one foot on the Truth, the other on a banana peel

 i've never been a roller coaster person, despite my desire to be.

some time in my early teens, i went with some friends to a roller coaster park, and one girl i liked hanging out with was willing to go with me on the smallest, least dramatic roller coaster available to "ease into" the fun. there are only a few things i remember about it:

1. it was called "the mousetrap."

2. it was unreassuringly creaky and clanky, and (in my opinion) unnecessarily jerky and whiplash-y.

3. as i was envisioning a future of paralysis from neck injury, my friend was sitting next to me as comfortably as if she were on a sofa… reciting a few Psalms that she had memorized for just such an occasion. it was stunning, amusing, shocking… annoying… amazing, really.

i'm finishing a 5-part series about martin luther on a newfound history podcast, and one of the more interesting aspects is that the hosts are atheists. ikr?!? overall, they give a better description of the reformation than I feared, although they've kept strictly to only one of the 5 "solas:" sola scriptura ("only scripture").  in total, they are: sola fida, sola gratia, solus Christus, sola scriptura, soli Deo gloria. in meaning, they state that salvation is through faith alone, by grace alone, in Christ alone, as in the Scripture alone, for God's glory alone.

bunny trail: back when such a thing was possible, my mom majored in latin. she knows all the reasons for sola vs. soli vs solus, and had she lived in martin luther's time, i bet his Bible translation would have been finished even earlier and perfectly proofread. i have zero talent for language, except american english. i don't even do english-english, because sorry-not-sorry we won that war, king george.

the one "sola" they've stuck with makes sense, because it's really the only "tangible" concept there that you could expect an atheist to explain. in addition, the Scriptures contain the others for the most part, so i can give them partial credit without difficulty.

i believe they are mistaken on some aspects of the story, like some (most of) of his motives, and the reason for his resolve is never explored. which is bonkers, when you go a mile in luther's crocs and think through the implications of what this lonely until-then obscure guy did and said. leaving out the "why" is a major logical "whoopsie."

then they take that logical slippery slope like an unhitched roller coaster car. 

down a greased track. 

in a lightning storm.

somehow- couldn't tell ya how- but somehow, they wind up at the conclusion that martin luther- the guy who set off the protestant reformation and basically changed the trajectory of a major branch of Christianity- that martin luther!!- is just like one of those liberal "pro-palestine" protesters. yup. they said that.

bunny trail: i hate political bunny trails, but i really thought they'd hold out longer. key difference between them and martin luther? luther actually accomplished something- but that's just my limited analysis.

the podcasters, being the religious-roller-coaster daredevils they are, [cut the brake line and whip around a hairpin turn and] declare martin luther is a radical who cast off the oppressive regulations of the religious authorities so he could "live his truth." they [fly down that deconstruction track as they disengage all safety mechanisms and] hypothesize that atheism is the natural conclusion to the protestant reformation, because if luther could trash everything the catholic church produced except the Bible, why not chuck that, too? luther was "living his truth," and so should we! 

[**gruuuchkkkniunckkngkkkngkngkngk**  that's the sound of the roller coaster car veering around a corner and shooting off the track's end, grinding to a halt in a pile of twisted, sparking metal. the podcasters go airborne, floating through the atmosphere on their own fanciful theories. they haven't yet landed.]

luther was not "living his truth." he had read the Bible and discovered The Truth. "I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life," Jesus said (john 14:6). martin poured over the Bible from beginning to end, laboring meticulously to wring out the meaning of words like "grace" and "propitiation" and "faith." he knew somewhere in that mountain of church writings, doctrines, and practices lay the answers he so desperately needed. after digging through the top layers of grass and dirt, sand and loose gravel, he hit the bedrock. finally, a place he could stand, a place that could support the tremendous weight of the gospel of Jesus Christ. this gospel is the pearl of great price. the buried treasure the rich man sells his entire estate for in order to buy the otherwise useless field. for him, and for luther, this was worth e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.  his job, his reputation, his friends, his family, his time, his strength, his every heartbeat.

any faith you build on dirt or sand won't stand up to more than 2 puffs and a huff from the big bad wolf.

but on a layer of bedrock? you couldn't have a harder, more solid foundation under you. "on this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (matt 16:18, emphasis added). "this rock" is understood within protestantism to refer to the gospel, peter's confession that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

that's what luther realized. "i cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. here i stand- i can do no other. so help me, God."

this, after encountering the Truth about God's holy wrath intersected by His redeeming grace.

this, in response to his religious and political authorities, who had consolidated power and turned faith into a spiritual one-a-day tablet ["available for a price. discounts applied at register. one indulgence per customer per confession. may not be combined with any other relic sale or promotion"].

bunny trail: so. many. questions. about those indulgences. what was the return policy? what if you bought one for someone who'd already gotten one the previous year from a different relative? what did you do with it? how long did they take to work? what if it got lost or destroyed?

this, knowing his life was at stake.

this, knowing he'd be accused of disrespect, heresy, offensiveness, stupidity, recklessness, and who knows what else.

there are some things in which, in all practicality, it is impossible to *not* take a stand on. to say you are *not taking a stand* is in itself taking a stand. standing on very shaky dirt and sand, but still.

the gospel of Jesus Christ is one of those things. the Bible containing that gospel is thus necessarily one of those things.  either it's true, or it's not. the very second you add or subtract to the Bible and its gospel, you are just strapping yourself into another roller coaster cart behind my atheist buddies. yeah, that one- with no lap bar and the bent axle. good luck.

another quote i found, also attributed to martin luther, is this: "the truth of the matter is rather as Christ says: 'he who is not with me is against Me.' He does not say, 'he who is not with Me is not against Me either, but merely neutral.' " i've visited multiple churches in the past while that are trying (unsuccessfully) to find that gray area of both sound doctrine and societal acceptance. they're trying the podcaster's idea of discarding the Bible, and they will wind up in the same place- nowhere. or rather, nowhere good.

i've been blessed not only by much more theologically sound podcasts, but mostly by multiple returns to the sacred refuge of that glorious gospel. no matter who or what tries to offer me a watered-down version, i can't take it. every manner of spiritual and political authority is making power-grabs all over the freaking place, now trying to offer up a politically correct, utterly inoffensive, store-brand religious one-a-day.

i don't have all the answers; neither did good ole doc luther. but we have far more than enough to give me confidence in the holy, inerrant, Word of God. i stand firmly in the gospel of Jesus Christ. i believe His words. i trust His promises. He is the propitiation for my sins, and i trust Him fully for my salvation and have the Holy Spirit as a "guarantee of the inheritance" in heaven until the day i get there. this gospel is "old-fashioned." it is "weird" and apparently, "on the wrong side of history." it is most definitely not "cool." but it's true, and I'm staking my entire eternity on that simple fact.

bunny trail: when did history start having "sides"? and where is the edge, or corner, or fold? who makes that decision? seriously!

this, because i've encountered the Truth in an undeniable, unavoidable way. i had the smallest possible glimpse of my sin from the Truth's perspective, and then nearly drowned in the flood of that same Truth's redeeming grace. that encounter is one the reality of which i simply cannot deny or avoid, and it demands that i respond accordingly.

this, knowing i'll be (or have already been) accused of disrespect, heresy, offensiveness, stupidity, all manner of phobias and "anti-"s, and i don't know what else.

what i do know is that however many loop-de-loops and twists this roller coaster of life blasts me through, there's an absolutely safe ending: standing before the heavenly throne, praising my Savior and God without restraint and without end. 

"there is one gospel on which i stand 

for all eternity.

it is my story, my Father's plan:

the Son has rescued me.

oh what a gospel, oh what a peace,

my highest joy and my deepest need!

now and forever He is my light;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

there is one gospel to which i cling.

all else i count as loss.

for there, where justice and mercy meet,

He saved me on the cross.

no more i boast in what i can bring,

no more i carry the weight of sin.

for He has brought me from death to life;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

there is one gospel where hope is found;

the empty tomb still speaks.

for death could not keep my Savior down,

He lives, and i am free!

now on my Savior i fix my eyes,

my life is His and His hope is mine.

for He has promised i, too, will rise;

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

and in this gospel the Church is one,

we do not walk alone.

we have His Spirit as we press on

to lead us safely home.

and when in glory still i will sing

of this old story that rescued me.

praise to my Savior, the King of Life,

i stand in the gospel of Jesus Christ."

 

"there is one gospel," words and music by jonny robinson and rich thompson

the old, the new, the borrowed and blue

one of the most fascinating things about life is the variety of relationships that spring from it. the idea of belonging originates with God’s relationship to man at creation before growing increasingly complex and beautiful. God institutes the marriage covenant between Adam and Eve who, together with their children, form the first family in Genesis. while the word “family” has persisted in language to refer to a group of people related by marriage and/or genetics, the pages of the Bible actually show a huge broadening of meaning.

 

united by genetics and marriage, Adam and Eve form the first family unit, as they are joined through God’s marriage covenant and then produce offspring. as we all have experienced, family ties are difficult to sever, no matter how far apart its members go. a “family,” with parents and children, are the basic building blocks of every society; weaken one and the other will inevitably start to crumble. even beyond dna, God has infused each family with its own unique relationships, dynamics, experiences. these give a human a sense of history, of belonging- even children brought up in an adoptive home have an innate desire to understand who their birth parents were, where they came from, how they fit into the history of both their families and the world. i think part of that is a God-given sense to find their way back to their very first Father, as He is the One who puts each of us into the earthly families that He does.

 

united by calling, we read of Levites eating celebratory meals together as they perform their duties in the Tabernacle and receive their designated portions- coworkers sharing their lives as they share the tasks - and the food!- God designated for them. a group of guys from all the different branches of a huge extended family tree, working in shifts to keep the Tabernacle in tip-top shape 24/7/365- the one single place around which the entire society literally revolved (no pressure, guys). in the New Testament, Jesus and a bizarre collection of men spend several years together doing everything a “normal” family does (even though at least one of them was married): eating the Passover together (a family/holiday event), walking, sleeping, talking, bickering, learning, growing, working, loving… all as a single, cohesive, group that becomes more close-knit than most any biological family.

 

united by faith, you see God continually inviting non-israelites into their community. several hundred years later, Paul the Apostle explains it clearly and repeatedly as many wild olive branches grafted into one cultivated olive tree. that one olive tree is the Church, and is a family that connects people from every language, nation, and people group. the family that began with a man, a woman, and their kids in Genesis becomes a family that encircles the globe in Revelation and spans every era. the 64 books in between trace the divine expansion of the word “family” and shows God’s plan unfolding to include every ethnicity. this Church family is way more incredible than we generally acknowledge, but we feel the ache inside when we go very long at all without coming together- like what we have all been feeling this year being separated from friends and family for Easter, and summer vacations, and Thanksgiving (and probs Christmas, too, now…). that's you missing your family!!

 

united by purpose, Paul the Apostle writes of his fatherly affection for Timothy who faithfully continues in their evangelistic mission. Timothy was raised in the faith by his grandmother, and we know nothing of his own parents. wherever they were, Paul takes him under his wing and basically adopts him as they travel and preach. having completed his training, Timothy is set as pastor of one of the churches he helped plant with Paul, and he is then commissioned to not "only" preach, but also to be an example of the same kind of adoptive church leader that his congregants can then model themselves after. every Christian is a member of the worldwide Church family, but within that body of believers, there are relationships that form that are so close, so foundational and formational, that this usage of "adoption" and "family" is the only language that is really appropriate, genetics be darned. i don't have much doubt at all that if Paul was anywhere near his young charge for Thanksgiving, they would be sitting side by side at Timothy's grandmother's house (because really? who else can make mashed potatoes and casseroles like a grandmother?).

 

 

To my OLD family:

 

thank you.

a friend asked me once what my favorite thing about my church was, and my immediate response was, “my old people!” my Church family is a blessing i would be lost without, and you as my “old people” represent the Church boldly. i cannot thank you all enough for the encouragement, support, prayers, wisdom and Jesus-love each of you has heaped upon me. i know it’s not politically correct to say “old,” but i have enjoyed having this church’s older generation to learn from as much as i have learning with the younger generation in the cubbies class. “gray hair is a crown of blessing,” and man, you make those crowns look good!!

you've helped me move, you've hosted me in your homes, you've done my yard work. you have fed me, you have visited me when sick, sent birthday cards, kept me sane during a hard year of studying. you reached out to me as a Union student, asking me to stay in Jackson starting sophomore year. you have openly shared your joys and griefs, your gains and losses, your struggles and victories, and how your enduring faith has brought you through it all. a few of you have even done me the honor of being my patients in the hospital ;)

you ran to the altar with open arms (and tissues and coffee) when i joined the church by baptism, you have supported me on mission trips without restraint, and you are generally a fabulous group of people that i wouldn’t trade for anything. 

 

 

To my NEW family:

eye wuvz yoo. my newest biological family- my “niephews,” you are the best things about family gatherings. i love snuggle parties on the couch, reading the same 5 books a hundred times, and seeing your artistically genius abstract crayon drawings on my fridge. i wish you could all stay small forever, but i also look forward to seeing who you grow up to be. 

to the newest family member by marriage… you already know i love you, or i wouldn’t be marrying you today. i have no idea what plan God has for our family, but there’s no one else i’d rather be with to find out.

to the soon-to-be newest family member by marriage… i’ll never think anyone is good enough for my sister, but i guess you’re pretty close. i promise to forgive you at some point for taking her all the freaking way to arizona. welcome to the clan!!

 

To my BORROWED family:

i guess this all goes to show you never know what you’ll find in a garbage dump.

what started as a “simple” mission trip turned into the beginning of a new phase of growth in my life and proof of God’s providential care, supplying for my needs at a crucial time before those needs even arose.

thank you for being a place to go when i needed safe haven, and a constant source of support and laughter. the blinged-out blanket forts, butter bread and extremely random youtube videos are just bonuses for the real treasure of having an “extra” family to be a part of. when i needed a “home” closer than 800 miles, you provided one. when i needed to know why my car was making those weird sounds, you were there. when i just needed time to mend, you opened your emotional first aid kit and got to work. when i didn’t know what i needed, you helped me get back on track. when life knocked me down, you hauled me to my feet. you made the concept of adoption a natural part of your lifestyle and i am the better for it.

 

To my BLUE family:

very few people know what we do, and even fewer people know how and why we do it. spending hours on our feet to take care of sick people large and small (and smaller) doesn’t spell “fun” for most anyone. we have accepted our unique role in society, and that we can be an odd crew- especially those of us on the night shift! i would contend that we are odd also in the way that we are such a “family”- we celebrate birthdays, weddings, births. we gather together for holidays (because we have to, but still) and weekends, and support each other through thick and thin. wedding showers, baby showers, retirement parties, holiday feasts, birthday potluck dinners, kids’ school fundraisers- all these things are like separate strings that form an uneven web where our individual lives and families intersect. not only celebrations, but we have also shared tears of loss and frustration and hurt at times- a biblical kind of love that forges relationships deeper than the word "coworker" conveys. i’m rather proud of my small collection of “work moms” who make sure to check up on me when i travel more than 0.25 miles from my house, and friends who are an endless source of knowledge and fun, as well as being able to serve our little, bitty patients alongside you. it’s an honor. i love you all!

 

 

what Norman Rockwell forgot (or, the Webb FamFest 2014)

every year, there is this special day in America where we celebrate good food, all the good things we have, the bad things we don't, and the long-held family traditions.

we call it Thanksgiving.

a perfect, massive turkey with all the dressings, served from the left by a petite brunette weighing no more than 125 pounds to a manly man, head of the household as he proudly surveys his brood of perfectly behaved children, all eager to share their loving reflections of this past year and hopes for the year coming.  their hair is perfectly arranged and the china is gleaming. 

HA!

sorry- that was the Norman Rockwell poster that was probably true for one family once.  it was not our family. ever. but tell you the truth, i'm mostly okay with that.  if a picture is worth a thousand words, he captured 1,000 excellent, lovely, true words of what it means to belong to an American family.  this nation is truly blessed and i love the idea of celebrating and setting time aside solely to remember these blessings and praise the source of them all. 

i also love all the other stuff that can't fit into a painting.  what makes each family unique, what makes the best stories.  that family NR painted ain't got nothing on ours!

here's what Norman Rockwell forgot:

the full story of Turkey Day starts several hundred miles earlier, where every good American joins all the bad Americans in the craziest dance ever, all the players surrounding themselves with literal tons of metal and fly in all directions, all over the nation, going many, many miles per hour.

now, i love people.  what i DON'T love is people in cars. they are 5,000 of the 5,010 reasons I adore driving overnight.  the crazies aren't there.  they steer with one hand and with the other, they are eating, or drinking (a variety of liquids), changing radio stations, taking medications, changing clothes, shopping, video-chatting, texting, singing, screaming cuss words at the GPS, cutting nails, or slapping children in the backseat. 

funny: the telepathic mind games we play so we can edge our way in front of that Handicapped-license-plated lady in the old Ford car so we can set our cruise control and just GO.

funnier: the horrible knowledge that it does not matter what speed you set your cruise control to.  Eventually, the Handicapped lady, and the jerk in the jacked-up pickup truck are going to realize that you are "first" and that this is not "fair" and they ABSOLUTELY MUST BE IN FRONT OF YOU.  one of them will get in front of you, and then set THEIR cruise control for 2 mph less than you and refuse to go in the slower lane.

funniest: knowing that it also does not matter what state you are in, or what the sign says, be it 70, 65, 60, or 70 again.  the traffic pace does not change one whit.  you find that Handicapped lady's back bumper and stick to it.  set your cruise control to hers, and don't fight it.  

laws mean nothing when a good family vacation is at stake.  speed limits, state borders, and let's not forget our favorite: that moment when you are soaring down the middle lane of a 5-lane highway that is splitting into 2 highways, and suddenly a big ole' minivan realizes that they are one lane to your left, but they NEED TO BE IN THE FAR, FAR, RIGHT-EST LANE RIGHT NOW.  they need to stay on Interstate 40, not Interstate 81, and they ignored all the miles of signs, warning lights, GPS and Mapquest directions, backseat drivers and all the other cars who spent their time productively by safely and calmly getting into the proper lane.  NOPE.  let's just play with people's lives in our new, fun version of the Russian Roulette.

eventually, hopefully, you will arrive at the predetermined relatives' home, feeling, looking, and smelling just like you think you would, after being trapped in a metal, mobile cubicle for countless hours. good thing relatives are never stressful.  if you're in my family, you don't need to wait until The Feast before diving right on in to the arguments- we had the Pre-Feast Dinner.  Picture half a dozen people.  some with Law degrees, some with art or English degrees, some with NO degrees, all with opinions, debating huge controversial issues.  nobody in our family has an "indoor" voice.  we have 2 settings- Loud, and Louder. we all have opinions, and the presence or lack of food in our mouths doesn't change the opinion or the need to immediately share it with everyone, who is doing the same thing.  we sound like animals- we're not, i promise.  

i think just about every family that sets time aside during the year to get together has SOME sort of family tradition.  some families have the tradition of having NO tradition, but for some reason it's those traditions that draw them together even if they seem to do the opposite. 

for example: we used to have no other tradition besides just getting together every Thanksgiving.  one year, my athletically inclined uncle said "hey- this is a fabulous time on a fabulous day with some fabulous weather-let's go on a fabulous walk together." so we did, and at least 2 of us had a truly fabulous experience.

the next year, he said "hey- this is a fabulous day with some fabulous weather, so let's continue our fabulous tradition of a Thanksgiving Walk."  yeah- they pulled out the Tradition word.  the siblings and i looked at each other, saying "what is this 'tradition' that you speak of?" but we all went anyway.

you see what just happened there? yeah- see, now it WAS A TRADITION.

and because breaking traditions in our family is like sacrilege, it is now decreed that every Thanksgiving, our family goes on our annual Walk. 

i just need to share this moment from our Walk this year, which was about as miserable as possible.  one sister that i drove 800 miles to see busted her knee, so she, sadly, couldn't come. poor thing.  the other sister had a baby to feed, and the grandparents weren't up to it, and neither was the aunt.  family politics were suddenly a huge deal, and i convinced my brother to come (either because he loves me, or is a complete sucker for my Sad Puppy Dog Face) so i'd have someone to talk to.  then strategy came into play and we changed the speed of our walking to position ourselves with the "right" relatives, as all those relatives were doing the exact same thing. don't deny it- EVERY family does this, in some form or fashion.

well, sometimes the Weather Pixies don't really care about your family traditions, which is why smart people check the weather forecast to see whether it is compatible with these traditions so dear to our hearts. 

we didn't.  nobody checked the forecast.  but daggum, we were going on that Walk!! 

which started with a steep uphill climb.

then it started raining. 

then my hands went numb.

then the family members caught on to our pace and tried to catch up. 

then we were all miserable and turned around early. Joel and I power-walked/jogged back as fast as we could, which wasn't too fast because i'd donated blood a day before and was bent over double- but still way faster than anyone else because this was the worst Thanksgiving Walk ever, and i was on the verge of a breakdown by the time we sloshed, soaking wet, back indoors after almost 4 miles of rain, cold, and avoiding each other in the sneakiest manner possible.

this of course, leads up to the actual holiday part.  we all borrow clothes, throw the wet ones in the dryer, and scatter all over the house into the groups of people that will cause the least amount of stress, to talk politics, watch movies, play blocks with the baby and toddler, take pictures, take naps, or help prepare The Feast. i am so good at dumping and smashing ingredients together.  i should get a medal.  Aunt Kathy gets The Bird ready to go and I lay claim to that left drumstick.  4 hours later the feast is spread.  4 minutes after that- carnage. i was somehow the second to last person to go through line, but i did get the drumstick.  because we got all the fighting out of our systems, between last night and the Walk, we get down to the serious business of eating.  that's what Thanksgiving is for, right?  well, we take this quite seriously, and happen to be excellent at eating. we are stuffed before the food is quite gone, but somehow manage to take care of those desserts, too.

a while ago, Jackson was blessed to host a couple of our Brazilian  translators as they were visiting the US for a while and decide to bop on up for a few days.  a favorite moment while discussing the cultural differences was their facial expressions as we tried to explain a good ole' American Thanksgiving weekend, which isn't over until

BLACK FRIDAY.

America at its finest, folks.  word of advice: DON'T STAND NEAR THOSE KITCHEN APPLIANCES, or you WILL get mowed down by that overzealous grandmother tearing through the store to get her greedy hands on the last crockpot on sale.  i mean, it's not like Thanksgiving is all about celebrating all the good things we have or anything… oh wait.  take that family picture before bed Thursday, because come Friday 3 am, we as a general public, devolve into stark-raving mad lunatics.  the idea that people have actually DIED by being trampled by the masses still astounds me.

but there are a few things that Rockwell managed to capture.  the aprons, bobby pins and ancient clothing fashion trends are gone, but the feelings he painted are timeless.

like, that family that is so easy to take for granted- they're there.  sometimes that's good, and sometimes you just have to laugh, knowing that one day you'll look back and be thankful that memory is so far past.  the Walk is one of those.  i love how it was during that exact timeframe, when my fingernails were legit blue and my shirt soaked, that 3 of my favorite extra-familial people called or texted to check in on me.  one real-time selfie answered all their questions.  but they were there for me, too, just like family of a different sort, and part of what we celebrate even if the celebrating appears to be lost in all the chaos. and i got a lot to celebrate.

i got sister time- long, late hours of it.  i got brother time- short and brief, but still there.  i will get, soon, my own personal copy of The Webb Family Picture, which is another tradition, and another moment to laugh about- later.  much, much later.  i got moments with some pretty great people that i haven't seen in ages, and even a few more pictures for proof that we were in the same place at the same time! i got 20+ hours of driving time, time spent singing loudly for nobody to hear, time spend to pray, time spent just to be quiet, still, breathe.  i got Pilot coffee.  i got to relive memories of some of my favorite people ever who now live all up and down I-40, as i passed their towns and cities.

we're all pretty good at complaining, but i gotta say we do know how to celebrate the good things, and maybe once i've recovered from the Walk in about a year, i'll once more join those crazies barreling down I-40 to do this all over again.

to remember- the good, the bad/weird/confusing/embarrassing.  to celebrate- freedom, family (all kinds of family, not just biological), food (stay away from my drumstick).  

i'll be the one hugging that old handicapped, speed-demon lady's bumper.