"People have fallen into a foolish habit of speaking of orthodoxy as something heavy, humdrum, and safe. There never was anything so perilous or so exciting as orthodoxy."

- G.K. Chesterton
Miracle Drug

A couple of days ago Brandi and I watched the 1980 Anthony Hopkins film, The Elephant Man. To say that that movie is moving is an understatement. Simultaneously it's a portrait of human dignity, a redemption story, and a metaphor for the human condition: sin. (It's based on the true story of Joseph Merrick.)

In a culture (and sometimes, a church) where beauty is truth, the ugliness of the Joseph Merrick story helps us to look into the mirror, to see the hideousness that is our sin. We are ugly; yet, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).

One of the most poignant moments of the movie for me was toward the end when Dr. Frederick Treves was helping Merrick get ready for their trip to the theatre. (Minor spoiler alert.) Merrick had just been rescued from being kidnapped and abused, being forced to work in a carnival as a sideshow attraction. Treves apologized to his friend, Merrick, because he wasn't there to help him when his captors seized him.

Merrick replied, "Don't worry about me, my friend. I'm happy every hour of the day, because I'm loved."

Through the kindness of Treves, Merrick tasted of the Miracle Drug -- the love of God. This wasn't a Hollywood romance story. Merrick never fell head over heels in love with some young beauty who learned to look beyond his disfigurement to see the true human being inside. Instead, it was something better. He tasted of the love of God through the kindness and selflessness of his friend, Frederick Treves.

In this age of idolized romance, we need reminders of God's grace through His Son, JESUS Christ, who loved us and pursued us with an everlasting passion despite the deformity of sin.

God, I need your help tonight
Beneath the noise, below the din
I hear your voice it's whispering
In science and in medicine
"I was the stranger, you took me in"
The songs are in your eyes
I see them when you smile
I've had enough of romantic love
Yeah I'd give it up, I'd give it up
For a miracle, miracle drug
-- U2, "Miracle Drug"


It's the Running, Not the Cutting

There's a popular Johnny Cash video out there, set to the song "God's Gonna Cut You Down." The video is something of a collage of cameos by various celebrities. Even though the song speaks of God's judgment, some notably audacious hellions were awed enough by the legend of Cash to make an appearance and mouth a few lines for the video. In particular I think of Kid Rock. I have no doubt that, absent an amazing (not that there's any other kind) work of the Spirit in his life, this video will be on the big screen at the day of judgment.

It's a remarkable song, and jarring in its effect. The steady rhythm and repetitive lyrics will pound the reality of God's judgment into your head.



But as real as God's judgment is, this video captures a hidden gem of Christian truth-- one that too often gets passed over by critics and defenders of God's wrath alike. It comes at about 1:41 in the video, just after Bono.

(I will continue after the applause for Bono dies down)

Okay, let's go.

The video moves from Bono to a blonde lady whose face is filled with pain. (I'll betray my ignorance of celebrity culture here-- I have no idea who she is). Cash sings:

You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down


And the teary-eyed blonde shakes her head and mouths the words for a long time.

Now this may not seem like much, but it cut me to the quick. This is obviously someone who knows what it's like to be on the run. And that alone makes it powerful.

But it's not just the pathos that grabs you. It's the fact that she gets it. I don't know if she's a Christian, but I know-- in that moment-- she captured the agony of life apart from Christ. Most of us get the punchline all wrong. It's not about God cutting you down, although he will do it. It's about the running.

The tragedy isn't in getting cut down. The tragedy is running from God. We can waste our lives and wallow in our "freedom." You can run on for a long time. But in running, you don't postpone a bad thing. You risk losing it all:

For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.


Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.


It's the running, not the cutting, that demands a cry of lament.

Those of us who have been transformed by the Spirit know that God's judgment is a blessing:

God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? . . . For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

"Hello, My Name is Van"

I absolutely love redemption stories.

The following is from Steve McCoy of Reformissionary. This is from an article he wrote on The High Calling website:

In the winter of 1994, I left my apartment in Carbondale, Illinois, and drove to the Baptist Student Center on the campus of Southern Illinois University. My wife, Molly, was not feeling well and decided to stay home. We had spent the past few months searching for spiritual truth and meaning, reading the Bible, and praying. I hoped this advertised "God meeting" on campus might be helpful. So Molly rested, and I left.

The building seemed empty, and I thought about just leaving as I tried to open a few locked doors. I found an open one around back and saw about a dozen students inside. At first glance, they didn't seem like my kind of crowd. I was into partying. They looked like they were into honors algebra. Still I walked in.

A few of them noticed my deer-in-headlights look, welcomed me, and gave me a stick name tag. Three guys were talking in the corner, so I walked over and stood next to a tall guy whose name tag was nearly level with my eyes. "Hello, My Name Is . . . Van."

Trying to fit in, I said, "How's it going, Van?"

"I'm blessed," he said, grinning. It was one of the oddest responses I’d ever heard, and one of the best.

I made it through the meeting, and they invited me to church on Sunday. My wife and I decided to go, and we both responded to the Gospel with repentance and faith. We began new lives in Christ.
Read the whole thing - it's good.