When a Tree Falls

On Monday, my neighbor across the street cut down the 20’ foot tree that was in his front yard. I’m not sure what type of tree it was, but I do remember over 15 years ago when it was planted by the previous home owners and only 7 feet tall.

One day before the young sapling went up I was talking with the husband. The couple had been struggling financially and he landed a job as a bouncer at a nearby strip club. He opened up and told me that his wife didn’t like him working there. I told him that it was a normal thing for a wife not to be thrilled with their husband working around a bunch of naked women. I suggested for his marriages sake to find another place to work, which he did. That’s when the small tree went up as a symbol of their new love and commitment to each other.

I’m not sure why or how things fell apart after that, but they did. They divorced, lost the house and like so many today, their kids found themselves in a divided home. As the tree fell I couldn’t help but remember them. I remembered their struggles, their hope, the kids and the loss.

On another note; a close friend of mine lost her father tonight, or as she wrote in her text, “My daddy is gone.” His health had been failing and today the battle ended and he fought no more. I have found that no matter how much time you have to prepare yourself or see the inevitable on the horizon for something like this, there is just no stopping the hurt, sorrow or loss.

David wrote in Psalm 56

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

I hope some comfort can be found in the knowledge that God not only sees, but cares. That no matter who we are, where we are, or what happens, that someone is there to remember when a tree falls.

A Jesus That Looks Like Me

On my recent trip to Haiti there was a large mural on the wall of a religious school that had a painting of Jesus with black skin. That may be surprising to some, but is it really any different than the European Jesus with white skin or even the hippie Jesus popular back in the 70’s? Let’s face it; few of our renderings represent a man born to a Jewish woman in the first century.

I understand the reasons we envision Jesus appearance to be like ours, it’s because we want someone we can relate to, but I think sometimes we go further and try to make Jesus relate to us. So now he not only comes with our color skin, he also comes with our bias. He condemns those involved in sins we have no struggles with, but turns a compassionate eye on the ones we do. And though I believe there are clearly things that are right and wrong, true justice can only be administered by one who has all the facts, and usually we don’t.

Honestly, I believe Jesus is a lot less what we’d like him to be and a lot more what we need him to be. He is more accepting of people than we are, after all, he was known as a friend of sinners (how many churches still have that reputation?), but at the same time he effectively challenged people like Zacchaeus (a thief) to change and better himself as a human being. He seems to extend more grace than we do (the women caught in adultery), but has no problem delivering clear justice. He knows when we need to be encouraged and when we need to be confronted. In the end, he is someone who can actually help us and see above our ignorance and prejudice.

Through the years I have come to recognize that there are things in me I have no power to fix, but I also realize, neither can a Jesus that looks like me.