heaven

Learning How to Dance

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment
Do the Dance-- For Him

“And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod.”

2 Samuel 6:13-15

“The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to express the same delight in God which made David dance.”

     C.S. Lewis

It seems I’m the world’s worst and the clumsiest of all.  And since my brain surgery, it has gotten even worse. I fall several times every month.  I need to use a cane now.  (And if you look up “klutz” in the dictionary you’ll see my picture, lol.) 😃

When I start to dance, you had better head for higher ground! 

Even so, I do love the idea of dancing, but I’m like Bozo, the circus clown, only wearing roller skates!  I lurch from side-to-side and I’m always on the verge of falling on someone’s lap, which is a real hoot!

But there is just one dance that I am waiting for.

It’s the dance I’ll have with my Savior.  There will be a day, in a place and time where He will call me home and He himself will teach me how to dance.  I know it’ll be incredible, and it’s a day that I anticipate, and honestly, I hope it comes soon. (He’s finally going to heal me!)

But to really dance you must first liberate your heart. 

You must cancel out all self-consciousness.  If you are self-aware, you will never enter into the joy and wonder of the true dance.  You will be a perpetual wallflower, living only on the edges.  And, you will be very sad.

It seems you must dance in your heart before you can ever dance with your feet.

I desperately would like to dance. And when I see Him clearly on that day, I’ll have no cane to slow me down. I will be as graceful, and to be perfectly honest, I won’t be watching you, (I’m sorry). I will see only Jesus. And I believe that my heart will beat for Him exclusively.

Jesus shed His blood for me.

I belong to Him. He forgave all my sin and has given me eternal life. Knowing this fills me with such joy that my feet won’t stand still. He redeems me, and is this not a cause for a dance, or two, or maybe three? Maybe eternity will be filled with more joy than we ever dreamed possible?

Some of you have been damaged–mashed up in the grinding gears of life’s hard issues. It’s hard to dance. I understand.

But I also know that your life can be astonishingly full of grace– you have endured so much, and yet Jesus intends to occupy your thoughts and vision with real hope. As His disciple, you’ll discover your special dance. And when you finally see Him, your heart will finally be free to spin and twirl.

He after all is the Lord of the dance.

“Young women and young men, together with the elderly, will celebrate and dance because I will comfort them and turn their sorrow into happiness.”

Jeremiah 31:13
 
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How to Die Well

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Psalm 23:4, ESV

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”

Psalm 116:15

“Death is like my car. It takes me where I want to go.” 

Pastor John Piper

Our generation simply doesn’t know how to die well.  There are many conflicting messages and attitudes which have steered us away from the reality of dying.  Much of it is the natural development of unbelief.  Our pop culture develops this and gives it momentum.  We are trying to convince ourselves that “death is impossible, my life will not end.”  But we’re escaping into a delusion. And it only intensifies as we age. 

We are running from what is real.

There is a Latin phrase,  Ars moriendi  (“The Art of Dying”) which the Church practiced in past generations.  In the past, Christians would be buried as close as possible to a Church building.  Many would be interred within the very walls of the Church.  The understanding was that the dead were part of the congregation.  That there was only a thin veil that stood between the living and the dead.  

The dead didn’t just vanish. They still live. We just don’t see them.

Our generation is confused.  We have forced death to wear a mask.  We insist on a significant camouflage to hide the reality of sickness and death.  No one really ever talks about it, and so no instructions are given on how to die well. So we don’t, and we die poorly–often in ICUs. We die sedated, separated and unable to process dying. We never help our families process it. 

For many, the fear of dying is intense and paralyzing.  

It’s time for the Church to step up and guide us to our next step.  Our pastors and elders have got to prepare us to die well.  It is a part of being a disciple.  It is discipleship, and dying is inclusive.  We need somebody to prepare us for the inevitable and the certainty that is approaching us.  I need someone that will help me face my own death.

You know what?  No one escapes.  

And the reality of that drives some of us mad, or addicted, or psychotic.  The idea of filling a casket up for forever is incomprehensible.  We cannot live with this sick idea of dying.  It disturbs us on the deepest level possible.  It is completely evil.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death.  This verse alone is worth billions of dollars in gold.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death. Psalm 23 has made me a very wealthy man.  His Word has become my rich treasure.

“Some day you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody of East Northfield, is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it! At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now; I shall have gone up higher, that is all, out of this old clay tenement into a house that is immortal- a body that death cannot touch, that sin cannot taint; a body fashioned like unto His glorious body.”

    D.L. Moody

Your Heavy Load

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“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavily burdened [by religious rituals that provide no peace], and I will give you rest [refreshing your souls with salvation]. 29 Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me [following Me as My disciple], for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest (renewal, blessed quiet) for your souls.”

Matthew 11:28-29, Amplified Bible

He is inviting us.

Jesus requests our presence in one simple statement, “come to Me.” This phrase must be our starting point. It’s how you begin daily. If you’re His disciple, it’s imperative that you obey. But this concept is nuanced, it has profound meanings.

“All who are weary.” Each of us carries a heavy load. Sin has weight, whether we believe it or not. When I start to see this, I really begin my discipleship. Apart from Jesus’ invitation I will try to carry this heaviness on my own. This is called “religion,” and it’s a bad thing.

“My guilt overwhelms me—
    it is a burden too heavy to bear.”

Psalm 38:4

“I will give you rest.” It’s His gift, given to each believer. It isn’t earned, you don’t deserve it. His heart is for you to “rest.” The original Greek word often means “to refresh, or to cease your work.” Every true disciple knows this, and understands that Jesus rather laying a terrible burden on us, takes it off.

We must understand our calling.

Another burden (His own burden), is now given to us. It’s Jesus’own weight shared with believers. But it’s a restful burden that gives joy and peace. There are no longer sweaty religious rules, but authentic rest. Real discipleship is now based on love, not duty.

To follow Him in obedience is the happy delight of every disciple. When you are in love with Him the rigors of obedience have little weight.

“It never cost a disciple anything to follow Jesus; to talk about cost when you are in love with anyone is an insult.”

 Oswald Chambers

“For I am gentle and humble in heart,” is His nature. He always acts this way, it is who Jesus is. This is how He behaves to each of us. It becomes the very essence of how He relates to human beings, always gentle and completely humble. Sometimes we add things that obscure this, and we see Jesus in our own particular image. (Maybe that’s a way of defining idolatry?)

And finally--“and you will find rest for your souls.” Again, the Greek here is quite instructive: rest, “cessation of any motion, or labor.” My walk, following Him, isn’t working harder, but being in a joyful rest. God’s saints aren’t called to sweat, but walk in the sureness of the presence of Jesus inside them.

Life can be awfully hard. Trials come and we get overwhelmed.

The joyful rest is only a slice of what heaven will be like. If joy and peace are a wonder now, just you wait, our future holds promises of a continual awareness of Him in our new bodies. This fallen world will be completely remade. Sin, sadness and Satan will be no more.

“And me? I plan on looking you full in the face. When I get up, I’ll see your full stature and live heaven on earth.”

Psalm 17:15, MSG

It Gets Even Better

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I just saw a t-shirt. “It gets better,” and inside me something connected, it resonated. If there is something like spiritual mirth and laughter, I could barely contain myself. I wanted to shout and dance, but being an old man I knew I had to take extra Advil if I did. (Besides I was in Safeway.)

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

Romans 8:18

 The last 20 years are something I’d rather forget and erase. It seems I’ve been hit with just about everything awful you can imagine. After each incident I find myself thinking, “finally, it’s done,” but no, it’s not really done, there’s more coming. I’m smiling as I write these words. “But no, it’s not.” Ha!

Being slammed over and over has created within me a special longing for my real home. When I ponder the eternity of heaven the knots of this life begin to unravel, and I see life as it really is. You see present day life is quite temporary, and these many issues will be forgotten.

The Apostle is remarkably clear about this.

“Neither count my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy,” is Paul’s take on his life’s issues. To finally complete all of the moments–and do it with joy, is his goal. Crossing the tape triumphantly is the hope of the staggering believer. And it is mine.

My pain is just for a simple singular moment, but eternity is time on steroids.

It is forever and ever and ever and ever.

On my end, the exchange I make is hardly perfect. I turn in my “sawdust” and get gold in return, and who can turn this trade down? My ugliness becomes eternal beauty and who can resist such a deal? These terrible things that hurt me so badly carry an everlasting weight of glory.

Brother, please believe this. Yes, I know, it hurts.

The Greek word “worthy” in verse 18 can be translated “having weight” which suggests a heaviness or burden that must be carried. But even so, it’s temporary. It enters but passes, even though at the moment it seems forever. You carry it for a moment–but that is all. and it’s done.

I look, and gaze into eternity, and laugh in joy.

The Thief on the Cross Speaks

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Luke 23:39-43

“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 

42 “And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

The pain was incredible, but I know that deep down I deserved to die. But not like this. Never like this. I was almost out of my mind with fear. What they were doing to me was terrifying.

You must understand that I was a common thief. I had stolen a loaf of bread when I was eight years old and that’s how it all got started for me. It more or else got bigger and easier. I knew how to steal and I was quite good at it. I was Jacob, the master thief!

When I was finally caught, they sentenced me to die. I supposed it was inevitable. I fault no one but myself as I knew what I was getting into. As I dragged my beam up to Golgotha, it was really strange but I suddenly remembered a verse from the scripture and it really did unsettle me.

“Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

(Gal. 3:13, ESV)

It’s a terrible thing to die this way. There were three of us, nailed to the wood and lifted up between heaven and earth. Jesus was nailed to the middle cross, not that it really mattered; all three of us were going to die today.

Many hope for an easy death, maybe in their sleep–but that’s not going to happen to us.

The third man could only mock, he was afraid, and I suppose he just echoed those Pharisees who didn’t really understand. But I knew better. I knew who this other man was, I had heard all the stories. Deep down I knew that this man on the center cross was the Messiah.

A crowd had gathered to watch us die. The Romans in their wonderful ingenuity had made a sign that they nailed above Jesus’ head, and it declared to everyone that Jesus was “the king of the Jews.” Even as he was dying, they found a way to malign him and irritate the crowd.

The other man being crucified continued to mock Jesus, and it infuriated me.

Why I defended him I don’t know for sure.

But I understood. Jesus was murdered out of the envy and jealousy of the Pharisees. He didn’t deserve to die like this, but He was hated, and who can confront these religious men without becoming a victim. Jesus had repeatedly crossed the line, so now they were now putting him to death. It seemed evil was really winning today.

I saw the soldiers throwing dice for Jesus’ clothes. He was now being mocked by them as well, even as He was dying on a brutal cross.

But all of a sudden it all made perfect sense.

He really was the Messiah, and these bastards were killing him. Crucifixion was starting to work on me now. I began to choke on my words, and it was getting hard to breathe.

“Jesus… please remember me. When your kingdom comes, please let me be a part of it.”

And as beaten as He was, He managed to turn and look directly at me. They had whipped and brutalized Him, and yet He was still aware. His words were whispered now, but I understood. “I promise that today you will be with me in paradise.”

I was starting to spasm again.

But the horror of death had left me. Some time had passed, and I could hear his breathing stop. But for the first time, I had peace. They used a spear on Jesus, but he was already dead.

The soldiers now came to the two of us, and they were carrying an ax to break our legs. It all had to do with the coming festival, and the Pharisees wanted us dead. When they swung that ax I knew a pain that I could never describe. My own death came quickly after that.

I was suddenly standing in paradise, whole and complete, and loved.

Someone was standing before me. He was shining, and I knew he was powerful; stronger, and He was more glorious than anyone I had ever met. It was crazy but somehow I knew that it was the Lord Jesus. He had come to meet me. It’s funny, but I realized that somehow I really did belong. Me–a dirty rotten thief.

Jesus had promised me, pronouncing me righteous, me of all people. I suddenly had a joy that I could never explain. I really was a part of the Kingdom that was beyond anything I had ever known. I believed him and asked if somehow I could be part of his eternal rule.

I simply asked and He gave me everything.

“I am going to heaven just like the thief on the cross who said in that final last moment: “Lord remember me.”

Billy Graham

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Cover Art: “Christ on the Cross between Two Thieves,” by Peter Paul Rubens