redemption

Condemning Condemnation

July 29, 2023July 29, 2023onebouchard

Condemnation. It’s such a harsh word. The noble goal of our culture in recent years is acceptance. Those two seem to stand in harsh opposition. Acceptance is loving and welcoming. Condemning seems to carry with it disapproval and hate.

Recently verse 17 of the 3rd chapter of the Gospel of John has been used to condemn condemnation by positioning Jesus as the great affirmer. This verse follows the most famous verse in Scripture and says “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.” At first glance it appears we have a friend in Jesus in our quest to affirm and accept…He didn’t come to condemn!

There is a challenge we face if we attempt to draw that lesson from this verse, though. The Bible isn’t a fortune cookie, and so we generally can’t simply grab a sentence we like and draw broad conclusions. There is a coherent, consistent overarching message in scripture. Each historical narrative, poem, letter, and sermon provides an important puzzle piece illuminating the grand message. In short, it all fits together to tell us about God, His plan, mankind, and our purpose in His mission.

Before digging into John 3, it’s good to revisit that overall metanarrative. The story of the Bible is that God created and sustains everything that is, was, and ever will be. Among other things, He is good, He is love, and what He created was glorious. Humans were created in His image and were given stewardship over creation. God’s design for humans was for us to live in relational harmony with each other and with Him. Humans turned from God, though. Even today, we turn from Him both by nature and by our own choice. Every single one of us.

That’s the root of our problem…we were designed to live life in an intimate relationship with God and turning away has left us deeply unsatisfied, but our tendency is to double-down…even though we know our judgment is imperfect, we stubbornly pursue the paths we think will make us whole again. The uncomfortable truth is, we don’t have it in us. We simply aren’t capable of bridging the chasm between ourselves and our deepest need…our Creator. We have run too far. You might even say that in our current circumstances, we are condemned to a life separated from God.

Now snap back to John 3…that’s right where Jesus is meeting us. God–our Creator–loves us so much He sent His only Son so that anyone who places his or her trust in Him will be reconciled to God (16). Jesus did not come into this world to condemn the world (17)…it was already condemned without Him! If we make it to verse 18, it says “…anyone who does not believe is already condemned…” In verse 19 it tells us that Jesus is the light and “people loved darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil.” That’s the story of all of us. We’ve lived in the darkness that comes from being isolated from Him. We’re comfortable in the dark and so we shun the light.

What I’ve learned from both Scripture and personal experience is that Jesus meets us where we are. Whatever lifestyle we’re living, whatever we may be worshiping, and whatever speed we may be running from Him. Wherever we are, we can simply turn and discover He’s right there with His arms ready to embrace us. He already knows us deeply and loves us wholly. When we turn to Him, we place our trust entirely in Him. It’s a humble acknowledgment that our Creator knows more about His creation than we do. Although we may recoil against some of the implications of the life He calls us to, we trust and know He is good, He knows everything, designed everything, He is wise, and He loves us. We can trust Him. And so when Jesus meets us where we are, He doesn’t leave us there. When we turn to embrace and trust Him, we don’t turn back! We continue drawing nearer to Him and following Him, even if it means our old life slips away. Honestly, we know it wasn’t working anyway. But like a childhood stuffed animal or an old, favorite sweatshirt…it can be hard to walk away from the things that gave us comfort before we knew Him.

The lesson we learn from leaning into Scripture is that Jesus doesn’t come into the world to condemn us because we are already condemned without Him. The great news is that Jesus knows us fully and loves us deeply…in fact, He is the only one who truly can. The message the world screams at us is that we are fine the way we are. We are captains of our own fate, we are the masters of our souls. These days this is called affirmation and acceptance. But true affirmation acknowledges more than just our preference and inclinations…it acknowledges our circumstance, our loneliness, our pain, and our longings. It acknowledges our weariness. And love doesn’t leave us there. Jesus won’t leave us there.

On The Road

November 18, 2020November 18, 2020onebouchard

This classic post first appeared on my blog close to 10 years ago. It seems timely today so I am resurrecting it here.

Oh the irony. I remember all those times I drew comparisons between following God’s plan and driving on the highway. How many times have I told people that when God wants you to exit, there will be signs? If you miss them, there will be more chances. Just stay alert.

Nice metaphor as long as your car keeps cruising along. I never counted on a breakdown. I suppose we rarely see those coming. Now it’s apparently broken beyond repair. No mechanic in sight. It’s sickening to think of how much work I’ve put into it, too. Making it shiny. Putting gas in the tank, polishing the chrome. This was my pride and joy. It got me where I needed to go.

So how do I keep cruising down the highway? Well, I’ve still got feet. So I keep walking that highway. It’s the direction that’s important, right? As long as I kept pushing myself up that mountain, everything would work out, just a bit more slowly than I had planned.

The road wasn’t made for walking, so I branched off. I saw a sign. I knew I was supposed to head into the woods. In fact, in retrospect I thought it was a blessing that the car broke down. I would have missed this lovely path entirely if I had continued at 60 miles per hour! I told myself I was grateful I decided to walk.

Oh, but my legs ached. They screamed. I’d been pushing so hard. Tired, hungry, and thirsty, I cried out, “God where are you?” I never could have uttered those four words from the comfort of the air conditioned car. Now they were all I had left. Still, I kept trudging along. I knew that if I just worked hard enough, I would find what I needed. I’d find Him.

The forest provided no relief. The cool shade became a chilly darkness. Between the critters and the exhaustion, it felt like there were enemies everywhere. Adrenaline provided the nourishment my body craved, pushing me forward. Lost and utterly alone, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I kept repeating “I can do this. I can find Him.” I can’t tell you I believed it, though.

To call it a clearing would be generous. There was a space ahead where the shadows were weighed less. I didn’t know if it I could make it, but I decided that was my destination. It would all end there. It was all I had. As I got closer, I saw a bench. It was old and worn, crafted from an ancient tree.

I plopped down harder than I meant to. The pain shooting up my backbone from my tailbone was the final insult. I was done. I found the end of myself. I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. No words were on my lips, I was well past anything resembling coherency. I interlocked my fingers behind my head as it sank lower, almost to my knees. The warmth of the salty tears streaming down my face didn’t do a thing to ease the shadowy chill.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was too far gone to jump. Whoever it was, he could do whatever he wanted. I was done. I felt him circle around and plop down beside me. The hand became an arm across my shoulders, attempting to comfort me. That arm became two, pulling me close. He held my head to his chest, like a father does a son who just lost his first pet. I could feel his tears on my neck as he gently whispered, “I’m here. I’ve got you. Now and forever, my beautiful son.”

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33

A Great Light

February 1, 2019February 1, 2019onebouchard

The people living in darkness have seen a great light…
Matthew 4:16

Of all the imagery used to describe the call of our Creator, my favorite is darkness to light. This motif moves me to look at where I’ve been and where I am while looking ahead to what is to come.

Imagine sitting in a windowless room. The door is shut and there are no obvious sources of light, although a murky twilight fills the room. A life lived here may feel complete. Having never glimpsed a sunrise or a starry night sky, you would never long for the beauty that only light can reveal. Surrounded by others in the same state, you would not necessarily be lonely, even if you feel incomplete. You never hear anyone describe trees or puppies or Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Everyone you know is in this darkness together, assuming this is all there is. On some level would you feel a nagging sense of discontent? Would your gut long for more? Would your soul cry out to be filled without even knowing what you lacked?

One day a stranger arrives. He describes a life that is at the edges of your comprehension. Unimaginable yet plausible. Although his tales of flowers, waterfalls, blue skies, and mountain peaks sound intriguing, they also sound bit fanciful. You wonder if it could be true…Is it possible to see in full the things that are currently only imperfectly imagined? Is there more in creation than what we realized?

This metaphor has limits but the spiritual analogy holds. Darkness leads to hopelessness and resignation. Not knowing what light looks like leads to searches for fulfillment in a thousand things that can never satisfy and were never intended to. Living in spiritual darkness, we seek relationships, material things, or indulgence to fill the void. As we repeatedly come up empty, we slide into desperation or denial. The only two obvious paths are either more vigilant efforts to fill ourselves up (i.e. try harder) or to settle into a state of reluctant acceptance (i.e. lowered expectations). We think our only options are to define our own meaning or deny that meaning exists.

It’s into this desperate hopelessness the glimmer of our Creator’s light shines. Perhaps a light comes on in the next room and leaks under the door of your dark room. A warm, inviting glow breaks through the dreariness saying “come and see.” Do you stay in the familiar darkness or move toward the light? In Matthew 4:6, Jesus quotes Isaiah 9, who is in turn speaking of Jesus. From the beginning, God has been reaching out to us. He calls us with and into a great light. The Prince of Peace brings the fullness of what God foreshadowed from the beginning.

The town of Itabi (eee-tah-bee) is a small and lush town nestled among rocky hills. Having lived there for years, most of the people I met are blind to the ever-present beauty. Through the eyes of an outsider, each overlook and slope full of precariously balanced rocks are simply spectacular. The perspective residents share are of being overlooked and forgotten by the world. Many feel resigned or even condemned to a life that is less than that of people in the “big city.” The good life is more than elusive, it’s unobtainable. We met many people who had turned to alcohol to numb the dreariness of mere existence. Many had been neglected or abused by those who had selfishly sought meaning in life through power, control, and indulgence. There were intricate, tangled webs of abuse cycles from which no one seemed to be able to break free. It was remarkably similar to how people are in my home town. Everywhere, people are seeking satisfaction and comfort in places that can only bring deeper darkness.

But life doesn’t have to be like that. We are called out of the darkness and into the marvelous light. Immanuel means “God with us.” God Himself comes to us, breaking into the darkness with light. The Creator enters Creation, stepping into the muck and darkness that can consume us. Through Him, the Gospel brings good news to all of us, everywhere. In Him we can find peace. We can find rest. We can find joy.

Two years ago God used our little mission team to bring this good news to a small town in Brazil. Lives were changed. Eternal destinies were secured. These experiences in Itabi continue to ripple throughout my mind as they echo throughout the world. God’s light is calling to every person in every people group everywhere in the world. The invitation is open.

Run

January 17, 2018November 18, 2020onebouchard

“Well, I guess that’s that. It’s over.” The bridge of our friendship was crossed and set aflame. Raw emotions and bruised feelings put us on opposite sides of a river that could no longer be crossed.

I’m no saint. Four decades of walking through life has left a graveyard of dead friendships behind me. Some are clearly because of my own recklessness with the hearts entrusted to my care. With some, perhaps I’m not so clearly the only one at fault. When we draw near to others, our broken pieces inevitably clash. Too often it’s too much to bear so we cross a bridge and light a match.

Some days the weight of those burned bridges is overwhelming. I gaze over my shoulder at the graveyard and grieve. It doesn’t matter who lit the match, the gap is now too wide to cross. Although the world throws around words like forgiveness and reconciliation, they are quickly followed by demands for pounds of flesh. Somebody must pay. It’s easier and more safe to stay on our own side of the river, wandering alone down the shore. The message we hear is clear…forgiveness is impossible. Roads that split never reconnect.

As I wander alone, I stumble into chapter 15 of the book of Luke. Although this story is about family, the principle carries through. Words were said. Or perhaps the words were left unsaid. “You’re dead to me,” was communicated. The paths diverged for the two who had cherished each other. One stood firm, the other wandered off. Both were without the other. The relationship was over. Forever.

The wanderer soon learned a profound truth…life alone was miserable. Other people saw him as merely a means to an end and walked away when his usefulness evaporated. He looked up from rock bottom, gazing past his shattered hopes and remembered the one who truly loved him. But that bridge was burned. The inferno consumed it quickly and it was gone forever. Even if he could find his way back, he could never repay all he owed. He would never deserve that love again.

Even so, he wandered back toward the one who had never left… Toward the one who had firmly stood at the gate…first watching the prodigal wander away with the father’s money and heart…then expectantly watching for any sign of his return. His faithfulness was rewarded when a lone figure emerged on the horizon. The familiar silhouette in the distance brought a flood of joy. Arms outstretched, he ran to reunite with his son. The one who had wandered had found the courage to return. The one who remained behind had faithfully anticipated the glorious day of his return.

Here we learn that bridges are a horrible metaphor for relationships. Our emotions and desires are not matches setting the world ablaze. True and treasured friendships are never burned beyond reconciliation. Like the parable of the prodigal son, humility and love on both sides of the river build new bridges on which we stand. Love says “you are more important than my pride.” Love is quick to forgive and runs toward reconciliation.

Take a look back at your own friendship graveyard. Can these dry bones live again? Jesus teaches us that as long as we’re living, reconciliation is possible. He models it for us. He stands firmly and unwavering upon the truth, arms open wide and ready for us to return. The past remains in the past. We step into our future pure and fully forgiven. We can run to Him, and then we can run to each other.

Who you need to run to? I bet those arms are open wide, waiting for you to take the first step. Run, and let the celebration begin.

Finding Life: Breathe In

March 27, 2017March 27, 2017onebouchard

“…then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” Gen 2:7

The words of a fictional scientist decades ago stuck with me. Long before Jeff Goldblum brought the character of Ian Malcolm to the silver screen, the phrase “life will find a way” leapt from the pages of a borrowed book and lodged in my cranium. Life will find a way. It doesn’t just apply to dinosaurs, but to you and I.

As life finds its way, how do we find it? How does this general inevitability become personal and passionate?

Let’s take a step back. For those of us who are radical enough to believe that in the beginning God created, every object in this universe exists for a purpose. That purpose has more depth and richness than our textbooks present. For example, rain is much more than the arrows drawn in an Earth Science textbook can convey. Sunset is more than masses in motion and energy interfering with molecules in the atmosphere. You and I both know it at a level ingrained deep in whatever make us “us.” Afternoon summer showers and quiet evenings watching the sun fade can be profound. We experience a touch of the divine. That’s where we find life…In our creator, the source of it all.

Let’s step forward now. Like the clouds at sunset, you and I are also much more than simply molecules in motion. To think we are merely a complex set of chemical reactions responding to stimuli is to miss the profound purpose our lives are and can be. It diminishes our significance and misses our own intersection with the divine and the possibility of knowing Him. Just like the earth, birds, and the trees, our lives were created to point to the one who made us all.

In the beginning, God breathed life into mankind. Man knew the creator personally and intimately. We knew our purpose and delighted in it. Then we turned from it. Now we seek purpose and fulfillment everywhere but Him. Jobs, relationships, art, entertainment, diversions, education, and a myriad of other pursuits. All fall short of fully filling us, because all fall short of what we were created to be filled by.

Let that sink in. Breathe in deeply. Exhale slowly. Whatever you’ve thought about God in the past, consider this now…He created you. Lovingly. He cherishes you. The One who splattered the Milky Way across the night sky also knit you together. His creativity shines through you when you are grounded in Him. His plans for us are always more incredible than our plans for ourselves. He sees in full what we only see in part, and He is the architect, artist, and engine for it all. When we return to Him, we learn that He freely gives. We find purpose, creativity, and meaning. We find life.

Breathe in. Breathe in and live.

This post is the first of a #5ForFive challenge by the Rev1211 community. This year, the group theme is “breathe,” and my theme is “Finding Life.”

Dishonor

August 23, 2016August 30, 2016onebouchard

Stories fascinate me. When my boys were younger, I’d make up new ones for them every day. Bedtimes found us following the adventures of a possum named “Worm” and a cat named “Porcupine.” There were mighty battles between our dog Pete and the geese of doom (who hatched their evil schemes at the lake down the street). Dragons, treasure, and adventure filled the night.

Stories can be a lot of fun. When stories change lives, though, something powerful happens. The most powerful stories in the universe are of redemption. Nothing resonates with our soul quite like a tale of absolution.

Dishonor is an incredible story of rescue and redemption. It tells the true story of David Mike, a soldier who became a deserter. Drug abuse left him on the run. This compelling narrative talks about capture, escape, recapture, and ultimate redemption.

Amid the almost unbelievable ups and down of this crazy adventure, we see much more than just story of chaos, confusion, and confinement. There are powerful moments like the up and down court martial where powerful twists and turns occur. Then he faces decades in prison. The reader is right there with him.

Running from the military police was terrifying. Standing in front of a judge during court martial was humbling. Those stories pale in comparison to what happened once the door was shut and this former soldier began to view the world through iron bars.

How do you find hope when a riot breaks out in prison? What kind of peace can you find when most of the rest of your life will be spent behind bars? Each day is a fight for survival. Each moment brings temptation. In a world where most decisions are made for you, every choice becomes that much more important.

David Mike’s story is one of the most compelling narratives I’ve read since Unbroken. And it’s all true. I found myself ducking in the ditches with Mike as he evaded capture. My lip quivered as his dad walked into the courtroom. Hope faded when those doors slammed shut. And then there was light. Redemption. New hope led to new life.

I’ve had the privilege of not only reading this incredible book, but also of meeting the author in person. Not only is this one of the best redemption stories to publish this year, the man behind the story is just as authentic, inspiring, and full of hope as the words on the pages of this book. This book is the real deal, through and through.

This is the first book review I’ve publicly posted in almost 20 years. David Mike’s incredible book will release on August 30, 2016. Much of the story has been shared on his blog (here). That blog is where I first became enthralled in the story. He posted one story per week for almost two years. I began anticipating Tuesday mornings because I knew the next installment would be waiting for me when I woke up in the morning. And now, it’s a book. This thrills me so much. If ever there were a story that deserved to be published, it’s this one. It has been a joy to follow David Mike‘s journey beyond the prison walls as he has fought to publish this book. His dedication to excellence and his persistence in the process ensure that this will be something truly special. Please consider purchasing this book on 8/30 and watch it skyrocket up the charts. If you can’t buy it that Tuesday, add it to your wishlist and get it soon!

Missing You

August 15, 2016August 14, 2016onebouchard

Just like autumn, this season cycles by regularly. Missing you.

I remember the journey…the months our paths crossed. I tried so hard to make it work. We all did.

But I was missing you. Even though I tried to love without expectation…to fully accept who you are and where you were at…I see now the impossibility. I did have expectations. I tried so hard to love with my whole heart…to pray with my whole spirit…to cling to you with all I had.

I see it now…we didn’t meet you where you were. We were missing you. We tried to meet the needs we perceived, which were different than the needs you actually had. Although we thought we were walking together down the same path, our journeys never really intersected did they? Were we one family? In my heart we were. And we continue to be. But I was missing you.

To some degree, maybe I was enamored by the potential of you. The potential of us. God had given me the daughter I had longed for but never knew I wanted. With my eyes wide open, I recognized your past, faults, and personal limitations and didn’t care about any of it. I accepted you exactly as you were. As much as I hated the abandonment and hurt you had suffered, I thanked God it led you to us. To me. Together, I knew you could finding healing. You could recover. And then you could thrive. That’s what I expected. But I was missing you.

You didn’t need transformation. You weren’t after recovery. You didn’t want a forever family. You never asked us to be one. And yet we tried to be that for you. You aren’t to blame. We were simply missing you. We missed who you really were. We missed getting to know the real person inside the young woman trying to survive. I didn’t understand that your life experiences did not prepare you for the life we threw you into. You had no context for what we offered. And yet we expected you to embrace us. We expected you to appreciate us. We expected you to love us. We expected you to try. But we were missing you.

That you managed to stick with us so long is a testament to your persistence. Or maybe it’s your stubbornness. The life we made for you was a gilded cage, though. It had peace, but you don’t crave peace. It had space, but you don’t need space. It had stability, but you’ve never known stability. It had us, but you’ve never needed us

This isn’t a right or wrong thing. You are who you are, as am I. I still treasure your heart. I still accept you as you are. The jagged and broken pieces of me tear against yours. I grieve because I lost you. And I grieve because I lost the potential of you. And I grieve because I failed to see the real you, and that is a true tragedy.

Now, just like then, I am missing you.

May 24, 2016May 23, 2016onebouchard

The past can be a weight…the magnitude of the tragedy overwhelming and all-consuming. Every time your eyes close, you see their faces. Sons taken too soon. The anger rises anew. Lost jobs are insignificant compared to the lost loved ones. Lost freedom. But you go on.

I met him on a trip. He was hired to do construction. We were building a church. We were also building THE church.

North and South Americans stacked concrete blocks, threw cement, painted walls, and tiled a roof. Shoulder to shoulder, we joyfully toiled from sunrise to sunset until everyone was exhausted. Christians and non-Christians alike, simply working with and loving each other.

Each day on the long walk home, he would pick up scrap wood and construction debris. Someday…eventually…his house would have real walls. A roof. Someday.

But God… God is a rescuer. He is a redeemer.

“…the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners” Isaiah 61:1

Late in the week a decision was made. A decision for Christ. And life became new. Restored. Redeemed. The chains shackling him to the pain of the past were broken.

Embraced by both the savior and His church, something special was found. Forgiveness. Community. Reconciliation. Hope. Life.

His house now has a roof. And walls. His precious family is safer than they have been in years. Because of a church? Because of THE church? Because of the redeemer! Jesus reached out through the obedient workers. The light of Jesus was shining through them all week. It drew him. It gave him a new hope and a new community. And the trajectory of six precious lives changed for eternity.

This post originally appeared in October, 2013. This is one of my most well-known photographs and one of my most treasured stories. The original events took place in Niteroi, just outside of Porto Alegre, Brazil. It was a privilege to be a witness to these events and an honor to capture a few moments with my camera and words. We are leaving for another mission trip to Brazil soon. As I reflect on all God has done and anticipate what He has in store, I decided to share this particular story again.