In the Facebook world, tags are huge.  People can find you, click and tag you as being you!

“Hey there’s Philip.  I know him but nobody’s tagged him!  Oh the dismay of a person who’s not tagged in a picture! And so we grab the mouse we click and we tag him in the photo.  Long before Facebook, the Internet, or even the keyboard- no, much further than that, God tagged us. His tag changes everything. Before we became connected with God (not through Facebook) but through life itself, the air we breathe, the things that we did, we were tagged. Long before there were oceans and orangutans, there was a God who had your face in his imagination. He knew this day before he created you. Before you had one strand of DNA, before your parents met, before the earth was formed, God wanted you and he made a plan to redeemed you.  Today, let’s take a look at three of the many tags God placed upon our lives as believers.

1.  We are tagged as adopted.

 5 He predestined us to be adopted through Jesus Christ for Himself, according to His favor and will, 6 to the praise of His glorious grace that He favored us with in the Beloved.

Adoption is a rich word. It’s rich because it means that God does not stand beside us supporting us. It does not mean that God in some way simply sponsored us. No. The God of the universe reached out and over and into his creation and placed his hand upon us He adopted us has sons and daughters. What an amazing treasure! He didn’t employ us. He didn’t simply support us. He didn’t watch us from a distance. The divine author of the universe did not only come to us and rub shoulders with us but he chose us! He said “you’re my family.” He said “I’ll be your father.” He said, “there isn’t a price that I wouldn’t pay for your redemption. Because you’re my child.” It’s a kind and wonderful concept that God chose us but it’s even more exciting when we realize that he adopted us his family.

 We are a part of an everlasting g family.

 

2.  We are tagged as Redeemed

 

7 We have redemption in Him through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace 8 that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. 9 He made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His good pleasure that He planned in Him 10 for the administration[d] of the days of fulfillment[e]—to bring everything together in the Messiah, both things in heaven and things on earth in Him.

As unbelievable as it may seem, we are redeemed. God calls us redeemed. He has purchased us and He has forgiven us.

Verse 7 makes it very clear that the redemption isn’t something that we have accomplished in our own good works. The exact opposite is true. The redemption that we receive in the core of our being does not come from us but rather from the blood of Jesus. He has forgiven our trespasses and He is given us life. This is the deep nature of the redeemed.

In verse 8 we read the word lavished. In other words, this is not some teaspoon redemption. It is not a redemption that is microscopic in any way. This is a full-on, wide-open redemption. God holds nothing back from us.

This kind of redemption is hard for us to wrap our brains around because we live in a capitalistic society. In our society:

We earn.

We invest.

We are judged by results.  

We realize that this redemption has nothing to do with us. We are not the focus of the work that caused our salvation. Why? The answer is clear. We are redeemed because God found pleasure in doing so.

 We are freed by an everlasting sacrifice.

How did we fall into this amazing family? Paul is clear.  It all has to do with Jesus.  I once heard a professor say that Jesus Christ is the lead actor on the human stage. I love the way that sounds. And the “human stage” adds a certain crowning preeminence to the Person of Jesus. But the metaphor falls short. It isn’t high enough. It is much too limiting to say that Jesus is the protagonist or to say His name is listed on the program above but near to St. Paul, Martin Luther (and King Jr. too), and a score of bit actors like us. Paul makes a point of lifting Jesus up higher than that. To use the theatre metaphor, Jesus is the playwright, executive producer, director, owner, and founder of our story. He is over everything.

Brennan Manning wrote it like this: “Our longing to know who we really are—which is the source of all our discontent—will never be satisfied until we confront and accept our solitude. There we discover that the truth of our belovedness is really true. Our identity rests in God’s relentless tenderness for us revealed in Jesus Christ.”

3.  We are tagged as ­Heirs.

11 We have also received an inheritance in Him, predestined according to the purpose of the One who works out everything in agreement with the decision of His will, 12 so that we who had already put our hope in the Messiah might bring praise to His glory.

13 When you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and when you believed in Him, you were also sealed with the promised Holy Spirit. 14 He is the down payment of our inheritance, for the redemption of the possession, to the praise of His glory.

Not only were we redeemed and adopted. God went a step further. He tagged us as heirs.  He proclaimed that we would be the recipients of an incredible inheritance that was given to us through Christ Jesus.

We are blessed with an everlasting inheritance.

When we are a part of God’s family we are adopted. We are recipients of an eternal inheritance.

Oh, to live in the love that sent a sinless Savior to a dying world to claim us as yours!

Jim Elliot described it like this:

He is no fool if he should choose to give the things he cannot keep to buy what He could never lose.

 Isaac Watts said it this way:

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Paul writes in the letter to Philippians:

I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

The Message Bible puts it this way:

I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself.

Phil. 3:10-11

Is there any finite ecstasy, happiness, any exhilaration with an expiration date that could compare to eternal adventure with someone so awesome that he created the hammerhead shark and the hummingbird? Could there be any thing greater than to know him intimately?

John the beloved said:

Behold what manner of love the father has given unto us that we are called the sons (and daughters) of God.

Again Isaac Watts:

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

If only we could make this our obsession—

Not for our own glory, not that we can stand before heretics and say, “I told you so.” Not because we are good- far be it from us to think that we in ourselves deserve the title “good.” Our righteousness is nothing.

May we have such a hunger for God, such a desire to enter into his chambers, such a hope to see the holy smoke and fire, to be baptized into the extraordinary and exiled from the typical. May we not miss the bliss of God’s pleasure and the breeze stirs by the wings of angels.

May we want to know Him. And what devastates every smallish notion of God, what vaporizes the current of my finite mind is that this God who created everything. The one who crowned Kilimanjaro with snow and taught each cardinal to fly is on a quest for my heart. And it’s an all or nothing proposition. Do you want to know him? Do you want to know Christ? Do you want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead?

Do you want to know Christ this who has loved you before there was you?

Conclude with the reflection song by Casting Crowns:  “Who am I?”

Prayer:

Father, I thank you that you have given us a different way to live our lives. We realize that the battle for our lives is really a battle for identity.  We often see ourselves as insufficient, cursed and unsatisfactory. We know that’s not the way you see us. You see us wrapped in your righteousness. Prepared for your purpose.  Eternally important and deeply loved How can this be? Is your love, grace and freedom really that strong? Strong enough to know us, claim us, redeem us and empower us?

 

Who are we that you would care for us like that? Who are we that you would choose us? Who are we that you would place your holy hands on us? Enter into our story and make it a part of Your story?

 

Lord, outside of You we are a vanishing vapor, a fleeting flower… here today, gone tomorrow. But in your words you say that we are valuable. We are chosen

 

We are Yours forever. We are set apart. We are being transformed. Help us to live with that perspective. Help us, as difficult as it seems some days.

He’s far beyond imagination

the heights and depths of all creation.

By His word the villains fall

He’s far above creation’s all

His reign is perfect

His words are true.

This Lord of all I’m going through

The Holy keeper of the key

the mystery grand: Great One in Three

The plans He made will never fail

In everything He will prevail

A warrior for the souls of men

Destroyer of the weight of sin

His blood is life unto my soul

Not in part, but in the whole

The skeptics doubt. The liars scheme.

Yet still his truth- a cleansing stream.

He speaks in every native tongue

The voice from which the stars were flung.

Why do I doubt His plan for me?

For He commands eternity.

Let truth be told. He is my King

The air I breathe. The song I sing

In His hands my fears are slain.

 

And Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart–

This phrase has arrested me for years, because pondering to me in a sense is a form of worship. To ponder, in a sense is to daydream about God. A time when the world stands still in quiet moments. There is very little pondering that goes on these days. Lots of scurrying, entertaining, playing, eating, arguing, and obsessing but pondering is a rare commodity.

“All these things”

What things? The adventure of this teenage new mother towers over the likes of kings, rulers and presidents. Generals, celebrities, and artists. She was the hailed by an archangel, the one and only virgin to be impregnated. That would be enough to lift her into the stratosphere of history. But that’s not half the story. The Baby she carried was the Son of God.

And after all was done. Mary pondered.

What would she ponder: Fears, hopes, wonder,and a tapestry of memories.

“Mary . . .”

“Father?”

“Mary . . .”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

You can imagine the fear that accompanies every angelic visitation.

“Don’t be afraid, Mary.”

With those words, Mary knew that this wasn’t Joseph in her bedroom. It wasn’t her Father. An uncle, or a grandpa. The vocal chords the reverberated into her room were not of earthly origin.

“Did I die? I don’t want to die.”

“No, Mary, you’re not dead. I have a message for you.”

“A message for me? Are you sure you have the right Mary?”

“This is good news–you are favored by God. God is going to bless you in a wonderful and miraculous way. You will give birth to a Son. And you will call His name Jesus.”

You can imagine the questions because millions of pregnant teens have had to grapple with the fears, the worry, the reputation, the explanations that accompany an unexpected pregnancy.

But there is no record in scripture that Mary did anything other than believe God. It was a strange time for her. Mary took the challenge and faced the gossip and rejection, but she wasn’t alone. Love and companionship are miracle cures.

Like Noah surrounded by laughing neighbors, like Moses being mocked in Pharaoh’s court, like Elijah before the prophets of Baal, Mary stood strong. In truth, her faith was challenged even more than those men because she had not miraculous rod-snake to throw at the feet of unbelievers. She had no fire from heaven, she had no storm clouds or thunder. She only had the private promise on an angel and the certainty that she was pure and purely blessed. She lived in an ordinary quiet little town, much smaller than Tioga and much less regarded by outsiders.

However their were some small private confirmations. They included a very old aunt who probably could have been a great grandmother, named Elizabeth. Pregnant for the first time, she was escorted by a husband who seemed to all to be at a loss for words. Life the lions on Daniel, God shut his mouth.

Certainly Mary and Joseph had their unheavenly moments. The 70 mile journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Just imagine this possible scenario. Mary begins to have contractions before the Bethlehem city lights are in view.

“Mary, are you okay?”

“I don’t think I can ride another mile on this donkey!” Mary cries out.

“Mary, we’re almost there. Before you know it, we’ll pay for a room and I’ll find a doctor.”

“You don’t have enough money for a doctor,” Mary reminds the Nazareth Home Improvement employee.

Joseph moves away from Mary a little and whispers into the night air,”Lord, I’d like to speak to that angel again. Do You think that’s possible?”

They were selected by God, but rejected by people.

“Sorry, no room”

“The room isn’t available.”

“Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight.”

“No vacancy.”

“Didn’t you read the sign?”

“We’re booked solid.”

God, in His infinite love, passed over the rich and elite to touch the common. He chose the shepherds, street people, lepers, and the unwanted of the world. He could have created a palace that would make Buckingham look like a cheap hotel, but He passed on the palace and made a reservation for His Son at a stable. And there in that stable, Jesus Christ began His task, His do-or-die mission to save the world. But time stood still that night. That holy night. Woman: There was a glimmer of divine hope in this evil world. Mary and Joseph, I’m sure, were exhilarated, but certainly exhausted. Mary,in a barn full of visiting animals: horses, mules, stray dogs, and perhaps a camel; splinters, hay; Joseph snoring; and those shepherds loudly recounting angelic visitations woke the Baby three times! But now, just before dawn, with all asleep except Mary and a mule, she gathers from the hope chest of the near past a tapestry of memories.

What would be a few of those memories that she would ponder.

the beautiful colors of Gabriel’s clothes,
the look on the face of Elizabeth when she turned and saw Mary,
the clamor of packing for the dreaded tax appointment,
no-vacancy signs
and a nervous, frustrated father,
the incarnate kicks,
the looming grief,
the tiny hands that would pierce her heart.
She wept and smiled
an orchestra of emotions in concert with the breeze
that swept through the Bethlehem hills like a Spirit newly released.
And Mary pondered.

What could she say. This this complex and mysterious supersede words. They are moments to ponder. I like to call them “selah moments” Moments where we can only say “God did it.” Anything else, any extra words would only taint the experience. These are moments to ponder. The mystery of the Christian experience is that we all are invited to enter into the dance of the divine. We are all offered an experience that will turn our Narareths into Bethlehems.

Holy moments to ponder… if we stop and listen and realize that God did it.

When we see a baby born on a bright and beautiful morning we can say God did it.
When a rebel son is seen on the western horizon of home, we can say God did it. 
When a woman in her eighties experiences a touch from God in the midst of her grief, we can say, “God did it!”
When a minor symptom is investigated, and a hidden, deadly, ailment is discovered and repaired we can say, God did it.

Luke 11:11-13 says this: “You fathers–if your children ask for a fish, do you give them a snake instead? Or if they ask for an egg, do you give them a scorpion? Of course not! If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.”

This is the how much more-ness of the gospel. It’s realizing that God’s Son is the prince of Peace- not the prince of revenge. That he didn’t come to heap more laws, or guilt, or curses upon the land. He came to introduce us to the word and the concept of grace.

St. Paul’s prayer to the Ephesians at the close of his letter reflects my conclusion as I ponder this extravagant grace:

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge–that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

She was there and Mary watched her son’s breathing on that cross- the final moments of agony-  as she looked at him there, we can imagine her mind racing back to those moments as a two year old- Jesus sleeping on his tummy, the back rising and falling with each breath he took.

We understand this dangerous truth:  That the choices we make are given meaning by the things we give up.

And those words-  Woman behold your son- Son behold your mother.

And then he died.

I can only imagine the grief.  As they took his broken, lifeless body down from the cross. The anger of her son destroyed, mocked, rejected, a felon called Barabbas was preferred over her boy.

No doubt Mary went through the grief any mother would experience.  Like a scene from Steel Magnolias…

I’m fine! I can jog all the way to Bethlehem and back and back, but my son can’t! Oh God! I am so mad I don’t know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know *why* Oh *God* I wanna know *why*? *Why*? Lord, I wish I could understand!

No! No! No! It’s not supposed to happen this way! I’m supposed to go first. I’ve always been ready to go first!

Jesus

creator

King of every king

and yet this was Mary’s boy.

blood spilled grace on me

and still Mary’s boy

piercing your heart Mary

to save me

forsaking you

and his kingdom

for me.

What a terrible loss

you suffered

to watch this one you feed, changed, embraced

carried, protected, and nourished

now condemned to bear nails and thones

whips and shame

so that we could all come to the table.

and face the gethsemane of every broken generation

he cried for his Daddy as the sunset brought shadows

on the edge of town.

You had others

but that night He was your only Boy.

The cross is not an edict against the sinner. It is a romantic proclamation to the sinner.
Why do so many in the church take up the mantle of the Pharisee and find it pleasing?
How can a conflicted, angry, bitter, excluding bride honor the Groom?
Somehow the church must forsake the stones of condemnation and enter into His pure and confounding grace. If we lose ourselves in radical, relentless, redemptive love we will find Him where He has always been. He has left the 99 to find the one.

Can you believe it? I’m free! After months of chains, the stench of the prison, the hopelessness of my existence—I’m free!

I waited for the guards to call my name and to lead me to the Place of the Skull. They arrested me, chained me, and sentenced me to die. I heard the crowds scream out my name. My heart pounded. I knew that this was the day. The day I would experience the torture I deserved. This was the day that I would gasp my final breath.

The punishment would soon follow. I heard them screaming, “Barabbas! Barabbas!” Their voices echoed all the way down into the depths of that dark cell where I had been chained. Then silence. I heard the voice of Pilate shouting to the people, but not loud enough for me to understand. Then I heard the mob scream out, “Crucify Him!”

And then within a few minutes I heard the guards walking down into that musty cell where I was. They opened the doors and broke the chains.

“You are free” They said. “Free? What do you mean?” I asked.

“You have been set free. Someone has taken your place.”

What is His name? The one who takes my place. What is His name? Why? Someone took my place on that cross. I must know His name. Do you know Him? This man who is dying on the hill for me, do you know His name?

“to whom God would make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the nations, which is Christ in you the hope of glory!

Collossians 1:27

 

As I run to him I am running toward a hope that is far greater than the fanciful, temporal acclamations of this world’s squalor. When I approach Him I cross the line of divine foolishness. For indeed I am a fool for Him. I place my battered soul and broken crown, (everything that I have embraced for hope), I place it all at the feet of Christ

I am done with solutions
I am done with dispassionate living
I am done with self-sufficiency
I am done with filthy closets and shiny steeples
I am done with running through the muck of my human righteousness
The quicksand on the outskirts of Eden

I have a hope when all hope seems lost. I have freedom when I recognize the chains. When I reach the Potter’s house, glory spins and in the dizziness there is relief.

There is a quiet understanding, a stillness of the inner soul, finding its way into the the deep recesses of my heart.
Life as I know is dead to everything alive. Yes, Christ in me. The hope of Glory

 

In bed the alarm rings, I feel as if my body is 180 lbs. of cement.  God whispers, What did you expect? You haven’t taken a day off in 12 days.

Ouch!

That morning I asked:

Do I have to run quickly to and fro?
Do I have to get up today and go?
I’d rather throw bed sheets over my head
Or visit the zoo with my boys instead
I’d hand my to-dos to a wart-covered toad
And chat with a neighbor just down the road.
I’d rather run in the fields of my youth
I’d rather be 20, to tell you the truth
I’d rather sneak off with a tall stack of books
And give the librarian puzzling looks
I rather discuss life with a glass of ice tea
With someone as incredibly burned out as me.
I rather hike the Grand Canyon today
But I don’t have gas money so guess that I’ll stay.

Life, in an average 21^st Century family, blows out of our window at 150 miles an hour. We barely give ourselves the elbowroom to really succeed. I know that this is a major character flaw of many guys. As men, husbands, dads and employees, we instinctively find our self-worth in doing more than just being. Sometimes I wonder how many opportunities I missed because of the words; “have to” “ought to” and “gotta”? God meant for you to leave room for him to work. If we don’t our prayer life, our parenting, our marriage, our future all suffer.

Our best days are marked in moments that usually don’t happen because we had more important things to do.  We look at our kids, in every life stage, and wonder if they’ll ever grow up and then, before we know it, we realize… they did.

Every man I know seems to think he has a warp-speed button. Perhaps that’s why we love the idea of superpowers and action heroes. I must confess I press the warp-speed button far too often. But the reverse gear is nonexistent. We don’t get any do-overs for yesterday.

So from today on, I promise to look at all the incredible blessings that are buried under my to-do lists, agendas, and behind the billboards that blur across the windshield as I shift into fifth on the open road.

I will try to give more than I get. I can’t keep it anyway. God is planning a huge end-of-the-earth bonfire. Even the antique doilies my wife bought for next-to-nothing on e-Bay will be ashes.

I will make it job #1 to hang on for dear life to my family, my friends, my mission, and my Jesus. Everything else I’ll move to the back of the line.

Found out a have a blocked saliva gland and swollen Lymph Node. Wonderful….

Other than that. Looks like I have a place to preach Sunday morning. Caleb will be playing the drums at Alpine. Still haven’t heard from Darlene since Tuesday about how her week is going in Nashville.  She has been around friends so I pray she is having a refreshing time.

Caleb and I are making it at home. Trying to get him on a better sleep schedule. I’m really going to have to figure out transportation for Sunday with Caleb at Alpine and myself somewhere near Vidalia, LA.

(A Prayer of Benediction for the Lord’s Supper or Easter Celebration) Lord, I want to ask for Your forgiveness. Tonight my eyes were opened as we sang the words to those hymns that I’ve sung thousands of times. For the first time in my life I was struck by the vastness of Your grace and love for me, and it pierced my heart. I looked at my hands that have so many times brought You shame as I have clinched them in anger. As I have pointed the finger of blame at the innocent, as I have held forbidden fruit—these hands were never pierced. And yet the loving hands that fed and healed and served, those perfect hands of grace were pierced for me.

As we prayed I touched my forehead, I remembered my moments of rage when I accused and fussed and frowned. But my brow was never pierced. And yet Your brow was pierced by thorns. Your wounded head was bleeding. You shed Your blood for me.

Lord, I know that I’ve heard the story a thousand times. I believed it. And it was true. But tonight . . . it was as if for the first time I looked You in the eyes and I felt the holiness of worshiping a God who died. A God who gave His own life for me.

My feet have never felt the gnawing pain that You endured on the cross that day.

My shoulders have never carried the burden of the world in the shape of a cross.

I have never been stripped of everything to die a sinner’s death.

My back never scourged . . .

My face never spit upon . . .

Oh Lord, the agony, the humiliation, the torment—the love.

How could it be?

How could You love me that much?

Tonight, as we took the bread and drank from the cup, I felt the holy presence of Your love.

Thank You, Lord. I don’t understand Your love. I probably never will. But I want You to know that tonight I saw You, and I will never be the same again.

He is fathering me
even in the days I cannot see
Through every trial I face.
He is there even in my disgrace.
Every lonely, broken place.
I am held together bone by bone
and I do not walk alone.
How my neediness has grown.
In my aging days I have come to see
how completely dependent I must be.