tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23078413860602408752024-02-20T13:01:26.249-06:00The intersection of life, work, Jesus and double-seatingCaseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-51963853771087961002011-01-10T15:34:00.003-06:002011-01-10T15:48:06.357-06:00New BlogHello Faithful Reader-<br /><br />Thank you for hanging with me for the past couple of years, it's been a blast chronicling my experiences as a waiter and I have had a great time interacting with the likes of you.<br /><br />I have decided to focus on the current landscape of Christianity and the future of the church under what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called "religionless Christianity" at my new blog:<br /><br /><a href="http://therevcasey.wordpress.com">http://therevcasey.wordpress.com</a><br /><br />Thanks and don't be a stranger!<br /><br />In Christ, <br /><br />CaseyCaseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-80894608959784415662010-12-16T10:20:00.002-06:002010-12-16T10:41:50.766-06:00Old Folks, Misery, and JoyOne of the funny privileges of working in a restaurant is seeing the regulars. Over the years, I have moved from waiting on exclusively strangers to once in a while waiting on people who have moved closer to the category of friend, even if our relationship will never make that jump. <br /><br />I have found that most of my favorite regulars are over the age of 60. I think at some point in our lives we all decide whether or not we will be pleasant people. We decide if we respect others. We decide if we take ourselves seriously. We decide if we will fight every battle, every day. We can all hide our decision when we are young, whether it is social pressure, a desire to impress a woman, or inexperience in dealing fully with our emotions. Because we can tolerate a young man's cynicism for only so long and chock it up to fear but who can stand an old cynic? As the case may be, when we get old, we start to settle into who we have become over the years. <br /><br />And a lot of people, if the truth be told, are really miserable. Maybe they have decided the technological revolution has been too slow to create a robot-waiter or they have not had their lust for control satisfied to the fullest extent but either way, an alarming amount of people are, at their basic make-up, miserable. <br /><br />Who wants to grow old if that is how we will end?<br /><br />But the older folks I waited on last night were different. This was probably the 5th or 6th time I have served them and it has always been a pleasure. The old women have hilariously quick wits along with genuinely sweet personalities. The old men may not ever recognize me but they are always polite and expect nothing from me but another drink when they are running dry. <br /><br />In a world of whiners, back-biters, complainers, and critics, dealing with a happy, thankful people is a cold drink in the desert. <br /><br />Come to think of it, maybe that's what Paul meant in Philippians when he told the people of God to stop whining and start thanking God for what he has given us. Is there any better place to see this than in the person of Jesus? He came among us and suffered, even died, without complaint. In fact, he did it because he knew that there was great joy to be gained in what he was doing.<br /><br />The choice lies before us as to what people we will be today. Yesterday is passed and tomorrow is out of our hands. <br /><br />Will you choose misery or joy?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-12877276024088694372010-12-08T15:52:00.004-06:002010-12-08T16:04:05.197-06:00God, the Pro-Me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5FOopAAP667n4XMIGZLGjGVaHvHrL_71pLsgRG43t0O-krnQix3ugXLDeuMguX878hs-inuhon4an1FYu6pcmDU-FrfRFNFBqZypNfLPYHmOPxb-KGx5Z7L5e1FRfZuulCgpTkPIssU/s1600/images-1.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5FOopAAP667n4XMIGZLGjGVaHvHrL_71pLsgRG43t0O-krnQix3ugXLDeuMguX878hs-inuhon4an1FYu6pcmDU-FrfRFNFBqZypNfLPYHmOPxb-KGx5Z7L5e1FRfZuulCgpTkPIssU/s320/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548435476610165778" /></a><br />God is for you. <br /><br />Let that sink in for a minute. God, the one who set the earth spinning and keeps it spinning so perfectly it would make a Globetrotter jealous, is for you. He is on your side. <br /><br />How do we know this is true? <br /><br />It is what we celebrate at this time every year. God has made himself man on our accounts. He has affirmed the fact that there is something in us that is well-worth holding on to. He has not given up on the sons of Adam who continually turn their backs on him. He has spoken in the midst of our chaos. His message is better than we could ever imagine. <br /><br />How much would your life change if you believed that God was for you? Would you be so afraid of impending circumstances, whether it be a mountain of debt, an insatiable appetite for your own destruction, a wayward child, an awkward time in life, or even an ever-closer prison sentence? <br /><br />In the midst of all our chaos, God speaks in Christ. He is for us. <br /><br />What would happen to your life and the lives of those around you if you believed this?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-86328802616634497572010-12-06T16:15:00.003-06:002010-12-06T16:20:04.376-06:00The return of the lobsterman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IhH0C_EIknfVM1IPq2CV569EaAderYiBbD3ibMmisavDLiI-BySzA7Id5d4DtSDMRtXkvtSaw403ZHZlqbUyMfuHW3W8ohfRQvrQSSB1liElYmwR9cgD6nacL3ykSuVoVIvmDcL3sDM/s1600/Excited_Lobster.png.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IhH0C_EIknfVM1IPq2CV569EaAderYiBbD3ibMmisavDLiI-BySzA7Id5d4DtSDMRtXkvtSaw403ZHZlqbUyMfuHW3W8ohfRQvrQSSB1liElYmwR9cgD6nacL3ykSuVoVIvmDcL3sDM/s320/Excited_Lobster.png.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547697585424585794" /></a><br />A year or so ago, I posted a story about a crazy guest I waited on. Well, he was back in to the restaurant today so I was feeling nostalgic. Here's a story that may pep you up on what is a freezing Monday here in Birmingham.<br /><br />Enjoy:<br /><br /><a href="http://spiritualwaiter.blogspot.com/2009/11/lobster-anyone.html">Lobster, Anybody?</a>Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-24943224802968076242010-12-05T13:19:00.003-06:002010-12-05T13:55:20.420-06:00So Many Social Engagements, So Little Time...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVh8pDBjYXlE-T4rK8WvBEmBWZBF7IeWEihnh5rf0P5Ml8a6HA5En55W3RxOPNiwv-4Sk_Z0KI4NM1WjHfW1LJxznhyphenhyphenRooaVDX8ukANr0JbG8EL9C4EAJFLuXM1la5bUUk0Hhzb0p4Sgw/s1600/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVh8pDBjYXlE-T4rK8WvBEmBWZBF7IeWEihnh5rf0P5Ml8a6HA5En55W3RxOPNiwv-4Sk_Z0KI4NM1WjHfW1LJxznhyphenhyphenRooaVDX8ukANr0JbG8EL9C4EAJFLuXM1la5bUUk0Hhzb0p4Sgw/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547289200825000418" /></a><br />I have to be honest, I cannot remember the last time I looked forward to a true social engagement, party, or "get together". I love to hang out with friends, agenda-less and free. I will almost always consent to seeing live music, assuming the headliner is not a whiny teenager/young adult/midlife-crisis survivor. Sporting event? Yes. Family time? Absolutely.<br /><br />But anything that will include a bunch of people I have never met, to talk about who's who in the world of ballet or TMZ sounds as appealing as drinking tomato juice. The beauty of my current station in life is that invitations to such gatherings are few and far-between. <br /><br />This morning I was reading an article in the newspaper about the grand-daughter of a <a href="http://spiritualwaiter.blogspot.com/2010/03/bless-those-who-curse-you.html ">certain man I believe I have written on before. </a> To sum up her social position, this grand daughter, in her early 30's could buy and sell the city of Birmingham as easy as I could buy another cup of coffee. The term in the South is "Old money". <br /><br />Well, apparently, as the article explained, the woman is now involved in tossing social gatherings, cocktail parties, and other events which make my soul cringe at the mere mention. <br /><br />In the article, she was giving advice to people like me, who for one unfortunate reason or another have been conned into attending galas, receptions, what have you. How do you thrive in such a formal, awful setting?<br /><br />One particular piece of advice caught my attention. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Do not bring up topics such as religion, politics, or money- nobody wants to talk about these. You should read the newspaper and bring up important things like headline news and celebrity gossip.</span><br /><br />I wish I was making it up, but I am not. And apparently that's why I never get invited, thank God.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-38634652134148211802010-12-01T14:27:00.003-06:002010-12-01T15:01:45.699-06:00The Comforting and Terrifying TruthYesterday, I had a couple of minutes at work to sit by myself and reflect on a few things. I have been praying through the psalms for the last year or so and I have been lingering in Psalm 119 for a couple of weeks. There is really so much there to think about, to be challenged with, and to be changed by in that poem. <br /><br />What hit me yesterday as I looked out over a restaurant recovering from a busy lunch and becoming ready for an eventful night was the 105th verse, "Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light to my path." <br /><br />The beautiful thing about the psalms is that there seems to be a different angle to each and every word depending on where you are at in life. When we read thoughtfully and prayerfully, we see that there is so much more than information to be gained from reading our bibles. If we listen, we understand that God says something nuanced specifically toward our situation each day in the psalms. <br /><br />We live in a world of seemingly endless possibilities. What career path will we choose? Who will we marry? When will we have kids? What will we do to support these kids? Where will we live? What 401k plan will we invest in? Where will we have Christmas dinner this year? Ham or Turkey? What restaurant will we eat at tonight? What tv show will we watch when we get home? What color socks will we wear? <br /><br />The possibilities sometimes move from an exciting array of potentialities to a terrifying matrix of irreversible and endless decisions. <br /><br />Here is where that simple verse in the psalm can give us great comfort. God has a path for our lives. There are specific steps to each of our daily grinds that he has set forth since he even set the earth on its axis. This path may well include hard times. This path will definitely include our missteps. This path will definitely include pain. <br /><br />But the more we get to know God, the more comforting it is that he has set forth a path for us. We start to realize that his plans are good for us. We begin to see that he is in our corner, that he is on our side. <br /><br />As terrifying as the steps may be, we can start to rest in the fact that a good God has called them into existence. <br /><br />But we will walk in the darkness until we crack open the bible for more than just an information download. We need to hear from this Creator. We need a word from the one who calls all the shots. We need to learn how to express our frustration, anger, joy, contempt, thanksgiving and hard-won belief toward this God. This only comes when we start to really care about what he has to say to us on a day by day basis. <br /><br />He has promised us that he will show us not possibilities but the realities about our lives. He himself will be the lamp that exposes our steps, bringing us from stumbling in the darkness to walking in freedom.<br /><br />Is it a comforting thing that God orders your steps? Why or why not?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-35374310169057061462010-11-23T16:17:00.004-06:002010-11-23T16:46:25.614-06:00Delia, the Loving Hound<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ODTxrptzaKBq8bTjyKsQPpNJnl5bMsXfk7hl4jXWUFI2ffNVvMxGT0tAnAvKeoKM21ptfcllCEbnN0xruXVIs-ODkGClShrFP82WP64823VRC1jlpWc48uCG7JXjj1is8DkczgvKLRU/s1600/IMG_0351.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ODTxrptzaKBq8bTjyKsQPpNJnl5bMsXfk7hl4jXWUFI2ffNVvMxGT0tAnAvKeoKM21ptfcllCEbnN0xruXVIs-ODkGClShrFP82WP64823VRC1jlpWc48uCG7JXjj1is8DkczgvKLRU/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542880265602266370" /></a><br />When Delia was a puppy, I had to constantly scold her. "No, we do not chew on Casey's remote control." "No, we do not pee on Casey's carpet." "No, we do not jump up on Casey's bed." "No, we do not rip Casey's couch to shreds and make him throw it away in the dumpster." The first six or nine months I had her was characterized by a constant back-and-forth of encouragement and discipline. <br /> <br />I felt like I was constantly laying down the law, bringing the swift hand of justice over and over again. <br /><br />If you have been around animals enough, you know that you can really read them if you look at their eyes. You can see the difference of ignorance and rebellion. She had so much ignorance in her eyes. Once, I scolded her for using my kitchen as her personal latrine and I could see that she was flat-out shocked that her course of action would upset me. The look of fear in her eyes, along with her shivering in shame convinced me that I had been a bit harsh in my discipline. She just did not know the right thing to do yet. Part of her problem was that she had no real understanding of how to live life yet. She was young and she was learning. <br /><br />But another part, the part that was so frustrating, was that she would blatantly push the envelope. She was off the leash, looking back as I called her, and I could see her decide to disobey me. Delia had it in her little dog mind that my plans were not all they were cracked up to be. She doubted my goodness as a master. My plans could not be trusted and my commandments simply were not applicable to her life. <br /><br />I could tell that even when she obeyed it was because she feared the consequences of disobedience. <br /><br />But then something happened in her. She broke. After months of discipline, protection, provision, and care she decided that I was on her side. She moved past the place of dreading consequences or dismissing my words. <br /><br />I could be wrong but I think she actually <span style="font-style:italic;">wants</span> to obey me now simply because she knows she is mine. She obeys me naturally because she loves me and that is it. My plans are not up for scrutiny, for judgment, for evaluation. My plans are what she accepts as the best of all possible scenarios for her, whether that means she gets a treat, a walk, or a few hours of solitude while I am out waiting tables. <br /><br />That does not mean she obeys me perfectly, because she certainly has her days. What it does mean is that she wants to listen to me. She loves me and that alone makes my word worth heeding. <br /><br />But she had to be broke first. <br /><br />Are you claiming ignorance? Do you just plain old want to fight God? Or are you broke? The answer just may lie in your motivation. Why do you care what God says about your life?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-9439251944907780762010-11-20T10:08:00.003-06:002010-11-20T10:26:18.444-06:00Fifth-Grade Experience<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnf9wicuCfwlh0Q5ARV593KcVwL0bLTyXBwimqqrTn83SEiUhKkuEPDOdZf29n5-eHW6Dqjr7PwnfL2lEBM9X8dZMvlB-2M4MJF3lUe1BH62rlFfyKxCZ9KtAQFLTL809GAPUCkTE-3tg/s1600/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnf9wicuCfwlh0Q5ARV593KcVwL0bLTyXBwimqqrTn83SEiUhKkuEPDOdZf29n5-eHW6Dqjr7PwnfL2lEBM9X8dZMvlB-2M4MJF3lUe1BH62rlFfyKxCZ9KtAQFLTL809GAPUCkTE-3tg/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541668971952955202" /></a><br />I went up to the bar yesterday to grab a drink or two for my people and that profound, world-shaping show happened to air at that exact time. I am sure you already know that I am talking about "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Grader?" For those who have not experienced this dynamic scenario, the host is Jeff Foxworthy, yes the redneck joke guy. Every week they feature a ridiculously smart fifth-grader (or at least one who, unlike me, has been paying attention in class, not thinking about baseball during history. <br /><br />The fifth-grader is matched up against a seemingly reasonable adult and assaulted with a barrage of trivial questions which, really, everybody should know. Of course, the adult constantly has trouble with such simple questions as "Who was the longest serving supreme court justice (from 1801-1835)". When the adult forgets that John Marshall was the correct answer, usually the fifth-grader jumps in with a healthy dose of knowledge. <br /><br />And it struck me on the way home last night that this is a pretty good picture of the Christian life, recovery, and discipleship. Here you have a kid who has a lot of knowledge that is completely and utterly unhindered by experience. In case it gets lost in the shuffle, a fifth-grade kid has absolutely no idea how to live in the real world. If you have any objections, see the brilliant Tom Hanks Classic "Big".<br /><br />So it is strange when a new guy comes into our community of recovering addicts and disciples of Jesus because they always seem to know the right answers. It is uncanny. It is also unhelpful. <br /><br />Because if you need to know a state capital, you should ask your kid, but if you need to know how to live your life, it may be a good idea to ask your dad. Life is so much more than knowing a ton of disconnected facts or having a bunch of good ideas. <br /><br />Maybe the better title to the show would be "Nobody is interested in the advice of somebody who has yet to live". That may be a bit harsh. Or is it?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-29011639409985134152010-11-18T13:49:00.003-06:002010-11-18T14:34:43.373-06:00Ill-Advised Handshakes and Social Contract BreaksSometimes living life with next to no rules can get you into trouble. Now, don't get me wrong, there is no way I would give up my sanity to have a set of standards by which I live my life, but still it would be handy sometimes to be more like <a href="http://www.apuritansmind.com/christianwalk/ResolutionsOfJonathanEdwards.htm">Jonathan Edwards</a> than St. Francis of Assisi. I mean, really, how many rules can a naked guy who preaches to birds have going through his mind at a single moment?<br /><br />The proviso to living in complete Christian freedom is that you must be prepared to make a complete and utter moron of yourself from time to time. Trust me, it will happen. Are you craving an example yet? Ask and you shall receive. <br /><br />So last night I was in a fine mood. This week has started off looking a bit more profitable than the past few at work and I had enjoyed a fantastic day of writing and hanging out with good friends before work. I am beginning to find that these times of relaxed joy and peace are also times that can wreak havoc on the tables I wait on. It is quite simple, when I feel loose, I am liable to say or do just about anything that pops into my head, circumventing any decision-making process involving rules whatsoever.<br /><br />So when a friendly couple sat down for dinner on their anniversary, I was suddenly inspired to shake hands with the gentleman, extending my well-wishes and greetings. As you may have guessed, this is where having a world dictated by rules would have come in handy. To state a rather obvious rule, it is not good etiquette for a waiter to offer a handshake at the beginning of a meal. But who needs rules when you are free, right?<br /><br />As I stuck my hand out, I envisioned writing this very story about the dos and don'ts of waiting on tables. I was further convinced of my fau pax when my new friend refused to shake my hand. Now, this is not the first time this has happened, in fact, there are quite a few people in the world who have a standard of when to shake hands and when to refuse handshakes. The rest of us are out of luck. <br /><br />What made him a bit unique was the fact that he felt the need to verbalize his objection to shaking my hand. <br /><br />"I am sorry I cannot shake your hand, I just washed mine."<br /><br />"No problem", I quickly responded, trying desperately to bypass any further interaction in this increasingly awkward situation. I moved on to the specials, recommendations of the day and warmly encouraged them to let me know when they were ready to order. Catastrophe averted.<br /><br />That is, of course, until the next time I approached the table. The man had a guilty conscience about breaking the unstated social contract, whether or not my handshake was appropriately timed. For a second time he made verbal the fact that he was sorry not to have shaken my hand. For a second time I assured him that there was really no problem. If you feel odd shaking somebody's hand, what is it that compels you to make restitution? Why not refuse the handshake boldly?<br /><br />I think the real issue in this story centers around freedom and strenuous law-keeping. I was free to extend a handshake with the understanding that I may well have been rejected in my quest. He was free to refuse the handshake with the understanding that the situation may well have turned awkward for a moment. <br /><br />But there was something insidiously freedom-denying about the felt-need to always explain ourselves. Do you feel the need for explaining your every action, thought, desire, and word? That kind of rule-keeping will wear you out and keep you from living as a free man. <br /><br />I think I would rather be free to be a complete moron than to be bound to explain my every movement. What about you?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-2306257144757112022010-11-10T14:40:00.000-06:002010-11-10T14:41:46.068-06:00The Devil SpeaksThe devil has been speaking to me lately. He has been whispering lies into my ears. <span style="font-style:italic;">You are not doing a thing with your life.</span> He says this to me as I wake up in the morning, sometimes right after 9 o’clock. <span style="font-style:italic;">So this is what you will do with two degrees in theology?</span> He tells me this as I get dressed and head into work at the restaurant. <span style="font-style:italic;">So this why you spent all that time working on your sermon writing and delivery?</span> He tells me this when I am telling guests about a special fish or drink. <br /> <br />The reason I know this is the devil speaking to me is that these are all lies. Every single one of them and a thousand more. He mocks my decision to move across the country, following the call of God which has me, at present, waiting tables thirty-five to forty hours a week and volunteering in a local ministry. <br /><br />The devil reminds me of the time when I was 18 and getting my first opportunities to preach, playing baseball, and pretty much living as easy as I will ever have it. He reminds me of my last two years in college when I was teaching regularly, albeit to a small group of students. And the devil tells me that my days waiting tables are abject wastes of my time. <br /><br />The main problem is that I believe him nine times out of ten. <br /><br />Satan knows which note to play for me, to lure me out of faith in Christ into the grayish area of unbelief. If he can convince me that the mundane events of my day are meaningless, he can bring me to self-pity. If for a minute I agree with him that my job is inconsequential, he can draw me out of a place where I trust that God has good intentions for my life. <br /><br />The devil plays the same chords of pride over and over again in the soundtrack of my heart. Maybe he does the same to you, convincing you that the every day mundane activities of your life do not matter. Maybe he has you convinced right now that the minutia of your life is keeping you away from constant contact with, reliance on, and faith in Christ. <br /><br />Those are lies. <br /><br />God is so intimately concerned with us that he makes every moment come under his good authority. All of our lives are lived in the presence of God. He is there when you get up early and go to work, whether that will entail nailing shingles on roofs, selling drills, waiting on tables, counseling the hurting, or preparing to preach on Sunday. All of life is lived in the presence of God. <br /><br />And so he has me where he has wanted me since before he spoke the worlds into existence. He wanted me on November 10, 2010 to be preparing to wait tables for the next 5½ hours. He wanted me to tell others about the daily specials in a way that honors him. He wanted me to reflect his love, compassion, and glory by describing dishes of food and glasses of wine. <br /><br />If we are really concerned with entrusting our lives over to God on a moment-to-moment basis, we have to be willing to be in the places he calls us. That may seem too simple, but it is not. <br /><br />God has designed our world with great attention to detail. We need to nail shingles on because somebody needs a roof. And how will the roofer get his tools if there is not a salesman? And how will there be a salesman without a manufacturer? And who will manufacture what is not designed? <br /><br />And at the end of the day, one of those people is going to need a meal. Every now and again, he is going to need a night to relax, be waited on, and to enjoy some physical fruits of his labor. God has me coming in here, now. <br /><br />God may very well call me out of this job to what I thought I was preparing for, but you know what, maybe he won’t. And if I am really concerned with his kingdom and not my own, I will accept this gift with a thankful, believing heart.<br /><br />The devil will continually woo us out of dependence on the will of God whether it be through pride or shame. Let us stay alert, looking at all times for His presence, will, and good pleasure in our daily tasks.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-18340017555520108612010-10-28T15:52:00.005-05:002010-10-28T16:40:34.349-05:00Superman, Cliff Lee, Jesus, and You<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2ey2kCm2fxqJBXyHqnDXP3mhrrq4X8_Z7RMXktDQhTEjxTrS-deCsDotDdy7n2956QHbfeIcR11tk3FrXEuMPgcfwf8VXgXNnkodoRC2WzRnx8eYLRxmQ1OtQNP3VHM2ziypCqW-yzA/s1600/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2ey2kCm2fxqJBXyHqnDXP3mhrrq4X8_Z7RMXktDQhTEjxTrS-deCsDotDdy7n2956QHbfeIcR11tk3FrXEuMPgcfwf8VXgXNnkodoRC2WzRnx8eYLRxmQ1OtQNP3VHM2ziypCqW-yzA/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533215054571375026" /></a><br />I spent the last week at Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida with my good friends Tal and Jim. I think that was the first technical vacation any of the three of us have had in the past couple of years. Tal works more than anybody has a right to, Jim stays busy, and I have noticed that most of my "vacations" over the years have included times of very fruitful work. These are good things, but it was so nice to have a week of acting like children, riding roller coasters and cracking inane jokes. <br /><br />Among the swath of rides we tested out several times, The Incredible Hulk, and Spiderman were by far my favorites. I remembered that growing up, I was a fan these superheroes. I also loved that Batman would sup up his suit to even create super-powers out of plain-old American ingenuity. And Superman? What kid can claim to be free of an abiding love for the Caped Crusader? <br /><br />As if to make the vacation even more fun, my beloved San Francisco Giants were on their way to reaching the World Series for the third time in my life. The real truth is that roller-coasters and super-heroes were all well and good for me growing up but my real super-heroes were baseball players. Let somebody else save Gotham City, I wanted to play shortstop for the Giants, live outside the city, and retire sometime in my 40's. <br /><br />Baseball players seemed like real supermen, and they always will have some of that place in my mind. But last night reminded me of a very important fact. Men are men. A World Series pitcher is every bit as much a human being, fallible and flawed as the rest of us.<br /><br />So onto the field stepped the Superman for the Texas Rangers, Cliff Lee, who had won 7 of his first 8 starts in his postseason career. He was unbeatable. His fastball was quicker than a speeding bullet. His curveball could swoop with all the force of an anvil dropped from the sky. He was super-human, right?<br /><br />Wrong. Cliff Lee proved to be just as human and prone to failure as the man in Center Field behind him, the recovering-addict/Jesus-loving Josh Hamilton. Lee was just as human as his counterpart, the Giants' slight-of-build/marijuana-toting 2-time defending Cy Young Award winning Tim Lincecum. He was human. <br /><br />It is strange, isn't it, when we see somebody we thought to be "above all this humanity" be really human. <br /><br />Instead of Superman, the mild-mannered Clark Kent showed up. No Hulk, only the frightened Bruce Banner. No upstanding Batman, just crummy playboy Bruce Wayne. No Spiderman, just nerdy, insecure little Peter Parker. <br /><br />So much of life is confronting the stark reality that this world is not a place for idealism. We live in a down-to-earth reality and we must deal on the basis of that reality rather than our self-imagined fantasy. Our wide-eyed idealism we once had is either slowly whittled away or comes crashing down on top of us. Sooner or later, we are confronted with the choice to accept reality as it is or to re-construct our own interpretation of the way things are. <br /><br />This is where the gospel meets us. Christ did not become ideal man, nor did he come to us as one who could outrun a herd of camels, let alone a locomotive. When he overturned the tables in the temple, it didn't look a thing like the Hulk, probably more like a frustrated Bruce Banner. <br /><br />The fact that Christ became real man is not only something nice for us to remember. This fact should transform the way we see everything. We now see that God has revealed himself as one of us, however much greater he may be intrinsically. <br /><br />In Christ, not only does God show himself, but man is also revealed for the first time. <br /><br />Not with any super-powers, just with dependence on God and love for his neighbor. Not conspicuously, but in humble obedience. Not flying, but kneeling. Not conquering, but submitting. <br /><br />Now we know what it means to be man. We don't strive to be super. We don't seek to be unique. We don't look to be revolutionaries. We humbly seek God's will and live in love toward one another. <br /><br />The guys playing baseball on television tonight are not ideal human beings. Neither are you. Neither am I. But do you know what the good news is? God is the Father of Christ, Lee, Lincecum, Hamilton, you and I. Even more, Jesus is not afraid to call us brothers. He loves us because he has made us his brothers and sisters. He approves of us based upon his own work and not ours. <br /><br />He is after the real you. He wants the guy behind the mask, behind the stats, and behind the closed doors. <br /><br />He lives for men, not supermen. That's good news for guys like us.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-1938927548669889102010-10-16T13:22:00.001-05:002010-10-16T13:27:57.321-05:00Baseball and the Gospel of JesusWhen I was a kid, my brother Jay, my best friend Jason and I were the cornerstones of our baseball team. I would play shortstop or pitch, Jay would catch, and Jason would play second base. We would play every inning all season, year after year. This created something of a problem because my dad was also the coach of our team. As is the case in many youth sports activities, the charge of nepotism was often muttered in the bleachers by upset mothers, wondering why their sons played only a few innings a game. <br /> <br />I remember once, when I was around fourteen years old, my dad was out of town for the weekend of a little league game. My dad’s friend Rob had been an assistant coach for him since we were a little year or so too old for tee ball, and he had taken over the duties for that Saturday morning. <br /><br />Now, Rob had been hearing the same complaints from the same parents for all those years. In the interest of keeping the peace, Rob had decided that day to start the game with Jay, Jason, and I on the bench. <br /><br /> Of course, when the three of us saw the lineup, we were understandably puzzled, and asked Rob why we were the odd men out for the first times in our lives. After he leveled with us, treating us with the respect of adults, we all had a good laugh and settled in to watch our friends play ball. <br /><br /> After only a few innings, our second-string lineup had amassed a swath of strike outs and had committed a comedy of errors, putting us into a humungous, seemingly insurmountable hole. All the while, the three of us sat patiently beside, cheering our teammates on, even in their collective weakness. <br /><br /> At the same time, Rob was also watching the mothers in the stands begin to understand their progeny’s lack of playing time. <br /><br /> When he was convinced that his point was across, and with only an inning or two left in the game, our coach made three changes. Jay, Jason, and I resumed our positions and led our team back from our sizable early hole en route to easily winning the game. <br /><br /> Over the years, I would find myself in the bench warming position, so would see the game from the perspective of the “have-nots” of the athletic world. That can be a painful experience. You work, struggle, and wait for the job as a difference-maker, and you do your very best in the spots you are given to play. <br /><br />It is a difficult thing to come to terms with the fact that your very best just is not good enough. It strips all pride away from you, or at least it would if you were bold enough to face the facts.<br /> <br /> This is what God’s law does for us. It is really a good thing, a gift, that God has given us the 10 Commandments, among other direct commands in the bible. Maybe the reason we think the commands are a good thing is a bit skewed. Allow me to demonstrate.<br /><br />Let's say I went to the courthouse and protested the taking down of the 10 Commandments at City Hall. I am upset that our code for living the Judeo-Christian ethic has been stripped away. How is anybody supposed to live if our city councilmen take away our freedom to live under the law?<br /><br />Does that make any sense when put that way? Let us say it another way, “We cannot fulfill the law of God in any sense of the word”. It is as if we were that benchwarmer, sitting and wondering why we are not allotted our “God-Given” playing time. <br /> If we ever needed evidence that we are utter failures at obeying God, all we need to do is to enter the game of life. Stop telling fans, your mother, the media, or your coach how good of a job you would do, given the chance to be a really good moral agent, and enter the game of life. If you are bold enough to face the facts, it will not be long before you realize that even the first of the 10 Commandments that you want proudly displayed at every city hall has condemned you. <br /> Or can you honestly say that you have no problem placing other things before God?<br /> <br /> No, the law of God was never intended to be a point of dutiful obedience. It would never give us success in right standing before God. It was not designed for this purpose. <br /><br />The law of God does for us what Rob did for us those many years ago. The gift he gave was to simply let the benchwarmers have a shot at being the mainstays on the team. If they were bold enough to face the facts, they would welcome a change. <br /><br />The law humbles us into welcoming a change into our lives. And the great news is that there is a change not only possible but provided for in the person of the God-Man Jesus Christ. He alone has completely, fully, and finally lived life in obedience to the revealed law of God. <br /><br />If we would only let the law of God become a source of humility instead of pride in our lives, we could see the richness of a Christ who has taken care of all the obedience we owed to God in his life. Then he paid for our inabilities to fulfill the law in his death, purchasing new resurrection life, and sitting down at the right hand of the Father in our place! <br /> <br />Does the law of God arm you with pride? Perhaps you should enter the game of life. Does the law of God humble you, proving your insufficiency to please God? Run to the cross. Christ is there, pleading perfection on your behalf. <br /><br /> The game of life has already been won. Will you bemoan missed opportunities or rejoice in the God whose victory is your victory?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-61694717588484397492010-09-29T14:04:00.002-05:002010-09-29T15:44:53.134-05:00God is Still For UsThis is the third shot I have made at writing a story of virtually no consequence. To save you the details, it was about a coworker whose lack of effort was met by my anger and un-gospel-ish behavior toward him. I was going to tell you about my encounter with James 1:20 this morning. The verse reads "The anger of man does not accomplish the righteousness of God."<br /><br />If I may be perfectly honest, the story was overly complicated and so dreadfully pointless that I could hardly stomach reading the first installment of it. I realized about half-way through that my words were not so much gospel as venting of frustration. Seriously, who needs to spend time reading about how I was frustrated with a dude that I work with? <br /><br />I would much rather you read about the gospel than to read pointless ramblings. I would rather you fix your mind on the fact that God became man, lived our lives for us, died our deaths for us, rose to new life to give us real life, sits at the Father's right hand right now and prays for us.<br /><br />I would rather you find in my writing the only thing that is really important, that is the person and work of Jesus and his current, unchangeable position as God-for-us. <br /><br />Over the past few weeks, I have had a hard time feeling that these things are true. A good example would have been the now deleted story about my quick temper the other night. But do you know what makes me really happy as I write these words?<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">That has not changed the truth one bit.</span><br /><br />My own struggle to grasp the gospel has not made the gospel any less true. The fact that you and I have a hard time accepting the grace of Christ on a moment-to-moment basis does not change God's attitude toward any of us who are in Christ. <br /><br />For all the times we have looked inward and wallowed in confusion, despair, emptiness, and disbelief, let us take a look out of ourselves, if only for a brief moment. <br /><br />God has promised that even these times will work together for our good. God is for us because of Jesus.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-75627119997320442772010-08-19T11:14:00.007-05:002010-08-19T11:26:10.790-05:00To Forgive or Not to Forgive<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDswVug-UUvWbALV1mbhZ0gfpCsJklP5Q2wuhPQP6ZJMXEWfMVtH2Br6ucfdbzxyM7dYHrPoMzFIKKjq1INIeHeYdCW0GVwcltVs9L39bhB5EAfpP6lrHHlEx8bD9lb6khI45hdFE5RE/s1600/DownloadedFile.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDswVug-UUvWbALV1mbhZ0gfpCsJklP5Q2wuhPQP6ZJMXEWfMVtH2Br6ucfdbzxyM7dYHrPoMzFIKKjq1INIeHeYdCW0GVwcltVs9L39bhB5EAfpP6lrHHlEx8bD9lb6khI45hdFE5RE/s320/DownloadedFile.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507158096720893858" /></a><br />I am well-aware, faithful reader, that I have let you down in my recent posts, which have had little-to-nothing to do with the absurdities of waiting on tables. In an attempt to right this grievous wrong, please accept this story as a recompense. <br /><br /><br />We have an elderly couple who define the word “regulars”. When they walk through the door, we automatically reach for the same bottle of wine and sparkling water without waiting for them to ask. We also cook their bread in a specific manner every time, whether it is a lazy Tuesday evening or a busy Saturday night. On second thought, the word “regular” is a bit weak when used in reference to these old folks. <br /><br />I have waited on them in easy excess of fifty times over the last four years and I have always at least endured the crotchetiness of the old man with a smile on my face. The fact that he is an old buzzard is offset by the fact that his wife is a regal old Southern woman. Over the years I have learned to run all my communication through her, so as to avoid the misfortune of talking to her husband. <br /><br />Last Friday, I was finishing my third double in as many days, and my usually paltry patience had been worn down, when I was graced with the old couples’ presence. <br /><br />Now, I could go on and on about how the old man shooed me away as I was pouring him water, but I will refrain. I could also go on and on, detailing the several times he would change his mind throughout the course of his meal, but I will spare you such details. Likewise, I could go on about the continual verbal dressing-down he was trying to work on me, but I will refrain from this as well. Finally, I will refrain from telling you about the fact that the old man complained to anybody who would listen about the horrible waiter he had waiting on him that night. <br /><br />What I will tell you about is what the old woman would tell me when he had left the table to bring the car around. <br /><br />As I said before, I have always thought the old woman was about as sweet as anybody I know, even though she keeps a proper distance in the diner-waiter relationship. That is why what she did Friday night caught me completely off-guard. Do you know what she did? <br /><br />She apologized. <br /><br />She told me, in very genuine, simple words, that she was sorry for the way her husband had treated me. She said she was afraid her husband had upset me (which, indeed, he had) and that she was sorry on his behalf. <br /><br />She even told me that her husband was “not the man he used to be.” <br /><br />Later that night, quite unbeknownst to me, she would call back into the restaurant and again express her apologies to the management for her husband’s unkind behavior. <br /><br />And wouldn’t you know that this simple act changed me? She introduced the opportunity of forgiveness into the situation. I was faced, as we often are, with an extremely minute, yet extremely important decision. To forgive or not to forgive?<br /><br />But that is the question that haunts us on a moment-by-moment basis. Will I forgive the one who has wronged me? This is the place Jesus will meet us for sure. It is only through him that I am able to forgive, and so look like my Father in heaven. It is not only the “big” things in life that need to be forgiven, it goes to every moment of our lives. <br /><br />And what about myself? What if I am my own enemy? What if my actions have left not only those around me devastated, but even my own heart has turned against me? Who can bring forgiveness to me? <br /><br />This too, is exactly where Jesus, the God-Man will meet us. If we wait for him.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-36209650500765522562010-08-07T09:27:00.008-05:002010-08-07T10:59:59.495-05:00Hell, Righteousness, and LoveWhy does God threaten us with eternal punishment? <br /><br />It seems like an extreme move on his part, does it not? An abuse of power, perhaps? Oh, sorry, I forgot to invite you to put aside your Sunday School answers for a minute. Why does God threaten us with hell?<br /><br />Let us go at this in a way we can understand. As you may or may not know, I love to watch Law and Order. The cops find the bad guy, usually accompanied by a nice sarcastic comment or two, and Sam Waterston seeks justice for the state- for the "people". Sometimes cases are settled only by the judge, harkening back to days of yore, or whatever.<br /><br />Certainly we can respect a judge for handing down the maximum sentence, right? We may be excited when the career criminal is finally found out and handed a life-sentence. We can respect the judge for putting him away for as long as the letter of the law will allow. <br /><br />But personally, I would have a hard time loving a judge who hands out the maximum sentence on a regular basis. It seems a bit much to me. Are you with me? Maximum sentences may be just but merciful? Compassionate? Not the first words I would choose to describe such a judge. <br /><br />What does it say about God that he would punish fully, eternally, and to the letter of the law? Is he still loving if he is willing to be just?<br /><br />And what does it say about the infraction of the law we must have committed to warrant such a sentence? If God remains God in spite of my rebellion, what is it to him that I get angry waiting tables? He is still God and his will is still going to get accomplished. What is it to him that I hate both God and neighbor?<br /><br />But is this not the very reason God must punish fully, eternally, and to the letter of the law? We are not jaywalkers but felons. We are not clumsy, we are perpetrators. We are not sick, we are evil. We are not guilty of manslaughter, its first-degree murder. To put it biblically, we are not bystanders, but enemies. Paul told us that we were enemies, hostile in mind towards God.<br /><br />If you think long and hard, even making a list of the ones you have wronged, you too will agree with Paul. <br /><br />What is exacting justice? Is it something like "Eye for and eye"? If you are a Christian, remember that Exodus 21:24 may be ugly but it is still in the bible. Even the taking a life may be ethically acceptable depending on the severity of the case.<br /><br />So what happens when your offense, or standing as an offender, is against an eternal God? If he is boundless, would your offense and therefore your sentence also would be boundless, right? This is the one we have offended, and so goes our sentence. It is bad news but it is no less true.<br /><br />This can bring us one of three places. First, you can try to make up your sentence on your own. How many hours of community service will it take, for instance, to work off the death penalties accumulated by being angry at your fellow-man? Good luck with that.<br /><br />The second option is to completely give up. Well, God will never forgive me, so screw him! Why would I want a God who cares if I answer for my actions anyway? Who needs a God that is concerned with what he has made? I hope you see the problem with such a course of action. <br /><br />The third option is to listen to this God. In Jesus Christ, God offers us a new identity. Instead of "sinner", he offers the identity "saint". In the place of "enemy", God, in Christ, offers us the title "beloved". <br /><br />This is the new identity Jesus bought for us in becoming a man, living our life for us, dying our death for us, and raising to new life on our behalf.<br /><br />Did you know that Jesus himself was not ashamed to be made sin for us? He took us from, as Paul said, "the domain of darkness" and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved son. Now we have all the love God has for Jesus applied to us. In Christ, God loves us fully, completely, eternally, and boundlessly.<br /><br />Did you see that? It was not clever, but if I were you, I would read it again. And again. And again. <br /><br />God is for us in Christ. He offers us a way out of owning all the guilt, shame, condemnation, and hell we deserve. He does by a simple invitation to life in Christ.<br /><br />We have all tried to do community service to try and make God happy. It did not work. We have given up at other times and where did that lead us? Today God, in Christ is for us. What he offers not immunity from the law but fulfillment of the law because of Jesus.<br /><br />As my pastor and friend Tal says "that's a really good day".Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-6614238475828777092010-07-30T12:26:00.004-05:002010-07-30T13:19:32.541-05:00I've Been Thinking About ForgivenessIt really is unfortunate. Every time I hear the word "forgiveness", I think of Don Henley. You know the song, you cannot deny the facts. "I'm trying to get back to the heart of the matter/but my flesh gets weak/and my thoughts seem to scatter/but I think it's about forgiveness, forgiveness/even if even if you don't love me anymore". So now you feel my pain, and for that, you are welcome. Also, now you are thanking me for a month free of new posts. For that you are also welcome.<br /><br />It is unfortunate that I think of this song when the word comes up because this word is at the heart of the gospel. Jesus loved to talk about forgiveness, right? In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told us, "If you are at the altar and you remember that your brother has something against you, leave your sacrifice and go be reconciled with your brother." Does this sound like a theoretical principle or a command to you?<br /><br />The reason I ask the question is that I think we interpret clear commands of Jesus, especially like this one, in a theoretical, abstract way. Yes, in principle it is great to go ahead and seek forgiveness from people. We may not even argue with Jesus when he tells Peter that he should forgive his brother not 7 times but 7 times 70 times! We may be in the background with the other disciples snickering at Peter. What a dope! Forgive only 7 times, what a dumb question! Boy, am I glad I waited till Peter asked that! <br /><br />But when we read commands like this they roll off our back like water off a duck, or am I alone?<br /><br />In theory, in principle, in abstraction, as an idea or concept, we have no real problem with forgiveness. It kind of makes us feel Bob Marley-esque. We can now, with a clear conscience, sing along, "Let's get together and feel alright." <br /><br />Like so many things in life, though, forgiveness only means something as we do it. We do not know what it is to forgive until we actually have the opportunity to forgive.<br /><br />It is like last night at the restaurant. I was the "closer", which on these slow nights means that you are the guy twiddling your thumbs for the last two hours of business. Well, like the Bob Marley admirer and freedom-fighter I am, I went ahead and let all my support staff leave about and hour and a half early. John Lennon himself may have even been proud. <br /><br />As anyone can guess, that would be the time I had four tables walk in in succession. I was in good shape, close to the end of my rope but still hanging on, as it were. Then it happened. Three of my tables needed drinks at the time and Amy, our bartender had already mentally clocked out for the night. I started to get uptight but kept my cool for a while. <br /><br />When she realized my increasingly tense demeanor, she stepped it up and helped me out for the moment. When I realized a couple minutes later that I had ordered one of the drinks wrong, I needed her help again. Again, she was too distracted to help me out.<br /><br />This time, I circumvented her help and made the drink myself, walking right past Amy on the way to help myself. She could tell that I was frustrated and that she had helped to increase my frustration. It was not the end of the world but I won't lie, it did make me angry. She is one of the best at helping me out when I need it and here she was, leaving me high and dry. <br /><br />Later on something happened. Amy came to me and said she was sorry. She realized she had not done her job and made mine harder and she had no excuses. The ball was in my court. The choice was simple. Do I extend forgiveness or do I ignore Jesus?<br /><br />Now, I know myself well enough to know I cannot forgive even the most minor of infractions without the direct help of God, so when I say I extended forgiveness, it is not a reflection on me but on Christ. <br /><br />Forgiveness became more than a concept, it was a reality. It was more than an idea, it was something that took root in the world. That is what forgiveness does, it places both feet in reality, owns up to wrongs done, hurts caused, and decides, through the help of God, to obey the command of forgiveness. <br /><br />And when Amy and I see each other tonight, we will be on good terms- not faking peace, but having our friendship strengthened by obeying the command of Christ together. <br /><br />Admittedly, this is a light and surface example of forgiveness. One more question, though. At what point will it be a good thing to ignore Jesus' words? When a friend betrays us? When a lover leaves us? When a boss fires us? When a father mistreats us? <br /><br />Now these are hard words, right? But are they any less true?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-42229894540612302582010-07-03T11:37:00.007-05:002010-07-03T16:58:21.251-05:00Reflections on July FourthI love America. My dad's dad served in our military around the time of the Korean War. A few good friends from my childhood are currently still serving in our Armed Forces and one of my best friends in the world is serving as a Captain in the Army National Guard, where he serves to train soldiers. When Sunday rolls around, you can bet that I will listen to Ray Charles' version of <span style="font-style:italic;">America the Beautiful</span>. He was my late grandmother's favorite singer- she served in our military as well. <br /><br />I have little and declining patience for snarky comments made by those who have never done a thing but write a blog about how unjust the United States' government is in our foreign policy. So I write this blog as one who has never signed up for service. I have only fired a gun under my second amendment rights which have been so long protected by my brave fellow-Americans. <br /><br />Regardless of your views (or mine) concerning immigration reform, working with several immigrants who have held various prestigious positions in Mexico who have moved their families to America will open your eyes to how specially blessed we are to have our natural citizenship in America. I love America.<br /><br />Philosophers have long seen a difference between being a patriot and being a nationalist. Our government was not founded on a nationalistic basis, but on a patriotic one. A patriot sees government in its proper place. The government is not an absolute authority but derives its authority from in the design and command of God. This is the type of thing we see in Romans 13. Government derives from God. Our obedience to government is expected so long as that will not conflict with obedience to God himself. <br /><br />Like so many other things, the question here comes down to worship. Another word for worship is service. Obedience is another closely related term. Who do we worship? Who do we serve? Who are we obedient to? <br /><br />Another way to put it may be, do you love America for God's sake or do you love America for her own sake? Still another way to put it may be, do you serve God or an idol? One of the truest things the great theologian John Calvin said was that our hearts are idol-factories. There is a fine line between loving your culture for God's sake (patriotism) and loving your culture for its own sake (nationalism). That line seems to blur on days like the 4th of July. <br /><br />This brings us to the question of the worship of Christ in his church on the 4th of July. Do we sing "Yankee Doodle Dandy" together as the people of God? Do we sing "America the Beautiful" together as the people of God? My answer may be obvious at this point but I will write clearly. I think we are selling our witness as the people of God to the word of God by worshipping something other than God. Does this make sense? I may need help to say this more clearly. Enter my favorite writer, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. <br /><br />Bonhoeffer preached these words four weeks after Adolf Hitler and the National Socialist party came into power back in 1933: <br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;">The church has only one pulpit, and from that pulpit, faith in God will be preached, and no other faith, and no other than <br /> the will of God, however well-intentioned.</span><br /><br />Of course, we are not Nazis, we are above trading obedience to Christ for nationalistic loyalty, right? Maybe the Nazis were worse sinners than we are; maybe the complicit church of Germany were different than we are. If you have a way to prove that from the bible, I would like to see it. <br /><br />The truth is that we are all capable of trading loyalty to Christ for nationalistic zeal baptized in religious language. The good news is that we have a word, an answer as the people of God. We have his word. This is really what makes us unique as the church. We are not a religious organization or a moose club. We are a community that bears the joyful burden of God's revelation of himself to us for our good- for the good of our fellow Americans.<br /><br />I pray that we, as the church, will use the 4th of July to preach Christ. I pray that we will sing to him with joyful hearts. I pray that we will be moved to not draw away from our country but to love our fellow Americans with Jesus-formed lives.<br /><br />Then let's watch the fireworks, drink a beer, listen to Ray Charles, thank God for our nation, and pray for the courage to proclaim Christ in our day-to-day lives.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-60808695954166625002010-07-01T10:09:00.008-05:002010-07-01T10:57:13.799-05:00I Don't Mean To Complain, But...Has this sentence ever led to anything but a complaint? "I don't mean to complain, but my air conditioner is broken." "I don't mean to complain, but you overcharged me." "I don't mean to complain, but you are a jerk." <br /><br />This may be a little-known fact, but 83% of all uses of this phrase occur in a restaurant and 99.9% (give or take a tenth of a percent) are immediately followed by a bellyache, complaint, or a sorrow-filled request. See, those are what you call cold-hard facts. Statistics do not lie (even if the guy telling you the statistics is making them up). Allow me to illustrate.<br /><br />So there I was last night, doing my thing, waiting on tables, when I got seated with my final table of the night, a couple celebrating their anniversary. These are usually some very simple tables. Who in his right mind would jeopardize the benefits of an anniversary evening by becoming whiny and uptight with their waiter? To me the dude who acts rudely in this situation is the doofus among the doofuses. As we all know from personal experience, unfortunately, we sons of Adam rarely do things that make sense, even to ultimately benefit ourselves. <br /><br />Well, I talked for a minute with the couple and offered a drink. He ordered a drink that I had never heard of, which is becoming rare after four years taking odd drink orders. "No worries", I said, following up with a simple question of the ingredients in his desired concoction. His response? "You will have to look it up on the internet or something". Can you see why we are already becoming best friends? <br /><br />As you may imagine, his drink was subpar according to his exacting standards. So was his wife's, which was apparently too sour (when two out of three words in a name are "Lemon" and "Drop", it would seem to be a compliment to call something sour). While there was plenty of complaints from our friend, there was nothing he would allow me to do to remedy his problems. This is what we like to call passive-aggressive behavior. Every problem has some sort of solution, we usually would just rather complain than seek a remedy, right?<br /><br />Anyhow, let us jump ahead to the medium-well ribeyes that were extraordinarily tough. He saved our favorite line for this occasion. "I don't mean to complain, but we come here every month and these are the worst ribeyes we have ever had here." With this said, he chose to eat in protest rather than have the problem remedied(On a side-note, I have worked exactly 44 months at the Steak House all told, and this was the first I have seen of him). In the end, he simply wanted to complain rather than to seek a remedy. Sound familiar?<br /><br />We are all under the same curse when it comes to useless complaining. Please do not tell me you are above all this. Speaking for myself, the amount of useless complaining I do around my apartment is enough to indict me on the charge of passive-aggressive maneuvering. I just did a load of dishes not a half-hour ago that I had stared at for days waiting for my roommates to accomplish. Why did I not simply ask one of them to take care of their dishes? I think the answer is that I would rather complain than seek for a solution. It just feels better to complain about others than to take responsibility on myself. I would rather complain than to seek remedies or solutions to these ridiculously simple matters. Are you the same way?<br /><br />Maybe we will think the next time we say something silly like "I don't mean to complain, but...", however, the deeper issue will still be there. We are whiners as sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. That is why the gospel of Jesus is so different. The Apostle Paul wrote (from prison!) "Do all things without grumbling or questioning". He said that would make followers of Jesus shine like lights in the world!<br /><br />Can you imagine a whole people who lived life without complaining? That would change everything, right? More importantly, can you imagine your own life unclouded by useless whining? Well, you have a chance right now. Will you live in the light of the gospel this moment which gives you remedy or will you wallow in your passive-aggressive whining? <br /><br />If you don't mean to complain, there is a remedy for that. Jesus can free us of even this. Even now.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-37404647026790186972010-06-21T09:16:00.003-05:002010-06-21T09:47:49.801-05:00Are You Free?Like a lot of supposed soccer fans, I have been watching the World Cup quite a bit in the last few weeks. I will be clear, it is a fantastic sporting event which will magically move me to watch a plethora of futball (for those who live outside the US, or American social structure). This Cup (if I am using the proper slang) has been different and a bit special. It is the first World Cup ever to be held in Africa and this is in South Africa, nonetheless. <br /><br />As per usual, ESPN has not missed a beat to talk about things other than sports, so they have talked quite a bit about the very recent Apartheid and the freedom attained over imperialistic slavery by this very generation. <br /><br />It reminds me a bit of Birmingham, where I have lived in exile from California for the last four years. I have met and studied with a woman who was best friends with one of the little girls who died in the 16th Street Bombings back in the tumultuous 60's right here in this city. <br /><br />We see the struggle for freedom and we all identify in some respects with these historical examples. But why? Allow me to answer by way of illustration. <br /><br />Just yesterday I was waiting on a table and trying my best to keep a clear head on my shoulders. It was late in my shift and I had been generally undertipped, which is the norm for Hallmark holidays, like Fathers' Day, but I was determined to do my job as well as I could- it was not these folks' fault I wanted to go home, afterall. <br /><br />Things were going well enough when something happened that has happened many times before. It bothered me for a second yesterday but only for a second. There I was, walking to and fro around the table, verbally confirming the well-prepared food and outward happiness of the table. All was well, so I stood a few feet to the side and waited. <br /><br />Not two minutes after I left the table, I was startled by a shout. <br /><br />"SIR" (I hate being called sir, formality I guess, but how could she know that?)<br /><br />I went back to the table to attend to the meaningless detail she felt compelled to cry out over and I took care of her need. It also made me think a bit. We really do not feel free, do we?<br /><br />Why would free people feel compelled to make demands upon other free people? Of course, I am not talking about the job itself. I do not mind fetching an extra side of dressing or filling up water. I do mind being shouted at and spoken down to. It just wears on you, I suppose.<br /><br />If we really believed we were free, we would value others as more important than ourselves. We could properly see our brothers and sisters in the light of who they are. They were made to be free in Jesus Christ, whether they are a waiter, a mechanic, a professor, a housewife. We were all made to be free in the One free God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ.<br /><br />This is not just freedom from sin (Though it is), nor is it just freedom from wrath (though it is). This is freedom to properly see every person as loved and infinitely valued by God.<br /><br />Can you imagine how the world would change if we believed we were free?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-83495624881814662172010-06-10T12:15:00.005-05:002010-06-10T14:56:46.963-05:00The Answer in the DetailsWhat would you do if you were God? Who would you let live? Who would you kill off? What type of society would you want to create? One without poverty? No more disease? No more starvation? Would your world be a utopia, free from all these nasty day-to-day distractions like work, laundry, bills, and iphone updates?<br /><br />Whatever you would do as God, I would be willing to bet that you would not do what the God of the bible did. He speaks the world into existence, as we say "all things, seen and unseen". He creates good out of nothing. He did not make it because it was good, it was good because he made it. From the beginning, God is the standard of good from the very beginning. <br /><br />But then, as we know, something happened. The contingently good creation turns on its ultimately good Creator. Mistaking their goodness as the standard instead of God's goodness as the standard. Man is not content anymore to be man. He wants to be God. <br /><br />So what do you do in this situation, if you are God? Do you ignore the rebellion? Really? Not if you care one ounce about justice. Do you punish the rebels, subjecting them to some sort of miserable God-inflicted terror with no hope of recovery? Not if you are the least bit merciful. Do you un-speak the world and all in it, chalking it up as a failed experiment? Not if you are in the least bit concerned with your reputation.<br /><br />In the interest of fulfilling the demands of justice, mercy, and reputation, the God of the bible becomes man. You may not have thought of this before, but Jesus not only takes on flesh, but he takes on all the seemingly meaningless details of day-to-day existence. <br /><br />So Jesus worked. He met poor people. He met diseased people. He met people who were starving. He met people who were attempting to turn the world into a utopia. He healed many of them. <br /><br />But that is not all he did. Jesus also entered into the everyday mundane details of life. His clothes got dirty. He took care of finances. He took care of his mom. He buried his dad. He lived with a house full of brothers. He ate. He drank. He was tired, worried, saddened, excited, and jovial.<br /><br />It is weird, is it not, that God lived all the normal, un-remarkable, mundane details that we live. I am pretty sure we would be disappointed if we ever found a record of the lost 30 years of Jesus in-between his birth and public ministry. At least we would be disappointed if we were looking for some dramatic, heroic, superman stuff. <br /><br />It is because Jesus lived these mundane details that they take on a real meaning to us. In Jesus' life, God lived not only the remarkable, memorable, big moments of life, but also the mundane and unremarkable. <br /><br />In Jesus, God did what we would never in a million years think to do. Jesus threw off all the ultimately important trappings of being God to put on each and every one of those contingent, seemingly meaningless details of the mundane human life. <br /><br />This is what it means for Jesus to live our life for us. His everyday life gives meaning to our everyday lives.<br /><br />Are you waiting on God to do something dramatic in your life? Maybe he will. I think you should consider the fact that he wants to do something dramatic in and through the mundane details of your everyday life. <br /><br />I know this is not what you would do if you were God but since when does he play by your rules?Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-65208211822816718862010-06-04T08:32:00.005-05:002010-06-04T09:17:16.667-05:00What Are You Doing Here?I am not sure if it is like this in other professions, but I know for a fact that other waiters get the same question from guests on a regular basis. Some people want to know if you are going to school, or if you are in a witness protection program, or if our doctors have told us to wait tables for our health. It seems like an odd question for a total stranger to ask, does it not?<br /><br />Now, these people mean well for certain. There are quite a few of my friends who ask such questions themselves, so I rarely question the motivation behind such a query. Some people, for some strange reason, care about complete strangers to the point that even the guy waiting on their table is worth finding out some detail about his life, his story. <br /><br />I have always feared this question coming about for two key reasons. First of all, I hate to sound like Ned Flanders when I am waiting on somebody's table who has a tasty beverage in their hand. The last person I want to come across when I am having a good beer or Jack and Coke is the self-righteous guy raining on my parade. Hey, if God had not intended us to enjoy things, we would have no taste buds. There is nothing at all wrong with enjoying the good things in this life with those we care about (I believe the topic of moderation has been abundantly discussed in this here blog!).<br /><br />So coming off as holier-than-thou is always something I am wary of at work. I think this is a healthy fear, and I spend a lot of energy dispelling myths of self-justification (which is the greatest enemy to the grace of Christ that I know) when I am at work. The second reason a personal question like "What are you doing <span style="font-style:italic;">here<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>" makes me cringe is a more basic, substantive reason.<br /><br />At the end of the day it scares me to death to invite people into my weaknesses. I really do not know what the last 8 years in school was all about. I have no idea what the ministry of Casey Hobbs will be, when it is all said and done. <br /><br />Goals? Dreams? Visions? 20-year plan? 10-year plan? 5? 1? Nope. Except one thing, I do not have any of this. There is one thing I am settled on. I want to know and be known by God in Jesus Christ. <br /><br />In the midst of so much self-definition on this blog (which I thank you, dear reader, for putting up with over the years), it turns out the only definition I will ever have is to be found in a person, that of Jesus. I want to know him as Friend and Lord; King and Brother; Priest and Confidant. <br /><br />The operative word then becomes "trust". Trust in who God has shown himself to be in Jesus Christ. Trust in his promise to never leave me or let me go. Trust in his coming back to judge the living and the dead. Trust in his position as mediator between God and Man. <br /><br />Maybe it is a good thing not to know. Martin Luther wrote:<br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> Bewilderment is the true comprehension. Not to know where you are going is the true knowledge. My comprehension <br /> transcends yours. Thus Abraham went forth from his father not knowing wither he went. He trusted himself to my <br /> knowledge, and cared not for his own, and thus he took the right road and came to his journey's end. Behold, that is the <br /> way of the cross.</span><br /><br />Ya, maybe not knowing is better than we ever imagined.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-18736635436815184982010-05-12T11:04:00.001-05:002010-05-12T11:29:33.495-05:00Ten Percent PerspectiveThere I was last night, working on the back end of an 11½ hour day, and I got sat with my least favorite amalgamation of guests. You guessed right, it was a table with four women. <br /><br />If you did not guess right, the answer may have surprised you. Also, if you did not guess right, the odds are you have never waited tables. Women in a restaurant will (seemingly without exception) run you ragged with their constant critiques of the menu, drinks, atmosphere, and perhaps even your appearance. <br /><br />To illustrate my point, I will include a conversation I had with another table full of women earlier in the day.<br /><br />Me: Good afternoon, Ms. Smith<br /><br />Ms. Smith: How did you know my name?<br /> <br />Me (bypassing the obvious reason that included the fact that she just told the hostess her name in favor of my over-used pun): Well ma’am, I have ESPN.<br /><br />Ms. Smith (accompanied with a look of absolute distain): Well, ESPN is a sports channel so I think you are referring to ESP.<br /><br />Me: Thank you so much, Ma’am. I appreciate your help.<br /><br />As I said, it is a unique pleasure to wait on a table full of women but as the old saying goes, “somebody’s got to do it”. Last night it fell to me. <br /><br />As I took their orders, I thought this table may have a bit of potential for breaking the mold. I thought this because I am an idiot and momentarily forgot the wise words of Ulysses Everett McGill: “Never trust a woman, Delmar. You remember that one simple precept and your time with me will not have been ill-spent.” <br /><br /> I was in such an accommodating frame of mind that I allowed the hostess of this party to order asparagus au gratin, which indeed, is not on the menu. I also ordered her a humble salad for her entrée with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. <br /><br />Well, when the meal came, I noticed that something was definitely wrong. Do you remember the au gratin on the asparagus I had just mentioned? Well my kitchen did not. Do you remember the salad I ordered for her? Once again, the kitchen did not remember my order. <br /><br />I was angry. How could my co-workers ignore my specific requests? It seemed they were rising against me because of my slightly odd order. This aggression against my order could not stand. I went back to the kitchen and stated my case plainly and passionately. I figured I had put up with this nonsense for far too long. It was my time to assert my rights. <br /><br />Well, I got what I wanted. After a shouting match with my salad man and an invitation to step outside from my head cook, I had my lady’s order in hand, I had come through and done my job and I could rest assured that, even though I had to ruffle some feathers, I was in a fine position for a generous tip. <br /><br />Then something happened. The ladies had finished their meal and they sat. And they sat. And they sat. In fact, they sat at their table for nearly two hours after their dinner was complete, chewing up my time as my day neared the twelve-hour mark. <br /><br />To be clear, lingering is fine, even past the point when everybody else has left. As long as the restaurant is still open for business there is no reason to feel rushed out of the place. I do think there is a caveat to this general rule. You must tip 18-20% if you plan to chew up time past 10 at night. <br /><br />As you may have guessed, my ladies were not aware of my suggested caveat. When they finally left, I was staring down at a ten percent tip. <br /><br />For once, I was glad to get a crummy tip. It gave me a minute to reflect on what I had put others through to get paid. I had shouted at my friends to get their food correctly delivered. Why? So what if it takes an extra minute to fix an order. I am the only one that would look bad in that situation. The lady would have lived. She actually would have received her food at the same time whether I shouted at or spoke to my co-workers. <br /><br />I was glad because I had a chance to apologize to my friends. There was no reason to shout. There was no reason to be angry. Did Jesus not say his Father was the one who feeds the sparrows and clothes the flowers? And there I was, worrying, and looking out for myself. <br /><br />Well, I am glad Jesus did not do that. He considered equality with God not a thing to be hoarded but made himself nothing. He made himself a man. He entered history. He entered need. He entered pain. And he was obedient even to dying on a cross for the very ones who were against him. <br /><br />Maybe I should stop worrying. Because of Jesus’ humility, my Father will take care of me.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-85980919498283923482010-04-11T11:28:00.004-05:002010-04-11T12:03:35.570-05:00Jesus, on How to Win Friends and Influence PeopleWhat was the last pubic sermon Jesus preached? The answer to this question lies in Matthew 23. Over the last couple of days I have been thinking through the so-called "Seven Woes" that Jesus felt appropriate to end his public teaching ministry on. Jesus, apparently was not as concerned as we are with <a href="http://jeremyberg.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/shirt_televangelist_full.jpg">pleasing the crowds</a>.<br /><br />I have to be honest, I think I would like to end on an up-note. Maybe I could preach from Philippians 3- "All things I once counted as gain, I now count them as loss...that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his suffering that by any means I may attain the resurrection from the dead."<br /><br />Or maybe I'd like to end like Paul's last letter to his friend Timothy, "I have fought the good fight, I have I have kept the faith, henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness..." <br /><br />Or perhaps I would end with an apocalyptic look at the future where we will "see his face...and there will be no need for sun or moon or lights for the light of the city of God will be the Lamb..."<br /><br />I do not think I really want to end like Jesus. I would encourage myself. He warned others. <br /><br />Thinking back, maybe I have heard Matthew 23 preached before but I do know that I do not remember hearing it. There are just so many other fantastic passages. <br /><br />The more I have thought about it, though, the more I think the reason nobody preaches Matthew 23 (or at least memorable sermons on Matthew 23) is because it is way too easy to demonize the Pharisees. Yes, Jesus had very harsh words for the Pharisees but they were the ones wearing the black hats with the goatees. They were the red devil on the shoulder and we are the white angel on the shoulder of justice, right? We are on the right side, are we not?<br /><br />Well, I cannot speak for you, but I am dangerously close (less than a month to be exact) to being an official "approved" theologian. Do you know what a theologian would be called in Jesus' time? A scribe. A teacher of the law. Perhaps even a Pharisee. Maybe Jesus' words in Matthew 23 are pointed in my direction. Maybe they are pointed in your direction. <br /><br />Consider these reworded woes I have been working with:<br /><br />1. Woe to you for allowing only the socially acceptable into your gatherings. <br />2. Woe to you for teaching people to rely on you and not Jesus.<br />3. Woe to you for being a different man or woman in different contexts.<br />4. Woe to you who know how to parse but don't show mercy, justice, or faithfulness to your fellow man.<br />5. Woe to you who confess you are a sinner but do not really believe it.<br />6. Woe to you who preach grace but live under the law.<br />7. Woe to you who speak against the Pharisees while opposing Jesus' rule the same as they did.<br /><br />The good news for my fellow Pharisees is that this is not the end. Jesus finishes the sermon with prayer for us. He actually weeps over us and pleads for us to turn back to him.<br /><br />O Church, O Church, how he longs to gather you up into his arms l<a href="http://www.earthfriendlyfoodchain.com/hen.JPG">ike a mother hen brings her chicks underneath her wings. </a>The love of Christ is all we have. The excellent news is that his love is more than we will ever need.<br /><br />He still prays for me. He still prays for you.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-62933607190252264702010-03-16T15:35:00.003-05:002010-03-16T16:12:18.457-05:00Bless Those Who Curse You.Bless and do not curse. That's what Paul wrote. Incidentally, this is the single truth about Christianity and a life following Jesus that I find to be the most offensive and difficult. Is it not good enough just to hold my peace and not curse people who are rude to me? No?! I have to pray for them too? For their good, not their destruction? Dang it. <br /><br />As usual, I am coming armed with a story so rest assured. <br /><br />It has to be almost three years since I waited on one of the most wealthy and notoriously rude patron in the Magic City (That is, Birmingham, for those of you who don't live here). When I say that it was a bad experience to wait on this guy, I mean that he and his four guests finally got up and left their table before they had paid their bill. It would have seemed like he was in a hurry had he not stopped to inform my manager of the worst service he had ever received in his life (or, probably anyone in recorded history). <br /><br />I made a vow then and there, nearly three years ago that I would never wait on this man as long as I could keep my job in spite of sluffing-off his table. I have been encouraged by the fact that, except for rare occasions, he has not graced us with his presence. In the meantime, I have also had a laugh with my coworkers, several of whom had the exact same experience with this man in their first encounter. <br /><br />And there was his name in the reservation list for Friday night. Like a dark spot on an otherwise clear day, I could see that he was scheduled to sit in <span style="font-style:italic;">my</span> section. <br /><br />I prepared myself. Seldom are my prayers more heartfelt than when I am asking for patience at the restaurant (here I am not making a joke!). And so he and his party made their way to my table completely against my will. <br /><br />As I took drink orders, his guest (a man I have also waited on several times before) asked me the dreaded "Where do you go to school" question. I was only a question or two away from telling him I was studying to be a pastor. And it was not long before I reluctantly volunteered the information. <br /><br />I do not know if it was because they thought I was somehow holy enough to wait on them, or if it was fear of the office of pastor, or just the alcohol, but they were actually stunningly pleasant to me. <br /><br />And believe it or not, the women at the table asked me to give them a blessing. Out of all the <a href="http://spiritualwaiter.blogspot.com/2010/02/be-kind.html">strange requests</a> I have received over the years, this has to be the strangest. After a few mandatory initial changing of subjects, they asked me again. <br /><br />I could not believe it. I was giving the classic "Aaronic blessing" from Numbers 6:24-26: <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Lord bless you and keep you; <br />The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;<br />The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace<br /></span><br /><br />Like I said, every bone in my body protested against them even sitting in my section. Yet here I was literally blessing somebody who had gone out of their way to curse me. <br /><br />This is a little way that shows what God did for us. Jesus was cursed not only literally by people shouting at him but also by the fact that to be hung on a "tree" is pretty much the epitome of being cursed (Deuteronomy 21:22-23). While he hung on the tree, though, he also blessed. <br /><br />He prayed for us. In a well-known phrase we should reflect on as Easter approaches, he said: <span style="font-style:italic;">"Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."</span>Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2307841386060240875.post-73983151124149548142010-03-09T17:21:00.003-06:002010-03-09T17:45:08.351-06:00The Man in the Sweater-VestI almost just lost it. I am sitting in a coffee shop even as I write this email and I am foolishly reading and writing without the benefit of my headphones. I say foolish because these are the times I overhear my fellow-man saying all manner of stupid things that we are prone to say. <br /><br />The conversation of the patrons who are still as we speak talking loudly to one another and competing for the award of most important caught my ear when they mentioned the name of my restaurant. I will recount the details as best as I can remember them:<br /><br />Dude in a floral shirt and sweater-vest: "Yeah, I went to the steak house the other day and it was ridiculous. I ordered a medium steak and it came out all wrong. I called the waiter over and I asked him what color a medium steak should be. He said 'pink'. I said 'exactly, except the steak was red!!!"<br /><br />Dude's friend: "Yeah, that's crazy, I am sorry for the injustice that has been done to you and your family."<br /><br />Dude in a floral shirt wearing a sweater-vest: "I know, right? I don't know why I go there anymore."<br /><br />It was at this point in the overheard conversation that I started to veer over my computer screen with my disapproving waiter look that I have developed over the years. Now, of course, I was impressed by the fact that he chose one of the <a href="http://spiritualwaiter.blogspot.com/2009/10/there-are-only-five-options-for.html">five approved temperatures for a steak</a>. I was, however, unimpressed with the attitude I heard coming from the man in the sweater-vest.<br /><br />I could picture this man talking like this to one of my friends. Instead of directly asking for the steak to be cooked to the desired temperature (which is <span style="font-style:italic;">always</span> an acceptable course of action), he went the route of the self-important. <br /><br />You know what route I am talking about, right? It is the way we take every day when things do not go according to our plans. The needs of others and their lack of perfection irritates us to the point that we assume they are beneath us and therefore unworthy of being treated as we would like to be treated. <br /><br />The more I think about the guy in a sweater-vest bad-mouthing the place that has employed me for nearly the last four years, the more I can identify myself in him (although not in his sweater-vest). I would much rather avoid confrontation than to operate under the assumption that my roommate is also made in the image of God. If we are both in the image of God, how can I choose to see his needs as an inconvenience to me? How can I treat him any less than the way Christ would treat me when I confess that he laid down his life for me?<br /><br />If Jesus went willingly to the cross (as I believe), and let his enemies kill him (as I believe) so that he could save these same enemies from death (as I also believe), how can I disregard the needs of those around me? <br /><br />Jesus save me from disrespecting the ones you love.Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09525960772183629598noreply@blogger.com1