Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead

Last week I shared a review of Mez McConnell's heart-breaking and grace-pervading testimony, Is Anybody Out There? This week I wanted to share with you a bit more into his story by sending you to this article he wrote not quite two weeks ago when he found out that his childhood abuser was dead.

Mez writes:

"Some children of a recently deceased mother wrote this startling obituary for their local press:

Marianne Theresa John­son-Reddick was born Jan. 4, 1935 and died alone on Sept. 30, 2013. She is sur­vived by her six of eight children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way pos­sible. While she neglected and abused her small chil­dren, she refused to allow anyone else to care or show compassion towards them. When they became adults she stalked and tortured anyone they dared to love. Everyone she met, adult or child, was tortured by her cruelty and exposure to violence, criminal activity, vulgarity, and hatred of the gentle or kind human spirit.  

On behalf of her children whom she so abrasively ex­posed to her evil and vio­lent life, we celebrate her passing from this earth and hope she lives in the after­life reliving each gesture of violence, cruelty, and shame that she delivered on her children. Her surviv­ing children will now live the rest of their lives with the peace of knowing their nightmare finally has some form of closure.

I just heard several hours ago that my stepmother of almost 13 years is dead. Of what and how I do not know. She was young. I know that. So painful is it to even think of her name I refer to her as “she” throughout my autobiography [watch Mez’s testimony].

It’s 1:30 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to think or feel. The above is pretty much what I would like to express to the world. I would like to go to her funeral, stand, and let everyone know what this person was truly like and how much damage she did while alive. I want her to get her just deserts even though I know, thanks to Christ, I will never get my own.

I am a pastor. I should know better. I do know better.

I know, deep in my soul, that Jesus experienced every form of suffering when he was in the world. “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isa. 53:3). Jesus was betrayed and tortured. He is well acquainted with your grief, and he will never leave you (John 14:18). I know, therefore, that perceived wisdom (my own included) demands I forgive this woman who caused me such pain. I know it’s the Christian thing to do. I know he who has been forgiven much ought to forgive much in return (Luke 7:47).

I know.

Yet I want to make public my frustration toward crimes she never paid for. At the same time I want to be magnanimous in my forgiveness as Christ has been in his for my sin.

I feel conflicted."

Read the rest here.

Photo courtesy of The Gospel Coalition.

God Forgives and Forgets (And You Should Too)

There was a verse in Hebrews that used to cause me a great deal of discomfort.

[The Lord said] "For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more." (Hebrews 8:12)

There was a pause. Something seemed terribly awry. How can an omniscient Judge forget somebody's sins? This seems all askew, out of whack. God forgets?

Yes. God forgets. But not in the way you think, or forget. We forget unintentionally. Things just sort of get etched out of our minds over time and new things sprout up and grow in their place. Sometimes we forget to take our car keys or pick up milk, little things from a close proximity ago, things we should easily remember (my dad and I are terrible for this). Other times we forget things from long ago, big things, like the day we were born. But ours is never an intentional forgetfulness.

God's is. But because He is omniscient and we will be "held accountable to God" (Romans 3:19), His forgetfulness is not a permanent erasing of sin. In other words, He isn't unable to remember our sin. He is no scatter brain, misplacing the record of our lies or thoughtless words somewhere. His forgetfulness is an active putting away of the sin that is being held against us. It is intrinsically connected to forgiveness. God forgives us and He stops holding that sin against us in judgement. 

In that particular way, God forgives and forgets. (Don't use that phrase without a careful explanation and understanding of the way that God forgets.) Thus, in a way that models the merciful character of God, we too should exercise forgiveness and the grace of forgetfulness. People will do heinous things to us. That doesn't mean we forget their deeds; sometimes we can't. But it means that we stop holding that sin against them. We forget by forgiving.

At one time Peter didn't really understand forgiveness. There was an occasion when he approached Jesus and asked Him, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" And then Jesus radicalized Peter's understanding of forgiveness and answered him, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Matthew 18:21-22). There is no limit to the forgiveness we are called to extend. Forgive somebody seven times, seventy-seven times, two thousand times, or more. Forgiveness is a discipline, necessary, albeit difficult. But we are called to it. We are called to it endlessly. At least, until the day comes where we have nothing more to forgive. 

So what will you forgive and forget today?

Clear Winter Nights: A Review

Twenty two year old Chris Walker is sure he's in his "dark night of the soul." He's broken off his engagement, stepped back from a church plant, is wrestling with painful secrets about his father, and is debating whether he should just abandon his Christian faith. Then he goes to spend a weekend with Granddad Gil, a retired pastor, and the conversations start. Trevin Wax's novel is aptly named: Clear Winter Nights: A Journey Into Truth, Doubt, and Whatever Comes After.

This is the first work of fiction I've reviewed on jaquelle.ca, and I think it's an appropriate start. I have read a lot of fiction before, but Wax's novel was unlike any other story I've ever read. That's because of its description. Wax himself called it, "Theology in Story." In an interview with Amazon, he said,

I'm being up front about the purpose of the story - to teach. Readers who pick up this book will learn something from the characters and their questions and conversations. It's not just a theology book, because this is a narrative about two people engaging the big questions of life. Neither is it just a fiction book, because there are certainly some theological teachings that come through in the dialogue. It's both - theology in story.

But the purpose is not just to entertain, and that's where Wax veers off the traditional novel path. The description of Clear Winter Nights could also be "Conversations about Theology," for that's what most of the book is. The back cover says,

What happens when a young Christian dealing with disillusionment and doubt spends a weekend with an elderly, retired pastor? They talk. And no subject is off limits.

They talk about what every disillusioned, doubting Christian (or non-Christian for that matter) wants to know. Is truth relative? What about homosexuality? Why is Christianity so exclusive? Forgiveness. Evangelism. Hate. Love. Sin. Grace. I found it beautifully refreshing to see a story about theology with theology, not the story, as the centerpiece. If I had to find one fault with this book, it would be that the plot (the story) lacked a little. It seemed to fizzle out at the end, but maybe that's how Wax wanted it - no wam-bam finish, just a quiet one.

I would definitely recommend this book, especially to a doubting or struggling Christian (or non-Christian) who enjoys fiction. There is enough narrative to make you feel like you're not reading a theology book, but enough theology to make this unlike any other fiction book you've read. I enjoyed both Gil's and Chris' distinctive voices, their parallel perspectives and individual fears, doubts, and beliefs. I feel like I have grown through reading Clear Winter Nights, and I think you will too.

Buy Clear Winter Nights here

Hurt Feelings

Last week was Ladies Bible Study and we had a fantastic evening of biblical teaching, fellowship and Miss Donna's incredible apple bovarian torte. Mom taught the lesson and it was so good I thought I would share some of her notes (with her permission) here! The topic was "Hurt Feelings," and it was based on chapter five in Martha Peace's excellent book, Damsels in Distress. Be warned - it's convicting!

Intentional Hurts
This is how we began - looking at how to respond when people intentionally hurt our feelings, whether through a spiteful comment, slander, gossip, etc. There were eight basic biblical principles for how we are to overcome intentional hurts.

1. Show love to God and the person sinning against you. We must forgive and show kindness and patience. It is also helpful to think about things from the person sinning against you's perspective - what are they going through right now?
2. Thank God for the test. This is a chance to give into temptation or to grow in Christ-likeness.
3. Overcome evil with good. My mom said wisely, "You do not have to feel like it, you do not have to desire it, and the other person does not have to deserve it, but you do have to respond righteously."
4. Give a blessing instead. (1 Peter 3:9)
5. Pray for those who mistreat you. Pray for grace to respond to the situation and pray for their repentance.
6. Speak the truth in love. (Ephesians 4:15 and Proverbs 15:28)
7. Lovingly confront the person who is sinning against you. (Galatians 6:1 and Matthew 18:15-20)
8. Bring other witnesses into the situation if necessary. (Matthew 18)

Unintentional Hurts
Then we turned to how to respond to someone who has unintentionally hurt our feelings - whether through a careless comment, a perceived insinuation, or anything we take as offensive. The first thing we discussed here was the sin of judging motives. Only God sees the heart. We can think we see the heart and make up any motives we want, but we cannot know the truth unless we seek clarification.

But what is the process when our feelings are hurt by someone completely unintentionally? First we must ask ourselves an important question,

Who am I most concerned about right now?

We have two answers to choose from - either myself or the other person. If we say "myself," then we have to ask ourselves a few more questions,

Am I being overly sensitive? Is what was done or said true and said in love? Did I judge motives? Am I refusing or unwilling to deal with the situation because it would make me uncomfortable?

Finally we must acknowledge our sin and repent! But what if we had chosen "the other person" as who we're most concerned about? Then we must ask,

Do I need to seek clarification?

And then we have two biblical responses:

1. The best thing for the other person is for me to overlook the offense in love.
2. Or the best thing for the other person is for me to point out their sin in order to bring them to a right relationship with God and others.

Like everything else, we must respond biblically to hurt feelings in a way that will most demonstrate the character of Christ and bring Him the most glory.

My Apologies

A few nights ago, Travis announced that he had an idea for a blog post for me. My interest thoroughly piqued, I asked what it was. "Well," he replied, "do you remember when we used to say sorry to each other every night?" Of course I did. It started five or six years ago, when we lived in Texas and our bedrooms were adjoining. It must have been after a recent devotion on not letting the sun set on our anger, (Ephesians 4:26) so in our logical ten and eight year old minds we decided we would apologize to each other every night before we went to sleep. This was a blanket statement. An "I'm sorry for everything bad I did to you today" sort of thing. And then we would promptly forgive each other (racing sometimes to see who could say "I forgive you" faster) and then, our consciences appeased, fall into a contented sleep.

But Travis discovered there was a bit of problem with our elementary views on repentance and forgiveness. "When we just said, 'I'm sorry for everything,'" he told me, "that was wrong. We should have thought back to specific sins we did against the other person and asked forgiveness for those." And then, right there, he apologized for some specific sins he thought or committed against me that day.

I can learn a lot from my brother. When he applied that to our situation, he also said we need to apply it to our prayers. When we hear that we need to repent of our sins to God, we think that's easily possible, that we can give a blanket statement, just like Travis and I did before bed. We can say "I'm sorry for everything bad I did today, God," and then, without even really thinking about, fall into an appeased sleep.

But God doesn't want a blanket statement.

God wants true, godly repentance. That repentance consists of examining your day, thinking back to specific sins and asking the Holy Spirit to convict you of sins you can't remember. Then it results in grief over your sin. No flippancy here. God wants you to grieve, to mourn, to be truly upset and sad and angry over your sin. (2 Corinthians 7:10) He wants you to hate it, to destroy it. (Colossians 3:5) Then He wants you to ask for forgiveness for specific sins. I admit, I have trouble with this. It can be painful to look back and think again about the wrongs that you've done, the shame that you felt. But there is freedom in repentance, because true repentance results in forgiveness.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9

So who knew little brothers could teach you so much?

77 Chances ... Or More

Once upon a time there was a very wealthy king who wanted to settle his accounts with his servants. So he sent for one of his servants who was greatly indebted to him, owing him 10,000 talents (equivalent roughly to a peasant's wages for 1,000,000,000 days). The servant could not pay the debt, so the king justly declared that he and all his family should be sold to make up for the payment. But the servant fell on his knees and with all of his heart, begged his master not to punish him. So the king had pity on his servant and mercifully declared the debt forgiven. The servant left with a happy heart. After leaving the king's presence, he headed straight for his friend's house, where he stormed in, seized his friend and began to choke him, demanding payment for a debt. His happiness was short-lived, for his friend owed him a debt, but a debt of just 100 denarii (about three months wages). His friend could not pay it, and falling down on his knees, he begged for mercy, promising to pay later. But the servant refused, and threw his friend in jail.

Now a few of the king's other servants found out about this and were, unsurprisingly, troubled. So they approached the king and told him what had happened. The king was furious and called the servant to his presence. "You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?" Then, enraged, he threw the servant in jail until his debt was paid.

This was a story told by Jesus in Matthew 18:21-35, right after Peter asked Him a question: "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" (Matt. 18:21) Peter thought his question was pretty good, and his suggested answer even better! "How many chances for forgiveness should I give people? As many as seven?" But Jesus' answer was radically different: "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times." (emphasis mine) And then He told the above story to illustrate His point.

Forgiveness was something Jesus was trying to hit home hard. By saying seventy-seven times, He was emphasizing that forgiveness was not something as shallow to just be done one or two or three or seven times, but as many as seventy-seven ... or more. Jesus was not saying that you only had to give those around you seventy-seven chances and then you could stop forgiving them! No, that's missing the point. He was simply pointing out that as many times as we think we ought to forgive someone, we really ought to forgive them way more.

Jesus finished His story with this, "So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart." (Matt. 18:35) Wow. If we don't choose to extend forgiveness to others, God will not extend forgiveness to us. That's pretty harsh. But it sure makes me want to forgive others a lot more!

It's easy to take offense and hold grudges but harder to forgive. But as Jesus tells us, we must forgive, giving people as many chances as they need. Because if we don't, the consequences are too great - God will not forgive us.