Possibly the best book on leadership that I have read

It took me months to read all 790 pages (in part because I read very little during GUPY), but I finally finished Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin. This was an amazing biography that focused on Lincoln’s relationships with his cabinet, a group composed of men that he had defeated for the presidency.

As a leader, Lincoln was one of the best because of his ability to listen to people and understand the heart behind their words. He was slow to speak, even when angry, and had tremendous discernment about when to act and when to lay back. Often he would simply allow his enemies enough time and leeway to shoot themselves in the foot, and when they did, he was always gracious and forgiving to them on the other side of conflict. It was fascinating to watch his conviction about abolition of slavery grow and change over time; at first he was a bit ambivalent about it, but by his second term, he was convinced that this was an evil that had to go. Frederick Douglas was one of Lincoln’s early critics, but Lincoln developed a real friendship and relationship with him and welcomed Douglas freely to the White House and counted him a friend. This was very unusual at that time.

I learned from Lincoln how to make your point plain enough for everyone to understand – one of the marks of a good preacher is that everyone can see the truths of Scripture clearly, from the youngest to the oldest. Lincoln was intentional about putting political concepts and his heart’s passions into images and analogies that his audience could readily understand, and he practiced doing this even as a young boy. I also learned that forgiveness and openhandedness with enemies is essential in conflict. Lincoln never burned bridges, and he kept the good of the American people as his highest priority, over and above his reputation and his rights to be right. He won people’s hearts with humor and kindness, and he was beloved by the Union soldiers because he did not stand off from them. He would visit them in the front lines and in the hospitals, shaking hands and giving encouragement. A leader who led from the front.

It was also interesting to watch his faith evolve and deepen during the course of the Civil War, a war that wore him down physically and emotionally. He clung more and more to the truths of the Bible, and while Kearns painted Lincoln as more of an agnostic than a Christian, the evidence I see from his letters and speeches tells me differently.

I grew to love Lincoln over the course of the book, and as it drew to a close and I knew what was coming, I began to feel very sad, and when he died, I wept.

In Defense of Double Rainbow Guy

We are a culture who loves to laugh and mock, and I have joined millions of people in laughing at the "Double Rainbow Guy" (DRG) on YouTube for a few weeks now. I’ve been laughing at his excitement over the rainbow, wondering if he was high, laughing that anyone could be that excited about something so simple.

But this past week our church leaders studied Psalm 19, which begins with, “The heavens declare the glory of God. Day after day they pour forth speech, night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language in which their voice is not heard.”

I don’t think that DRG is a Christian, but I he is responding to the God of creation. He rejoices, he even seems to weep, and he asks, “What does it mean?” Creation and beauty are meant to point us to God, to seek Him, to wonder at our place in this vast world.

But the Psalm goes on to say that we can know God even more fully. We can learn not just that God makes pretty things in the sky but that He wants us to know His ways and to rejoice in His character and heart and commands. The secret to even more fullness of joy than even creation can provide is to read and respond to God’s written revelation in the Bible.

I, frankly, wish I were more like DRG, able to wonder at the beauty all around me and not move on quickly to the next appointment or beeping gadget. And I hope that in his search for “what it means” he finds the God who was calling his name through the beauty of creation.

(Click below to see an interview with DRG on Jimmy Kimmel LIVE)

Double Rainbow Guy "Bear" Vasquez on Jimmy Kimmel Live PART 1

Double Rainbow Guy "Bear" Vasquez on Jimmy Kimmel Live PART 2

HALT

There is an acronym that is really helpful in understanding why children are misbehaving– HALT. Often times, acting out comes because they are Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired, and getting to the root helps you treat the cause of the behavior instead of the behavior itself. Sometimes my kids need a nap more than a spanking.

I find HALT to be very accurate and helpful for me, too. I remember in college when I was having a grumpy day, my IV staff worker would say, “When’s the last time you ate?” Usually she was right on the money in seeing that I needed to eat.

The past few weeks, I have been at a full HALT, and I have not been interested in turning to the Lord with it. I have been hungry, both physically (due to strep) and spiritually (due to not spending time in Scripture). I have felt lonely, missing the GUPY students. I have been tired. And I have been angry, feeling like the visible results of our labors in Glenwood are very hard to see.

Thankfully, God by His grace has begun to renew my heart and my will to spend time with Him. Simply reading through the Gospels and soaking in the life and words of Jesus has been getting me moving again. My soul is being fed, and I am willing to trust God with what I cannot see, easing my anger. I am connecting with Diane and the kids and remembering the friends that God has given me, easing the loneliness. And I am slowly remembering to rest and go at a pace that is less than breakneck.

It’s been refreshing and encouraging to see that God’s Word really does bring life, really does restore my soul, and I feel that I am on the road to health.

One Step at a Time

We met “Tracy” this summer, a new woman walking the block of our neighborhood. She would be around for a few days, then gone for weeks. Last night she stopped by the backyard, and as  I talked with her, I learned that she worked the streets to feed her addiction and to feed her kids. She said that was why we didn’t see her for a while, because she would go home to her kids.

She asked us for some food, and I have to admit she had picked a great night to stop by and ask for a plate, because Diane had me grilling a London broil. Not wanting to give her a plate “to go” when we could possibly spend some time talking with her, I asked her if she would come in and eat with us, but she said she was high right then and didn’t want to be around our kids while she was in that state.

So she ate her steak on our porch and then was back on the streets, not ready for the change that we offered to help her make. My hope is that this small interaction will spur me and Diane to prayer, and that Tracy will know that there is a place to find help and meal, and ultimately the love of God. I also hope that my readers who are pray-ers will pray for her as well.

Weary

I can’t express how much I enjoyed the 2010 GUPY interns. They loved me, my family, and our neighborhood in really wonderful ways, and became a part of our lives and a part of our home. Having them leave at the end of July was like losing 9 partners in ministry, and Diane and I are still a little sad that they are gone.

At the same time, our summer has taken a toll on us. Regular rhythms of Sabbath and prayer, of exercise and rest, were replaced by the opportunity for constant fellowship and ministry. I have been out of my own bed for 25 of the past 63 nights. I think that spiritual warfare increases during GUPY, while sadly my prayer life and times with the Lord, just me and Him, decreased.

And so I hit the middle of August depleted in every way. I’ve lost about 10 pounds that I don’t have to give (thanks to Costa Rica, a erratic schedule, and strep throat), and I’ve lost some of my regular spiritual disciplines. I’ve not been to my favorite coffee shop in weeks and weeks . I have not been in my church office in three weeks, and waiting on me is a transition to a new position, heading up small group and discipleship at our church. Diane also went to Costa Rica, and since we have been home, has been single-handing it around the house thanks to my having IV team meeting and then my being sick.

It’s hard in the midst of weariness to remain hopeful. In fact, it’s at this precise time that the Enemy attacks, showing me all that “isn’t” and belittling all that “is.” Yet I need to remember that I didn’t get weary overnight, and neither will I recover by tomorrow morning. It takes time to reestablish good rhythms of work and rest, and it takes time to rebuild my soul and body. But the really good news is that my standing with God has not budged a bit through all of this. No matter my feelings of doubt and fear, no matter my lack of intentional times in the Bible, I have remained His Son. I can not be more “in Christ” than “in Christ.” And that is the start of refreshing my soul.

Not my summer poem

I chuckled when I read this poem about the lazy days of summer.  It sure does not describe my last 6 weeks.

    Let Me Live Grace-fully   by Ted Loder

Thank you, Lord,

for this season

     of sun and slow motion,

          of games and porch sitting,

               of picnics and light green fireflies

                    on heavy purple evenings;

and praise for slight breezes.

It's good, God,

as the first long days of your creation.

Let this season be for me

     a time of gathering together the pieces

          into which by busyness has broken me.

O God, enable me now

     to grow wise through reflection,

          peaceful through the song of the cricket,

               recreated through the laughter of play.

Most of all, Lord,

let me live easily and grace-fully for a spell,

     so that I may see other souls deeply,

          share in a silence unhurried,

               listen to the sound of sunlight and shadows,

                    explore barefoot the land of forgotten dreams and shy hopes,

                         and find the right words to tell another who I am.

Copyright © 1981 Ted Loder, Guerillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle (Minneapolis: Augsburg Press, 1981), p 131.

A place to call home (away from home)

This week my family had the gift of staying a couple of nights in the mountains at a home belonging to some friends from church. I can’t put into words how much I love the NC mountains, especially the Boone area, and it has been so nice to sit in the cool and quiet. The girls and I took a hike along a river, and it thrilled me to see how much they love discovering rocks and mushrooms and all sorts of plants. Our friends’ home was perfect for us, and we loved relaxing in it.

I don’t want to set my heart on the wrong things, but there is a longing to have a small place in the mountains, a home away from home, where I don’t have to ask permission  to use it when my family and I need to retreat. A simple place where the pantry is already stocked when you arrive, and where after a day of hiking and exploring, we can put our feet up and enjoy the quiet. For me, the mountains are food for my soul. The worries of life seem to be absorbed into the green, the heat of ministry is cooled by the slower pace and refreshing breezes.

At the end of a long and full summer, my soul feels in need of rest and retreat more than ever, and I’d love to have a regular rhythm of leaving Greensboro behind to recharge. It’s hard to justify wanting another home for something that seems so trivial as rest when many that I know and love in Greensboro have no home at all. And yet the longing is there, and I wonder if/how to pursue that as God leads.

The tension of home missions

For the past seven summers Diane and I have had the privilege of  hosting college students in our home and/or neighborhood for the Greensboro Urban Project. For the first five editions of GUPY, I was working full-time for InterVarsity, and that meant that when my summer work kicked in, my campus-related work typically lay dormant. Then as GUPY ended, campus work picked up again, and it made for a nice rhythm.

But for the past two years, I’ve been employed full-time by my church and only part-time by InterVarsity, and so when GUPY begins, my “regular” job with the church doesn’t lay dormant. The church goes on meeting each week, and the areas that I am responsible for continue to operate. Vision for ministry and ongoing responsibilities and relationships continue. While I don’t feel pressure from my supervisors at church to continue my same church pace during GUPY, I do realize that this work and this community that I am devoting much of my life to is still going even during the summer. I also have friendships that I feel get put on “pause” during GUPY.

For some reason it seems like this whole balancing act is made more difficult because GUPY takes place in my home town. Everything is pretty much the same in Greensboro as it was before June 23rd, and the people that I love and am invested in are still here. But I am not available in the same way during these six weeks; the whole dynamic of my life is altered by GUPY. It feels sometimes like it would be easier to just take a group to Africa for six weeks, even though that would mean giving up the comforts of home, because I could be totally focused on one thing instead of feeling pulled in many directions.

All this is not to complain. I really do count it a privilege to lead GUPY and to know the students that God is bringing. It’s just to say that navigating this state of “everything around me being the same but my availability being entirely different” is still very hard.

Navigating the “meh” days of GUPY

GUPY starts with a bang –students have a lot to learn, everything is new, and we typically are headed to Glenwood Camp within three days of hte GUPYs’ arrival. GUPY typically ends with a flurry – we head out of the country for a week, have a wrap up time with kids from the neighborhood and say goodbye as a team.

But I think that middle weeks, the “meh” times where it doesn’t seem very exciting and where it’s hard to tell what, if anything, is happening, are some of the most useful times for the GUPYs.

As the program has developed, we have become less and less structured, giving students lots of “white space” in the schedule to build relationships and figure out how to form relationships without them being produced by a program. That’s not easy. The typical college student on a missions trip feels the need to be productive. Sitting on the front porch with the neighbors and their kids does not feel like Kingdom work. Sitting in the park wondering how to meet new kids and families does not feel like a good use of time.

Yet life is more often “meh” than spectacular. The work of Kingdom building is slow and steady, often unseen and beneath the surface. Relationships happen over time and they require trust to be built. The work of prayer and waiting seems like not doing work at all, yet it is deeply important.

The GUPYs are in the “meh” week. Next week they help lead Vacation Bible School, and the next will be their last full week in the neighborhood before Costa Rica. Time will fly and they will feel more useful. But today they are in the school of faithfulness and waiting. I hope that they are taking in the lessons.

This time of year

A vase full of buckeyes. Fourth of July fireworks and the 1812 overture. An elderly man in a stiff Atlanta Braves hat. Fresh tears on my cheeks as I realize that I still really miss my grandaddy, three years gone.

The personal side of UNCG expansion

While I believe that UNCG expansion can be a good thing for Glenwood, there is the sad reality that the house that we have worked on for 9 years may be a casualty of this expansion. Diane and I have been married for 10 years this summer, and almost all of those years have been at 828 Silver Ave in our creaky, 102-year-0ld home. The house that made us cry, literally, on our first night in it (because it was so ugly inside and we wondered if we just signed our life away to an ancient mistake), now makes Diane cry when she thinks of losing it. It’s the home that our kids have come home from the hospital to, and we weren’t planning on leaving for a bigger house.

There are about 12 other homeowners in our same position, and for us the expansion just stinks in every way. We don’t benefit from the increase in property values that will come with UNCG expansion. We lose homes that we have poured time and money into. And the best that our neighbors who live south of Haywood (the line of demarcation) can give us is a sad smile, wishing that we weren’t caught in the crossfire and at the same time relieved that they are not in our position (which I totally understand).

I know that the right answer, the one to put my hope in, is that my homes is not a white house on Silver Avenue. My hope is not in property values or equity. My purpose is greater than a quiet fenced-in yard. And on my best days, those thoughts are a great comfort. And on other days, I’m bummed and wish UNCG would just leave us alone.

What is best for Glenwood?

Four years ago I wrote a post about UNCG coming to Glenwood. Now it looks like that post is going to finally become a reality, and in the midst of sadness about our home (which falls right in the proposed expansion area), comes the questions of what is really best for my neighborhood? If my home were not on the chopping block, what would I think of this proposed plan? (Our home would be on the bottom right corner of green space on page 11 of 18 in the linked document, a proposed park).

Change seems inevitable for our neighborhood – it’s too close to UNCG and property values are priced right for quick buy-ups. Right now our neighborhood is already zoned for apartments/mixed use/multifamily buildings to be put up in the area that UNCG is thinking of using. If UNCG does not develop this, what we will likely get is a hodge-podge of development that will not serve the neighborhood in any way, and the neighborhood will not have any say in how things are built. With UNCG, we have the chance to have a voice in how things go. I think that it will beautify a part of the neighborhood that needs work (in much of the proposed area). I also think that will draw more home-owners into Glenwood, which would be a good thing.

The down side is that the poor who live in this area (and in the areas within a few blocks of the development) will no longer be able to afford to live there, as property values will shoot up. I don’t know if there is time/energy available to secure a number of properties which will be affordable and available to the poor. I hope that UNCG will be persuaded to care about those members of its University community who are often unseen, yet essential, the men and women who work in the physical plant and in the cafeteria. For them to be able to live in a neighborhood like Glenwood, connected to the university, would be wonderful, and it would be a credit to UNCG to think proactively about how to make this happen.

My Least Favorite Parable

Once upon a time there was a group of workers. Some workers worked 8 hours, some worked 6, and some worked only one. But they all got paid the same amount at the end of the day, which seemed grossly unfair to the ones who had worked the most. (Matthew 20:1-16, more or less)

This parable drives me crazy sometimes because it runs so contrary to my inward sense of right and wrong. People should get what they deserve, what they earn. If one person worked 8 hours, they should make more than the person who only worked one – it’s only fair. And yet Jesus said that God’s Kingdom works like this, that people are given blessings not according to merit but according to the goodness of the Father. Our standard is merit, and God’s standard is generosity.

I really get off track with the Lord when I believe that I deserve anything from Him at all. When I begin to think that my rule-keeping or faithfulness earns me more favor with God, I am leaning on my own righteousness. But the Gospel is clear that righteousness is always a gift, and anything we do is merely a response to that gift. My life should not be about counting the hours that I’ve worked compare to others, wondering why those who do less than me get more than me. Instead, my life should be spent with my eyes focused on the Lord, seeing Him as my reward, not any “stuff” that comes from His hands.

The Work of Believing

I preached this past Sunday on Mark’s account of Jesus feeding the 5,000. So this week I've been spending time reading John 6, which contains John's account of the feeding of the 5,000, followed by Jesus' teaching on how He is the bread of life. In John 6:28, the people ask God, "What must we do to do the works that God requires?" And you would think that Jesus would answer with a list of things like, "Read your Bible, go to church, be a nice person, follow the 10 Commandments." But He doesn't. He says, "The work of God is this: to believe in the One that He has sent." And when we get down to it, that is so true. Most of my struggles with the life of faith, at their core, stem from a lack of belief in Jesus. Sometimes I don't believe that He really is the bread of life and that I need to be fed by Him every day. Sometimes I don't believe that God really loves me at all times, but instead that He loves me only when I am acting right. Sometimes I don't believe that God really is at work building His Kingdom and I am called to be a part of that. It takes work to believe, work to remember the hope and life of Christ in the midst life's responsibilities and brokenness. It  takes work to let God's promises and the truth of His word inform our circumstances instead of letting our circumstances shape our view of God.

The Weight of Fear

My struggles with fear continue, and a few weeks ago the weight of fear was more than I could lift. While the thing I was fearing was, by and large, irrational, I couldn’t escape worrying about it. I lost sleep and it dominated my prayer life (and by dominated I mean it squelched it).

The weight of fear is loss of trust in God. When I live in fear, I lose focus on the Lord, and I hedge my bets in trusting His character and His promises. Instead of putting my hope in God’s Word being true, I let my experiences and the experiences of others lead me in mistrust.

The weight of fear is isolation. When I live in fear, I am ashamed because the things I worry about seem so silly if I say them aloud, but to my heart they are real and dangerous. And so I don’t let others in, trying to slug it out on my own instead of asking for help.

The weight of fear is control. When I live in fear I try to control my life, either by worry (which gives the illusion of control) or by ordering my life to be as safe as possible. That is exhausting.

The weight of fear is not from Jesus. He promised that His yoke is easy, that His burden is light. There is a freedom that comes from trusting God even in the face of real (and imagined) dangers.

The world is not a safe place – the brokenness of the fall permeates every corner, and we do not have the luxury of numbering our own days. But God’s love and character and Kingdom supersede the worries and fears and brokenness. Our hope is not here. Our hope is in heaven, and I think that God continues to allow the enemy to attack me with fear to train my eyes to look up, to remember the hope of Heaven, and to trust God, not my circumstances.

The impatient gardener

Our society today is far from Jesus’ agrarian-based culture. If we want tomatoes any time of year, we go to the store and buy them. We don’t have to wait for fruit to be in season because it gets shipped to us from places that are always warm. Our thankfulness for food is limited to being thankful that we had money to buy it, but we really don’t give thanks for the process by which it was grown.

But I’ve been gardening for the past three summers, and I have discovered that fruit doesn’t come immediately like it does at the store – it takes a lot longer. And I have learned that I am not a very hopeful gardener. I plant fearfully, praying every year, “Lord, please make something grow from this.” And every year that fruit comes, I know that it’s not because I have a green thumb. Somehow when the seeds are released from the confines of their packet, when the dirt covers them and the water hits and the sun warms, they grow, and they sprout, and fruit comes. And it always amazes me because I was not sure anything was going to happen.

Not only am I not a hopeful gardener, I’m also an impatient gardener. For me gardening is not about the process, it’s about the fruit. I plant tomato plants because I want tomatoes. I plant cucumbers because I want to eat cucumbers. And so I get really impatient with my garden. I wonder why the plants aren’t growing faster, why there aren’t flowers on them yet, if they are growing at all because they don’t look any taller than they did the day before. Did I plant them right? Am I giving them enough water? Have I messed up this time?

And summer after summer it happens. Over time, the plants grow. Flowers come. And fruit follows. I can take no credit for it, and I cannot speed up the process one bit.

Recently as I was fretting over my garden and wondering if this was the year that my lack of ability was going to doom all my plants, the Lord spoke to me about my impatience. He said, “Son, you do this same thing with the people that you minister to. You think that your job is to make them grow, and you think that if you just find the right verse or if you push them more, they are going to show fruit faster. You are an impatient spiritual gardener with misplaced hope.”

When I am an impatient gardener, my hope is in me and my ability to make things grow. But John 15:1 tells us that there is already a spiritual gardener, God the Father. Jesus said, “ I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener.”

This is why Jesus uses gardening so much in talking about the kingdom of God - He is teaching us about hope. We sow seed in people’s lives and then we entrust it to God’s hand because only God makes it grow. Beneath the surface, where we can’t see, God is at work, whether we are awake or asleep. And our trust and hope is in the Father, who is growing His kingdom and wants to see fruit even more than I do, yet who also delights in the growth process.

My work as a disciple is learning to be a patient, hopeful gardener, enjoying the growth process and knowing more fully the One who brings fruit.

The real work of ministry

It’s been hitting me lately that my job is not to run ministry projects or make “ministry happen.” My job is not to make sure that every Sunday there is a place called Grace Community Church for people to come to. My job is not to be the person that you can bring your belligerent non-Christian friend to and I will have all the right answers. My direct influence on the world outside the walls of Grace is very limited.

Yet there are hundreds of ministers who come to Grace every Sunday, who spend less than 3 hours each week at our church. They don’t get their paycheck from a non-profit. They are not leading Bible studies all day or preaching from a pulpit. But they are the hands and feet of Jesus all over  Greensboro. They are teachers and business owner, nurses and landscapers. They are moms and siblings, neighbors and friends. And they have been called by God to honor Jesus in each relationship and each moment of the day, whether that is filling out an expense report, fixing an after-school snack, or mopping a floor.

My role as a pastor is to point these ministers to Jesus, to help them know His love and presence in their lives. My role is to equip them to know His voice and to act on what He speaks. To teach them how to study the Scripture and how to give a good reason for the hope that they have. To remind them that they are Christ’s ambassadors from the cul-de-sac to the boardroom. It’s easy to forget that God is present in the mundane things of life and that their coworkers are more than their coworkers – they are people whom God loves very much and to whom the ministers of my church are being sent every day from 9-5.

As a pastor, I am an arrow pointed to heaven, reminding my co-laborers in the gospel to look up and remember the One that loves us, the One we serve at all times.

Tears in prayer

She came to our church in need of financial assistance for rent. Unfortunately the best we could do was to refer her to a couple of local agencies that had fund to help. As she sat in the hall with her four year old, my heart went out to her. I didn’t know how she got in the situation she was in, but I knew that it must be a scary and difficult place; maybe it was her first time in need, maybe this was all too familiar. I was on my way out the door, but God prompted me to stop and pray with her, and His heart for her beautiful. It was to bless and encourage, to speak life into dark places, to remind her of hope. And when we were finished, tears were trickling down her cheeks.

This happens fairly often when I get to pray with people coming in for assistance (though I am not led to pray with every person who comes), and I have wondered at their tears since many of them are not actively pursuing a relationship with God, not involved in a church. Yet when we pray, something in them is reminded that they are not alone. Something at their core resonates with a God who loves and cares for them even more deeply than their physical needs, though He does care for those needs as well. Moments of crisis in life tend to open our spiritual ears and eyes and remind us of our need for God.

What is curious to me is that most times, those who are so moved in God’s presence during prayer don’t actively follow up on knowing that presence more deeply. We certainly offer ways for that to happen, things like Sunday worship and small groups for women, especially for those who we have relationship with through one of our ministries at church. But usually we are not taken up on those offers. I wonder if they don’t feel worthy to know the Lord intimately on their own, or if they perceive that they might not be well-received by a “rich white church.” Or, like many of us, their moments of spiritual clarity are quickly swallowed up by the cares of this world, the worries of life, and the desire for other things (Mark 4:1-20).

I hope this woman pays attention to her tears, pays attention to her longing for love and for the Lord, and that she will follow through to know Him more. He certainly knows and loves her.

In search of an anchor

I’ve been spending time lately with a number of people who are eager to know truth but reluctant to go “all in” with Christ as that truth. I can see how sincerely they want to know what is really right and good, and yet questions gnaw at them about where Jesus is that rightness and goodness. For some of them, this results in simply being blown to and fro by their emotions and desires. For others it results in confusion about life and purpose. But for all, there is no anchor or compass that is a steady point in the midst of all the changes of life.

And it seems that all the “answers” that come to mind when I think of the things that they are facing are contingent upon faith. The answers that I find to life’s questions, the hope that I have in the midst of pain or confusion, are all based on faith that what God says in the Bible is true. I’ve found that other answers, either based on people or on my own abilities, always fall short, and they tend to shift and fade depending on my mood or circumstances.

As I have thought about my friends, who I really love and care about, it makes me sad to see them without an anchor in the midst of inevitable storms. And it makes me thankful for the hope that I have in Christ. Sometimes I take the truth of God for granted, thinking that truth is good for truth’s sake and forgetting that truth is good for our sake as well.

Choosing the correct preposition

There are a lot of Christian worship songs out there expressing the desire to live for Jesus Christ, and I appreciate their intent and sentiment. The gift of forgiveness and new life is so great that our hearts long to respond and give back to God, to see ourselves as ones whose lives are abandoned to His purposes. In 2 Corinthians 5:15, Paul says that “those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again.” God reorients our purposes and our priorities, and when we receive the life of Christ, we also put ourselves under the authority of a new King, a new leader calling the shots.

However, there is a subtle danger in the preposition “for” when we talk about living for Jesus. We can begin to believe that this Christian life, this life of loving trust and response, becomes something that we can do on our own and something that God expects us to do for Him. But does He? Can we? I submit that the answer to both questions is, “No.”

I think that we need to replace for with from. My call as a Christian is not to live for Jesus, as though I could come up with ways that were adequate to repay all He has given. Instead, I believe that living from Jesus is not only more in line with what God wants from me, but also gives Him greater honor, the very thing that I hoped to do by living for Him.

To live from Jesus says that on my own, I am incapable of producing the life that God desires from me and that I can only receive it from Him. To live from Jesus affirms His call to for me to live in Him, abiding as a vine in the branch. (A branch doesn’t live for the vine, trying hard to produce fruit, but instead it remains connected to the vine, receiving all its life and needs from the vine, and fruit is the natural result.)

If I live from Christ, it means that my life is truly no longer my own. I am not deciding that I will do something for Him (which can lead to my patting myself on the back for my good job giving back to God); instead I am submitting myself to live from Him, meaning He has greater authority, freedom, and control of my life because He is my life.

Living from Jesus is ultimately harder than living for Him, because it eliminates my ability to pick and choose when my life is about me and when it is about God.

But it is also ultimately better because my life is no longer up to me and my ability to be good enough or to make it work, but is now founded on the promises and person of the only one who is good. Choosing the correct preposition and living in a posture of from-ness reminds me that my every moment is tied to “the life that is truly life” (1 Timothy 6:19).

A new favorite verse

At a recent retreat I read Henri Nouwen’s The Life of the Beloved, which really blessed and challenged me. Learning to live as someone beloved by God has been really hard for me, yet I know that my belovedness is what is true and good about me.

I was searching my Bible for instances in which God calls us His beloved, and I found Deuteronomy 33:12, which says, “About Benjamin He said: Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in Him, for He shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between His shoulders.”

What a picture of our relationship to God! Knowing that I am beloved of God allows me to rest securely; nothing to prove, nothing to earn. Just receive and rest.

And how secure am I in Christ? I rest between His shoulders. The first reading of this image made me think that we are carried by God as a shepherd carries his sheep, resting between His shoulders on His back, protected and secure. But I found through a commentary, that the Hebrew noun for shoulders is better translated as being carried not on the Lord’s back, but close to His chest. I’m honestly more comfortable with my first interpretation of this image, but being conformed to Christ means I allow Him to define and order who I am and how I relate to Him.

Shielded and secure, resting in love in the midst of all that I have to do. That is learning to live the life of the beloved.

Remembering the Long Haul

Last night my friend Mr. S shared some of his story. Five years ago he was coming to our Wednesday night dinner at our church, and he mostly came drunk and belligerent. We even had to ask him to leave for a year for how he treated one of our volunteers. I remember during that time I took him out for breakfast one morning, and we had an interesting conversation about rap music and his “aspiring” rap career. He wasn’t ready for real help at that time, but he remembered our conversation (and especially remembered the food). A couple of years ago he was constantly looking for a job,dressing up in a tie and interviewing all over town, not having any luck, but keeping his head up.

And now, he has a job that he has held for almost a year. He has joined a local church. He is engaged to be married in May and he and his fiancé are going to pre-marital  counseling. They are set to get an apartment in the coming week. He is always well-groomed, peaceful in spirit, and polite on Wednesday nights.

What his story tells me is to remember that it can take a long time for someone to leave the street life and the attitudes and behaviors that accompany it. It can take tough love, even discipline, for someone to see how their attitude damages themselves and others. But all that time, God is at work. It’s easy to see the same people over and over each Wednesday and feel like they are in the same cycle and situation that they were in last year and wonder if our prayers and our time is worth it. In fact, discouragement is one of the main ways that the devil seeks rob our hope and silence our work.

But God reminds me that our faithful love and service, in His hands, is powerful.A simple meal and a short sermon once a week matter. Prayers for the same requests over and over matter. God’s transformation is not always quick, it is not always according to our understanding.

I believe that there are going to be more stories like Mr. S’s coming soon. Our numbers overall on Wednesday nights are down a little bit, but there’s a consistent spirit of expectation, an expectation that we are going to hear from God. More and more people are coming hungry for the Word, as well as for the food, and I believe that God is answering my prayer to make us into a transformational community.

A Gift of Sadness

At the end of December I noticed that I had spent a number of weeks accompanied by a sobering sadness. Not an incapacitating sadness that overwhelmed me; just sort of a persistent companion. Some of it is tied to my ongoing struggle with fear, which has made me face my fear of death and accept that the number of my days is not in my own hands.

I’ve begun to realize that life here on earth doesn’t last forever. I am going to get old, my kids won’t be cute and cuddly forever, and the “mundane” things of life that I take for granted now won’t always be available to me. While I didn’t always enjoy the sadness, I grew to be thankful for its presence during that season, because it reminded me to enjoy the present and urged me to live with God’s Kingdom in mind.

I’m sad that my son won’t always say goofy, two-year-old things, and yet I make a note to treasure them in my heart. I’m sad that one day Diane and I will be parted by death, and yet I appreciate all the more these amazing years of parenting and growing together. I’m sad that Diane’s parents and my parents are getting older, yet I am thankful to get to make the four-hour drive to Georgia to see her family. The present is a treasure, especially the ordinary things.

And as I think about how short life really is, it leads me to want to make mine count. I’ve been to several funerals in the past few months, two of people who died too young, one of a man who was 83 years old. And I have noticed that during funerals, people don’t bring up the bad things you did or the ways you failed. They remember the happy memories and the good things you did, and if you pay attention, you begin to wonder what your own legacy might be.

I don’t want to be remembered as a good guy who did nice things for people. Instead I want my life to count for an eternal impact, that people would be led to know God through His life expressed in me. My kids won’t remember how many hours I worked or how much money I made, but they will remember playing tickle-monster and horsie in the living room, and they will remember the ways that I showed them God’s love with my life and my words. My retirement fund won’t accompany me to heaven, but the lives that I touch for Christ’s sake will have eternal value.

I used to try and fight the sadness or ignore it. But ironically, as I allowed this sadness to speak to me, it actually led to more joy in the present, appreciating all that I have been given.

Stuck on Fast-Forward

It seems that I get to the end of my weeks and I wonder where the last seven days have gone. Life feels dictated by my calendar, and a week without more than one night-time meeting or event is a rarity. And that's just work and church, not even counting kids and their school events (and our kids aren't even on any sports team). My days are planned for me before they even begin, and free time is fleeting and easily commandeered by something more urgent or important.

I think that life has been on fast-forward for a while, but I am much more aware of it having recently been on a four-day spiritual formation retreat with Diane. Time slowed to a crawl from Wednesday to Sunday, and there was space for quiet, for naps, for reading, and for simply walking in the woods. My wife and I ate every meal together, three meals a day!

A friend recently made a comment about our “jumping right back in” after the retreat, and my thought was, “What choice did we have?” As the commercial says, “Life comes at you fast.” There were commitments and events already on the calendar waiting for us, and this pace is pretty much par for the course for our family and many others like us.

It takes courage to make a different choice, to say no to the urgent and the needful and to trust that I am not significant because of my packed schedule. Busyness is a badge of importance in our culture, but it is costly in the long term. I want to get unstuck, to slow the pace of life down. But do I have the fortitude to do it?

A Beautiful Waster

Waste is not a good word these days. My daughter sings a song about not being a water-waster; there are whole companies devoted to waste management; piles of garbage collect in dumps around the world (on a recent episode of The Office, Dwight looked at a garbage dump and said with reverence, “No other animal could create this”). We are taught from an early age not to waste food, money, electricity, or time.

And so the story of Jesus' anointing at Bethany consistently jumps out at me whenever I make my way towards the end of Mark's gospel. Jesus was having dinner at the home of Simon the Leper (seemingly a waste of Jesus' social capital), and an unnamed woman comes and breaks a jar of expensive perfume and pours it on His head.

You can almost hear the gasps and whispers of indignation as those watching say, “Why this waste? The money used for that perfume could have been used to help the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

But Jesus doesn't call her gift a waste. He calls it beautiful. He calls it seeing with eyes of faith and love. And He says it is to be remembered forever. She did what she could, she offered what she had, and it was more than enough.

I find great freedom and great challenge with this passage. My heart resonates with Jesus' affirmation that “she did what she could.” What she did was enough because it was all she could do. For someone like me who feels like nothing I do is ever enough, the freedom to be at peace with doing what I can do, not what I can't, is wonderful.

The challenge is that everything in me rebels against waste. I have to invest my time, money, resources, not waste them. And pouring perfume on Jesus, which smells great for a time, but eventually fades and leaves no tangible return, seems like a wasted investment. In the same way, sometimes spending moments and hours with Jesus, just being with Him without producing for Him or asking Him to do something for me or others, seems like a wasted investment.

But I have seen the truth of Jesus' words, that we will always have the poor, the needy among us. There is always going to be another person to help, another opportunity to be busy doing a “good thing” in Jesus' name and for His sake. But to let those crowd out the beautiful gift of drawing near to Jesus and just blessing Him with the gift of our time and attention, that is very dangerous, because it puts me close to the line of gaining the world but losing my soul.

Living with an eye to the future

I’ve been struggling some with wondering why there doesn’t seem to be more Kingdom-mindedness in the Church. I long to see more people sold out for their faith, living radically and sacrificially, and it just seems that many are content to merely get by, to sporadically be excited about God and then not.
It’s so hard to live with an eye to the future; to truly believe that there is a heaven; to believe that there is this thing called “the Kingdom of God” that is both here already and at the same time is not yet here. Everything in our culture, and in our natural instincts, tells us that the way to have the best life is to do what is best for you and for your family and to give the leftovers (if there are any) to others. We tend to live in fear of not having enough, whether that is not enough significance, money, respect, rest, etc., and so we spend much of our time with making sure that we don’t lack in any area.
And yet this life on earth is a mere blink of an eye; the Bible calls it a breath. Christians believe that we will spend eternity with God in perfect peace and happiness and love, and our theology says that the most important thing about a person is whether or not they are a member of God’s family, recreated as His child through the life of Christ. But at the same time, heaven seems so abstract, and the idea of being under the reign of a King and Kingdom just doesn’t compute in our democratic mindset. And so the future that we live for tends to involve our 401K more than the treasures Jesus urges us to store up in heaven.
How do we shift our mindset; how do we learn to live as though this life is temporal, the Kingdom eternal? John tells us how in chapter 13 of His gospel when Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. In verses 3-4, John says, “Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God; SO (emphasis mine) He got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing…. and began to wash His disciples’ feet.”
Jesus knew some things that are critical for living a life of sacrificial love, a life with the Kingdom in view. He knew who He was. He was God’s son and all things were His. He knew where He had come from. And He knew where He was going. Those things freed him in the present from having to grab significance for Himself and led Him instead to serve others.
Too many Christians do not know who we are or whose we are. We do not live like we know where we are going. We need to remember that we are sons of the King and partners in His Kingdom building, bringing the shalom of God more and more fully on earth. We are beloved by God and have been brought to fullness in Christ, and we have fullness to give away to others. And we have an eternity of rest, joy, and peace awaiting us, a home that we will not have to work to upkeep. I pray that we would more and more learn our identity and our final destination, so that we might take up the basin and towel in the present, not withholding our time, money, or love from God and others.

But I'm Not Done with Christmas Yet!

It’s been kind of sad to me that at least two people have told me that they were glad Christmas was over. In some ways I can understand what they mean – it can be a very busy and stressful time (probably not the type of celebration the Lord had in mind), and after months of hype, it can seem like Christmas will never just hurry up and get here and stop cluttering up our schedules.

But why do we stop saying, “Merry Christmas” after December 25th? Why do the Christmas music radio stations yank the Christmas songs at midnight on the 25th and everyone rush to plan their New Years Rockin’ Eve? It seems to me that December 25th marks the beginning of a season of celebration, a season of rejoicing that our King has come, not the end. Christmas day should be merely the start of the party. My friend David has “Joy to the World” as his ring tone all year long because Jesus’ coming is joyous news both in December and in July.

Isaiah 9 tells us that unto us a child is born, to us a son has been given, and He shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. If you are confused, He is the counselor. Weak? He is the Mighty God. Alone? He is the Father who has brought you into His family. Anxious? He is the Prince of Peace. The Lord of light and life has come, humble and weak, yet possessing the very life of God that He will one day give to us, and I think we turn off our celebratory lights way too soon.

I am not sure we know how to celebrate well in our culture. We love events, but as soon as one is over, we dash off to the next one, relishing in the build-up and the hype so much that the event itself never delivers, leaving us empty and moving on to the hope that the next party might do the trick. (Are the heart-shaped boxes of candy on display in Wal-mart yet, because there are only 45 shopping days left until Valentines Day?)

Will you join me in lingering over the wonder of Emmanuel, God with us? Joy to the world, let earth receive her king, this day and every day.

Foiled Again!

I have tried and tried to keep my kids from the commericalization of Christmas, but I have been foiled again! Here is a recent exchange between Eliza and her babysitter, Anna:

Anna: Eliza, what do you want for Christmas?
Eliza: Well, I used to want peace and love, but now I just want a coloring book.

It is what it is and that's OK

God is doing a new thing in my heart regarding our Wednesday Community Fellowship dinners at Grace. Each week over 150 guests (most of them homeless) come for dinner and a message of hope, and this is one of the ministries that I am responsible for in my role as Director of Outreach. I came in with high expectations of myself – I was going to cast vision and usher in transformation, taking this ministry to the “next level,” which in my mind meant fixing/saving our guests. The less that transformation happened, the more frustrated I became, feeling like I was failing and not knowing how to make things better. And so the dinner stopped being a simple act of kindness, a meal of hope. The dinner stopped being for me an opportunity to fellowship with friends that I have grown to know and love.

But lately I am letting go with expectations for change. I do deeply desire that my friends find work, find shelter, find healing and hope. I want to see their lives look different. But I cannot make that happen, and right now I am not receiving clear direction from the Lord on doing much differently on Wednesday nights. What God has been leading me to do seems so simple – have a couple of worship songs each week (and God provided someone to do that); involve guests more in the dinner (so we are having a guest pray each night for the meal and will soon do another testimony night in place of the message; give the guests a chance to pray over some of the requests we receive each week; pray with our church staff team each week for the prayer requests that come in. I am letting go of trying to fix and simply being available to love and enjoy our community.

That sounds really simple, and it sounds like I am not “doing anything.” But I think that this is the ministry God is giving us at Grace right now. Maybe everyone else who serves at WCF understood this already. But it’s taken me a while to see that it is what it is, and that’s OK.

Good news from the GUPY's

As I continue to keep up with graduated GUPY’s, one of the things that excites me most, even more than their work for the Lord amongst the poor, is how many of them are continuing to grow in understanding the depths of grace and the gospel. They continue to wrestle with the inconceivable wonder of grace, the freedom that the Lord gives us from sin and its power over us. They continue to stretch their souls to truly receive all the love that the Lord has for them.
Here are some quotes from three GUPY's blogs:

it just continues to strike me how we as humans continue to try and earn our salvation through works or words or ritual. Our forgiveness has been accomplished already. Christ said "It is finished," so why don't we believe him?

I will always cling to the hope that it is for freedom that Christ has set us free (Gal. 5:1). This is no excuse to sin, of course, but it is an excuse to live by the Spirit, free from the law that I cannot fulfill on my own. That is why Christ came, to be the sin offering for me, so that the barriers are now broken a friendship with God is possible. I will continue to look to Old Testament laws as good moral guidelines, but I know that the Lord calls me to more than just following the rules. He calls me to a life led by the Spirit, a life that is dead to sin and former ways and is alive...fully alive in the confidence and hope of Jesus. He doesn't want me any other way.

God sees through all of my junk & pride. ALL of it. Yet, His decision to love me never waivers (*absurd!*). He gently provides a dose of rebuke, a lathering of forgiveness, and the empowerment to change.
These days He’s trying to teach me that there’s no need to waste my time putting a PR “spin” on my sin and failure or covering it up with cute suits and church event attendance or respectable titles and empty words. And He’s using His unconditional love to break down the facades, take off the layers of my ish, and slowly reveal the daughter with humility and character I was meant to be– not the fraudulent one attempting to run fig leaves through a sewing machine.
It feels so icky to my sin in its depths, but I am genuinely thankful that Jesus doesn’t want to leave me this way.

I believe that this work of God in these young men and women will bear fruit for a lifetime, leading them to love others and to give the good news of the gospel away to so many who need to hear it, including people in their own churches!

Notes From My Advent Journey

God got me thinking about advent well before Thanksgiving, which is a blessing because I usually think about advent about halfway through and then I sort of feel it’s too late and say. “We’ll get ‘em next year.” (That happens to me during Lent, as well) To aid my advent journey, God also provided me with two companions for my advent journey, two books actually: Living the Christian Year by Bobby Gross, and Stations of the Crib by Joe Nassal. Living the Christian Year was a gift from IV Press (one of the perks of still being on IV staff), while Stations of the Crib was a delightful, random find at St. Francis Springs retreat center.

I would highly recommend both of them, for different reasons. Living the Christian Year gives you plenty of Scriptural food for thought, offering 6 different Scriptures each week of advent, and a short meditation on each Scripture. For example, this week’s focus was on lamenting the brokenness of the world, and I have found my heart crying out over the darkness all around, saying, “Come, Lord Jesus,” echoing the haunting cry of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”

Stations of the Crib is a powerfully-written call to hope consisting of 15 meditations on the birth of Christ. The writing is simple, beautiful, and it speaks directly to the heart. I have been particularly struck by three meditations: a call to be silent and ponder Christ’s coming, written in response to Zechariah’s forced silence before John’s birth; a call to be hopeful not just for the future, but hopeful for the past, knowing that while we cannot undo our past, Christ’s grace and mercy enables us to see it with hopeful eyes; and a call to let Jesus interrupt the hurry of life, to get in our way and force us to deal with the presence of this holy one who has come.

In some ways I feel pressure to have an “aha” experience, to be able to write down “Advent 2009 was about FILL IN THE BLANK.” But this morning the Lord reminded me that advent is about creating space for Him to fill our soul more and more fully, to birth something new that might not be immediately seen or understood, yet would be present and real all the same. And so I will continue to wait.

Fullness of Joy

Last week I had the chance to preach at our church, and the topic given to me was “joy,” going with an advent theme. Hoenstly, I was surprised at what came out (though I shouldn’t have been, as most of my GUPY’s would tell you that I only have one sermon that I preach – Christ in you, the hope of glory). My take home truth (sermon-class talk for "main point") is that if we truly knew that Jesus came to give us more than forgiveness, that He came to give us life, we would live lives of joy-fueled obedience. If you’d like to listen to it (it’s not long), click here and download it to your favorite PC/Mac/iPod. Below is my closing (I was preaching out of 1 Peter 3:3-9; 13-15):

In the first episode of The Beverly Hillbillies, Jed, Granny, Jethro and Ellie Mae pull up to their new home and go inside. Their mouths hang open as they stand in the foyer and look at the chandelier and the spiral staircase. Granny tells Jethro to bring her iron cook stove in from the truck and asks Ellie Mae to gather wood so that she can cook supper, despite being told that there is a brand new stove for her to use in the kitchen. When she sees the kitchen oven, she sets to work building a fire inside it. Jethro comes down from the upstairs and says, “There’s a whole other house up here, Uncle Jed,” to which Jed replies, “Git down from there – like as not that belongs to someone else.”

If only they'd known that they had a stove that would cook without a fire. If only they'd known that the whole house belonged to them, not just the downstairs.

And while we laugh at the Hillbillies, we are so often the same way with our salvation. We are amazed at the forgiveness of Jesus, as we should be, but we never begin to explore the fullness of the life that He has given us. We try to apply our old way of doing things to the new life that He has given and it just doesn’t work. We doubt that all that God says about His love for us and His work in us could possibly be true. And so we stay in the foyer of faith, missing out on the fullness of joy.

Could this Christmas season be the time where you discover afresh the joy of Jesus Christ? Will you fix our eyes upon Jesus? Will you prepare your mind for action, looking at all you have been given in Christ, and will you respond with a loving obedience, fueled by joy, that our lives might be consistent with the life of Christ in us.

Lights on Silver Avenue

It’s no secret that I love Christmas, pretty much everything about it. I especially love the lights that people put up, and my wife has done such a wonderful job of putting simple, beautiful lights on our home.

But as I drove home the other night, seeing my house made me realize that there aren’t many Christmas lights on Silver Avenue. I don’t think it’s because people are “too poor” to put up lights, though some are. But I think it speaks to the lack of ownership that people have on my street and in my neighborhood. College students just passing through and renters just finding the least expensive place to stay. I remember when I was a renter, I didn’t do much of anything to decorate the outside of my home; we just put up a tree and some decorations inside. But as an owner it’s different for some reason.

I wish there were more lights on Silver.

Grace in the moment

In a recent sermon, I told a nice story about a time where I was arriving home from work exhausted, and I remembered to pray to the Lord, asking Him to be my life and to love my family through me. It was a nice analogy of holiness working its way from the inside out, and it happened to illustrate what happens when we remember on the front-side to depend on Jesus.
But often times the rubber meets the road for me when I am in the midst of an independence streak and I realize the fruitlessness of my actions. At that moment, when I realize that I am failing the Lord and others, I tend to just press on in my funk, reasoning that since I didn’t get it right from the beginning, it’s too late to start now.

Yet isn’t that where faith and grace really kick in, when we’ve already taken the wrong turn, made the wrong choice? When I’ve already overly-fussed at my son for pooping in his bed and decided internally to have a grumpy morning from that point on? When I’ve already decided that I am too tired and frustrated to try depending on Jesus so I am just going to handle things my way, no matter how bad they get? Those are the very moments where, despite the enemy’s whispers to run, my call is to stand and remember. I have been given new birth into a living hope, and that truth is good all the time and is not dependent on my past five minutes of behavior. It is dependent on Jesus Christ and the loving grace of our Father, who takes the time to interrupt my independence and offer me life.

I think that for most of us, we swing and miss the first time through. But our identity has not changed, and God is calling us to surrender our way, surrender our guilt, surrender the thought that we’ll just get it right the next time, that we might see Jesus meet us in that very moment, giving us, as Peter wrote, “everything we need for life and godliness.” Amen and Amen!

Christmas Music Suggestions

Need some new music to get your Christmas spirit goin’? Let me be your guide. First, my top three Christmas albums:
1) Joy by Bebo Norman, Ed Cash, and Allen Levi
2) Behold the Lamb: The True Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ by Andrew Peterson
3) The Silent Stars by Alli Rogers

The first two have been on my list for years and would be a welcome addition to any musical library, but I have to say that Alli’s record is getting pretty much constant play on my iPod right now. She has written some amazing original songs, and has redone a few Christmas hymns. Her voice is very soothing and it’s a worshipful, relaxing Christmas CD. Check it out on iTunes.

Also, if you are strapped for cash, go to www.noisetrade.com and check out free music by lots of great artists. My favorite free Christmas finds there are the offerings from Justin McRoberts , JJ Heller, and So Elated (and Justin’s “Deconstruction” CD is amazing, too).
You can also go to this site http://vanguardrecords.com/downloads/Holiday/ for a free holiday download featuring one of my favorite artists that I found on noisetrade, Katie Herzig. I have liked all of the songs on the CD.

Steps to Resisting the Storm - Refocus

Many well-meaning Christians have begun to wage a war against “the war on Christmas,” urging us to boycott stores like Old Navy because they say “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.” If Old Navy employees said “Merry Christmas”, though, would it infuse hearts with Jesus? Would He receive glory from the sale of yet another sweater sewn by poor hands? It’s doubtful.

The greatest way that we can resist the storm of Christmas commercialism is to set our hearts and minds on Jesus. It’s one thing to say that Jesus is the reason for the season; it’s another to seek Him with earnestness and conviction in the coming weeks, getting to know His heart and His ways beyond the story of His birth that we are celebrating.

Instead of lamenting the loss of Christ in Christmas at the mall, our time and mental energy could be better spent thinking on all that was given to us in Christ. Our time and physical energy could be better spent giving generously to those who cannot repay us, just as God gave His life to a world that could never repay Him. Our time and emotional energy could be better spent praising the Author of Life rather than reviling those who ride the cultural wave each December trying to make a buck.

There was a lot to pay attention to during the days of Jesus’ birth and early years. Shepherds came stumbling into the stable late at night, smelly outcasts rejoicing over a tiny baby. A jealous and evil king destroyed all of the Jewish boys ages two and under. Wise men came from far away lands to give ludicrously expensive gifts. An old man and an ancient woman in the temple of God broke out in prophecy and praise of God when Jesus was carried into the room by His parents.

And Luke tells us that Mary looked at all those things, all the commotion, and treasured them and pondered them in her heart.

Perhaps resisting the storm is built on quiet pondering and on treasuring, not being engulfed by the hubbub all around (or railing against it), being consumed with the One who has sparked all the commotion.

Steps to Resisting the Storm, A Word About Budgets

Budgets can be restrictive or they can be freeing. We can celebrate our decision to willingly limit what we spend in order to give more away, or we can labor under a false law that says in order to really be a Christian we have to deny ourselves stuff. We can see budgets as keeping us from getting what we want, or we can see them as protection and freedom from the byproducts of overindulgence. And they can be a product of grace and love, as ask Christ to help us allocate well what He has entrusted to us. Paul urges the Corinthian church to excel in the grace of giving (2 Corinthians 8:7). Giving is by grace, and a budget empowered by grace enables us to excel in the grace of giving.

Steps to Resisting the Storm, Part 2

I also have to fight the notion that loving my kids equals getting them stuff. I love to bless my kids, but I have to redefine what "blessing them" is. Some friends of mine have already thought through a version of this question when it comes to school choices – one segment of the Christian culture would say if you love your kids and want to bless them, send them to private Christian school or at least the best, more homogenous public school (which certainly is one definition of “best”). But my friends have redefined what “best” means in that they want their daughter to have friends of all races and economic backgrounds and that they want her to learn to love the Lost as a part of everyday life, so they send her to a very diverse public school.

Diane and I are just doing that same redefiinf work in the area of Christmas spending. And, because our kids are young, we have the chance now to shape what Christmas looks like in terms of presents and in terms of giving, because they don’t have years of gifts to stoke their expectations. Now, coming from a big family, our kids will get presents from their grandparents to add to their mounds of stuff that they already have, and I even try to ask my family to scale back what they give us.

Steps to Resisting the Storm, Part 1

So how to we take active steps to resist the coming storm of Christmas commercialism? When I was at the CCDA Conference in Cincinnati, Jim Wallis of Sojourners said, “Budgets are moral documents. How we spend/allocate our money shows what we really value.” He was speaking in terms of government spending, but this is also true of our own budgets. Jesus said that where our treasure is, there will our heart be, and so how we allocate the money God gives us reflects our values.

The way that Diane and I set boundaries for how much to spend at Christmas is the same way that we set boundaries for what we spend every other month of the year - our budget. Month to month, we set aside what God has led us to give first, and then we figure out how to live off of the rest. For Christmas, we limit what we budget for gifts, and then we stick to what we have set aside. I recognize that many of you have budgets for Christmas, and the way that our budget helps us resist the storm is that we set aside/budget a small amount. In order not to get caught up in craziness, Diane and I limit what we have available to spend.

When I think about my parents, sisters, and my own family, there is nothing at all that we need. Of course I always have a wish list of things that I want, but when I think about what I need, there’s nothing. That helps me spend less. I also have to fight the notion that gifts have to be large/expensive/multiple in order to be loving. I love to receive gifts (it’s my love language), and I love to give them – I almost want to unwrap the gift for the people I am giving it to because I love to give presents. But giving simple, yet thoughtful gifts, can be just as exciting. It can be more challenging to buy gifts with less money because you have to make decisions on what is really important to those people, and you buy less things on impulse and instead buy them with care and forethought.

Whack! Snap! Crack!

Today as I raked leaves in our backyard, Ben (the guy who walks all through our neighborhood and collects metal to recycle) approached with his shopping cart. We had recently cleaned out our basement garage and one thing sitting there was an old wicker crib, which had been mine as a baby and then had been Eliza’s. I had forgotten that the springs at the base of the crib (which supported the mattress) were made of metal, and so it surprised me when Ben began whaling on the crib with a hammer. Sure, we were throwing it out anyway, but something in me was sad to see this crib whacked apart, broken for scrap. Nothing really more to say or think or analogize. Just weird and sad to see my old crib being turned into scrap by one of my more interesting neighbors.

The Calm Before the Storm

There have already been rumbles on the horizon. It seems that they are heard earlier and earlier each year. And as November marches to a close, the storm will grow louder and more confusing, so its best to get ready now.

Will you be ready when every TV ad tells you that love equals expensive gifts? Will you be ready when shopping centers and malls sell you an experience that promises peace and joy but never delivers? Will you be ready to follow the wise men as they leave Bethlehem, going "another way"?

It becomes increasingly difficult in our culture to separate the noise and colors of the Christmas trappings from the true heart and meaning of what we are celebrating. That's why now is a great time, the best time, to prepare our hearts to stand against all that will be coming our way very soon. I figure if the stores can roll out the Christmas trees before Halloween, we can begin our advent preparation before Thanksgiving.

I long to live differently this Christmas, to begin to really teach my kids that Jesus is what Christmas is all about and to do that with more than just words. I long to give generously and meet the real needs of others, not to increase the clutter in my already full home. And I long to find more of Jesus when there is less under the tree. It gets really hard to do that as the season progresses.

Black Friday comes and tempts me to buy lower-priced electronics that I don't need. I want my children to be happy and when I see the things that their friends get, I want my kids to have all of those things, too. I have my own wish list as well, and I love to buy things for my wife that she would not usually get for herself. And then when you kick in the familiar Christmas songs that strike up images of shopping trips and presents with bows, before I know what is happening, I am using up the money in our Christmas present budget instaed of coming in well-below what we have set aside.

So I am starting now, preparing my heart for more of Jesus and less stuff. I am listening to a podcast from Imago Dei church in Portland, which has launched The Advent Conspiracy (click here for the podcast, which has Advent Conspiracy sermons from 2006, 2007, and 2008).

And I am praying that I will captured more by the wonder of Emmanuel, God with us, than by the craftiness of the advertisers who hope to make a buck off of my sentiment and my Savior. Will you join me in living differently this Christmas?

Living the "get to" life

Deuteronomy 6:20-25: In the future, when your son asks you, "What is the meaning of the stipulations, decrees and laws the LORD our God has commanded you?" tell him: "We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. Before our eyes the LORD sent miraculous signs and wonders--great and terrible--upon Egypt and Pharaoh and his whole household. But he brought us out from there to bring us in and give us the land that he promised on oath to our forefathers. The LORD commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear the LORD our God, so that we might always prosper and be kept alive, as is the case today. And if we are careful to obey all this law before the LORD our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness."

Recently on the weight-loss reality show The Biggest Loser, one of the personal trainers asked the contestants why they were participating in the show, and most gave a generic reply, "Because I want to get healthy." She replied, "That is not a goal or a motivation that is going to see you through. If you are going to turn down tasty, high-calorie foods and drinks, you have to have a more compelling reason than, 'To be healthy."

And so the contestants began to talk about their dreams: to break cycles of heart disease and obesity in their families; to see their children and grand-children grow up; to be married and have a family; to be confident in their appearance and to see themselves as beautiful. As their deeper motivations were revealed, their resolved was strengthened, and instead of saying, "Why do I have to turn down this fried food and this margarita," they instead said, "I am freely choosing to give this up in order to see a better thing come to pass."

Too often Christians seek to live a "good life" from motivations that will never sustain us. Fear of disappointing God, guilt over past mistakes, a desire to be liked by others - all of these motivations will eventually leave us dry and living under a system of rules designed to merely maintain life, rather than to push us to abundance in Christ.

Our mindset should not be "I have to follow God's rules." Instead, God's laws and instructions in Scripture guide us to the "get to life." We get to live in Christ, turning from the world and pressing toward the things of God. He has rescued us and recreated us in Christ to be His sons and daughters, our lives resonating with the life and voice of the Spirit. The "get to life" is a lasting motivation that frees us to embrace God's Kingdom growing within us, and it frees us to participate in building God's Kingdom in the world.

The good news and bad news about the kingdom

When Jesus says, "The Kingdom of God is here, repent and believe the good news," there were was implicit in His pronouncement that there was also a king in charge of said Kingdom. That can be good news or bad news, depending on the King and depending on our desire to be ruled.

First, the character of the king shapes the kingdom. If the king is good, just, kind, and governs his people with their good in mind, it's good news that there is a king. It can be freeing to know that there is someone in charge who has your best interests in mind and also has the power and authority to do what is best. But if the king is a tyrant, bent on getting his own way, leading by fear and eager to prove his king-ness by pressing his thumb down on the people, it's bad news that there is a king. It can be paralyzing to know that there is someone in charge who sees you merely as a disposable component in his Me-Machine.

The movie "300" (and the book "Gates of Fire" by Stephen Pressfield) come to mind, as there is a great contrast between two kings during the battle of Thermopylae - King Xerxes of Persia and King Leonidas of Sparta . Xerxes is bent on his own name and he magnifies his name by crushing those who oppose him, by feeding the senses of those who will bow to his whims, and he will stop at nothing to extend his kingdom. He sends waves and waves of soldiers, sacrificing thousands while he stays far away from the battle lines. He leads with whips and chains. Leonidas is bent on the name of his country, desiring that Sparta be known as a great nation and that its people remain free. He does not send his men to fight and die alone, but instead he goes and lives with them, leading them from the front lines, steeling their courage with his own. He leads with freedom and by example. As I raed "Gates of Fire" years ago, I couldn't help but see Jesus in King Leonidas. Jesus did not stay far off from His people during the battle, but instead came to lead by example, to show courage and compassion and to reveal the face of the king to his subjects, eventually laying His life down for the freedom of the people.

Second, our desire to be the king instead of the kingdom member can affect how we hear the good news of the Kingdom of God. If we are eager to rule our own lives, it is bad news that there is a king, because our place on the throne is being challenged. And all of us start out in this place of rebellion against God's kingdom, thinking ourselves the masters of our own universe, and the world around us reinforces and encourages this thinking, telling us that we deserve to be the king and to have life our own way. If we're not careful, we can live our whole lives in the shadow of this lie, and that includes people who have trusted Christ for salvation, because all Christians (me included) struggle with giving lip service to God as King while maintaining our own kingdoms.

But to all of us, God gives us the gift of brokenness, if we will receive it as such. The brokenness in our lives is meant to show us the truth that we are not in charge, that there is a king and it's not us. If we are humble, we will see our failures and struggles and the failures of those around us as signposts pointing to the only One who is good. Looking at our world today, we truly need a king who will rule with justice and kindness, with righteousness and integrity. And that King exists, if we would receive Him. Sadly, we too often prefer the way of Psalm 2:1-3, seeing God's reign as confining and as something to be thrown off, forfeiting the grace that could be ours.

There is a King and we are not it - this truly is good news.

What is the gospel?

This morning my friend Wes asked me, "What is the gospel?" My first answer was going to involve the life, death, and resurrection of Christ for the salvation of all people. But then he clarified by quoting a Scripture that talked about the good news (gospel) of the kingdom of God, and it jogged my memory. In recent weeks I have been reading a book about how to strategically help the poor and at the same time I have been studying the book of Mark. As I have read each of them, I have been struck by Jesus' teaching on the Kingdom of God, and how focused Jesus was on proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom.

In Mark, Jesus begins His preaching by saying, "The Kingdom of God is here - repent and believe the good news." It seems that Jesus equates the good news with God's Kingdom advancing on earth, not merely with salvation. The Good News that Jesus speaks of is that healing and justice are coming forth, that righteousness is being lived out between people and wrongs are being bent back right.

As Wes and I talked about this, we realized that salvation is often preached in churches as the end but perhaps it is better understood as a means to an end, and that End is the Kingdom of God. No one can enter the Kingdom of God apart from salvation in Christ, but once we are "in", then what? Does our story with God end with our knowing more and more fully how much we are loved and how fully we have been saved? Surely not. We are brought into the Kingdom of God because of His love for us, certainly, but there is a greater purpose. We are called to participate in Kingdom building, not merely by inviting people to salvation through Christ's forgiveness and life, but by living lives that reflect the heart of the King we serve. The church in the West has emphasized the need for each individual to enter the Kingdom, but that has come at the expense of proclaiming the broader mission and heart of God.

Perhaps we have so many Christians struggling to live out their faith because the object of end of their faith is too small. If the best that we can aim at is to be less sinful, to be more devoted in worship, to occasionally share the message of salvation, no wonder our reach seems so short. There is a work of magnificent scale occurring, a work of healing and justice, of freedom and transformation, and our salvation in Christ allows us to be free to participate in this Kingdom work for the glory of God.

How might we use this in sharing the good news? This is one stab at it: http://www.jameschoung.net/2007/09/17/the-big-story/ . In general, I like where he is going with this idea, though I think that this particular diagram too quickly glosses over our own brokenness and our own contribution to the brokenness of the world. But it does point us to a bigger mission, a great story, and invites us into the End we are created for, the Kingdom of God.

Exhorted to Run the Race

In recent weeks I have struggled with fear and discouragement in regard to our church's dinner for the community. Now, these struggles come as no surprise to those who know me or who read this blog. But what has surprised me is who God has raised up to urge me forward. Sure, there are the usual folks - good friends on staff at church, my wife, ministry partners. But God has also been speaking truth and hope to me from prophets that I didn't expect.

People like John, a man who had been regularly attending our dinners, and each week he would speak to me and encourage me on my message. I asked him to start coming early to pray over the sanctuary, and now he arrives over an hour early to help set up and to pray. Recently, when I was close to being overwhelmed with doubt and fear, I sat down to talk with him (not telling him my struggles), and he began to speaking to me about the goodness and power of God. He began to speaking about the power of God's Word to change hearts and lives and about the presence of the Spirit in our church on Wednesday nights. He told me that even those who are opposed to our ministry are brought each Wednesday by God, because He is trying to reach them and love them, too. And that night John closed our volunteer meeting with a prayer that almost made the floor of the sanctuary shake. He was mentoring me in trusting in the Word of God, of putting my hope in His power and goodness, and as he talked to me, his eyes danced with confidence in the Lord.

People like Cleveland, who I met a few days after his son died. He needed gas money to go to the funeral, which our church was able to help with. We sat and prayed together, and he came once or twice to a Bible study that I lead, and then I didn't see him again. Until a recent Sunday when he walked into my office and said, "Surprise." He told me that he has a steady job and that he is thankful to God every day. And he said, "You keep doing what you are doing. You are speaking the Word, and this church has a powerful ministry. You keep at it and God is going to move. God has big things in store."

Many folks in our church know Bonnie and the power of God in her life, and I have long respected her as a mentor in how to love the addicted and hurting. I was lamenting to her that I didn't think what we were doing on Wednesday was effective. Lives weren't changing left and right. People seemed stuck, and I wanted to just restart the whole thing or scrap what we had been doing. She told me that the regular preaching of God's Word was no small thing, and that if we stayed the course, He would move in His own time. Preaching the Word is not insignificant, and only God brings the harvest. Her simple, quiet words set me free from so much of the pressure I was putting on myself to be bigger, better, stronger.

Each of these members of my "great cloud of witnesses" knows the struggles of the streets and the power of God to change any and all things. And their encouragement and trust of God's work in me has helped me move forward in confidence. I've not been an addict or homeless; I don't know the way forward for most of the people who sit with us and eat each Wednesday night. But I know the Lord God, and I believe that His word is true, not just for me but for all. And I am committed to proclaiming it. They have helped me to see that this "simple" thing would be enough, and I know that we are in this work together.

Snag a copy of The Naked Gospel

I have mentioned the book The Naked Gospel: The Truth You May Never Hear in Church a couple of times in recent posts, and I wanted to let you know that you can get a free e-book version (and also a Kindle version, for thos of you who are that techno-savvy, available on amazon.com) until October 15th at www.thenakedgospel.com. Please check it out (you will probably want to buy a paperback version once you start reading the e-version), but check it out. It clearly describe the Believer's position in Christ, the great exchange that has already occurred, Christ in you, the hope of glory. It will really challenge your ideas about the life God intends for you as a Believer, and I believe it will bring great freedom to your soul.

Tired of schozophrenic worship

Who am I really in Christ? The Scriptures tell me that I have been recreated in Him, a new creation that is holy and righteous. The Scriptures tell me that I have been given life, and that I have been once and for all reconciled to God. They tell me that I am no longer a slave but a son, no longer unrighteous but righteous. But I get mixed messages on this from the Church.

Often during musical worship and in prayers and sermons I am told that I am an unworthy sinner, that I am a sinful man, that I have no business being anywhere near the Lord. In the same song tonight at a Christian conference there were lyrics calling me to raise my filthy hands and then calling me to raise my holy hands. Which is it - am I an unworthy sinner or a holy saint (and don't tell me it is both)?

Tonight I was told that in order to be forgiven, I have to confess my sins, citing 1 John 1:9, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." What about the sins that I didn't know I committed, the ones that I never confessed? Are those covered, too, or are they held over me, God tsk-tsking me until I remember to say that I am sorry? (For an excellent take on what I think the answer to this is, check out chapter 22 of The Naked Gospel).

When I took communion tonight, the focus was solely on the cross and on forgiveness for what I had done in the past. Has Jesus not paid for my future sins yet, or do they get paid for when I commit them and then confess them? When I confess sin in my life, is to activate God's forgiveness or is it to expose the lie that I have fallen for and bring myself back in line with Truth? Is communion just about the cross and the blood (represented by the cup), or is it also about Christ's body being given that we might have life (represented by the bread)?

Sometimes it seems that modern-day Christianity thinks that we cannot really worship God apart from thinking about how rotten we are, like seeing our sin adds to His glory. And tonight as I wrestled with feeling prideful for not wanting to focus on being a sinner, I wondered if focusing on my sin would be just as prideful. Either way it is about me, isn't it?

The cross and forgiveness were not the end of God's plan - they were the means to the ultimate end, which was God's purpose of restoring life to our sin-dead souls. Romans 5:10 says, "For if, when were God's enemies, we were reconciled [already done!] to Him through the death of His Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through His life." God is holy, righteous, and good, free from sin, and the gift of God to all who receive Christ is that we become holy, righteous, and good, free from the power and enslavement of sin. This doesn't mean that we don't ever sin - I'm too aware of my weaknesses and failures to say anything that absurd. But sin no longer defines me or my relationship to God, and I don't have to keep going back over my failings again and again to have a worshipful appreciation of what God has done for me Christ. I have been taken from death to life, from light to dark, from enemy to son and friend. This has already happened. When I sin, it is an aberration inconsistent with the work of God in me, and my job is not to focus on that sin but instead to remember Who God is, thereby learning who I have been recreated in Christ to be. Seeing God for who He is and recognizing that life in me leads me to worship.

It's as though the Church is afraid to really teach the good news of our new life in Christ, because we can't believe it is really that free, that good, that we could have that little to do with any of it. But it wearies me to be taken back and forth, from sinner to saint, unholy to holy. I am who I am all the time, regardless of my actions or experiences, and this not of myself, it is the gift of God. That does not make me want to sin more but rather exhorts me to live in a manner consistent with the life that is at work in me.

Sin at work in me

I am reading a book called The Naked Gospel: The Truth You May Never Hear in Church by Andrew Farley, and it has been amazing (I first got it free as an ebook and have now ordered it as a real book). I love any books that remind me of the exchanged life message, that remind me that my life is hidden in Christ, that remind me that I am not identified by my failures or successes but in Christ alone, and this one does it very well.

One thing that really stood out to me afresh was his development of Romans 7:14-20, in which Paul says that there is a foreign agent/power at work in me (and you) called sin, which is waging war against the life of Christ in us. This is different from a sin act or sinful things that we have done. And so Paul says, "Now if I do what I don't want to do, it is no longer I who do it, bt it is sin living in me that does it." Sin is in me, but it is not me. And so when thoughts and feelings come to mind that are contrary to the Lord's will, I usually feel like I have completely blown it, that I am destined to always fail and let the Lord down. The reason I feel this is that the thoughts and feelings sound and feel like me. For example, today during church I was thinking on the goodness of God's grace, the refreshment of the Gospel, and then out of nowhere came fearful thoughts about the guy from last Wed night, and then the shame of not trusting God as my refuge. I didn't want to have those thoughts. They just came, but they sounded like me - that was sin at work in me, trying to distract me from dependence on God and His love.

But Scripture is clear that I have died with Christ, and that I have been recreated with His life and His Spirit. And so I agree with Paul in Romans 7:20 that when I don't do the good that I want to do, it is not I but sin at work in me. And it is freeing to know that in my heart of hearts, in my truest place, I do not desire sin. My spirit agrees with Christ and loves all that is holy, right, and good. Because the temptations of sin sound and feel like they come from me, it sometimes feels like saying no to sin is saying no to myself. But as the author says, "As God's workmanship, our regenerated selves are not the problem. Sin is the problem, and our calling as new creations in Christ is to say no to sin and to say yes to who we really are."

So do I still sin? Of course. But I am realizing that the temptations and thoughts do not have to hold sway. They do not have to be obeyed or bowed down to. Instead, I can call them out for the lies that they are, no matter how real they feel, and I am free to live in my standing as a holy and righteous son of God, not based on my own works but on the life of Christ given to me.

I Just Wanted to Preach It, Not Believe It!

Last week at our dinner for the community I preached on Psalm 46, which begins, "God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea." That psalm had really been working in my heart that week as I had wrestled internally with questions of calling and direction, especially, "Be still and know that I am God."

As I preached, a woman who is a regular at the meal walked to the front and stood just below me, coughing a strange, disruptive cough. It wasn't a cough where she was sick - it was very intentional, and someone in the crowd said, "That's a demon." Not knowing what to do and lacking proper intercessory backup, I stopped and prayed quietly, and then finished up. That certainly rattled me.

Then a group of people showed up late for the dinner (we shut the doors at 6:20) and wanted to eat, and we usually don't serve those who come late. Among the group was a guy who has been fairly beligerent in recent weeks due to his involvement in a religion that is very anti-white (not Nation of Islam) and who thinks that our preaching each week is full of lies. As I foolishly engaged him in a small "discussion" of his theology, I was more and more frustrated, and finally I told him that in order to come and eat at the dinner, he needed to stop leading "Bible studies" at his table while the speaker up front was preaching. This didn't sit well with him, and as I walked off he said angrily, "That's OK, because your day is coming. Your day is coming." That shook me more.

Regular readers know that one of my biggest struggles in life is fear, and that fear often overwhelms and even cripples me. That was the case that night as I struggled to think about anything except what he meant by that threat and how he might carry it out. I called a good friend to talk, and when he heard what I had preached on that night he said, "Remember when Jesus was taken to the desert to be tempted? The first thing that Satan attacked was the word that Jesus had just received from the Father. God had just told Jesus that He was His beloved son, and Satan attacks with, 'If you are the Son of God.'" He reminded me that I had just preached on God being a present help in trouble and in the face of fear, and I had been attacked both during the preaching a just after it as well.

Psalm 46 is a great Psalm and there are times when I feel like things in my soul are crashing all around like the mountains, and I need to hear that God is in control. But for me and many of my friends in the church, it's not often that we are really afraid in a physical sense. We have fences and alarm systems and safe neighborhoods and we don't take many risks, if we are honest (and just because I live in Glenwood doesn't mean that I exclude myself from this statement). Moving Psalm 46 from a nice message for "those people" who are on the streets and facing danger all the time into the realm of my own personal, lived theology is harder than I thought. Do I really believe God is my help and my refuge? Am I willing to be still and know that He is God when my mind is racing with worry and irrational fear? I found myself praying Psalm 46 all day Thursday, calling my soul to believe the truth. I'd much rather get to test and live out messages about grace and mercy and hope than messages about trusting God as my shield and safety. But He knew that my night was going to go that way and this is a part of His process of maturing me, growing me in dependence on Christ for the glory of God. Cooperating might be hard, but it is good.