Go Rebuild My Temple

2012-02-15T18:06:00.000-05:00

“My Dad said you came from the wrong side of the tracks.” Years later, he answered the question I never asked, never considered asking. I had wondered why my best friend from First Grade kept running away from me at recess in Second Grade. He wouldn't play with me any more. I never knew why. I didn't know I was poor or that it made me different. All I wanted to do was play with the boy who used to be my friend.

A wound can be just a wound; smooth skin parted; a bleeding crease that becomes a scar. Or it can be a furrow in fertile soil for Kingdom seed. For me, it's been both.

I've heard it said that Jesus has a preference for the poor. My own opinion is that He loves all equally, but spends His time where He's most wanted. The poor and oppressed know they have need, and are more prone to welcome help. The comfortable often forget. Though I'm blessed in many ways, I can not forget being lonely and rejected. And that, too, has become a blessing. I need and welcome Him.

What, then, is God's blessing? Is it being comfortable in life, an absence of need? Or is God's blessing a profound awareness of need? If “blessing” removes a sense of absolute dependence on God, is it blessing at all?

Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.'' He also said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” It seems that need is the cost of the ticket, the preliminary requirement for the flight to another Kingdom. It doesn't guarantee permission for the flight, but it's the first step of the journey. Changing the metaphor, it's the good soil. From here, the Gospel, the Good News of the Kingdom, can take root.

What if being rejected by my friend's father were a gift from God? Would I have hungered for real acceptance if I hadn't experienced being innately inadequate? What if my deepest pain were intended to be I my greatest gain? And if my preconception about God's blessing is not accurate, what else can be called into question?

And what if our weakness were His strength? What if the servant were counted greater than the gifted leader? What if our treatment of the “least of these,” the most unimportant, were the most important to Him? What if dying to self were the prerequisite for being alive to Him? And what if being alive to Him, and following Him with abandon opened the abundant life to us, the life overflowing with everything that most satisfies?

What if Jesus meant all the things He said Himself and through His servants? And what if we based our lives on His words instead of our desires; and built our churches on His principles instead of our doctrines? What if we quit “seasoning” the Gospel with our perspectives, thinking we make it more palatable and simply presented God's message as accurately as possible?

I believe we'd be the Church; the fullness of Him Who fills all in all. No longer would we be scorned for being self-seeking; we would be persecuted for being God-seeking. And the Word of God would be living and active in our midst; no longer anemic, seemingly without power because it was dependent on our power of presentation instead of His power. I believe.

2011-10-02T20:31:00.001-04:00

2011-10-02T20:16:00.005-04:00

Great events often turn on seemingly inconsequential ones. A sixty year marriage is born from a chance meeting. A career emerges from a summer job. A failure takes a break from his duties because he's curious, and the world is changed.

Moses looms large in the history of God's people. We read of his faith, obedience, accomplishments and lapses, but may overlook some of the details of how it began. We perhaps know that his mother put him in a tar covered basket into the Nile to protect him from Pharoah's decree. Then Pharaoh's own daughter happened to see him floating in the weeds, he was snatched from the Nile, and then raised in Pharoah's house. Years later, without introduction, he killed an Egyptian while trying help a fellow Hebrew, and then had to flee for his life. From there, we tend to jump to his encounter with God at the burning bush, as the larger-than-life Moses was called to duty. The reality was quite different. Moses obviously felt he was supposed to help his countrymen. He failed to give useful help, failed to win their respect, and failed to master his fear. He fled, found sanctuary, and then worked for forty years watching another man's herds. The man raised to royalty spent a lifetime doing menial work, exiled from home, heritage, and God.

Then one day, something unusal happened. Moses was working, and he saw a burning bush. We know it was unusual, because we know that God was there. But initially to Moses, it didn't necessarily mean anything more than a lightning strike, or a fire left unattended—unsual but not unique. But Moses was curious. He gave it more than a passing glance. He was not too preoccupied with his duties to be interested. He saw that the bush was burning, but not buring up. He decided to go closer.

. "When the LORD saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, "Moses! Moses" And Moses said, "Here I am."

God did not speak until Moses stopped to look. He, and all of creation, waited to see if a man would be interested, pay attention, and turn from his path. God's whole plan for saving His people depended on a never-been-has-been having a spark of curiosity.

In simpler times, parents taught their children to ”Stop, Look, and Listen” before crossing a railroad tracks. Perhaps our Father is still trying to teach His children to do the same—not for a train bound to tracks, but for the train of His royal robe that fills His temple. Perhaps God is waiting to see if you will look at what He is doing, waiting to speak. Perhaps.

2011-07-07T14:00:00.001-04:00

LISTEN!

I've got a challenge for you. Wherever you are right now, whatever you're doing, listen. Identify every single sound that you hear. Every cricket, every bird, every car, every machine, every voice, every background noise. How many sounds had you filtered out? To what had you paid no attention?

I love the outdoors, especially forests. It renews me to spend time there, to be away from the cacophony of everyday noise, to hear what God has made instead of what we have. At first the quiet seems overwhelming—I've found that it takes me time to acclimate. In the first hours, I have to work to listen and see. I mentally rush as if I'm late on my commute to work, focused on a goal. I must listen to the layers of the sounds of solitude. The wind rustles the trees, an insect flies by, a bird sings, a deer snorts, a brook babbles—a thousand thousand small sounds surround me. The quiet place was not quiet at all. By the second day, my ears have awakened. By the third, it's normal to hear again.

I've got a more important challenge for you. What is God quietly speaking, what is every word? Quiet yourself to hear the still, small voice. It can't be adequately done in an hour or two...

What if God is speaking right now and no one is poised to listen? What if He is pouring out wisdom like rain, giving direction in how to follow Him in these days, and we are in our homes watching YouTube videos, not even remotely hearing the gentle patter of grace falling like rain outside our doors? What if His creation is filled with His voice and all that we hear is the sound of the things we have made?

It's always important to listen. But there are times when it's literally crucial. The honk as you step off the curb without looking; the heaven sent encouragement or admonition at exactly the right moment; the discouragement filling a friend's voice, telling you to cancel plans and spend time with him now; the inexplicable sense that a plan is very right or entirely wrong in spite of evidence to the contrary....

Perhaps its that kind of time. I believe it is.

He awakens Me morning by morning, He awakens My ear to listen as a disciple. The Lord GOD has opened My ear; (Isaiah 50)

The secret of the LORD is for those who fear Him...(Psalms 25)

2011-05-17T21:47:00.001-04:00

I recently heard a story about a small local church that, after years of renting space from another church, bought their own building. They couldn't afford a “good” building in a “good” neighborhood, but they were glad and grateful, especially since they had been treated as renters rather than brothers and sisters. But not long afterward, an out-of-control truck crashed into their new meeting place. This started a sad process with insurance and building inspectors. Hidden structural defects were revealed and the insurance provider found a loophole for not covering all the damage. The inspector would not certify the building for use without major repairs. The congregation had no possible way to pay for those. Having a building is essential for growth, isn't it? It's foundational to how we think about church. What would you have done?

Angry words and lawsuits come to mind. That's the American way, isn't it? But it wasn't theirs. They consulted with the seller, and came up with a remarkable plan. They turned over the insurance settlement to the seller, and walked away, losing considerable money in the process. It was no longer possible to have their own meeting place, honoring Christ would allow no less. They abandoned the structure to save something much more important. Right priorities built on truth led to right, but painful, actions.

My own life experiences have included some truck wrecks. I've found the Body of Christ, The Church, to be “the fullness of Him who fills all in all” as the scriptures proclaim. But I've also often found the outward structure to have hidden damage that renders it unfit for use—unrepairable, and suitable only for abandoning. Indeed, I've fallen through “rotted” floors that looked solid, and sustained great hurt. Some ways of acting, thinking, and governing ourselves are so infected with rot that no repair project is possible.

To be clear, “church-hopping” is the opposite of what I'm trying to describe. We leave behind ways thinking and of doing things rather than leaving people. Intense loyalty to our spiritual family is one of the foundations of our faith. But just as a house, no matter how well built, eventually needs major repair or even replacement, so any human made structure decays. My family, both natural and spiritual, is worth tremendous sacrifice. My house's only real value is as a place for my family. Our means and methods of serving God are, at best, well intentioned human efforts of implementing eternal, unchanging truth that appropriately vary with time and culture. Time has passed and the culture is almost unrecognizable, and soon to become more so. Equally important, we often mistake cultural values, such as democracy and patriotism and prosperity, for Biblical values, and import them without question into our thinking and actions.

Our manner of structuring ourselves is (or should be) first based on scriptural principles. We then look for appropriate ways to implement those within a culture. Buildings with steeples and men with ties are examples of methods that seemed "right" in the first half of the 20th century but are not important to many anymore. We also find ways to adjust to our relationship with the government and the level of prosperity we enjoy. Beginning in Jerusalem and Rome, the Church has often lived with oppression, meeting in secret, while struggling to have sufficient food and shelter. We, however, have very different expectations. Much of our manner of service is based on the assumptions of prosperity and our county's blessing on our endeavors. We have also built parts of the Church with the world's presumptions, equating big with blessed, polished with pleasing God. What will happen if these assumptions are no longer valid?

Imagine. Churches large and small, whose focus has been on buildings rather than ministry, service, and worship, unable to sustain debt payments, closing en-mass in a long economic downturn. Congregations walking away from “under water” mortgages joining home owners who have done the same thing. Derelict buildings, formerly dedicated to the gathering of God's people, added to the already abandoned factories and shopping centers.

Imagine. Governments, strapped for cash, removing tax deductions for church contributions. Governments, strapped for truth, regulating the content of God's message. Governments, strapped for integrity, determining that committed followers of Christ need to be committed to appropriate institutions of detention to eliminate the dissenting voices.

Imagine. The Church, in adversity, immovable, unshakable, becoming stronger in worship and conviction. The Church, in poverty, giving more. The Church, in a hopeless world, extending the hope of glory more than ever before. Imagine that we are a part of that Church because we've followed the example of that small church, making right priorities built on truth rather then assumptions.

But each one should be careful how he builds. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work. 14 If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple. (1 Corinthians 3)

2011-01-22T08:23:00.004-05:00

Does love smell like candles and roses or pot roasts and potatoes? Or perhaps, something quite different?

The stench of urine was strong as I opened the office door--intense, out of place, as if I were entering a primitive privy. I followed the odor to its source; an early teen sitting on her father’s lap. She was content, secure. He was oblivious, carrying on a conversation with another person while gently holding his daughter. She looked briefly at me and returned to her own world. He interrupted himself and greeted me. And I remembered what he had told me on another day.

A serious health crisis at birth had left her without the hope of ever being normal physically or mentally. Diapers were the way of life and midnight hospital runs were not uncommon. He spoke, surprisingly without embarrassment, of having to care for her very private needs as adolescence changed her body from a child’s to a young woman’s. He loved her, cared for her, and thoroughly enjoyed her as she was. I had thought him to be a great father and now I knew it to be true.

That chance encounter has troubled me. I know what it implies and I don’t like it. It’s as if Jesus had spoken a parable that turned everything upside down, as He often did in the Gospels: the outcast is the friend; the last is the first; the pauper is in paradise while the rich man is in Hell. The human parable seems clear: I am the girl who reeks of urine. I am the one who can offer nothing and costs everything. I am the one who should be an embarrassment, but am cared for and loved. And respected—not for what I do, but for who I am—a child of the Father.

I know of only one verse that speaks of “rights” specifically given without respect to a position of responsibility. Dignity and value are strongly implied for all because we are made in the image of God. The poor, the orphan, the widow, and the prisoner deserve our compassion and care, but do not have a “right” to it. We are commanded to treat them well and to not do so angers God. And in the Bible, there is no right of free speech, or to assemble, or to bear arms. There is a much more important one…

Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—(John 1:12)

I thought I had many rights, but I really have only one. Scholars can write learned books about it, preachers can speak about it. But a disabled girl and her daddy explained it to me. I have the right to become a child of God, to be loved by Him and to give what love I can in return—however flawed it is.

In this parable, love smelled like urine. It looked like a daddy who didn’t choose to notice. It felt like security and peace in one who was unable to deal with any of life’s complexities. The reality of being a child of God: Unexpected. Disturbing. My highest privilege, my only right.

2010-12-30T17:21:00.004-05:00

As a man, I judge stores that sell women’s clothing very differently than my wife and daughters. In fact, much of what’s important to them is incomprehensible to me. All I can do is remember what they’ve previously liked and do my best to give my full attention to them while I wait—first while they choose and then while they try-on. I also carry items they want to take to the dressing room. Since I don’t understand their process, my judgments are based on my needs. First, are the aisles wide enough for me to comfortably carry six items without knocking down stock? Few past that test. Second, is the store organized the way a man thinks? In other words, are all the blouses in one area or are they scattered, making you look at a whole lot more stuff than you wanted? Most fail this test. And finally, the most important thing to consider when choosing a women’s store: Are there comfortable chairs to sit in while you wait for clothes to be tried on? Proximity to the changing room is also very good. It must be close enough for questions but far enough away to avoid embarrassing encounters with other store patrons. (TVs tuned to sports or action movies would be great, but that is only a dream!) Whether my criteria is met or not, my job is to be attentive and patient, and I find it hard if I’m uncomfortable or bored.

As a young man, I was unaware of the importance of waiting and waiting well. No one took me aside and told me the results of being impatient and that shopping excursions were much more important than the clothes carried home. And I remember no sermon titled, “Wait Patiently for God.” Yet it’s one of the reoccurring themes of the Bible. As I’ve exhausted my wisdom and initiative in an area of personal need, I’ve realized that’s it time for me to wait. If I don’t know what to do or how to do it, any action I take is more likely to take me away from God than towards Him.

I’ve been thinking about Biblical examples of waiting. At the time of Jesus’ birth, one of the less prominent figures was Simeon, an old man to whom God had revealed that death would not come until he had seen the Messiah. Simeon may have waited fifty years or short time, but was described as “waiting for the consolation of Israel.” And he waited until the Spirit moved him to go to the temple, at exactly the right time to meet the baby Jesus.

"Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord's Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required…" (Luke 2:25-27)

How do you wait for God? What is the balance between diligence, which the Bible also commands, and waiting for God and resting in His Promises? Simeon apparently got it right, although no mention is made of how comfortable he was as he waited.

It seems to come down to doing what I “should” instead of doing what I “could.” Simeon could have run all over Jerusalem, checking every baby that was born. Instead, he waited for that “should” moment—that inner sense of “Now!” Abraham, another man given a profound promise—this time for son—waited for a long time, grew impatient, and fathered the wrong son with the wrong woman at the wrong time. He did what he could do with disastrous results.

Perhaps that was not dissimilar to the results of being an impatient shopper while I accompany my ladies… impatience and inappropriate initiative gives ruinous results. Their process of looking and choosing is incomprehensible to me, as is God’s process. I’m along for the journey and have an important part to play, but the boundaries are distinct. I make suggestions but not demands. I follow and don’t lead. I do what I’m asked to do, and when initiating beyond that, I watch for feedback and quickly abandon what is not well received. I like the results but not the process. And I wait as patiently and comfortably as I can.

Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. (Psalms 27:14)

2010-12-25T14:51:00.003-05:00

The Rescuer's Footfalls

On the path to journey's end,
The thoroughfare became a thicket--
Hopelessly tangled, helplessly trapped.

The silver sunshine escapes,
her warmth retreats from my touch,
and cold crawls in.

Gently gyrating, floating flakes
turned to a plummeting pumice,
harshly scrubbing life away.

Shelter sought but not found--
Searching, seeking. Unresolved,
except the broken branches of hope denied.

Huddled in the hovel of desperate desolation,
Winter's frigid fingers grasped
our frostbitten souls without solace.

Hope's flow ebbing, now frozen fast.
Doomed to die in cold despair
for no rescuer's footfalls are coming.

Listen! A child, the baby of Bethlehem
leaves the warm womb of heaven
for winter's wasteland where we lived in death.

Christmas, in the hard heart of winter,
is the soft sound of hope rising,
of the Rescuer's footfalls lighting.

2010-12-16T13:04:00.002-05:00

“What’s in a name?” If Shakespeare (sounds very masculine and strong if you think about it) had been named Shakey-speare instead he might not have written about roses smelling sweet regardless of what they were called. Names can deeply affect how others view us and how we see ourselves. Names from the “wrong” nationality, suggesting the “wrong” gender, or reminiscent of body parts or functions have long been used to torment and ridicule. I still go by “F.” for my middle name. My grandfather, from whom that name comes, hated it and went by a derivative. And unbelievably, he named his son, my uncle, with the same exact name, and he wouldn’t go by it either. So my parents passed on that same name to me.

In Biblical times, names often were even more important because they were meant to not just to identify you, but also to describe you. For example, the patriarch Isaac had twin sons. The first borne was named Esau, meaning “hairy,” because of how he looked when born. The second was born holding onto Esau’s heel and so was named Jacob, meaning “heel holder” or “supplanter.” Supplanter is a rather old fashioned word meaning to take what is another’s by force or deceit. Both names proved to be accurate. Years later, Jacob deceived his blind father into believing he was Esau by pretending to be hairy so he could receive the parental blessing reserved for the first born.

Jacob continued to be true to his name until he had an encounter with God. En route to an attempt at reconciliation with Esau, Jacob sent messengers ahead and found out that Esau was coming with a small army. Jacob offered gifts (the deceiver remembered his deception and thought a bribe would help) of flocks and herds, sent his family away to safety, and then prayed.

In response, an angel showed up, not to console or help, but to fight. And they fought all night. Jacob finally walked away wounded, his hip out of joint. But he also came away with a new name, Israel, given to him by God. Israel means “God contends,” “God prevails,” or “struggles with God.” He was transformed from Jacob, the deceiver, to “God wins.” We don’t find out who we really are until we struggle with God, fight with Him without letting go, and come away limping.
If I were God and renamed a person, I would always use the new name from that point on. In fact, He does sometimes do that. Abram gives way to Abraham; Sarai to Sarah; but Jacob and his descendants are referred to as both Jacob and Israel. The names are often even used in the same verse, almost as if God were speaking of two different men. Perhaps He was two different men. I know I am. My old nature connives, contends, and cajoles to get what I want. I’m often like Jacob, who was promised blessing by God, but who took it wrongly from his brother through trickery and deceit. I’m also like Israel. I’ve fought with God, wouldn’t let go-- desperately wanting to be blessed--, and came away wounded. Like him, my badge of honor is the wound I received while struggling with Him. My weakness is achieved through His strength; His strength perceived through my weakness.

My name is Jacob. I’m a struggling sinner, without hope of ever being better. My name also is Israel. I’m a son of God, recipient of all His promises. But I choose to be called Israel. It's the new name my Father gave me.

What’s your name?

…To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it. (Rev 2:17)

2010-12-07T12:42:00.003-05:00

“You can’t get there from here.” It seemed obvious as I saw the missing bridge behind the bold signs proclaiming “ROAD CLOSED.” I had gone past the “DETOUR” signs, as I usually do. Detours always go miles out of the way (or so I believe). Sometimes, the road isn’t “really” closed—meaning I can get through even though I’m not supposed to. But most of the time, I find side roads that I hope will save me miles. It’s been claimed that I drive through farmer’s fields rather than take the detour. Perhaps that’s not far from the truth.

I’ve taken that same attitude into my spiritual life. I know where I want to go. I sometimes even believe I know where God wants me to go. Getting there the fastest way possible is my goal. My shortcuts end up long-cuts. My way leaves me mired in the muck of a farmer’s field. My inability to use hard work and perseverance to achieve godly goals and destinations has led me to ask, “How do I get there from here?”

I’ve found myself drawn to the story of the Exodus. It's the incredible recounting of God taking an entire nation from slavery, setting them free, leading them through the wilderness, and finally taking their descendants to a promised land. The Lord said to Pharaoh, “Set my people free so that they can serve and worship Me!”

And God did it through His means. I’ve pondered that process, hoping to understand how I can go there also. But my spiritual GPS shows I’m back where I started. My destination is the same as the Israelites: that place where I have the freedom to serve Him with abandon, empowered by the provision, promises, and Presence of God. That generation couldn’t make it. Their inability to trust and obey became a washed out bridge in their path. And no detour was available. In a sense, you really still can’t get there from here. The “old” me, the “old” you, can’t go into the Promised Land. The Israelites were slaves, the sons of slaves, and the grandsons of slaves. In spite of all God had done for them, they were unable to respond to Him with faith and hope. God led them into the wilderness because it would either kill their slave mentality or their bodies. They could not go in as slaves, they had to go in as sons. Only two, Caleb and Joshua, of that generation really left the spirit of slavery behind. Listen to how the Lord describes Caleb:

“But My servant Caleb, because he has had a different spirit (emphasis mine) and has followed Me fully, I will bring into the land which he entered, and his descendants shall take possession of it….” (Numbers 14:24)

The Exodus shows us how God saves a people, first from slavery and then from themselves. He then takes them to a place where they are free to serve Him. In the Exodus story, this geographic place that God alone was to rule was called the Promised Land. In the New Testament, it is a spiritual place that Jesus calls “the Kingdom.” Now Jesus saves individuals, first from sin and Satan, and then from themselves. He says to the seeker: “...unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God… That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” Paul responds: “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” and "I have been crucified with Christ ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me…”.

Until recently, I’d spiritualized this concept, thinking that it was simply stating that the only way to receive eternal life is through God’s gift. That’s true, but there’s another layer of truth. No act of mine can earn me eternal life and no effort of my old nature can accomplish God’s good. I can’t go to heaven unless I die physically, and I can’t cross the boundary into the Kingdom now unless that old nature dies in the wilderness.

In Evangelical Christianity, we often over emphasize events and de-emphasize process. The act of rightly responding to Jesus allows God’s grace to release me from slavery to the consequences of sin, but it doesn’t usually immediately cause me to stop thinking and acting like a slave. There is a process, a wilderness to walk through. We’re commanded to work out our salvation. I’ll paraphrase that. “Over the course of your life, work salvation into every aspect of life, as yeast is kneaded into every part of the dough.”

I’ve depended on God for forgiveness. Now it’s time to trust Him as He leads me from slavery to sonship, from self-rule to Spirit led, from the wilderness to His Kingdom. I can’t get there from here. But He can take me there.

2010-11-30T14:33:00.002-05:00

What's your favorite holiday movie? Here's a few to consider: “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” ( the 60's cartoon or the 2000 Jim Carrey movie); “Its a Wonderful Life” (those in my family either love it or are totally bored); “A Christmas Carol” (But which one--the 1951 version with Alistar Sims—personal favorite; the 1984 with George C. Scott; the 1999 with Patrick Stewart; the 2009 with Jim Carrey; updates like “Scrooged” with Bill Murray; or cartoons like Mickey and Muppets); “A Christmas Story”(“You'll shoot your eye out!”)? “Frosty the Snowman,” (60's cartoon with Burl Ives); or maybe “Home Alone” (fun take on our childhood nightmare of being left behind). For me, some of these movies are part of my holiday tradition. I don't feel in the mood for Christmas until I've had my "fix." Whether your tradition comes from a century's old heritage or is simply a comfortable habit, it is part of the fabric of your life.

In another movie, “Fiddler on the Roof,” the main character, Tevye, a Jewish man struggling to adapt to a changing world in Russia in the early 20th century, says, “And because of our traditions, every one of us knows who he is, and what God expects him to do.” Inherited ways of approaching life give cohesiveness to families and society but also can stifle differences, whether they're helpful or not. A balance is obviously necessary. A world without tradition is like a world without language and a world with overpowering tradition is a place with language but without the freedom to speak. Each extreme leads to life without communication between generations.

For example, many of my age rejected traditional worship because it seemed devoid of real life and our elders rejected our contemporary songs as lacking substance. In the resulting “worship wars,” the two camps became competing Towers of Babel, each trying to reach the heavens while hurling invectives at the other. Obviously we did not understand the words of the songs being sung nor each other. Now many of the current generation reject contemporary worship because it is disconnected from the heritage of countless believers who've gone before us. The new tradition of no tradition is now the old tradition to reject.

Tevye spoke of life without tradition being as difficult as being a fiddler on a roof. It's impossible to maintain your balance. Things that God revealed in the past and the means that our ancestors used to implement obedience to Him are meant to be a hand reaching out to us, to steady us, to keep us from falling. But how do we walk in the present while holding hands with the past? As I write this, it's late November and I'm beginning to think of Christmas. My work schedule and changes in my season of life mandate that some of my cherished ways of celebrating God's gifts must change. My traditions have to evolve, but the heart of the holidays doesn't change.

Tradition and language are shorthand for objects and actions and responses—but are not those things in themselves. I must decide whether my way of celebrating or the things celebrated are most important. I will find new ways to celebrate old holidays while taking care to incorporate all that's been given to me in a new day. The fingers of the hand of tradition that don't adapt becomes the bars of a prison as it reaches out to us. I become caged in a 'past-present' by memories—real and imagined.

That seems to be what's happened to us as a culture. We live imprisoned, disconnected from our heritage and we have only a memory of someone else's memory of what the holidays are meant to accomplish. After a few generations, it becomes like a slave's inherited stores of being free in a distant land. Those memories inspire vague good feelings (or incredible dispair) , but are only thinly connected to reality and truth. We roast a turkey for gathered family and friends, but can't say why. We give gifts, but have no knowledge of the Gift given us. “White Christmas” is as meaningful as a Christmas carol of God born among us. The result is celebrations with nothing to celebrate, language with nothing to say, and traditions in a vacuum, without meaning. Football, parades, giving gifts without giving ourselves, songs about reindeer and snowmen, and watching movies about others celebrating the holidays instead of celebrating them ourselves are the result.

Long ago, as the Lord was in process of saving the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, He commanded them to have a yearly celebration called the Passover. He specified what was to be done and even food to be eaten. He then demanded both obedience in celebrating as He commanded, and then in passing on both the tradition and reason from one generation to another: Listen to His words:
“When you enter the land that the LORD will give you as he promised, observe this ceremony. And when your children ask you, 'What does this ceremony mean to you?' then tell them, 'It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.' " (Exodus 12:25-27)

The Lord did not command a Christmas celebration as He did the Passover, but the birth of God is worthy of a holiday. An event 2000 years ago impacts our lives. Those who have honored His birth over the centuries have left us with ways of doing that have been meaningful to them. Use them, add to them, and adapt them to a new millennium. They are a means of communicating God's grace to us and to those who will come after. Think, plan ahead--as you decorate, make cookies, give gifts, put up a tree, watch movies, sing songs, gather with family, worship, and continue or create traditions--of what you will say when asked, "What does this ceremony mean to you?"

I'll be the first. What does Christmas mean to you?

2010-10-31T10:42:00.001-04:00

Should I move or get a new key?

Recently, I noticed that my house key was bent. A few months ago, I had noticed that my car key was bent and did nothing. It broke off in the trunk lock and is still there. Even though I can be a bit slow on the uptake, immediately upon noticing the worn key, I thought of replacing it. The thought of ruining a lock and not being able to get into my house motivated me.

I soon took in my bent key in to get it replaced. The salesperson was very knowledgeable about locks and hardware. He took one look at the key and suggested I bring in a different key. “It may break when we duplicate it,” he said, and again, I had visions of being locked out of our home. So the next day, I took in a different key. He looked at it and informed me that it wasn’t an original, but a copy. “A copy of a copy may not work well. A copy isn't exact, and the slight imperfections get magnified in each duplication process.” The copy did work, but not as well as it’s predecessor. It tended to stick and not open the lock smoothly; and wouldn't work at all in one deadbolt. A copy of the copy of the copy might not work at all. Suddenly, I understood a whole different issue that has troubled me.

Why are so many existing churches often unable to “open” the promises of fruitfulness and start-up churches often do better? The psychology of newness attracting attention explains part of it, but the implication bothers me. Abandoning ministries and facilities and establishing new ones as a means to growth seems a silly method to get a right result. And leaving one local church to go to another when we're bored or annoyed is much the same. It would be like me moving when my key is worn out.

Actually, of course, it’s more complicated than my analogy. If you are a part of a denomination or movement that has had a heritage of godliness, then there was a moment when God met that group of people who started the movement. They responded to truth revealed, faithfulness unveiled, and grace made real. These things became the pattern of a key that opened the door to the Father’s room, and they went in. They invited others to join them and this next generation copied that key. The friends of newly invited wanted entry and were given new copies of the copies of the key. Each generation of key was slightly less accurate and opened the door with successively increasing difficulty. Finally, entry is no longer possible. The copy of the copy of the copy of the copy of the copy is not usable. The key is almost accurate with differences that aren't noticeable unless directly compared to the original. But no longer will it open the door. Movements of God stop moving and the majesty of God is the memory of an earlier generation, locked away in the grave of the past—now only apparition. We believe that ghost of glory to be a remnant of reality and at times we see it dimly and long to see what our fore-bearers saw. But the real life is locked away.

Experiential truth cannot be accurately replicated, it must be received from the source. What I've experienced with God, or what my spiritual ancestors experienced, will not open the door to God for you. We often mistakenly believe that the experience and understanding of those who have preceded us is a finished key when in fact it is a key blank. It's prepared to fit into the keyhole--the shape and grooves are appropriate. But each individual, local church, and movement of God must be shaped by the truth and person of God. Like the Samaritans, who were given a key blank as they listened to the woman at the well speak about Jesus, we must gain from what others have learned. And also like them, we must also seek Him ourselves and let Him etch and mark us with His truth, accurately keying us so we are able open the doors that He desires.

Empty edifices are evidence of a copied key that no longer opens the door to the Presence of God. Apart from attraction to newness, church plants or changes in location often are successful because the people are forced to not rely solely on what they've received from others. They must also seek God. And, as promised, they find Him. But it seems to me that often it's a case of moving instead of re-keying--using a change of geography to affect a change of heart. So much work and expense invested when all that was really needed was a visit to the Master Locksmith. But don't we usually choose work over prayer?

Personally, I'd like to avoid the move. I'm weary from my hard work. I hope I've finally learned a lesson. I choose to be re-keyed.

Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony, "He told me everything I ever did." So when the Samaritans came to him, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days. And because of his words many more became believers. They said to the woman, "We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world." John 4:39-42

2010-10-10T09:55:00.001-04:00

“The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and and left untried.” (G.K. Chesterton)

"Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter...” (Jesus)

I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.
(Mohandas Gandhi)

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.” "By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (Jesus)

Thomas Jefferson was patriot, president, writer, inventor, more honest than most of us. In addition to all these things he accomplished in his life, he also compiled “The Jefferson Bible” from which he deleted the parts that presented difficulties to him. In a midnight moment of clarity, I, too, would admit that sections of scripture challenge me deeply. But as an avowed Bible-believing follower of Jesus, I cannot cut passages out of the Bible—at least literally. But what can I do with statements that are unimaginable, unobtainable, and undeniably integral to the teachings of Christ? He won't forgive me if I don't forgive others. Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of God. If I would come after Him I must deny himself. Love my neighbor as I love myself. Lose my life to gain it, keep hold of it and lose it. Show my love for Christ through obedience. If I don't embrace these truths, I must ignore, bypass, explain away, or bury them in my theology. I fear that Jesus would have sought out an honest heretic and passed by a hypocrite when He walked the shores of Galilee and that He does the same now.

What would happen if we stopped going to church and became the Church? How would it be different if we stopped saying, “Lord, Lord,” and gave ourselves to knowing what Jesus said and then to understanding and obeying? What would those around us say if our love for one another was no longer just words but a self sacrificial lifestyle? What if we saw our mission not as enjoying forgiveness, but giving it? How would the kingdom of darkness respond if our first priority was the Kingdom of God instead of possessions, security, comfort, and recognition?

The early believers were wildly successful in drawing others to Jesus because following Christ was not an option, it was the only life they could image. For them, Chesterton could not say it was found difficult and let untried. They abandoned themselves to the promises, premises, and provisions of Jesus and found Him faithful. And He has not changed.

I have my own personalized version of the Jefferson Bible, much shortened by ignoring and ignorance. I want to put those difficult passages back in. I would rather try obedience and fail than think it too difficult to attempt. And He did say, “I will never fail you nor forsake you.”

If our faith is real, if Jesus is real, then let us pursue with abandon all that we profess.

2010-08-27T19:42:00.000-04:00

How do I get God’s attention? Sometimes it seems like I’m in a busy, but understaffed store, desperately needing help, and the only one available is occupied with someone else. If God is really God, He sees and knows everything of course. But often in the gospels, Jesus would key in on one person out of a large group. I’ve always wanted to be that person and at times I need to be that person. Short Zacchaeus was quietly watching Jesus from his perch in the tree when Jesus called out to him. Blind Bartimaeus was shouting for mercy and wouldn’t be quiet until Jesus came to him. The bleeding woman intentionally touched Him and was noticed while the remainder of the crushing crowd remained in the background.

What have you tried? If you’re honest and a believer, you’ll have to admit that you’ve wanted, at least for a moment, to be that one who had God’s full attention. I’ve tried being zealous—going to the end of my strength to work, serve, obey, worship, fast, evangelize, and pray. All those things are godly and good when done in the spirit, but are not helpful when done religiously to try to force the Lord to notice how worthy I am of His attention.

I was reading in the book of Exodus the other day. This is one of the sections I re-read often because it seems that something important is escaping my attention. I noticed a phrase that I had read over many times without taking it in. Moses was minding his own business, caring for his father-in-law’s flocks. Then he saw the burning bush, and said, “I must turn aside now and see this marvelous sight…” Now a curious phrase: “When the LORD saw that he turned aside to look, God called to him…” This seems strangely human to me. It’s arrogant to assume God is like me, but wise to remember that we are made in the image of God. There are still fingerprints of God on all of us in spite of all we do to eradicate them. God doing something really special for Moses and then waiting for his response reminds me of when I try to do something nice for my wife, or she for me. There is that moment of anticipation—will she notice? Will she smile as she stops her work? Will she take a moment and enjoy what I’ve done especially for her? And after she “turns aside,” or I do, the bonds of love grow stronger as we each give and receive.

I wonder. Is getting God’s attention as simple as letting Him get my attention? Moses was busy with duties and stopped to look. Zacchaeus was too short to see over those in the front of the line, but climbed a tree to watch. Bartimaeus was blind, but when he heard Jesus was passing by, he “saw” grace coming towards him. The woman had looked to doctors to help her without avail, but perceived a walking miracle and stopped to wait in the crowd. Were Moses, Zacchaeus, Bartimaeus, and the woman different only because they stopped what they were doing—turned aside from focusing on duties, doubts, disabilities, or disease—to respond to God and to take a moment to pay attention? Perhaps I’ve had God’s attention all along, but He hasn’t had mine.

2010-08-18T17:09:00.002-04:00

Imagine. Your house is on fire. You’ve checked. Everyone is safe. As you leave, you have time to grab one thing on your way out. Everything else will be lost. What will you take? Your laptop with all your records? The photo album that captured the best family memories? Your life savings, brought home simply to be transferred to another bank the next day? The cup hand painted by your grandmother? What will you take?

Your priorities are not what you say; your priorities are what you do. Every action that you make precludes everything else for that moment except for the minor multi-tasking that is humanly possible. Perhaps you can safely talk on the phone as you drive, or listen to two conversations at once, but our abilities don’t go far beyond doing very simple tasks simultaneously. You can’t have two best friends, two favorite foods, or two first priorities. And you can’t legitimately claim to put God first if you don’t give yourself to knowing what He says and wholeheartedly making His priorities your priorities.

What is most important to God? Assuming I have made the initial decision to begin my walk with Jesus, what should I do next? Out of all the practical admonitions, what should I put first on my “to do” list? In the goals that define my character, what should be first? And what is the most important thing to ask God to give me? Believing that wisdom, grace, and ability comes from God, it seems wisest to begin with prayer, to ask before I try to do. Let's listen in as David speaks to God about what is most important to him:

“One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: …”

What did you ask for, David? Was it forgiveness? Eternal life? The ability to be faithful and productive? Children that walked with God? To be remembered as a righteous man? Wisdom, like your son, Solomon? No, none of these things!

“…that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.” (Psalms 27:4)

What does it mean to dwell, to live in the house of the Lord? To David, certainly, this would have to do with living within the place and ways that God instituted for His people, Israel, to worship and serve Him, not just as individuals, but as a people. For us, the house of the Lord is no longer a place, but a people made by God to be His temple, His Church. His Church is called "the fullness of Him Who fills all in all" in Ephesians. For me, to dwell in the house of the Lord must mean, in the New Testament metaphor, to be joined with other "stones" in building a living temple for the Lord, the "place" in which God is worshiped and where He most fully makes His home on earth. And these stones do not just together build the temple. They hold one another in place because they are side by side, one over another, with no room between. There are no mortar joints between the Lord's stones. God's people keep me in God's presence even when, in weakness, I would draw away. Their closeness gives me no room to move from Him.

It's God that I yearn for and desperately need. But the Lord has made it so that a part of what I seek of Him can only be found by being inexorably joined with others of like heart. The question is do I want Him enough to be permanently, inseparably conjoined with others that God chooses? Will I make it my priority prayer, like David, to dwell in the house of the Lord, not just on Sundays, but all the days of my life? If this is the one thing that I could take with me as I flee from the fire, is this what I would choose? Or will I settle for something good instead of what is priceless?

What is your "one thing?"

2010-07-24T11:49:00.001-04:00

I’m intolerant of tolerance. If ingested, tolerance becomes a parasite that attaches to a soul and devours excellence and replaces it with “whatever. “ Then the infected one, like a vampire, attacks others, drinks their life blood, and infects them also. Eventually, this results in a land in which Tolerance is king. In the land, the people believe nothing without reservation, never act with conviction, and withhold commitment to anything but tolerance. There is no honor, because nothing but tolerance is worthy of honor and tolerance forbids anyone achieving individual excellence. The best anyone can hope for is to be tolerated.

I will not live in that land. I have no desire to be tolerated by God, or others. The land I would choose is the Kingdom of God. Only in the Kingdom, can I be forgiven, loved, and then received without reservation, and then, over time, be able to better imitate Christ as the places in which I fail and fall short are lovingly pointed out so I can attempt, with the grace of God, and the support of friends and family, to act more in accordance with God’s ways. I will then attempt to give others the forgiveness given me and encourage excellence in virtue and accomplishment

All this came from reading the newspaper. Recently, as I read the letters to the editor, a writer described what he considered to be the faith’s main two points. The context was a “hot button” issue to which the Biblical perspective was offensive to the writer. He spoke about love and tolerance as he responded to a previous letter in which Biblical standards was strongly endorsed. I found myself troubled by every aspect of the written dialogue and began meditating about it.

First, the “tolerant’ writer seemed offended by the apparent self-righteousness of the “Christian.” Jesus spoke about the foolishness of trying to remove a speck in another’s eye when your own has a stick in it. Proclaiming Truth with self-righteousness seriously taints the message. Although I accept Biblical teaching about “normal” actions that God calls sin, it seems that I must take the perspective that the most abhorrent sin to God is my sin. This is the heart of humility and God says He resists the proud. Those outside the grace of God will resist me also if I don’t approach them as fellow sinners with the same need of forgiveness as I have. But having a speck in your eye or my stick in mine is not acceptable. Both must be removed. God is not tolerant of my sin or theirs. The goal is forgiveness, not tolerance.

Secondly, what human actions define our beliefs? Faith in God? Of course! Hope in His promises? Without reservation! Love for God and those around us? Without love, all other words and actions are meaningless! But what is even more foundational? What must come first, before absolutely anything else? The answer is found in Acts 2 as the Church is established. God has done miracles to get everyone’s attention. Peter then uses the opportunity to speak about Jesus and the people’s sin. Join the story in progress:

“When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, "Brothers, what shall we do?" Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

Repentance is the first step. To repent means to change direction. I, we, always go in the wrong direction without God’s help. My proclivities are indefensible and so are yours. They take us away from God. Repentance and forgiveness are the only way to access the promises of Christ. He loves us in spite of sin; He never tolerates us. And He commands us to do likewise to others. Tolerance removes the need for forgiveness and so removes us from the possibility of ever following after God. It replaces truth and life with a human platitude. Not a good trade, if you ask me.

2010-07-05T21:58:00.001-04:00

What’s your earliest memory? Was it something seemingly insignificant, but important to you? For me, one those memories was being carried on my father’s shoulders as he walked under a viaduct as water overflowed on us. It was the excitement of something fearfully different tempered by the security of being carried by my father. For less than an instant, I can be that little boy again, safe and excited with my Daddy. The house for our hearts is built with our memories.

My father enjoyed sharing an early memory of a life lesson learned well. He spoke of being small, still in a high chair as his mother, my grandmother, was working in the kitchen. He was old enough to be “potty trained” but young enough that he didn’t always find it convenient to use what he knew. So he sat in the high chair and chose the easier way when need arose to clear his bowels. He expected his mother to clean him up, as she had done so many times before. But my grandmother, the wise woman that she was, decided to not respond quickly to his calls. It was time—past time for intentional immaturity to be allowed. So she left him sitting in the mess he had made. He learned. He remembered both the lesson and the words he spoke: “It don’t sit good!” Discomfort was the exact motivation that he needed.

For my purposes, I’d like to distinguish between comfortable and comfort. In our common usage, giving comfort has to do with helping someone in distress. Holding a child who has been hurt is giving comfort. Making comfortable is fluffing the child’s pillow and giving the favorite stuffed toy at bedtime. A good parent gives comfort but sometimes chooses to make the child uncomfortable. Discontent from discomfort can motivate very well indeed.

There is godly discontent. There is a time to move forward when it would be more comfortable to stay as we have been. Being comfortable can be a greater obstacle to following God than Satan. In the past couple of years, my income has become a third of what it had been as a result of these difficult economic times. I wasn’t highly paid before, but I felt comfortable. As I’ve prayed and done the things that seemed appropriate, I’ve seen that my main motivation has been seeking to be comfortable again.

For me, the next step of maturity is trusting God differently. Previously, I would ask for a job that I could do with excellence and that would provide appropriately. That’s good, but not the best. Depending on God depends on perceiving that I am irrevocably needy. If I am comfortable, I won’t be aware that I need God and will not pray as if I did.

But Jesus spoke about our asking for our daily bread. I understand that to be an ongoing dependence for every need. In Biblical times, if God didn’t provide and protect, than hunger would be the main course. Hard work in the fields could be undone in a moment from a storm and it wouldn’t be an inconvenience, it would be a famine. Now, our technological sophistication, intended to provide for us, has become a padded room encasing us, protecting us from needing God.

I was comfortable. Need has made me uncomfortable. The Father offered comfort, reminding me of His promises. But I still demanded to be comfortable, to not live desperately needing God. So I sit in the mess of demands I’ve made. So my father’s words come to mind. “It don’t sit good.” And The Father’s words also come to mind, giving uncomfortable comfort: "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness."

2010-06-11T16:37:00.001-04:00

A Christmas Carol

I had an epiphany. No, that’s not a surgical procedure inappropriate to be spoken of in front of young children. It’s a sudden, intuitive understanding.

It started with a Christmas carol. And no, this isn’t a story about ghosts and Christmas’s past. It’s about a Christmas song I grew up hearing. It’s not a great song. It’s probably not even a good song. But as it was stuck in my mind, my imagination went to work on it.

The Little Drummer boy had no gift that was fit for a king, but he had a drum, so he played his best for Him. Seemingly an innocent song, it reminds me of crayon “drawings” put lovingly on the refrigerator, obviously treasured, not for the merit of the art, but because it came from a little one that’s held dear. There is a part of our relationship with Father God that is like that. He does indeed treasure us and delights in our love for Him.

My epiphany was seeing that same boy fifty years in the future. In my imagination, he was grizzled and worn. But more importantly, he was frantic and bitter. He was still playing his drum for Jesus and Jesus didn’t care. I intuitively knew the story. Jesus had told him to seek His Kingdom. The boy-man continued to play his drum. Jesus had said to care for sick, give to the poor, and be a servant to all. Jesus had said to die to selfish desires. But the drum beat continued all the stronger, now driven by hurt and anger, still trying to get Jesus’ attention.

You’ve probably jumped ahead. You understand why I intuitively knew the story. I see myself. I am childish, thinking that God will like my gift just because I give it. I haven’t understood that older children need to learn to give what is asked, not what they desire to give. I try to give the same gift better, with more devotion, more self-sacrifice, and then become discouraged when it’s not received well. Daddy doesn’t want my finely crafted picture of a pony when he’s told me to pick up my toys.

When I look around, I see others like me. We do not lack right devotion, we lack right direction. We offer what seems good to us, not what is required. We devise plans to serve God rather than praying and seeking what He really would desire. And then we lie awake at night, wondering where God’s blessing is when we’ve worked so hard for Him.

The Message translation puts it well.

Doing things for God is the opposite of entering into what God does for you. (Gal. 3:11)

When you attempt to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace. (Gal. 5:4)

I’m taking off my toy drum, putting away my crayons, and picking up my toys. Daddy said He was waiting, and as soon as I was done, He wanted to take a walk with me.

2010-06-04T19:35:00.003-04:00

The “Right” Way to do Church

Choose the correct answer to the following questions:

The leader of the congregation is called: (A) Reverend (B) Father (C) Pastor (D) The Reverend Doctor (E) Jerk.

The congregation meets: (A) 9:30 for Sunday School; 11:00 for Worship (that’s the way we’ve always done it) (B) 10:30 for worship (to beat all the others to the best eating places) (C) Saturday evening (to leave Sunday free for sleeping in or golf) (D) I don’t remember because I haven’t been there in a while.

Our doctrine is (A) Right (B) Conservative (C) Liberal (D) Evangelical (E) Pre-millennial, post trib (whatever that means) (G) Made up as we go along.

Our leaders always wears (A) a suit and tie (B) a casual shirt and jeans or slacks (C) a robe and/or clerical collar (D) a nicely tailored dress (E) shorts and sandals.

We meet in (A) a beautiful sanctuary (B) a dumpy sanctuary (C) a rented space in the local school or motel (C) a storefront (D) a friend’s family room.

Baptism should be (A) done on infants (B) only done on people who have made a decision for Christ (C) done by sprinkling (D) done by immersion (E) only done outside in a river or lake.

We use a Bible that has “thee’s” and “thou’s” because (A) that’s the way Jesus talked (B) we sound more spiritual (C) that’s the way it’s always been done (E) I have no idea

We don’t use a Bible that has “thee’s” and “thou’s” because (A) that’s the way Jesus really talked (B) sounding less spiritual is more spiritual (C) we’re contemporary (E) I have no idea.

The right songs to sing in worship times are (A) hymns (B) gospel (C) contemporary (D) southern gospel.

Most of the outward forms of our church experience are not Biblical. Not wrong, but based on our traditions rather than the Bible itself. They are cultural ways we’ve found to follow Christ together. You may feel strongly about any of the preceding questions. You are allowed. But it’s only your opinion. None of them are addressed in the Bible with specific instructions. And nowhere does it say to gather in a large room with stained glass, pews, a piano and organ, listen to special music, sing a particular style of music as worship, listen to a speaker for 20 minutes with no interaction, file out and shake his/her hand, tell him/her how meaningful the sermon was, and then rush away to lunch.

Tradition is a gift from God. But it’s only shorthand, a way of packing a lot of meaning into an event. In our everyday lives, we may give a gift for a special occasion, like an anniversary. That’s a way to tell a spouse, “I’d marry you again! I love you so much!” without words. In our corporate lives, it’s a way to experience meaning and to pass it on to another generation, as Jesus did when he broke bread with them at the Last Supper, and told them to do it often in memory of Him. They did and we still do.

The gift of tradition, however, comes with danger. Gifts at Christmas should be a reminder of the Father giving His Son to us. Our tradition of gift giving has replaced the reason for giving presents to one another.

Our manner of gathering together, our tradition, has in large measure replaced the Biblical mandates for our life together as the Body of Christ. We often teach tradition rather than the Bible. We love to read about the early church in the Book of Acts, but I fear we would not like to give our possessions away or spend our evenings in one another’s homes, genuinely worshipping and caring for each other. Having an outward form is so much more easy than the real thing. We like to condemn the Pharisees, but fail to see that we often have the same failings.

Jesus said to the Pharisees (and to us, unfortunately): "Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: " 'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.' You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men." (Mark 7:6-8)

2010-05-14T20:52:00.001-04:00

Revolution.

Jesus said, “…I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” We built buildings.

Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” We doled out cheap grace and told them to ask Jesus into their hearts.

Jesus prayed to the Father, “…I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” We divided the Church into denominations and fracture local churches with disagreements over style of worship.

Jesus said, “…whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” We have invested our resources in structures and parking lots.
Jesus said, "My kingdom is not of this world.” We don’t understand there is no such thing as a “Christian” nation. There is only a Kingdom made of Christ followers from every tribe and nation.

Jesus said, “The greatest among you will be your servant.” We call great those who do a task well and those whose passion is serving are deemed insignificant.

Jesus said, “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.” We have sought to be comfortable.

Jesus said, “Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me.” We have obeyed the commands that were pleasing to us and claimed love for Jesus.

Revolution. We have been in revolt against God and yet are unaware. We have mistaken our desires for God’s will. We have self-rule instead of God’s rule.

Revolution. We must revolt against our own self-rule. Jesus calls that repentance.

2010-05-07T17:02:00.005-04:00

Losing the Fight; Winning the Relationship

Nobody wins a fight with God. I didn’t either. I didn’t expect to. I didn’t want to. I didn’t fight to be proven right. I fought to be righteous. I’ve heard “righteous” explained as “right relationship.” Having a right relationship with God, or my wife, or my friends, is so much better than being right. The purpose of “fighting” is not to be proven right, or to harm another. The purpose is to remove the things that separate, whether those things are thoughts and emotions, or actions that need to be confessed or forgiven. What I thought and felt separated me from God. Those things were honest, but not true. My fight restored truth about God and about me.

By nature, we tend to either be presumptuous with God or dishonest. We either insist that we know better than Him, or we’re afraid to be real. We’re arrogant or we’re hypocrites. When those outside the Church rightly accuse us, most often it’s one of these. Ghandi is quoted as saying, “If it weren't for Christians, I'd be a Christian.” For my own sake, and for the sake of dishonoring Christ, I cannot afford to knowingly be dishonest or proud. It will cost my relationship with God and potentially cost others theirs.

But what can I do? The prophet Habakkuk told God His perspective and asked to be corrected. I’ve tried to follow his example. And like Habakkuk, I’ve regained perspective. He’s God and I’m not. Truth has replaced mistaken honesty. Although the barrier is gone between us, distance remains. I still must “makeup” with God.

Again the prophet shows the way. At the end of his short book, he says:

"Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights."

I make a choice. Loving and following Jesus is not dependent on getting what I want or think I need. That would be a shallow relationship. I love God because He loves me. I must stop looking at circumstances and look at Him and remember and recount His love for me. “Though the fig tree does not bud…” Even though life may not be what I’d expected or hoped for, I will rejoice—not in circumstances, but in God, my Savior. And as I make the choice and act on it, I move towards God. The separation is gone and I again experience the love of God.

The fight not fun; it was deeply painful. But the outcome is worth it.

2010-04-14T20:55:00.001-04:00

Fighting With God

I’ve been fighting with God. There, I’ve said it. No justifications, no excuses. I’m unhappy with Him and disappointed.

This is not going to be an accusation against God, though I certainly have those thoughts and emotions. This is not going to be theology, trying in vain to answer questions that are unanswerable, though I long for answers. This is about the process of being angry and fighting with Someone you love and are absolutely committed to and Who loves you when you can’t love yourself.

What do you do when your spouse, Father, Mother, sibling, or best friend says or does something that deeply hurts or offends you. You know that he or she is worthy of your trust based on long experience. But you are so angry… You can ignore it, make jokes about it or deftly place verbal barbs to wound and keep the other at bay, letting the hurt and anger become an insurmountable barrier. Or you can have a fight, clear the air, forgive or be forgiven, and re-establish the connection cut by the sharpness of the pain. The latter is clearly best and Biblical. Go to your adversary quickly. Do not let the sun go down on your anger. If he listens, you have (re)gained your brother. It is hard now to make peace with your adversary, but potentially vastly rewarding later.

But what do you do if your adversary is God? He does not have the capacity to do wrong, yet your heart screams that He has. Honesty with God is both perilous and precious. Although His grace and mercy are astonishing, He has no love of pride. And even in the New Testament, He killed Ananias and Sapphira when they treated Him and the Church with profound disrespect by lying. It’s not wise to be presumptuous with God. But it’s not wise to be dishonest about what we really feel and think either. He’s also not fond of hypocrisy.

The little book of Habakkuk gives help. God is planning on administrating discipline to Israel through a country even more in need of correction. The prophet didn’t like or understand what the Lord was doing and he told Him so quite plainly. But he knew that what he said was honest but not the truth. Listen to what he says after he has opened his heart to God:

…And I will keep watch to see what He will speak to me, and how I may reply when I am reproved. (Habakkuk 2:1)

He had strong thoughts and feelings about God’s plans that seemed entirely rational to him. God was wrong and he was right—in his own mind. But instead of trying to prove God wrong, he argued for God to reprove him. In the end, God didn’t change his circumstances. God fundamentally changed him.

I want to be like Habakkuk. I’ve tried ignoring my thoughts or pretending they were unimportant. It didn’t work. Temper tantrums haven’t been helpful. Attempts to win arguments have been disastrous. This time I want to fight to lose. I will argue with my Father and listen for correction from the Lord of the universe. I will find that God is not my adversary. I am.

2010-03-26T11:47:00.002-04:00

Unity: The Aroma of Christ

As we sat in the doctor’s office waiting for her appointment, I massaged my wife’s sore neck and shoulders. I had volunteered, but the truth be known, I would have rather not. I’m selfish. The choice between the book I’d brought along and blessing her should have been obvious. It wasn’t. But once I got started, I did it wholeheartedly. I saw another woman watching us with great interest as we chatted and I searched for knots in the tight muscles. When she made eye contact, she said, “I’m jealous! I wish my husband would do that for me…”

I don’t claim to be a good husband, but my wife’s pain bothers me--first, because it hurts her, and secondly, because it can't help but affect everyone in the family. It’s the nature of family to not just share a formalized commitment or genetics (increasingly a “too confining” definition), a home (for a season), a common last name (not necessarily), mealtimes (occasionally) and all the germs that come in the door. It’s the nature of family to share difficulties and joys; to listen when ears are tired; to speak truth when it hurts because lies hurt more; to invest in another’s good at great personal cost. A functional family is a unit of people unlike in gender, age, and interests sharing life together. It is a unity. And like true beauty, it is attractive because it’s both the ideal and it’s uncommon.

The lady in the waiting room may have wanted a back rub, but she longed to be cared for, to be incredibly important to someone. Seeing my feeble attempts to give that to my wife stirred up a hunger in her. Instead of loving my wife, I could have spoken to the woman about God’s love and perhaps we would have had a nice conversation. But most often, when our words are segregated from action, they have little impact and do not stir hunger for God. Something to tantalize the appetite is needed.

When it’s getting to mealtime, but I’m busy and preoccupied, and I drive by a restaurant sign, I usually ignore their words. But when the incredible smell of well seasoned grilled steak come into the window of my car, I suddenly know I’m hungry; I’m very hungry indeed. The aroma both reminds me that I haven’t eaten and it proves that a restaurant is nearby.

This leads me to Jesus’ strange words about unity.

…May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:23)

I’ve read the metaphysical, theological musings about this passage. I suspicion that many are accurate, but entirely miss the point. Unity and love are not theological ideas, they are a way of life based on decisions—as simple as a back rub and as hard as choosing an unselfish act. The world often scoffs at our rhetoric as just another passing sign to be ignored and place of worship as another building cluttering the landscape. But it doesn’t scoff at back rubs. They are the tantalizing aroma that reminds them they are hungry and proves that food is nearby. Although our words about Jesus are very important, it seems that the proof of our words is our love for one another and our unity. At least that’s what Jesus said.

2 Corinthians 2:15 For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.

John 13:35 By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.

2010-03-18T10:13:00.002-04:00

“Daddy’s Coming!”

About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice… "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46)

The outdoors was my father’s passion. He called forests “God’s Country.” Family outings were picnics to secluded areas that included long walks. Vacations were almost invariably camping trips to wilderness areas. This is a story about how a visit to “God’s Country” became a visit from God.

Daddy was looking for the perfect place to camp. Not a campground—no to him campgrounds were like towns in the forest. It had to be wilderness yet it had to accessible to our old station wagon. It wasn’t an easy task, but my Dad was up for it. He had a tip from a park ranger about a great spot. There was a road of sorts because workers had to occasionally service the remote gas wells in the heart of the Allegheny National Forest.

We got there about dusk on Sunday night. I remember the pungent aroma we smelled as we arrived. It was from small leakage from the wells. It’s odd, isn’t it, how things we smelled as a child provoke strong memories. As usual, we set up camp together. The tent, air mattresses, wood for the camp fire all received attention from weary hands and bodies, big and small. Our dog Frisky’s collar jingled as he too gave himself to the important task of exploring and smelling. I’ve always been distracted by sounds.

Family evening walks were always on Daddy’s agenda. We explored a long abandoned railroad right of way whose coal burning steam engines had carried away logs decades previously. As a young boy who had never encountered coal before, the discarded lumps were fascinating and they filled my pockets. As a skinny little boy—my how we change—I hadn’t worn a belt, and soon my pants were sliding down my skinny bottom. My Mom took a portion of Frisky’s rope leash and made me a belt. It amazes me now how she adapted to a boy’s behavior without criticism and with creativity.

I was probably the cause. We walked and walked. At least it seemed that way to short legs and full pockets. I don’t remember whining, but I’m sure I did. At any rate, what happened next had never happened before and never did again. My father left his family to look for a shortcut back to camp. He took Frisky and left us waiting.

From the vantage point now of being a parent, I’m again amazed with Mom. Time stretched on, Dad didn’t return, and yet she remained outwardly calm. Eventually, she led us back to camp in the growing darkness. Someone mentioned rattlesnakes. Mom assured us that Daddy could take care of himself. In spite of those courageous words, fear followed us—not just to camp, but to our beds.

I was in the back of station wagon, unable to sleep. First light was making its way through the forest leaves when I heard it. I didn’t care that my sister and mom were trying to sleep. I heard the jingle of the steel rings on Frisky’s collar. I shouted at the top of my lungs, “Daddy’s coming! Daddy’s Coming!” No one else but a little boy had listened and remembered the sound associated with our dog’s brisk walk. No one else knew Daddy was coming.

God often seems absent, away on other business, while I am confused and afraid. This seems to be our common experience, even for Jesus. The Gospels clearly teach that Jesus knew the cross was coming. Yet there was a moment in time in which He, in spite of knowledge, in spite of absolute trust, in spite of faith, felt abandoned and forsaken. The scriptures are silent about most of His thoughts during His agony but I would conjecture that He gave Himself to remembering what He had heard and seen in His Father’s presence. He remembered the sound of His Father’s footsteps. When He said, “It is finished,” He “heard the jingle” of those footsteps that told Him, “Abba, Daddy, is coming! Daddy’s coming!”

What are the sound of Father’s footsteps? I hope I know. In times of distress, I must know and remember Him or I am without hope. For me, Father not only saved a family from potential tragedy, he taught a little boy to listen and to pay attention to things others might overlook. The little boy is gray haired now. But I’m still listening, and I believe I hear Him coming near.

Listen! Can you hear Father’s footsteps, too?

2010-03-12T13:08:00.006-05:00

Tortured

When I read the confession, I threw the paper on the floor and screamed, not from my agony, but his. In my mind’s eye, I could see the captive tortured. I could hear his bones crack. I could smell his scorched flesh. I could see him enduring it all; saying nothing except the same words that had branded him as a traitor. The words attributed to him had to be those of another.

The captive in this case was not a person, but a passage of scripture. I did throw a paper to the floor and yell. The paper was not a confession. It was simply some notes for a Bible study I was doing. But I, with either spectacular silliness or a degree of perception, reacted to what was written as if it were incredibly important and fundamentally wrong. The author of the notes was attributing meaning and intent to a challenging verse that tortured the context. He broke the bones, the actual structure of the words. He wrote a “confession” that he insisted was endorsed by the captive verse, and broadcasted it to the world. When I read the words, it was as if I were an unwitting witness to a torture born confession.

I was very upset, but to be clear, I was not offended because I have a different doctrine than the writer. I mostly find agreement and use the resource because it takes the study of scripture very seriously. It’s not that I have a different understanding of the passage. I don’t understand it. It does not easily fit in with my admittedly limited understanding of the grand themes of the Bible. But I am offended by the distortion of the text and context to make it fit into a theology, even an accurate theology. We must not adapt scripture to fit our preconceptions and imagine God to say what we think wise and practical. Or expedient. This is the committed Christian’s chief place of vulnerability to betrayal. But how does this happen?

I came of age in a time when prisoners of war were routinely tortured so that they would sign bogus confessions and publicly defame the country that they served. On TV, I saw gaunt, wooden, hollow-eyed men say things that everyone knew refuted everything they held dear. Yet they confessed to things that were not true. The wounded, broken men spoke broken words, emptied of the conviction that had bled out from of their wounds.

I have also seen the Church suffer the effects of torture in our battle with Satan. Only, in this case, the enemy often torments subtly to obtain small concessions rather than outright betrayal. In the midst of loneliness, thoughts bombard the mind to lower the standard for appropriate companionship. Financial pressure cuts at resolve for integrity. Hunger for church growth gnaws at the truth of the cost of following Christ. Most often, we see the process as being flexible; simplifying; or in the case of the Bible study, fitting scripture into our system of understanding. To accomplish His goal of diminishing God’s Word, Satan may say He will end His torture if we give adherence to a doctrine rather than to Truth; give a plan of salvation instead of a Savior; replace peace with the absence of conflict; talk about Jesus instead of obeying Him; or build a building instead of the Church. Too often we can stand no more and have succumbed to these lies.

I wonder if, when others see and hear us, they sometimes see broken, spiritually gaunt, hollowed eyed people speaking broken words, emptied of the conviction that bled out from their wounds. In this, I remember with hope the promise of the prophet. By His wounds we are healed.

By His wounds I am healed.

Matthew 9:36 Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd

Jeremiah 17:14 Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed ; Save me and I will be saved, For You are my praise.

2010-03-10T13:48:00.002-05:00

Text and Context

What’s your favorite scripture?

Most of us, me included, gravitate towards passages that give comfort, assurance, or reason to trust. I’ve never heard anyone quote what Jesus said in Matthew 7:23 as one of their top ten: “Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'” We understandably want comfort rather than confrontation, but that mindset can lead to misunderstanding.

God loves me and cares for me faithfully. There are many, many passages that affirm those core truths. I need to often be reminded. But it’s also important that I understand that God often describes what He means in more detail before or after our favorite verse. And it’s not necessarily what I would assume. For example, I heard a story about a Northern woman getting a job in the rural South. One day at lunchtime, she was inundated with work and didn’t feel she should take the time to go out for lunch. A co-worker was going out, and the woman asked if the co-worker would pick her up a sandwich and bring it back. The co-worker said, simply: I don’t care to.” and left. The woman was devastated because to her, the answer meant “I don’t want to.” Not only was the woman hungry, but more importantly, she worried about being able to work effectively with cold, mean co-worker— One who wouldn’t even try to offer an excuse like, “I don’t have time— Sorry! Just a blatant, –at least as the woman understood--“ I don’t want to take an extra 30 seconds for you.” A while later, the co-worker returned with sandwich in hand. The conversation that resulted showed the woman that “I don’t care to” really meant “I don’t mind at all.” It was necessary to dig deeper for the context of what the idiom meant in that particular culture. The words isolated from their context resulted in misunderstanding.

When life seems out of control, I often think of Jeremiah 29:11:

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

At first reading, this passage seemed to give a promise for a rosy future. I want to prosper! I want God to bless me with a bright future! And He does! It’s just not necessarily in the ways that I would imagine. The context of these incredible promises was that Israel was beginning a long period of exile to Babylon. Sin had resulted in discipline and it was important for exiles to remember that, in spite of the present pain, God’s long term plans and promises remained intact. Out of context, the verse seemed to mean that they (and consequently me) would avoid difficulties that brought short term harm. The context is that God’s faithfulness transcends current circumstances. Although they couldn’t return to the Promised Land, their children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren would. If you or I misunderstand God to promise that life will always be pleasant based on scriptures such as this, then we will come to believe that either God is a liar or that we are somehow disqualified from enjoying His promises..

I’m not a Biblical scholar. It’s important to have scholars searching the nuances that knowledge of original languages and culture can bring. Those who do that can deepen our understanding and enrich us. But the intended audience of the Bible has never been the scholar. It’s always been “us” –the Israelites, the Church, the seekers. The majority of difficulties that we have in understanding are the same as woman in the story. She made a reasonable assumption of what her co-worker meant, but until she had a conversation with her, she didn’t and couldn’t understand the context. Until we begin to dialogue with scripture, we will be stuck in misunderstanding. If we don’t understand what a person says, we might ask, “What did you say?” The actual words, the ‘text, is the starting point. If we still don’t understand, we might say, “What do you mean?” The surrounding life events, culture, and other things said that modify or enhance the meaning of the words is the context. Whether in life or scripture, text and context are the keys to understanding. It often takes some effort to dig out the context, but it’s well worth the effort.

If you don’t believe me yet, just ask the husband whose wife just said she was fine after a tough argument and he took the words at face value without looking at her face and body language. I’m sure he eventually found out he didn’t understand at all.

2010-03-03T09:45:00.002-05:00

Who’s Your Daddy?

My wife and I traveled to a southern state for our honeymoon. We stayed at a cabin in the mountains. When we saw a large insect that looked like a cricket by the fireplace, I performed my “manly” duties and dispatched the intruder. As we examined the remains, we saw it had a cricket’s body and a scorpion’s stinger. A friend later shared she had had a similar incident, but was stung and her arm went numb. She also killed the culprit, and when she looked closely at it and saw the same odd mixture of species, she took the offender to the local university entomologist (bug-ologist). The scientist explained that scorpions were migrating and occasionally interbred with crickets and the result was what she brought in. The daddy of this aberation was an aggressive, virulent intruder who mixed his genes with an unsuspecting, peace loving local. The result of this union wounded our friend.

A few years ago, I became close to a fellow leader at our local church. I enjoyed him and respected him immensely. He also had a very responsible position at the corporation for which he had worked at for many years. One evening his wife shared with great pride that he had learned many things from his management position at work and he was looking forward to implementing them in his responsibilities at church.

Unfortunately, he did act on what he had learned. I’m confident that his intentions were good, but incorporating corporate “wisdom” and giving it equal or greater weight than biblical wisdom ended up causing great harm. In a time of crisis for our church, his response was that we immediately needed to do something. A number of people strongly agreed. Others said; “Pray! Seek God! And after we’ve done that, we’ll make a plan of action.” We came to a bitter impasse. Both groups wanted the church to overcome adversity and thrive, but the “father” of the first mindset was human wisdom and the “father” of the second mindset was God as the source of wisdom. Sadly, we are routinely ruled by mindsets and principles that do not come from this side of the Cross.

For example, who and what is the pastor? Is this minister an individual who serves at the pleasure of people, and so must, first and foremost, be a politician. Or is he, or she, a shepherd who is allotted responsibility to care for some of the Chief Shepherd’s sheep? Is pastoral ministry a job or a calling? Boards and congregations have tended to regard the pastor as an “at will” employee who can be dismissed based on a lack of popularity. They don’t understand that, in the short term, unpopularity is often the result of following God closely. (Think “Jesus.”) They don’t understand the difference between a job and a God given calling.

A genuine calling results in devotion to ministry, and giving far beyond what is “required.” To the ones called to pastoral ministry, the cost of sacrifice to themselves and their families is secondary to their passion for Christ and for those for whom He died. But there is sacrifice too painful to bear. Having their high calling treated as only a job that can easily be filled by another imparts to those in ministry a sense of personal dishonor and disrespect for the office of pastor. Too many have been so grievously wounded by this that they are lost to ministry. And sometimes, they are even lost to themselves.

There are broader implications. Few mourn the loss of the wounded left to suffer in their solitude, and fewer still turn aside from their busy lives to care for the hurting. In doing this, we deny that we, the strong and the weak, the rich and the poor, the well and the hurting, are the Body of Christ, the fullness of Him who fills all in all. We deny that what we do for the least of these hurting ones, we do for Jesus Himself. And I’m terrified by the knowledge that some believe they have served God well in their mutiny from God’s seemingly impractical ways. Those who devalue their pastor for the sake of growth in numbers or finances, or who shut their ears to the cry of wounded so they can accomplish their goals believe they can serve God better in the manner of their own choosing rather than in the ways that He mandates. The father of their understanding is no longer God but human wisdom. I’d much rather face a giant mutant scorpion-cricket hybrid than Biblical purpose crossbred with worldly perspectives.

Galatians 3:3 Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?

Romans 12:2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will

Colossians 2:20 Since you died with Christ to the basic principles of this world, why, as though you still belonged to it, do you submit to its rules:

I John 2:15 Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

2010-02-25T19:40:00.000-05:00

“Church, The Series”

If the Church were a TV series, what would it be?

There are, of course, programs that gain popularity because they play to our worst inclinations. Lust, violence, greed, and the desire to see others demeaned are a negative aspect of our humanity that an increasing amount of television caters to. But many others are based on our common needs, desires, and experiences. If well done, these can even become an integral part of our common culture. Mayberry means a close knit small town. Ozzie and Harriet communicates an idyllic family even to those who never have seen the show.

In my imagination, “Church, The Series” might be about sports. Perhaps it would be about an underdog team that always wins in the final moments of the big game. Jesus does win at the end, and the devil is our adversary. (I guess it sounds like a movie, not a series.) Or maybe, the show could be about a hero like Jack Bauer from “24” who reluctantly saves an oblivious world season after season with a team of mostly expendable characters. (Jesus did save an oblivious world, didn’t He? But I guess He didn’t torture anyone—He allowed Himself to be tortured.) Or how about a romance? We are the Bride of Christ, aren’t we? (Unfortunately, there would be fewer men watching than are interested in attending church.)

After eliminating those possibilities, my mind turns toward reality TV and comedies. A reality show about the church could work, but it’s too painful to even consider. But an ensemble comedy could work. I can see it now: a group of people thrown together, muddling through obstacles together, and growing to love one another in spite of often not liking one another. And there are classic comedies to consider as examples, aren’t there? “Andy Griffith”, “Mary Tyler Moore”, “Taxi”, “MASH”, “Bill Cosby”, “Cheers”, “Friends”, “Seinfeld”, and “The Office” are some that come to mind.

“MASH”, a comedy about the doctors, nurses, and staff of an army mobile hospital unit in the Korean War, makes the top of my list for three reasons. It was the most popular. Until the recent Superbowl, the final episode was the most watched show of all time in America. The show was successful in connecting the audience to the story and the characters. Secondly, the characters were flawed and funny, but passionate about their mission of healing the wounded. And lastly, their relationships were forged by their shared commitment to the mission, not by similar cultural background or interests or inclinations.

In many ways, MASH could be a parable of what the Church looks like when it works. Our mission is never funny, but we often are. We are quirky and murky when we have too much time on our hands, but when there is a noble mission, we risk everything for each other or even a stranger. When we realize that we are sent to be mobile healers of those wounded by wiles and weapons of Satan, we become heroes—reluctant, comic heroes-- but heroes none the less.

Unfortunately, those who view us from a distance often see us more like Seinfeld, famous for being about nothing. I don’t mind being laughed at, but I don’t want to be about nothing.

John 15:16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last.

2010-02-19T20:44:00.001-05:00

The Two Walls

I walked in through the city gate after working hard in the groves all day. I was weary, but content. The olives were nearly ready, and soon I would start the harvest. The rain had come at the right times. There was peace and few bandits. I looked forward to tending our small garden and then sitting in the twilight with my family.

When I reached home, I checked on my children and our garden. The children were fine, but the plants were all trampled down. I yelled for my wife, and she tried to calm me, explaining that the neighbor children had been playing without supervision and had run through our garden. All that contentment was trampled with my plants. I did my best to stake up what I could. I picked damaged vegetables that were still unripe and hoped we could get some good from them. As I worked, I decided what I would do to keep this from ever happening again.

At bedtime, I lay down and pretended to sleep. When I heard everyone had the breath of sleep, I quietly got up and went to the city wall. I climbed up, took an armful of stones and carried them home to my garden. I laid them out for the beginning of a little barrier to protect my garden. Surely, the absence of a few rocks from the wall wouldn’t be noticed and would hurt no one…A week later, I did the same. Another week or so later, I went out once again. Soon, my garden was protected.
I thought no one noticed. At least no one said anything, but I noticed other little walls slowly growing as our city’s wall gradually grew shorter. I didn’t care. My garden was safe. Besides, our city hadn’t been attacked in generations.

The next year at harvest time, I was again coming home from working in the olive groves feeling contented. There were rumors of war, but one always heard all sorts of rumors. The harvest was going to be good, and my garden would this year provide for our needs. As I walked along the path, others ran past me, yelling, “Run! Run for your life! They’re coming!” Though I didn’t know who was coming, I, ran. And though I ran fast, the horses carrying the men with swords and spears ran much faster. I stumbled and fell senseless and the riders passed me by, thinking me dead like many others all around me.

When I came to myself, it was almost dark. I saw the city gates closed, but it was clear that wall was no longer a barrier to anyone determined to enter. I, too, was determined, as were the warriors who had gone over the wall before me. Stealthily, I went from building to building. The soldiers had finished conquering and now were now giving themselves to the rewards of that conquest. Now and again, I heard a woman or child cry out in anguish.

Finally, I reached our home. The door was askew. No one was there, but there was blood on the threshold. I heard drunken voices talking and laughing, coming in my direction, and hid in what had been our home. As I cowered in the corner, the sound of one of the neighbor children screaming, first in terror, then in pain, filled the night. He was one who had thoughtlessly played in my garden. When his cries stopped, I knew he would never play thoughtlessly again.

I remembered my anger. I remembered just wanting to keep my garden safe. And I remembered stealing the stones that were for my community’s protection and taking them for myself, and then others doing the same. I remembered my wife's face and my children's' laughter. I knew I would remember always because memories were all that remained--except my garden wall.

Haggai 1:9 "You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?" declares the LORD Almighty. "Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house.

2010-02-13T13:24:00.000-05:00

Waiting, but Not Ready

I'm usually the first one up on the mornings our family is taking a trip. But somehow, I am also usually the last one ready. I say I'm waiting on them, but I get distracted and don't get 100% finished with my own preparations. Maybe I haven't yet showered, or brushed my teeth, or put on my shoes. So even though I'm early, I'm late because I'm not quite ready.

I drive an old car. I love it and enjoy driving it. It runs well and dependably in spite of over 200,000 miles of use. Other than maintenance, I've done hardly anything to it. It was a huge surprise a few months ago when I turned the key and it didn't start immediately. It made a single click and then did nothing. I tried again and it started immediately. So it wasn't the battery, it was the starter. Most of the time, the car would start fine. But increasingly, it would only click. And increasingly, it would take longer and longer for it to start. Occasionally, I'd even have to get out and tap the starter with a hammer. But money was really tight, and there never seemed to be enough for new starter. When it was time, however, to drive hours to another state, I knew I couldn't delay any longer. I knew I wasn't prepared for the trip. I could get stranded in the proverbial middle of nowhere. A long standing, long deferred need suddenly became urgent. I've been waiting for this trip for a long time, but I wasn't ready.

I feel the same way about the Church. I love the Church. I don't mind that many don't find it attractive in a trendy way. We are well worn, but built to last a long time. But increasingly, I have a sense of urgency. There is a road ahead of us that we are not ready to travel. The familiar ways that we have been accustomed to navigate are closing. The culture that has mostly been friendly to us is changing. No longer will that culture help us; indeed it is becoming hostile. We can't afford to "break down" in that neighborhood.

After 9/11, many people were saying, "This changes everything." There was an awareness that an era had ended, and a new one had begun. But that awareness seemed to be quickly lost, and for most, lives continued as if the old ways of understanding the world hadn't been outdated. Those who maintained the same assumptions about the economy as before have had a wakeup call. Savings depleted. Homes foreclosed. Whole industries decimated. It is as if there were a sudden temperature change from 35 degrees to 30 degrees. We'd been used to water being a liquid. If we stepped in a puddle, we'd get wet. Now, if we step in the same place, we'll slip. Or more apropos, we've been driving on a rainy day. The temperature falls below freezing as we're in the comfortable car and are totally unaware that the wet looking spot ahead is a patch of ice. Soon we'll be in the ditch and we don't have a clue.

We've been comfortable, and unaware of fundamental changes going on outside. For the most part, the world has been, at worst, neutral towards the Church in America and has even often helped us. In a sense, our culture (and government) has financed our buildings, programs, and staffs. We don't pay property taxes. Our contributions are tax deductable. There have been relatively few strings attached. But it seems likely that either those "subsidies" with cease or become leverage to force compliance to ways of acting and speaking that are clearly not Biblical. And then, what will we do? The level of giving will decrease if giving is no longer tax deductible. We will be unable to pay for buildings we have built on the assumption that giving would always increase, not decrease. Or if it's decreed that we can no longer proclaim Jesus as the only way to know God, or lose our tax deductibility status, what will we choose?

It is, I believe, inevitable that our favored status with the government ends. That is only the most obvious outcome of the changes already begun. It is not the most difficult. Ridicule will morph into persecution. Worldwide economic and political policies, unfettered greed and lust for power, and growing unrest among many groups could lead to unemployment and need and suffering that dwarfs anything most of us in the Western world have ever experienced. What do we do? Some will want to get involved politically. Do it, if the Lord moves you, but don't expect too much. Political victories do not change men's hearts. Others will want to stock pile food or invest in gold. Again, do it, if the Lord moves you, but food can rot and gold be stolen. These things can be blessing and provision, but they are not the answer.

Jesus tells the parable of the foolish and wise virgins waiting for the bridegroom in the night. All are asleep, and wake up when the message arrives that the bridegroom is coming. All begin to get their lamps ready, but five have no oil, no fuel. They were waiting but not ready. I think that this may apply to most of us. We are waiting, but asleep. And we are not ready. We have not learned how to depend on God rather than the world. We howl when a privilege like tax-deductibility is threatened, but remain silent when hypocrisy in our local churches demean the Name of God. We have not learned how to care for one another let alone lay our lives down for one another. When serious difficulties come, it may be too late to decide we were not prepared. We are waiting for Jesus to return, but not ready to live for Him now.

Matthew 25:1 "Then the kingdom of heaven shall be likened to ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2 Now five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 3 Those who were foolish took their lamps and took no oil with them, 4 but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5 But while the bridegroom was delayed, they all slumbered and slept. 6 And at midnight a cry was heard: 'Behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out to meet him!' 7 Then all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.' 9 But the wise answered, saying, 'No, lest there should not be enough for us and you; but go rather to those who sell, and buy for yourselves.' 10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding; and the door was shut. 11 Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open to us!' 12 But he answered and said, 'Assuredly, I say to you, I do not know you.' 13 Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of Man is coming.

2010-02-06T10:34:00.001-05:00

The Forest AND the Trees: The Good News (part 5)

It seems to me that I most often hear the Gospel of John quoted, especially in regards to sharing the good news. "You must be born again;" ' For God so loved the world;" "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly;" and "I am the way, and the truth, and the life ; no one comes to the Father but through Me" are rightly quoted often. But they are relational verses--verses that allow me to see myself from God's perspective. I, and all the individuals around me, can each be a "tree" in God's forest. That's great news, but by itself, it is the story of each tree. Other parts of the Bible give the perspective of seeing the "forest" rather than the individual.

Matthew is often a "big picture" account of the good news rather than focusing on the individual seeker. Early in the gospel, as Jesus' ministry is beginning in earnest, he writes: "Jesus was going throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom. He speaks about the kingdom of God in over fifty verses. John does it in about three. Simply put, the kingdom of God is Jesus, as king, and those whom He rules. Being part of that kingdom is what we're told to seek first. It's the pearl that we should sell everything we possess in order to purchase. It's the tiny mustard seed that grows to be huge.

The possibility of being a part of God's rule, being transferred from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of God's dear son, is good news. Those that He rules get to enjoy Him for all eternity. Within His borders are protection and provision. In His garden are productivity and fruitfulness. Being under His rule gives unity and common purpose to all the divergent trees and allows then to become a forest.

Individual salvation is essential, but it's not what we are commanded to seek first. Forgiveness of sins makes it possible to have fellowship with a holy God, but it's not the thing for which I sell everything to purchase. Those things are among the individual elements that make up the larger picture. They are trees that make up the forest.

Preaching the good news of the kingdom focuses on Jesus as King. Jesus as King rules His followers and gives all that is necessary for them to obey and productively work together for the King's benefit. Preaching the good news of salvation focuses on Jesus as Savior. Jesus as Savior forgives sins and saves us from the judgement we deserve. Announcing salvation while neglecting to proclaim the rule of God gives those who believe permission to go to heaven but no power to obey and be changed on this earth.

I want to go to heaven, but I also want to be productive. And I don't just want to be productive. I long to be part of what God has been doing since the beginning of time. I may be a little tree, but I'm part of a big forest. To me, that's incredibly good news!

Matthew 13:45 "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, 46 and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

2010-01-30T22:32:00.001-05:00

Marketing and the Good News: The Good News (part 4)

My friend Bruce told me about his new sports car. He was excited. I was jealous. He told me a bit about the history of the particular model he bought. Initially, sales were flat, but that all changed when the price was raised. He said the price increase was not about costs, but marketing. Then perception of the car, according to him, changed. When it was priced too low in comparison with its competitors, it was considered "cheap" rather than inexpensive. But when the price was raised, consumers found it desirable, and sales greatly increased. It must have worked. Even though Bruce understood the ploy, he wanted one and bought it.

A few years later, when I had a small, struggling, remodeling business, I remembered what Bruce told me. I raised my rates significantly and I got a lot more business, Previously, my rates had been very low. I thought I needed to do that to "get my foot in the door" in establishing my business. I finally realized that if a family wanted their kitchen remodeled, being able to trust a contractor to value their home, possessions, and even their well being was vitally important. With this in mind, they often didn't look to the cheapest price. In fact, a cheap price made them wary.

I believe the same thing applies to sharing the Good News. With the best of intentions, the Gospel is made easy and inexpensive. A few easy steps and your sins are forgiven. Then you begin a personal relationship with God. Most of us would be wary of buying a Rolex watch from a man with a dozen watches on his arm, standing on a city street corner. And the world is wary of us when we try to "sell" good news when nothing of substance is required in return.

Of course, we can't earn or buy salvation, but Jesus often made it clear that it was costly. It requires an exchange of all that we hold dear to gain something much better. The rich young man came running to Jesus and wanted the secret of eternal life. Obedience to the rules was discussed and rejected as being insufficient. Jesus then told him to sell everything, give to the poor, and he would have heavenly treasure. THEN follow Him.

The man was unwilling to pay the cost but understood the value. As he left, neither was in doubt. The cost is his (and my) everything--my possessions, perspectives, and passions. The value received is His Everything--His Provision, Wisdom, Love, and Life Forever.

Marketing that manipulates often produces a sale immediately and buyer's remorse later because the cost or product is not accurately portrayed. Whether in the marketplace or in the church, it's the same. Unfortunately, we often understate the cost and misstate the benefits. That doesn't result in a good retention rate or in good "referrals".

Perhaps, Jesus made it clear that the cost was high both because it was true, and also because He knew people instinctively equate cost with value. If it's cheap, it's of little value. The gospel is neither.

Matthew 19:20 The young man said to Him, "All these things I have kept; what am I still lacking?" 21 Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be complete, go and sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me."

2010-01-25T12:40:00.003-05:00

The Cabbage Patch Gospel: The Good News (part 3)

I remember asking my mom where babies from. I hadn't learned anything from the media. Little kids didn't learn about the "facts of life" and matters of gender specific health issues on TV in those days. Probably no parent is ever really prepared for The Question, but my mom gave it her best shot. She told me that God gives a baby to a woman and man when they love each other. I thought a lot about it. It raised several questions in my young mind. But...? How...?

The answer was appropriate for a preschooler, but not very satisfying in the long term. What she told me was true, but not entirely accurate. It reminds me of how I first heard the gospel presented when I was 13. The gist of it was that I was I sinner and that I could come forward, ask for forgiveness, and invite Jesus into my heart. It stirred me, and at the second hearing a week later, I responded, went forward, prayed, and began my walk with Jesus. I absolutely stand by that decision. I am so grateful that the Lord met me that day!

But, as I began to read the gospels on my own and ask questions, I became concerned. I found no example of anyone who initially experienced God in the same way I did. Gradually, I reached the conclusion that the "Plan of Salvation" that I was given was true, but not entirely accurate. It was the "Cliff Note" version. It hit many of the high points, but lacked content. It was appropriate for a child, but not satisfying for an adult. Very often, though, something very similar is all that is presented. And unfortunately, what I sometimes hear is more like the cabbage patch version of the facts of life. In that answer to The Question, the parent says, "We went to the cabbage patch, found you, chose you, and brought you home." It's a fairy tale.

Christians have fairy tales, too. "Give Jesus a chance." "Start coming to church and your problems will get better." "Ask Jesus into your heart and you'll go to heaven." It seems clear to me that the disciples didn't give Jesus a chance. He gave them a chance to follow Him. I find no promise that love for Christ diminishes problems. In fact, He says quite the opposite, but we have His Peace and His Presence in the midst of them. And I believe Jesus said something about not everyone who says "Lord, Lord"--the right words--will enter the kingdom, but the one who obeys will enter.

The computer geeks say, "Garbage in; Garbage out!" meaning what you get out of your computer can't be better that what's put in. In sharing the gospel, it's no different. If you give a no-cost gospel, you'll get a believer who places low value on his commitment. If you give a simplistic gospel, you'll reap those who mistake platitudes for character. If you give the cabbage patch gospel, the harvest will be those who can't separate the truth from a fable.

Mark 8:34 Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 35 For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. 36 What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? 37 Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? 38 If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels."

2010-01-21T14:05:00.000-05:00

Men Without Chests The Good News (part 2)

Isaiah 30:20...He, your Teacher will no longer hide Himself, but your eyes will behold your Teacher. 21 Your ears will hear a word behind you, "This is the way, walk in it," whenever you turn to the right or to the left.

Much of what we teach in the Church is true, but is propaganda. Propaganda is the presentation of facts, true or false, meant to manipulate, to achieve a desired goal. In the Church when this happens, that goal is allegiance to a specific presentation of these facts. The Biblical goal, as I understand it, is becoming new creations, free individually and corporately to serve and worship God.

I remember sitting by Allen in the second grade, or at least I remember one particular day. The teacher had been teaching us simple addition. Much of it required memorization. What does 2+2 equal? On that day, we each received a mimeographed paper with 100 of those arithmetic problems to be completed in so many minutes. I loved school because I was good at it. The test was a game to me. Not so for Allen. About half way through the test, Allen laid his head on his desk and sobbed. The teacher didn't come to Allen, didn't put her hand on his shoulder, didn't whisper comfort in his ear. The teacher failed to achieve the desired outcome. Allen did not pass the test. Allen didn’t sob because he failed the arithmetic test, he sobbed because he failed to pass a much more important test. He failed to become like the teacher and those who could fulfill her expectations. Inability to assimilate facts and regurgitate them upon command relegated him to being separate from the teacher and most of rest of us. My next clear memory of him is many years later. I can still see him standing around with the worst that our town had to offer. The sobbing boy became a hardened young man with others like him.

C.S. Lewis wrote an essay that he called "Men Without Chests." It's about the result of teaching so as to achieve an outcome rather than teaching the student so as to prepare him to function along side of the teacher. Outcome based education, obviously, believes that the Educator can program the student to achieve the desired result by giving the proper input. Whether that outcome is ultimately good or bad, the process is still propaganda. Lewis uses the analogy of a mother bird leading a chick to become a mature bird, showing by example. She initiates the chick into becoming what she is. He contrasts this with the gamekeeper, or farmer, who manages that chick to achieve his own ends, ends that are unknowable to the chick. Knowledge, true or false, given so as to achieve an outcome is propaganda and produces men without chests, men with knowledge but not hearts. Lewis uses "chest" as a metaphor for those attributes we must admire. Courage. Honor. Honesty. These qualities and all the others that help us rise above instinct and self-preservation are not gained from facts. They are gained through others, whether teacher, parent, mentor, or friend, as they take time and invest in us. They initiate us into being fully human in the way God intended.

The goal that day in second grade was good. When the check-out attendant at the drug store gave me the wrong change the other day, being able to do the math in my head quickly was an asset. It's obviously true that knowledge and how to use it is important, but it's even more important how that knowledge is passed on. Is the teacher a gamekeeper who is entirely different from us, or is he one of us, coming along side of us, showing us how to be human?

The gospel can be true propaganda, knowledge shared to produce the desired outcome of conformity to that knowledge. Such propaganda produces a puppet conformed to the puppeteer, a caricature of the real.

The real gospel is shown and shared, and initiates us to being fully human as new creations. And seeing Him, and others trying to imitate Him, we become like Him, Men with chests; men and women with their hearts of stone replaced by hearts of flesh.

Ezekiel 36:26 “Moreover, I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.

Matthew 1:23'.,.and they will call him Immanuel"--which means, "God with us."

2 Corinthians 3:18 But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image.

2010-01-20T13:26:00.000-05:00

The Medium is the Message: The Good News (part 1)

I could not invite my co-workers to our worship.

My local church is precious to me. The people who comprise it are followers of Christ and lovers of the people around them. Many have sacrificially given of time, talent, and resources to help me and others in times of need. Love for truth and doing our best to practice it are hallmarks of our people. Our times of gathering as a local body are characterized by effective, accurate teaching of God's Word and heartfelt worship. The things that follow must have that backdrop or they will not be seen in perspective.

I have been thinking about my co-workers. The Lord put it on my heart to pray for them and I was trying to take that seriously. So I thought about who these men were. I thought about things that they had told me about their children, grandchildren, and wives. I thought about good things they had done, about bad things. I thought about their work ethic. I thought about their love of sports, hunting, fishing and doing work well. And most of all, I thought about their love for their families. They did hard work, made hard choices, and made hard sacrifices to care for those they loved. They bore the cost of being men with a certain pride and honor. Coarse language and crude suggestions often filled the air as they talked, but that describes them, not defines them. They are men who defined themselves by what they did. They are men who are good neighbors, good friends, and who try to be good dads and husbands. It seems to me that they are not unlike Jesus' disciples, workaday men doing their best---and often failing in ways that would be humorous if not so painful.

I've listened to these guys and spoken when it was right to speak about God. To my knowledge, none of them is a follower of Jesus. I considered asking them to visit our local church, and I couldn't. The things that outwardly describe us as we meet could be called our "package." This package that the gift of God comes wrapped in often hides its incredible worth instead of making it more desirable. The package--sitting in pews, listening with no interaction, nice clothes instead of work clothes, and seemingly nothing real to accomplish-becomes a present that many would not want to unwrap, regardless of the content.

Some time ago, a pop culture guru proclaimed, "The medium is the message!" The messenger is also the message. The means, or person, that brings the message impacts the recipient as much or more than the actual message. If I present the good news through the means of inviting a man to sit in a pew with me, he is going to perceive that sitting in a pew is at least a portion of that good news. For many, that would not be good news at all.

Jesus' invitation was consistently to a lifestyle of activity. Our clarion call is to passionately, obediently follow Him; to a belief defined by action. This was the "hook" that caught Peter. Peter had fished all night and caught nothing. He and his partners had come back to shore as Jesus was teaching. As the crowds pushed close, Jesus commandeered Peter's boat and used it as His pulpit. After the teaching was done, Jesus told Peter how and where to cast the nets again. In spite of weariness and doubt, Peter did as he was told. The resulting great catch led Peter to tell Jesus to leave him because he was sinful. Jesus didn't press him to make a "decision" for Christ, or to come to the next teaching, He said, "Follow Me." And as He did, He gave him a task and a promise. The key to Peter's heart was the promise of productivity. As Jesus caught him, Peter would capture others. Peter was captivated by the message and wanted to be like the messenger. The medium was the message.

If we can learn how to corporately live and worship like this, perhaps our local churches will once again be filled with workaday men and women as we invite them to productivity not passivity.

Matthew 4:19 “Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men."

2010-01-12T14:20:00.004-05:00

Right Principle + Wrong Motivation =Stumbling Block
Church Without Walls (part 3)

Isaiah 57:14 ... "Build up, build up, prepare the road! Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people."

My father hated the Church, but loved God. He and my mother taught me to pray, but he may have prayed I would never be active in church. I know he was bitterly disappointed when as a teenager, I started going to church.

The single strongest factor for my dad's attitude towards the church was an experience he had as a child. His father died, leaving my grandmother alone with three children. Those were very different days with no social safety nets and perspectives about single mothers that would make us cringe. They were deemed incapable of working while caring for children.

My grandmother was part of a local church that cared about her needs, but acted on their concern in an uncaring way. Their "solution" was to take my father and his brother and sister away from their mother so they could be properly cared for. My grandmother's solution was to leave their little town in the middle of the night to escape the church's concept of care. My father spent the rest of his life trying to continue that escape.

Just a handful of misguided individuals were used as building blocks in the wall that my father started to build to keep the church out of his life. They were his mantra, his excuse for his negative labels he heaped on the church. They likely had no idea of the hurt they inflicted, and probably thought they had been rejected for their service to God.

It's unavoidable that each of us, in spite of good intentions, will sometimes do or say things that become a barrier to others following Christ. Perhaps the key to avoiding most of these painful situations, though, is simply asking questions. "How can we help, Mrs. Jackson?" would have been a way to show real compassion. "We'll take your children because we know that's the best way to help you." shows arrogance. They took a right principle, caring for the widow and orphan, and mixed it with wrong motivation. Right principle applied with wrong motivation produces bad fruit and makes stumbling blocks. When someone, like my father, trips over a stumbling block and is lying on the ground right next to that block, that stumbling block looks big enough to be a wall.

We must be careful to make a way, not a wall, for those around us.

Matthew 18:4 "Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 "And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me; 6 but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

2010-01-09T17:22:00.005-05:00

The Klostermeier Effect: Church Without Walls (part 2)

There was a dark time in our lives when we saw the light of Christ in a very unexpected way. We were in inner city Toledo, living in and rehabbing a 5000 square foot duplex that had been vacant for five years. Drug dealers, prostitutes, and drive by shootings were part of our lives. Our income was much the same as our poverty stricken neighbors.

During this same time, we were involved in a church that proved to be as dangerous as our neighborhood. In the midst of some overwhelming family difficulties, it was clear that those with our type of wounds were not welcome. Indeed, our continued presence was no longer requested or desired. I lost my taste for church, but my wife wanted very much to get reconnected immediately. She found a listing in the Yellow Pages that looked inviting to her, and we went to The Church of the Cross.

It was immediately clear that this was the right place for us. The people loved us, and helped us start the healing process. We became part of a small group that helped and encouraged one another in following Christ in the real world.

Meanwhile, back at the duplex....The local drug dealer, who was a 60 year old grandfather, had told me, "You know houses can burn, don't you?" after I had asked the city to tow away the junk car parked on the street. Little did I know that he was storing their drugs in the car. Later, after they threatened to beat up a friend of mine unless we gave them money, we knew it was time to leave. We decided on that Saturday night at 11 pm that we had to move immediately.

The next morning at church, during the prayer request time, I privately told the pastor of our needs. He asked if he could share it with the congregation. As he did, a middle-aged couple listened with compassion. Individually, they each had conviction that they should make a house that they had recently inherited available to us without any rent until we could get back on our feet. Tom came to me afterwards, introduced himself and made their incredible offer. We moved two days later with the help of our small group.

Some time later, I had opportunity to speak to Tom and ask him about his motivation. He shared with me that a few years previously, he had gone through a business failure and bankruptcy. But as God met him in his need, he had been overtaken by compassion for others. He and his wife gave to us in our need because God had given to him in their need.

God changed me through Tom Klostermeier. Ever since that time, I have called that process the Klostermeier Effect. Giving of self and possessions extravagantly because you are needy yourself changes others and they in turn pass it on. It helps build a community of people not divided by the need; a church without walls.

2 Corinthians 1:3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. 5 For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.

2010-01-03T18:30:00.003-05:00

The Visitor: Church Without Walls (part one)

Some years ago, I was involved with new church. It had rapid initial growth due to real opportunity to experience community, vibrant worship, and great teaching. It attracted both committed Christians desiring a deeper level of experiencing God and seekers. Sometimes this mixture produces awkward situations. Seekers, by definition, are seeking solutions to their difficulties, and bring their sin with them as they come. This can cause discomfort to those who are accustomed to being around those who at least put up a pretense of acting "christian."

I remember one particularly painful moment. A young seeker was visiting again. He had made no secret of being gay. I saw my friend, who knew the visitor better than I did, speaking to him. My friend soon came over to me and informed me that he had told the gay man to not come back again until he had stopped homosexual relationships. My friend thought he had done well.

Most of the time, we are not this direct. But whether we communicate with words or attitude, sinful seekers know if they are welcome. I've often heard the phrase, "Hate the sin; love the sinner." I understand the sentiment, but it leaves me unsatisfied. I know that I can love a person that I really don't want to spend time with. I can be committed to his good and will do what's in my power to assist him in time of need, but I really don't want spend an evening with him. He may bore me. He may annoy me with his opinions about politics. I love him, but I really don't like him. He is a relative, or an acquaintance, but he will never be a friend. I can love the sinner, sincerely wanting the best for him, but still want no real personal connection with him.

Jesus never minced words about sin, yet he was different than me. In Luke 7:34, He reported what those who hated Him were saying about Him:

The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, 'Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and "sinners." '

He not only loved the sinners, he liked them. He spent time with them as a friend.

May the same be said of me and you.

2009-12-31T10:35:00.003-05:00

Looking for the Church?

At Christmas time, I often see cards depicting a snow covered rural church with its lights shining, inviting me to join them for a simple, but profoundly meaningful, candlelight service on Christmas Eve. For me personally, being drawn to the country, this is what I want the to see the Church. I long for a life uncluttered by noise, traffic, and busyness. I want the Church to reflect my desires.
What does your imagination and dreams make the Church to be? Do you see grand spires reaching the heavens? A large, modern building, bustling with people and activity? An old urban building opening it's doors to feed the needy? A group of people dressed in their best, singing as the choir and organ lead? Or sandels,sneakers and blue jeans moving in tempo to guitars and drums? Or do you see common theology and practices of communion, baptism, and church government?

If I had masterminded the Bible, I would have done it much differently. It would have given clear outlines, in order of priority, of what God expected. Instead of that, God's Word is primarily a record of God's interaction with His people. In that interaction, we find His commands, His consequences for obedence and disodedience, His grace, and His face. Paul, Isaiah, and others make grand statements of theology, but the context is always God interacting with people. Rules apart from realtionships always produce pharisees. My way would have only resulted in rule followers, not God seekers.
You will look in vain for a defintion of the Church in the Bible. You will find descriptions, promises, and stories. Let's look at the first story in Mark about the Church. Open yourself to look at a familar story differently.

Mark 2:1 A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. 2 So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. 3 Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. 4 Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. 5 When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
The story in Mark teaches many lessons. Perhaps the most obvious is making clear that Jesus forgives and makes whole as only God can do. But going beyond that, it teaches us the importance of seeking God together.

Let’s look at the people involved who were seeking help and seeing what we can learn from them. Five men: four healthy and one paralyzed. Connected with a common purpose—getting to Jesus. The ones who were able didn’t need help, and the one who needed help was unable. This is a parable of the Church.

What we normally call the Church is a group of individual believers who happen to be in the same place at the same time. There is a unity, but for many, it doesn’t extend beyond a common geography, a common time, and at least a partially common theology. Unity that becomes community is optional. It is not a primary foundational commitment, second only to loyalty to God Himself. Individuals fail and fall because there is not an unshakable commitment to the common good, to community.

Do you want to live as an individual, alone, succeeding or failing alone? These five men in Mark’s Gospel did not see that as an option. The paralyzed man or his friends had heard that Jesus was back home. Hope stirred in them! Hope! Perhaps the crippled man had a wife and children that had depended on him until he lost the ability to move. Perhaps, because of his infirmity, he had never married and was dependant on family to care for him. But whatever his personal circumstances, it was devastating to not only him, but also to those who loved him. But now, others didn’t just hurt with him, they hoped with him! So the four men took their friend to the house where Jesus was.

Or they tried to, because those others seeking to be near Jesus got there first. The house was filled to the point that newly come seekers couldn’t even get close, let alone get in. If I had been one of those five men, I would have given up. “We tried, didn’t we?” I’d ask. “That’s all anyone can do.” But those men weren’t like me. Somehow, the four friends not only got up on the roof themselves, but they got their crippled friend up there, too.

What you think the bystanders were thinking and saying? “They’re nuts! An embarrassment! What will Jesus think of this foolishness? They’re all going to get hurt! Who’s going to repair the roof? There's a storm coming!

But the four were undeterred. Once up on the roof, they proceeded to dig a hole through it, and lowered their friend down. I wonder who brought the rope. Undoubtedly, debris was falling down on the people below, including Jesus. Jesus looked at them (plural—all five), and then told the paralytic that his sins were forgiven. After further conversation with the outraged bystanders, Jesus also healed the man.

Can you to identify with the four friends? Who do you know that desperately needs to get to Jesus? What needs does he or she has make it impossible to get to the One Who can help? Sin. Discouragement. Depression. Grief. Pain. Infirmity. Are you going to hurt for them and pray from a distance, or are you committed to be with them in their mess. Are you willing to not only help your friend, but enlist others? Are you willing to carry your friend when he would go on, but can’t? Are you willing to look defeat in the eye, and say, “No! We will not turn back until we reach Jesus! Jesus can say no, but until I hear from Him, I’m not going to stop.” Are you willing to do the unorthodox, to dig through a roof, to be loyal to your friend?

We will not see the Church until we say, “Yes!”

Can you also identify with the paralyzed man? You are desperately needy, but you hate imposing. You hate being weak. You know the thing to do, but it’s beyond you. You don’t want the label. Alcoholic. Addict. Gossiper. Angry. Damaged. Depressed. Poor. Sick. Jobless. Sometimes the only way to find help is to share a mutual dependency with friends. An embarrassing dependency! Are you willing to be humble, to be weak, and to need those around you?

We will not see the Church that Jesus would build until we say, “Yes!”

2009-12-28T19:37:00.001-05:00

The Stain
A Parable of the Church

“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.

“The usual, Tommy..”

Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim. Without another word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.

Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.

George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.

Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, “For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I’ve seen on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”

David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...

For Ralph, it was one of those moments when memories fast-forwarded in his mind. In an instant, months and years were relived. The compressed file, the one called pain, was accessed. Its contents were viewed in his countenance. Then he remembered why he was here. He smiled.

Ralph had had a secret, or had tried to have a secret. His heart had been deeply pieced with pain. It became infected, and rottenness had oozed out. An ugly stain had covered his heart, and that stain had bled through for all to see. He had tried to cover it with anger. Unfortunately, it was as unconvincing as a comb over. The only one fooled was Ralph.

There are unexpected moments that define a life. A word of praise for extraordinary effort can make a whole life extraordinary. An unguarded gaze passing from a father to a child, revealing shame, can infect a life with shame. Ralph could still see his father’s face after “the incident.” It was his earliest memory. In his countenance, he saw love with borders too small to contain mistakes. He couldn’t see his mother’s face because it had been hidden behind her hands. She didn’t see him reaching out for her, didn’t hear him crying. But he heard her sobbing. He could still hear her sobbing. He didn’t know what he had done wrong or why it was wrong. So he knew that it was he himself who was wrong. When she finally looked at him, it was the same way she looked at the stained sheets after an “accident.”

The next day at Faith Church, in the big sanctuary with small boundaries, the white haired man who loved to shout was getting started. Ralph could still hear his mother whispering, ‘“Don’t talk!” “Don’t squirm!” “Sit up straight!” “Don’t make me more ashamed!”’ as the shouting man railed against addicts and Democrats. Ralph hated it as much as the Shouting Man seemed to hate everyone not in the room. Why did the man shout so much? As Ralph was trying to ask to be taken to the bathroom, he remembered his father putting his big hands over his mouth. He remembered becoming very frightened when he couldn’t breathe.

After the shouting and singing was over, Ralph’s father told the preacher he needed to talk with him. As his father started, the Shouting Man first looked as if someone had kicked him in the shin. And then it seemed like a mask covered his face as he nodded. The Shouting Man gathered four or five other men in a circle in the corner and they whispered together. All Ralph heard was “black heart.” Perhaps their whispers were magnetized shouts intended to attract gossiping eyes because everyone’s gaze was on the men in the corner. Ralph’s black, stained heart broke and leaked all over the floor. At least something spread on the floor beneath his feet, staining the red carpet. Fear separated him from everyone in the room, and he became its prisoner. After that everything, everyone was different. And at three, he didn’t yet know the word ‘lonely,’ but if anyone knew what it meant, he did.

The Bible says, “Give and it shall be given unto you.” Undoubtedly, this is not what the shouting man was thinking about when he gave Ralph hatred. But Ralph gave back what was given. The shouting man didn’t call it hatred, of course. He called it ‘concern.’ Others needed to ‘pray’ about it and they couldn’t pray if they didn’t know all the details. All the details, whether they were true or not, were spread through the church. In a few years, a few of the boys from Sunday School, began to call him him some of the names they had heard their parents use when they were warned not to play with him. As a kindness, perhaps, Ralph began to do some of the things that others said he had done. He wouldn’t want them to be liars, would he?

So there were more “incidents.” And each added to his legacy. He fulfilled all their wildest words. And it gave the Shouting Man something else to shout about. Days, months, and years passed. The day finally came when Ralph’s father commanded him to get in the car to go to church, and Ralph said, “No, thank you.” Or maybe his words were a bit stronger. He vowed he would never go back. No one really seemed unhappy with that decision.

Life from there was predictable for Ralph. Not good, but predictable. At least it was predictable until another incident occurred. But this incident was very different. Ralph was in the alley behind Tommy’s Place losing the liquid that he had taken too freely, too deeply. As it happened, the Shouting Man was walking by on the adjacent street. Older, but with undaunted distain, he made eye contact with Ralph as he was raising his stained face. The man shook his head, shouting silently, and walked on. As Ralph staggered towards his car, another man walked by. He looked on as Ralph struggled to get his key in the lock. He began to walk closer, but not too close. He knew when a man needed room.

“Need some help?”

Ralph mumbled something while continuing trying to insert the key in the moving lock.

“Let me give you a ride.”

Ralph tried to respond, but no recognizable words came out. But the man understood what wasn’t said and helped Ralph into the car.

On the way, without warning, Ralph again felt the need to have less alcohol in his unhappy stomach. Stains now covered the front of his shirt over his heart and the man’s car. “Sorry,” Ralph tried to say, but the bile was backing up again. The man looked at Ralph and Ralph cringed. Not outwardly, but deep inside he pulled back. He had seen the Bible on the seat. He knew what that meant, didn’t he.

The man began to reach across the car. This time Ralph really did cringe. The hand came closer and sobriety came closer too. As the car slowed, Ralph expected to be pushed out, as he had so many times before. The hand came closer. It came to rest on Ralph’s shoulder. “It’s just a car. It’s not really important. When you’re feeling better maybe you’d like to hear about what is important. Really important. I stopped so I could write my phone number down for you.” The man wrote it on a scrap of paper and slipped it into Ralph’s pocket. Ralph didn’t remember it until the next day. He took his shower with his clothes still on to get the worst of the mess off. He was absently checking his pockets before throwing them in the corner, with other clothes that looked and smelled much the same. He pulled the soaked paper out and left it on the counter by the piles of pizza boxes and balled up bags of meals long since forgotten.

Later that same morning, he rushed out the door on his way to work. He always made it to work. Maybe late. Maybe hung over. But Ralph realized that no work meant no money and no money meant no booze and no booze meant no relief from the pain that consumed his soul. If someone like him had a soul.

When he got outside, he saw no car. Since he really didn’t remember much about last night, he was afraid. Was there another accident? Then vague visions filled his mind. A stranger. A ride. Being sick. Being helped into his apartment. Then blessed blackness. Now he remembered! As he began walking, the rain began, too. Foul thoughts, foul words and foul weather were on his day’s agenda. As he walked, a car pulled up along side of him. “Need a ride?” called out an almost familiar voice. The voice from last night. Ralph almost said no, but it began raining harder. He’d be late, and the boss was running out of patience. Reluctantly, he got in. As he closed the car door, he was also closing himself so the ridicule would not penetrate. The Shouting Man had a least taught him how to protect himself.

Ralph waited. Condemnation had to be coming. Or condescension. People carrying Bibles always carried those to give out with their tracts. The man coughed slightly, as people do when it’s hard to get words out. Ralph cringed, waiting for the tirade. Instead, the man simply asked, “Where ya need to go?”

“Construction site at 3rd and Main,” Ralph muttered.

“Need a ride after work to get your car?”

“That’d be fine,” Ralph said before he even thought. “Now I’ve done it,” he muttered to himself.

As the day progressed, Ralph’s hangover gradually diminished. But as the hangover lessened his thirst increased. Between that and apprehension about the coming condemnation, he was in a foul mood. But when the 12 pack appeared at quitting time, Ralph’s good humor reappeared, too. And with the appearing beer, the memory of the ride disappeared. The man waited out front as the workers left. He looked sad as he finally drove away. As Ralph staggered out, he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the man wiping a tear from his eye. That tear washed the away the soil burying Ralph’s secret, and that secret emerged from its grave. It staggered out, revealing the sad ugliness. Loneliness wrapped in fear emerged from the darkness, an undead vampire ready to again drink his life blood. Ralph struck the stake of denial in his heart, and laid his secret back in its grave.

Ralph saw the man from a distance several times in the next weeks, but he was always able to avoid him. Ralph couldn’t avoid thinking about him, however. The memory of the hand brushing back a tear haunted him. He had steeled himself against criticism. Indifference was harder, but he could handle it. Hatred didn’t affect him at all. Anger gave him strength. But tears for him! Even his mother hadn’t cried for him, she had only cried because she was ashamed of him. Her tears were like a flash flood that had carried away the last of his humanity. As he had reached out for hands to rescue him, the torrent of her tears had washed him away. Ralph began the long walk to Tommy’s to find blessed oblivion once again.

As the weeks passed, Ralph almost succeeded in forgetting the man. The only time he had a problem was late at night when the “anesthesia” wore off before the morning came. This was one of those nights. He had given up trying to sleep and sat on the porch. He had no “anesthesia” left and no money either. All he had was time and pain. He went in to get a drink of water and saw the note that had been lying on the counter with his life’s debris. He picked it up and tried to straighten it. Surprisingly, it was still legible. All it said was, “If you ever need someone, I’m here. Call me anytime. Your friend.” A phone number was at the bottom. Another stain was added to the note as a tear fell from Ralph’s eye and landed on the wrinkled paper. “Haven’t done that since I was three. What’s wrong with me?” It seemed as if someone else’s finger was dialing the number, but the scars and nicotine stains on the fingers were his own.

“Can you come?” he said without prelude when the call was answered on the fourth ring.

“I’m on my way. That’s what friends do”

Ralph talked that night more than he had since he was a little boy. His friend listened. Finally as dawn was peeking in the window, Ralph quietly asked the question that was screaming inside of him. “Why?”

“My friend told me that what I did for the most helpless, I was doing for Him. Actually, He said “the least of these,” but I like to put it in my own words so I understand better. He did the same thing Himself. He went looking for those who were hurting--like you. Would you like to hear some more?”

Ralph heard some more. He heard about a man who wasn’t welcomed by the shouting men of His time. He heard about how lies and gossip were spread about Him, too. He heard about how He was left to suffer alone so that no one would ever have to be alone again. He heard about how God’s rule gave boundaries set by love, not by fear and condemnation. He discovered that God’s boundaries are there to hold you close, like the mother’s embrace he had always longed for, but never received. Until that moment he had only known the prison of Fear’s barbed wire barriers. He had bloodied himself on those barbs of alcohol, drugs, and condemnation as he tried to find freedom. He knew he could never break through. That night Ralph found that a Man had laid His body over those barbs to allow Fear’s captives release, inviting even Ralph to use Him as a bridge to freedom.

Ralph relished his new life! He looked for a place to live out what he had experienced. He even visited Faith Church, but somehow, stained glass didn’t seem to fit with a stained heart. Oh, his heart wasn’t stained by his failures anymore, but it was stained with Another’s blood. Stained floors fit with stained hearts. Besides, when Ralph visited Faith Church, his work jeans and tee shirt were not as comfortable as they had been an hour before. As he walked in, it seemed as if he had passed through a check point designed to keep out the “unacceptable.” His jeans and tee shirt didn’t make the cut. Neither did he. God had found him in back of Tommy’s Place, with his jeans. Maybe God could use him to find stained hearts in stained jeans at Tommy’s. He would go into places where the Kingdom of Fear had a grip on men’s hearts, and where they weren’t afraid to admit it. He would be a secret messenger carrying hope to the helpless, like himself…..

“I need a drink,” Ralph thought to himself as he walked into Tommy’s Place.

“The usual, Tommy.”

Tommy, knowing exactly what was wanted and what was needed, filled Ralph’s glass nearly to the brim with 7-Up. Without a word, Ralph’s money was put on the bar, taken, change offered and refused. Just like every day. Just at this same time.

Tommy smiled. Ralph nodded. He walked across the floor, stained with years of life. Then he sat at the table by the picture, the faded picture of Pete Rose stealing Home. Others nodded to Ralph in acknowledgment. A couple of men began making their way to his table, their table. One, then another, came in and had their everyday transactions with Tommy, before coming to the table.

George, talkative as usual, started the conversation. “My crew broke ground for that big addition to Faith Church today. We’ll be there for months. I hope it works out better than the last job we did for them. Lord knows we need the work, but we don’t need the aggravation. All day long, people come by and tell us what to do, but each one has a different idea...” George stopped in mid sentence as he saw the pain in Ralph’s eyes.

Jerry, not picking up on Ralph’s silent words, took the pause as an opportunity to jump in. “My Ex goes there. When I was picking up the kids for the week end, I couldn’t help hearing her talk to her friend about the ‘discussion’ of the decorating committee. At least three couples walked out of that meeting! And the lady who was trying to lead the committee ran out crying after one of the older ladies told her, in front of everyone, ‘For your own good, dear, you need to know that your decorating ideas for a church are not in very good taste. For a casino like I see on TV, maybe, but not for a church. I only say this to be honest.’”

David, putting his hand on Jerry’s arm, bent over and whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded, made eye contact with those at the table. His eyes met Ralph’s last. “Sorry Ralph. Sorry guys. I wasn’t thinking.” Several of the men nodded and a few seemed confused. Everyone waited for Ralph to speak...

“Let’s talk about Jesus,” Ralph said to the men with stained hearts. “Does He complain about how rotten we are? Does He spend all His time inside the walls people have made, or does He come looking for hurting, lonely people? Does He really want anything to do with a vomit smeared drunk like me? Or like you?”

2009-12-24T09:59:00.004-05:00

A recent major storm sent me out, with snow shovel in hand, to deal with a significant accumulation of ice and snow. As my neighbor and I were both shoveling our driveways, we would take an occasional break and chat. As we talked, I saw, with some jealousy, that his driveway was getting cleaned thoroughly, while I was settling for two single tracks. Freezing rain followed by six inches of snow was making it hard work and I was tired! My neighbor was too, and probably had others duties that demanded his attention. After he finished his driveway, he stopped shoveling. His sidewalk remained untouched.

My other next door neighbor gets out his snow blower every time there is a couple of inches of snow. After he takes care of his driveway and sidewalks, he continues on. I’ve often come home from work, ready to shovel, and the sidewalk has already been done. I believe that sometimes he even goes around the whole block, doing everyone’s public walk.

Both my neighbors are nice guys. Both speak to me. Both have done me favors. In fact, both are probably better neighbors than I am. But they have profoundly different ways of looking at the world. It reminds me of the story of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10.
25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" 26 "What is written in the Law?" he replied. "How do you read it?" 27 He answered: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" 28 "You have answered correctly," Jesus replied. "Do this and you will live." 29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" 30 In reply Jesus said: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.' 36 "Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?" 37 The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him." Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."

Jesus’ parable breaks the myth that a personal relationship with God is the only thing that really matters. To those who heard Jesus’ words, priests and Levites would be important people to their community, and a Samaritan would be someone to avoid as an outcast because he didn’t worship God in the “right way.” A priest had very specific duties given by God in the Temple. Without priests offering service and sacrifice, it was impossible for God to not reject His people because of their sin and uncleanness. Levites would have the privilege of serving God in the Temple as the Levites assistants. Very specific rules were given by God on how these things were to be done. Priests had been killed by God for not taking them seriously. These rules included being ritually clean through not touching a dead person, or one who had a discharge from an infected wound. The importance of these duties, and the importance of not being temporarily disqualified would have been clear to the listeners. They both had good reason to not get involved! The Law made this very clear. The man in story was half dead, and perhaps appeared dead. Or his wounds may have been oozing pus. The error of each was choosing personal faithfulness to God to the exclusion of compassion for his “neighbor.”

Jesus’ parables are meant to be uncomfortable. They are meant to stretch boundaries, and to show us our own hypocrisy. They are meant to make difficult concepts understandable. To me, shoveling driveways and sidewalks is a parable from God. It shows me truth about myself. It shows me what my real priorities are.

The following might be my thoughts, or yours:
“So what if I don’t want to shovel my sidewalk! I’m tired after shoveling my driveway and I’ve got things to do! So what if my driveway is much more important to me! I’m doing it for my wife! I am doing it so I can go to work! To church! I need to go to the grocery to get food for my family! I need to go to my friend’s house! He needs my help”

So what indeed. This is important because it shows how I look at those around me. Am I like the priest and Levite, so caught up in my importance, or the importance of my duties, that I avoid someone in need as a distraction? Or am I like the Samaritan who had spent a lifetime being an obstacle to those with a pure religion, and knew how he longed to be treated. Am I like the religious leaders in Jesus’ parable to whom status and responsibility were more important than the people in need around them? For me, I must ask the question that was asked of Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” Are the children going to the corner to catch the school bus my neighbors? Will they have to walk in the street, or can they use my sidewalk? What about the neighbor who walks her dog in front of my house? Am I limited to seeing my own needs, or do I see and respond to the needs of others? Am I an isolated individual, or am I a member of a community?
My neighbor with the snow blower sometimes shares something encouraging about our common faith, or shares interesting tidbits about his service at his local church. His words are not empty because I see how he treats his neighbor, me.

Some Hard Questions:
1. Who is your neighbor today?
2. What does God want you to do for him/her?
3. How are you like the priest and Levite?
4. How are you like the Samaritan?
5. Jesus tied inheriting eternal life to how you treat your neighbor. Are you comfortable with that? Why or why not?