God says all the big words in our lives. Still, it is ofttimes the little words that make the Big Word sing. Max Lucado is a rare and welcome talent who is dedicated to the Word made flesh, but is also a spellbinding spinner of such smaller words as may ornament God's Word.
I first discovered Lucado when I casually took No Wonder They Call Him the Savior off a bookstore shelf. Nothing was casual after his first line hooked my eye. Lucado has become popular for two reasons: he reveres Christ, and he loves the world around him. This double love binds our minds and beckons us to follow closely to see where his paragraphs may lead.
It is because Max Lucado loves his Lord that he turns from the muddlesome and thumbworn language so common in the church. To Lucado, Jesus is no ordinary noun to be theologized into dullness. Rather, all holy relationships are glorious, and only the best, most creative English is worthy. So he weaves anew the Shroud of Turin, leaving us no doubt that this splendid cloth has touched the body of our Lord and has been forever marked by the imprimatur of Lucado's reverence. Where no ordinary words will serve, here's how he bids us know the Christ:
"Sacred delight derives from stubborn joy," he exults.
" If you have time to read this chapter, you probably don't need to," he calls to those who think they're too busy for the spiritual disciplines.
On and on his wisdom flows: "Show a man his failures without Jesus, and the result will be found in the roadside gutter. Give a man religion without reminding him of his filth, and the result will be arrogance in a three-piece suit."
He counsels the arrogant that facing Christ is like entering the church of the nativity: "The door is so low, you can't go in standing up."
He rebukes the bitter: "Hatred is the rabid dog that turns on its owner The very word grudge starts with . . . G R R R . . . a growl!"
This book introduces the Beatitudes, which introduce the Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes fly at us, but in the simple metaphors of ordinary life. So you'll meet Christ even as you meet the Exxon Valdez that dark March night in 1989 , when she spilled her crude venom on Bligh Reef in Alaska. The Christ of communion will come to you as you meet Gayaney Petroysan, an Armenian four years old who begged her mother's blood to live. And any number of great Bible heroes come and go in this book to make real the introduction to Jesus' great Sermon on the Mount.
Max and I are friends. I may have overpressed him to be my friend, and I will admit the friendship was originally my idea. But, I confess, I wanted to know Christ as Max does. I wanted to feel the April wind that breathed upon the cross, as he does. I wanted to fall like Thomas before Christ and cry, "My Lord and my God!" as he does. I needed Max to give me lessons on obedience and spiritual need.
Read this book in a quiet place and you may feel a wounded hand fall lightly on your shoulder. Be not afraid of the nearness you will feel to Christ, but go on and walk his paragraphs. Then you will know by experience that Lucado travels the high country of the Galilee of the heart.
CALVIN MILLER