is a thoughtful, melodious journey from one end of time to the other. It deals with the most significant facets of human existence. In the bard's rhythms and rhymes, we hear echoes of eternity. An epic, if ever I've heard one.

Appropriately enough, "Bright Came the Word" is inspired by Sandra Richter's book, The Epic of Eden. Clark wrote the album as a soundtrack for the book's companion DVD. Richter's purpose for writing the book was to put the Old Testament in a usable order so readers could gain a better understanding of God's redemptive plan.

Clark's album dovetails nicely with that mission. The very first song, "Overture," engages listeners with themes that continue as unbroken threads until the end: sin, sacrifice, redemption, and reconciliation. It foreshadows an album that is remarkably unified, both musically and lyrically.

"Overture" is also a great introduction to Clark's musical style. He creates delicate, carefully measured melodies, consistently backed by his skillful folk guitar as well as understated vocal and instrumental harmonies. His sound, reminiscent of Matthew Perryman Jones or David Crowder, is sincere, honest and dynamic.

Clark's lyrics are no less skillful than his music. They are dense with vivid metaphors and insightful readings of scripture. These lines from "Overture" tell volumes about Abram, his faith, and how he foreshadowed the redemption that would come in the person of Christ:

Abram held the promise close, Raised the blade above his head 

 A son will surely give his life, Know the promise breaks the knife

These lyrics exemplify Clark's commitment to depth and truth without preachiness. It is often difficult to communicate sound doctrine in an imaginative way, but Clark maintains an unfailing balance between orthodoxy and creativity.

It's hard to pick a single high point of this album. From the wistful longing of "Oh Eden!" to the driving rhythm of "Let Go the Floodgates" to the melancholy, expectant strains of "Where I Am You May Also Be," Clark communicates a variety of emotions and allows his music to illustrate the depth and richness of the gospel story.

In many ways, though, "Redemption Song" stands out as the cornerstone of Bright Came the Word From His Mouth. Its chronological scope is very broad, and it shows the continuity of God's plan in an especially eloquent and imaginative way. It weaves the stories of Lot, Ruth, and Hosea together as examples of humanity's desperate need for a savior. The final verse encapsulates the album's entire message in a single brief burst of lyrical beauty:

So the Father sends his only son, to ransom all the lost

From enemies too strong for them, from the poverty of loss

In the squalor of the pit, where the willing faithless sit

To the depths the love of God has sent his Word, redemption

I suppose a reviewer is more or less obligated to find something nasty to say about what he is reviewing. At any rate, that is the idea I get from most of the reviews I read. Well, I have bad news: I don't have anything nasty to say about this album. However, I suppose I can invent something sort of unfavorable to say about one of the tracks, since you insist.

"Let Go the Floodgates" sticks out just a little bit. Its bluesy, rhythmic music is markedly different from most of the other songs on the album, and the narrative voice of its lyrics is also pretty unique. It's certainly no monstrosity, and its sound is positively addictive. Nonetheless, if you held a gun to my head and demanded that I remove or alter a song on this album, I would say, "Seriously? I really don't want to." And you would say, "I'll use this! Don't think I won't! You're on thin ice, scumbag!" And then I suppose I would say this one. Not because it's bad, but because it seems like the album would still hold together OK without it.

Well, that was adequately painful, I think. Let's get back to gushing for a little while longer. 

"Reprise" is a perfect way to end the story. In it, Clark closes out his epic journey by returning to its beginning. Creation, once corrupted by sin and death, has been restored by Christ's redemptive work. Eden, once lost, has been regained:

Rest your sword by your side, fling the gates wide, at ease you cherubim

Dance you City of God, trees clap your hands, God and man home again

It is a marvelous, triumphant finish to a consistently excellent album. If you don't feel like getting up and dancing during "Reprise," then you are probably way too uptight and should loosen up, man. Seriously.

From beginning to end, this is a noteworthy album, full of truth, light, life, and hope. It is an epic, but more importantly, it is a clear, beautiful, and powerful account of a loving God who gave His all to bring His wandering children home.

Bright Came the Word From His Mouth is slated for release in January 2013. You can learn more about Matthew's music at his Web site. If you want to help him recoup some of the cost of recording the album, take a look at his indiegogo fundraising site.