Category: Thursday Thought

In the market for a new home?

I saw some interesting listings in the Wall Street Journal.

Trump Park Avenue, a 32 story condo development by presidential candidate Donald Trump, is offering a penthouse unit for $35 million.  That's more than twice the price of a 4,200 square foot 27^th floor apartment that features oak floors, handcrafted Italian brass doorknobs, and views of Park Avenue.  

Perhaps you hanker for a quieter life and a warmer clime.  Then consider another $35 million dollar listing, this one from Christie's International, in Paradise Valley, Arizona.  

The five bedroom “main house” offers more than 30,000 feet of living space and includes a movie theater and indoor basketball court (complete with score board and sky box seats).  Did I mention the master bedroom features a hair salon, a kitchenette, an office—along with the usual sitting room and his and her closets?  The 12 acre property boasts a swimming pool with his-and-her pool houses and a guesthouse with its own infinity pool (I mean, who could live without one?).  

You say you really are a city girl…a city guy at heart?  Have I got a deal for you in Manhattan!  Take a (really big) bite of the Big Apple when you buy a penthouse under construction at 160 Leroy Street. You'll cough up between 75 and 80 million for a 12,200 square foot “shack.”

The unit will have three kitchens– a “social kitchen” to entertain, an adjacent “chef's kitchen”–the true grub hub, plus a third kitchen in a private rooftop terrace.  

And then….there’s Jesus who said, “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”

Nothing wrong with having a nice home. 

Nothing better, though, than living for our eternal home. 

Which home are you living for? 

Frankly, I felt ambushed.

I was minding my own business attending church in Arizona with my wife and our friends, Charlie and Kathy, when of all things, we were led in singing an old Sunday School chorus, “Jesus Loves Even Me.”

Words splashed on the screen, but few in the crowd needed them:

            I am so glad that our Father in Heav’n
            Tells of His love in the Book He has giv’n;
            Wonderful things in the Bible I see,
            This is the dearest, that Jesus loves me.”

The chorus goes on to testify:

            I am so glad that Jesus loves me, Jesus love me, Jesus loves me.

            I am so glad that Jesus loves me—Jesus loves even me.

A lump formed in my throat, amazed afresh at my own redemption: Jesus loves even me.   But how could I—how could we—ever lose this sense of astonishment?  Somehow, we do.

Like a fried egg gone cold, we get crusty around the edges.   Over time, we convince ourselves that there probably is something of worth about the air-brushed lives we lead, after all.  “Why of course Jesus loves me!” is our secret stance.  “After all, I'm a reasonably decent person.”

Gone is the image of spittle on the face of Christ, and my phlegm the source of that humiliation.  Gone the oozing bald patch on Christ's face, and mine the hand gripping His ripped out beard.  Gone the spikes that pin his flesh and mine the hand grasping the hammer. 

Worse, we engage in a spiritual cover-up, like a spiritual version of Photoshop.  We conjure up pixels of self-righteousness and presume ourselves presentable.  Yet Jesus sees it all, would forgive it all.  More than that, He wants to love us.  So He whispers His love again—sometimes in a simple kids' chorus.

          I am so glad that Jesus loves me.

          Jesus loves…even me. 

Demolition has gone high tech.  Gone are the days of the giant bowling ball swinging from a crane cable. Today's demolition teams are powered by hydraulic claws resembling a four-fingered fist that can clench, wrench and rip.  All of that controlled by a digital joystick. 

In downtown Chicago, I watched as the demolition operator yanked an impossibly thin piece of metal away from a building wall (like a robot with refined motor skills) before plowing into brick, steel and wood.  I've also gawked as these grippers pinched a massive chunk of cement, squeezing it into powder.  

As I stared from across the street, entire rooms were ripped open for the entire world to see.  Wall coverings, book shelves, window trim, ceiling tiles, furniture.  It was all there.  Along with mangled electrical and gas piping…doorways leading to nowhere. 

Like I say, it was interesting, but it felt almost voyeuristic: the soul of a building entirely exposed. The experience left me a bit sad and a lot sobered.

Someday our lives will similarly be opened…exposed.  Not for the purpose of destruction—but for judgment.   Romans 14:12 assures us, “So then, each of us shall give account of himself to God.”

The question, of course, is what will Christ discover in me….in you?  Will He find a soul constructed of noble thoughts, pure motives and a golden heart?  Or will He encounter the foundational rot of greed, a secret closet of immoral thoughts and the stench of selfish living?

1 Corinthians 3:12:  “Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one's work will become clear.” 

We may well look pretty good on the outside—like many a condemned building—but all that is inside will soon be revealed for what it is.

Sobering, isn't it?

The chair is hers.

But she no longer occupies it.

The cash register that was hers still takes money.

But death has taken Eloise.

 

For decades, Eloise worked in Food Service at Moody Bible Institute.   She was one of a kind.   When you showed up with your $4.50 sandwich, she would announce the price to you as “Four hundred and fifty dollars.”

When our son was very young, he helped himself to a few candies without paying.   Upon discovering his heist, we made him stand in line, apologize to Eloise and hand her the money owed. 

Eloise looked after me.  Looked after all of us.  An embarrassing number of times, I would leave glasses or notebooks or calendars behind…only to get a kind phone call from Eloise a bit later.

Eloise had a great heart for urban ministry, prisoners in specific.  She was part of a ministry that cooked a Thanksgiving dinner for every inmate in Cook County Jail.  She gave her money, her vacation time and her energy to this ministry—and invited the rest of us to do the same.

I remember showing up at the County Jail to help out, working side by side with Eloise and a few inmates…making macaroni, and then learning to knead dough for the homemade yeast rolls.  I was reprimanded by one of the sisters for working the dough too hard—though they still gave me an entire pan of those tasty hot rolls at day's end.

But Eloise's grandest legacy, perhaps, is her prayer life.  Few have prayed—or believed—with her conviction.   That’s why this past November, when I was particularly burdened about an international trip, I went straight to Eloise.

Her life was so much bigger than her work as a cashier with Food Service.  She who spent so many years ringing up breakfasts and lunches…will now dine at the wedding supper of the Lamb.

Suddenly, I'm hungry for heaven. 

My “Happy New Year” frame of mind was jolted to a depressing reality when I read a  column in The Week—a favorite news magazine.  An article in the “Poll Watch” section reveals the following:

69% of Americans are convinced that America is heading in the wrong direction.  A whopping 72% now believe our country is not as great as it once was (Bloomberg Politics).  59% believe the economy is doing poorly (CNN/ORC) with 47% saying their family is scraping by, making only enough to pay the bills and other obligations.  19% say they cannot afford some basic expenses (NBC News).  61% believe the American dream is broken and that only the wealthiest can now get ahead (The New York Times/CBS News) and 56% believe most children in the U.S. will grow up to be worse off than their parents (NBC News). 

A record 50% disapprove of the Supreme Court’s recent actions and 86% say they have an unfavorable opinion of Congress (Gallup).  Notably, 55% believe “ordinary Americans” could do a better job of dealing with the nation’s woes than our current elected officials (Pew Research).  And get this—50% of Pennsylvanians would rather be represented by the groundhog Punxsutawney Phil than by their current members of congress (Public Policy Polling). 

83% of voters fear there’ll be a large-scale terrorist attack in the U.S. in the near future.   (Washington Post/ABC News) and 60% think it’s likely that terrorists are living in their hometown (Fox News).  45% fear that the federal government could use a military exercise to covertly seize control of some states. 44% think machines with artificial intelligence could wipe out the human race (Monmouth University Poll). 

What a passel of pessimism!  Not exactly a great launch for the New Year.  But followers of Christ ought never to look for comfort from their culture.  Indeed, Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

 

Source: The Week, December 25, 2015

The view is a gift.  Spectacular at times, really.

Every morning upon arriving at my downtown office, I usually glance out an east-facing window toward the 100-story John Hancock Tower, the Chicago skyline and beyond.  For more than two decades, I have relished a city view of sunrises, sunsets, lightning and snowstorms.  Better than that, I have seen the lake. 

Amazingly, through two office moves, I have managed to hang on to a sliver of the nation's third largest body of water.  There is never a time when Lake Michigan is less than awe-inspiring.  I will miss it.

The rumble of machinery across the street and ten floors down assures me that my personal scenery is about to change.  Footings are now drilled and poured.  A central cement core that will not be denied rises steadily off the street.  Already, the red wire of a crane cable dangles over my lake view.

The signs are everywhere, as they are unstoppable.  The window is closing. 

I had a parallel epiphany recently.  A wise and trusted friend suggested the rumble of America's cultural machinery is about to change the moral scenery for Christians—in specific and drastic ways.

The signs are everywhere, as they appear to be unstoppable.  The window on our long-cherished views of freedom of religion and speech is closing.

What, then?  Shall we circle the wagons, hunker down and bemoan our loss?

No. 

The landscape is changing and we may not like the darkened view.  But as shadows lengthen, Paul says, “prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world” (Philippians 2:15). 

Here's praying that as America races further into a tunnel of moral and spiritual darkness, you and I will be found on the other side—still shining. 

“I just don't feel in the Christmas spirit.”

Have you ever said that?  I have.

But where did we ever get the idea that we are supposed to feel a specific sentiment?

Is there some Department of Christmas Inspiration that has issued guidelines for what sort of emotions one ought to feel every 25^th of December? 

Kidding aside, I “get” feelings.  I can be a downright emotional sort, especially for a guy.  Nor do I think it's wrong to expect that Christmas might induce a unique set of emotions. 

Where I think we run into trouble is when we demand this of our hearts.  In doing so, we are at once both gunman and hostage in our own emotional stick up.  

Expecting to feel a specific emotion is akin to explaining a joke's punch line in hopes of producing laughter.  It just doesn't work. Like the little girl who planted a seed in her garden—and then hovered over it waiting for it to sprout—we are bound to be disappointed.

I suspect that the elusive “Christmas spirit” is likely a byproduct, not an attainable goal.  It’s not a matter of singing enough carols, sending enough cards, attending enough Christmas concerts.

Maybe it's time to cut ourselves some emotional slack.  After all, the Bible never calls us to feel a certain way.  Yet we are called to live a certain way—the Jesus way.

Rather than wait for the Christmas feeling, let's do some Christmas living.

• Let's be like Mary who “kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
• Let's be like the shepherds who glorified God “for all the things they had heard and seen.”
• Let's be like the Infant King, who “took on the form of a servant.”

Who knows?  Maybe in living like the Christ of Christmas, those feelings of Christmas might just sneak up on you!

Merry Christmas!

It blows my mind.  On Facebook, we share not only where we are, who we are with, but–increasingly–what we are eating.  Especially during the holidays!  Facebook has become “foodbook!”

I've scratched my head trying to figure out why we're so big on sharing what's for dinner.  All I can point to is the perfect recipe of improved camera optics and a tangy combination of fidgety phone folks with a penchant for sharing too much information.  

Restaurants have wised up.  According to an article in the Associated Press, the restaurant chain, Chili’s, now spends $750,000 annually on an egg wash that gives burger buns a photogenic glaze.   They are also serving french fries in sleek stainless steel baskets and stacking ribs on plates for a more appetizing photo look.

 Nor is Chili’s alone.  Yum Brands CEO Greg Creed (think Taco Bell, KFC and Pizza Hut) has described diners' growing tendency to “art direct” food.  He adds that today's generation intends for their meals to be “sharable” on line.   

Bottom line: Millennials are not satisfied merely to munch lunch.  They first tweet, THEN eat.  

Presentation, as they say, is everything. It's the…umm…bread and butter of today's foodies.

Forgive me for making an abrupt turn here, but let me ask you.  As someone who appears to be a follower of Jesus, is your testimony mainly about appearance, or are you the real deal?  I'm thinking now of the tray of fake desserts at my favorite restaurant, fabulous imitations of the real thing.  They look astonishingly real but aren't. 

Do you really know Jesus….love Jesus…obey Jesus?  Or is your life mostly about the presentation?  Said another way, do you merely look “astonishingly real” or are you actually born again?  Take heed, lest at the Judgment, Jesus say to you, “Depart from me, I never knew you.”

Why don’t our churches sing more Christmas carols during the Christmas season?  I asked this question last week, inviting your response.  The question is born of the observation that during the Christmas season, many churches are unable (or unwilling) to disconnect entirely from their beloved worship choruses from Chris Tomlin or Hillsong heard the rest of the year. 

Here is a sample of your responses to the question, “Why don’t we sing more Christmas music in church?”

Peter writes,

I have wondered the same thing about carols.  Apparently Christmas carols aren’t trendy?

Ron claims:

Adults don't sing Christmas carols because they learned them when they were children and now that we are all "grown up" we consider them childish.  Bottom line:  it is a matter of pride.

David writes from Ghana,

            We have lost some of our values.

Russ points out,

           We won’t exhaust the Christmas music or “overdo” it in four weeks. We have 48 weeks to sing the rest            of the hymns and every new chorus that comes along.

 

My brother David, himself a musician and worship leader asserts two possible reasons for the decline of Christmas Carols:

1. A few people feel we've moved beyond hymns or carols and that the music written nowadays is sufficient.

2. Contemporary Christian Music started in the 60's so we've now had a full generation who may never have done a standard hymn (or Christmas carol) in their church. The only musical language they know is Contemporary Christian Music.

 

Colin offers two reasons for the decline of Christmas carols in church: 

1. Loss of Awe.  I believe we are simply not awed by the concept of the birth of God as a human in the form of the baby Jesus.   

2. Theft of Glory.  "The Glory of the Lord" is used throughout the narration and seeps into all the carols. We glorify the internet, Amazon, the almighty dollar, Black Friday, Cyber Monday….anything BUT the Glory of the Lord Most High.

Great insights.  Worship leaders out there…are you listening?

 

Four weeks.  Maybe five at the max.  It’s a rather small window of time in which to sing Christmas carols.  That’s ‘cause we don’t sing Joy to the World in April.  And you won’t hear your worship leader inviting you to sing Silent Night in the heat of August.  Why?  Christmas music is for the Christmas season.

So here’s my question—okay, call it a complaint: Why are so many of today’s churches so unwilling to sing exclusively Christmas music during the Advent season?  Sure, everybody mixes in some Christmas carols.  But most churches I’ve observed just can’t quite let go of Ten Thousand Reasons or the latest from Hillsong United.   Why?

We have 48 weeks to sing the regular stuff, so why can’t the Christmas season be exclusively Christmas music?  What is it that today’s worship music leaders fear—or maybe dislike—about Christmas music?  Is it a question of age?  Or do we feel the songs are too slow?

Hear me clearly—I enjoy today’s worship music.  There’s so much to love! But why are we so reluctant to set it aside—all of it—for just four weeks?

Is it a stylistic addiction?  A discomfort with tradition?  A distaste for introspective tunes?  I surely don’t know.  But I’d like to hear your thoughts.    In fact, I’m inviting you to help write one of my next blogs!  Why not share you answer to the question, “Why can’t we sing pure Christmas music” when you email me.  Here’s where to send your thoughts: Jon@jongauger.com. 

I’m definitely interested in your opinion—worship leader or not.  Tell me why you think we’re so afraid to sing plain ol’ Christmas music…at Christmas. 

I must just excerpt your thoughts in a future blog—so be bold.  Meanwhile, enjoy the Christmas music—while you can!