In the market for a new home?

I saw some interesting listings in the Wall Street Journal.

Trump Park Avenue, a 32 story condo development by presidential candidate Donald Trump, is offering a penthouse unit for $35 million.  That's more than twice the price of a 4,200 square foot 27^th floor apartment that features oak floors, handcrafted Italian brass doorknobs, and views of Park Avenue.  

Perhaps you hanker for a quieter life and a warmer clime.  Then consider another $35 million dollar listing, this one from Christie's International, in Paradise Valley, Arizona.  

The five bedroom “main house” offers more than 30,000 feet of living space and includes a movie theater and indoor basketball court (complete with score board and sky box seats).  Did I mention the master bedroom features a hair salon, a kitchenette, an office—along with the usual sitting room and his and her closets?  The 12 acre property boasts a swimming pool with his-and-her pool houses and a guesthouse with its own infinity pool (I mean, who could live without one?).  

You say you really are a city girl...a city guy at heart?  Have I got a deal for you in Manhattan!  Take a (really big) bite of the Big Apple when you buy a penthouse under construction at 160 Leroy Street. You'll cough up between 75 and 80 million for a 12,200 square foot “shack.”

The unit will have three kitchens-- a “social kitchen” to entertain, an adjacent “chef's kitchen”--the true grub hub, plus a third kitchen in a private rooftop terrace.  

And then….there’s Jesus who said, “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”

Nothing wrong with having a nice home. 

Nothing better, though, than living for our eternal home. 

Which home are you living for? 

Frankly, I felt ambushed.

I was minding my own business attending church in Arizona with my wife and our friends, Charlie and Kathy, when of all things, we were led in singing an old Sunday School chorus, “Jesus Loves Even Me.”

Words splashed on the screen, but few in the crowd needed them:

            I am so glad that our Father in Heav’n
            Tells of His love in the Book He has giv’n;
            Wonderful things in the Bible I see,
            This is the dearest, that Jesus loves me.”

The chorus goes on to testify:

            I am so glad that Jesus loves me, Jesus love me, Jesus loves me.

            I am so glad that Jesus loves me—Jesus loves even me.

A lump formed in my throat, amazed afresh at my own redemption: Jesus loves even me.   But how could I—how could we—ever lose this sense of astonishment?  Somehow, we do.

Like a fried egg gone cold, we get crusty around the edges.   Over time, we convince ourselves that there probably is something of worth about the air-brushed lives we lead, after all.  “Why of course Jesus loves me!” is our secret stance.  “After all, I'm a reasonably decent person.”

Gone is the image of spittle on the face of Christ, and my phlegm the source of that humiliation.  Gone the oozing bald patch on Christ's face, and mine the hand gripping His ripped out beard.  Gone the spikes that pin his flesh and mine the hand grasping the hammer. 

Worse, we engage in a spiritual cover-up, like a spiritual version of Photoshop.  We conjure up pixels of self-righteousness and presume ourselves presentable.  Yet Jesus sees it all, would forgive it all.  More than that, He wants to love us.  So He whispers His love again—sometimes in a simple kids' chorus.

          I am so glad that Jesus loves me.

          Jesus loves...even me. 

Demolition has gone high tech.  Gone are the days of the giant bowling ball swinging from a crane cable. Today's demolition teams are powered by hydraulic claws resembling a four-fingered fist that can clench, wrench and rip.  All of that controlled by a digital joystick. 

In downtown Chicago, I watched as the demolition operator yanked an impossibly thin piece of metal away from a building wall (like a robot with refined motor skills) before plowing into brick, steel and wood.  I've also gawked as these grippers pinched a massive chunk of cement, squeezing it into powder.  

As I stared from across the street, entire rooms were ripped open for the entire world to see.  Wall coverings, book shelves, window trim, ceiling tiles, furniture.  It was all there.  Along with mangled electrical and gas piping...doorways leading to nowhere. 

Like I say, it was interesting, but it felt almost voyeuristic: the soul of a building entirely exposed. The experience left me a bit sad and a lot sobered.

Someday our lives will similarly be opened...exposed.  Not for the purpose of destruction—but for judgment.   Romans 14:12 assures us, “So then, each of us shall give account of himself to God.”

The question, of course, is what will Christ discover in me....in you?  Will He find a soul constructed of noble thoughts, pure motives and a golden heart?  Or will He encounter the foundational rot of greed, a secret closet of immoral thoughts and the stench of selfish living?

1 Corinthians 3:12:  “Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one's work will become clear.” 

We may well look pretty good on the outside—like many a condemned building—but all that is inside will soon be revealed for what it is.

Sobering, isn't it?

The chair is hers.

But she no longer occupies it.

The cash register that was hers still takes money.

But death has taken Eloise.

For decades, Eloise worked in Food Service at Moody Bible Institute.   She was one of a kind.   When you showed up with your $4.50 sandwich, she would announce the price to you as “Four hundred and fifty dollars.”

When our son was very young, he helped himself to a few candies without paying.   Upon discovering his heist, we made him stand in line, apologize to Eloise and hand her the money owed. 

Eloise looked after me.  Looked after all of us.  An embarrassing number of times, I would leave glasses or notebooks or calendars behind…only to get a kind phone call from Eloise a bit later.

Eloise had a great heart for urban ministry, prisoners in specific.  She was part of a ministry that cooked a Thanksgiving dinner for every inmate in Cook County Jail.  She gave her money, her vacation time and her energy to this ministry—and invited the rest of us to do the same.

I remember showing up at the County Jail to help out, working side by side with Eloise and a few inmates…making macaroni, and then learning to knead dough for the homemade yeast rolls.  I was reprimanded by one of the sisters for working the dough too hard—though they still gave me an entire pan of those tasty hot rolls at day's end.

But Eloise's grandest legacy, perhaps, is her prayer life.  Few have prayed—or believed—with her conviction.   That’s why this past November, when I was particularly burdened about an international trip, I went straight to Eloise.

Her life was so much bigger than her work as a cashier with Food Service.  She who spent so many years ringing up breakfasts and lunches...will now dine at the wedding supper of the Lamb.

Suddenly, I'm hungry for heaven. 

My “Happy New Year” frame of mind was jolted to a depressing reality when I read a  column in The Week—a favorite news magazine.  An article in the “Poll Watch” section reveals the following:

69% of Americans are convinced that America is heading in the wrong direction.  A whopping 72% now believe our country is not as great as it once was (Bloomberg Politics).  59% believe the economy is doing poorly (CNN/ORC) with 47% saying their family is scraping by, making only enough to pay the bills and other obligations.  19% say they cannot afford some basic expenses (NBC News).  61% believe the American dream is broken and that only the wealthiest can now get ahead (The New York Times/CBS News) and 56% believe most children in the U.S. will grow up to be worse off than their parents (NBC News). 

A record 50% disapprove of the Supreme Court’s recent actions and 86% say they have an unfavorable opinion of Congress (Gallup).  Notably, 55% believe “ordinary Americans” could do a better job of dealing with the nation’s woes than our current elected officials (Pew Research).  And get this—50% of Pennsylvanians would rather be represented by the groundhog Punxsutawney Phil than by their current members of congress (Public Policy Polling). 

83% of voters fear there’ll be a large-scale terrorist attack in the U.S. in the near future.   (Washington Post/ABC News) and 60% think it’s likely that terrorists are living in their hometown (Fox News).  45% fear that the federal government could use a military exercise to covertly seize control of some states. 44% think machines with artificial intelligence could wipe out the human race (Monmouth University Poll). 

What a passel of pessimism!  Not exactly a great launch for the New Year.  But followers of Christ ought never to look for comfort from their culture.  Indeed, Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Source: The Week, December 25, 2015