In Common

Once more into the breach with some musings about the incident of Paul and Barnabas being mistaken for Zeus and Hermes...

When Paul gets a chance to talk to this crowd of pagans his first words to them are about their commonalities, not their differences. "We are merely human beings like yourselves!" I was wondering how often when it comes to those big, scary church words like "evangelism" and "witnessing" we wind up pointing out our differences first, while never taking the time to understand and comment on our similarities.

It seems to me that we have much more in common with most people than we think. But when we're so concerned with pointing out our differences (us v. them) we quickly become blind to those experiences that we hold in common. Paul points out the common experiences when he reminds them that God had sent echoes of his presence to them by "rain and good crops and [by] giving you food and joyful hearts." It wouldn't take long for us to find more than a few points of commonality with our neighbors if we actually took the time to look for them.

I guess we're afraid of telling people that we're human beings just like them, because it won't allow us to look down on them if we do. We'll have to take them seriously. We'll be forced to deal with their immortality, and account for how we treat them.

God never leaves himself without a reminder of his presence in the world. Whether it is in the common experience of food and a joyful heart, or in the uncommon healing of a physical body; God shows up to prod us in his direction. I believe God wants to leave us as hints of another world, so that when someone gets near us as individuals or a group, they catch the passing scent of heaven.

Happy Birthday, Aislinn!

I meant to do this earlier in the day, but didn't get a chance to sit down at the computer until now...

Today my little girl turned two.This day two years ago I remember standing by my wife's side looking down towards the doctor who had just taken my new baby in his hands, waiting to hear the decisive word - "boy" or "girl".

My wife had convinced me that we were having a boy - despite my initial inclinations that our delivery would be of the female variety. In fact, Rita had done such a thorough job of convincing me that when the doctor said, "It's a girl!", my actual response was, "Really?"

There's something about a little girl that does crazy things inside a father's heart. I love my son fiercely, he's my firstborn, and he'll always have a special place in my heart. But the emotional flip-flops come with my relationship to Aislinn.

For the first few months of her life, we didn't get along all that well. I distinctly remember (I don't think you forget stuff like this) the first two or three nights after Rita returned to work in the evenings. My three-month old daughter apparently had a daddy tolerance of approximately three hours. Unfortunately, mommy was away from the house for five and a half hours, which made those last two and a half hours seem like they were passing in ultra-cheesy slow motion. Other than my wedding day, I don't think I was ever happier to see my wife walk through any set of doors.

But in two short years, my little girl has changed me in some really profound ways. She has the biggest, most beautiful eyes that sparkle when she smiles. And when those eyes are turned on me, I think she knows that she could ask for the world, and it would be hers. She toddles over towards me and says, "I love you, daddy," and for all the world I can't imagine a more satisfying feeling.

For years I had heard about the "daddy's little girl" phenomenon, and I had never quite understood it. Now I think I do. In ways inexpressible, you know that this little girl is yours to shape and form into a beautiful woman. You know that what she understands of men will be shaped primarily by you. You know that some day she will run away from you and hide her face and withold that hug that is now so freely given, and that day your heart will break. You know that you'll have to dry tear-stained cheeks and kiss away fears. And you know that she will always be your little girl.

I'm blessed to have two amazing women in my life. There's one that I chose to take to myself, to have and to hold from that day forth. And there's one who was given to me two years ago today by a God who, for reasons beyond my understanding, thinks that I can be the daddy she needs. I hope and I pray that I'll be equal to the task and joyful in the privilege of being her father.

Aislinn Claire, you are extraordinary. Happy Birthday!

No Mere Mortals

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations…There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” ~ C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

You are no mere mortal. You are no ordinary person. I am firmly convinced that we misunderstand this reality about ourselves and others more consistently than many others. On another blog I'm reading (The Octavio) we were discussing the ways that we poorly represent Christianity to people like waitstaff at a restaurant. More often than not we simply don't recognize the extraordinary quality of human beings, made in the image of God.

We tend to see all of the baggage, all of the exterior and extraneous stuff that covers over the person inside who is longing to be free. We see the broken-down and cracked visage of men and women who've spent years and years of their lives running from the voice of God calling to them. And when we do, what compassion do we offer them?

When you turn to a broken person and offer a momentary vision of hope, you have revealed yourself as extraordinary. Jesus said that those who would offer even a cup of cold water in his name to such a human being would find that he would ultimately consider it service to him. When we move with power and compassion we unmask ourselves, and show our power and beauty. I suspect that it might be the kind of beauty that at once terrorizes and attracts, a fierce loveliness that arrests the eyes and penetrates the soul.

You are the immortal representation of God's nature and character to this fractured world. Shed the aloof and dispassionate image, kneel down, and serve humanity in the name of Jesus. It is what Jesus himself did. There may be no more powerful demonstration of God in human form than that.

You are no mere mortal. You are extraordinary; and so is your neighbor. Why not show him?

Strategic Acts of Compassion

Good Morning!

Last week we were talking about "leaving your link" in places for people to follow. Looking at the example of Paul and Barnabas on their first missional journey, we saw Paul telling the story, and making the connection for people between their story and the story of God at work in the world. If you want to read further in Acts 14, you'd find the story continues with Paul and Barnabas not just telling the story, but acting with compassion to demonstrate the truth of the story.

It got me thinking about how intentionally we move with power and compassion to meet human beings, many of whom are broken, and desperate to hear or see something that would remind them of God's care and concern for them. More often we seem to follow the "random acts of kindness" mentality, doing good and kind things almost as an afterthought, if we have time (or money) left over after we're done accomplishing the really important things.

I put it this way in my message from Sunday morning: Is it possible that our words and actions could express such a closeness to both God and humanity that our lives would serve as those places where the divine power and compassion are pressed into contact with human frailty and need?

Where can you feel God pressing you into contact with human need? What will you do to release his compassion into that situation?

First Catch

Yesterday was Father's Day, so after our morning service we left to visit my father and grandfather in Connecticut. We had an enjoyable afternoon, good food, good company, and the experience of four generations of men (youngest generation as "man in training") sitting around a table together.

The highlight of my Father's day came spontaneously, though. My wife had bought me a touching card, my kids had colored me pictures, and there had been a gift given (no, not a tie) by Rita and the kids. But after we had finished our dinner, I was sitting with a whiffle ball in my hand, just tossing it up in the air to myself when my son, Jacob, wandered over.

"Throw me the ball, Daddy."

I didn't realize it was our first real catch until about ten minutes later. Sure, it was just a whiffle ball. Yes, I was tossing it underhand. Yes, he stood about 10 feet from me with his hands cupped underhand at his chest while I attempted to toss the ball softly enough that it would land on his hands and roll up to his chest so that he could "catch" the ball.

But somehow it reminded me of days that now seem ancient history when I would stand in that same backyard playing catch with my own dad. The familiar and rhythmic back and forth of the ball passing between generations a comfort and joy to both. It reminded me of this line from one of my favorite movies, Field of Dreams, where Terrence Mann (played by James Earl Jones) says:

The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again.

What is it for you that reminds you of your dad? What reminds you of all that once was good, even if it's gone somehow horribly bad?

Transported

Good Evening!

We had our monthly deacons meeting tonight, and finished up a little early - a good thing so far. But when we had finished we started just talking, sharing thoughts, ideas and passions with each other - great thing. I'm thankful for the way the Spirit was speaking to us, through each of the four of those leaders. It's an amazing and humbling thing to be a part of a moment like that.

I write that in connection with my Monday post on leaving your link because it was a physical manifestation of the reality that I tried to convey there. We were interpreters of the experience for each other, each of us spoke meaningfully because we have interacted with God, and he was leading us to converse with each other. As we linked together a portal was opened (for me at least) into another world, and I could hear the voice of God. Each of us took a risk in sharing something important to us, and the risk was rewarded by a fruitful and encouraging dialogue - something for which I'll always be grateful.

I think some people go their whole lives waiting for the window to open into the world that is beyond this, and waiting for someone who's been there to tell them what it's like. Jesus was the original in this series, reminding his disciples that no one had seen God except one. John wrote about him that "No one has ever seen God. But his only Son, who is himself God, is near to the Father's heart; he has told us about him." And while Jesus was the original, his intent is to make us into his image and likeness. We should be portals to another world.

As connectors to another world, transporters to another place, we will help people to see that the voice they have heard all their lives is in fact the voice of Jesus calling out to them to come and follow. We will be able to remind them that as much as they might believe they search for God, it is even more true and beautiful that God has been searching for them. Perhaps you need to be reminded of that truth. I hope that as you let it sink into your soul, if only for a fleeting moment, you will catch a glimpse of the Father's heart.

• What do you think it will require of us to open up that window to another world?
• What do you think holds you back?
  

Leave Your Link

Good Morning!

Well yesterday I went public. I'm out of the blogging closet, and I invited the people from my church to start coming here to visit, converse, and meet all of you who've already been reading, posting and even lurking. Hopefully the conversation will continue to flow, and maybe some new dialogue will open up as more "conversation partners" enter the fray.

That said, I'm going to redouble my efforts at regular posting. For the moment I'm not going to promise anything on a daily basis - that's probably too much anyway. But I intend to post here at least three times a week, probably Monday, Wednesday and Saturday (or something like that). That's my effort at publishing a blogging routine - let's hope it works for me and for you as well.

As I shared Sunday, we were talking about human beings as links (both physical and spiritual) to another world. The people who help us get a glimpse, even momentarily, of a spiritual world that is even more real than this present world, are like links that transport us to those places where we can hear the voice of God. And the truth is that we all need people like that.

I need to have people in my life who help me to hear the voice of God. I have friends and family who function as just that - links who help provide context to the particular circumstances or situations that I'm dealing with. Many of you know that I participated in the International Mentoring Network while I was out in Los Angeles in May. Those guys (Octavio, Alex, Eric, Dale, and others) were links for me, helping me make sense of the experiences I was having while I was there. You have people like that in your life who can function as interpreters of spiritual experiences for you. If you don't, I think you'll find that there are some of them hanging out here, and that we can help each other along the way.

So my question today is: where are you leaving your link? I've just offered you 5 links to follow, 5 ways to explore something new today, 5 opportunities to interact with someone that you might otherwise never get to meet. If you leave your link behind, and someone follows it, even for a brief moment, then you have the opportunity to connect them to God, to hear his voice and begin to make sense of their lives.

Good Morning!

Good Morning!

It's Sunday, June 12th, and if you're viewing this outside of the physical building called New Life Assembly located at 251 Post Road in Wakefield, Rhode Island, then welcome to the illustration for my message this morning, and thanks for participating!

We're talking about links this morning, and we're discussing the idea that we as human beings can become links to another world. The links that you see to the right of this page tell you a little about me, my friends, and my interests. They function as connectors between you (the reader) and a place that may literally be a world away from where you are.

If I'm crazy enough to admit that I can hear a voice from another world, I'm also crazy enough to believe that I can serve as a link to that other world. I hear the voice of Jesus calling to me to follow him. And while there's no hyperlink on the web that will transport you to that other world, it's my hope and prayer that my presence, both physical and virtual, will serve as a way for you to link to a God who wants to give meaning to your life - past, present and future.

"Too long have you sat in shadows..."

In the comments from the last post, my friend danb made reference to a scene from the book/movie The Two Towers, in which Gandalf the wizard meets Theoden, King of Rohan and his servant Grima, aka Wormtongue.

Here's the description Tolkien gives in his account of the meeting - watch how closely it parallels the Acts 13 passage if you're interested...

"'The wise speak only of what they know, Grima son of Galmod. A witless worm have you become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving man till the lightning falls.'

He raised his staff. There was a roll of thunder...There was a flash as if lightning had cloven the roof. Then all was silent. Wormtongue sprawled on his face.

'Now Theoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me?' said Gandalf. 'Do you ask for help?' He lifted his staff and pointed to a high window. There the darkness seemed to clear, and through the opening could be seen, high and far, a patch of shining sky. 'Not all is dark. Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find...Too long have you sat in shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings.'"

It's quite a scene, one of those I think done great justice in Peter Jackson's filming of the movie. And as I watched it recently, and read almost alongside it the passage in Acts 13, it got me to thinking about how far we are willing to go in pursuit of the voice from another world.

The voice of Jesus that calls to us from beyond this world to follow him will bring us into contact with those who find themselves with all kinds of things attached to them. The shadowy darkness of addictions, the shifting blackness of bad relationships; these attachments drain life from those individuals. The mission of Jesus will cause us to see those in need of release and move with powerful compassion for their freedom.

Gandalf walked into that hall confident of his ability to see Theoden released and restored - do you have a similar confidence in God's ability flowing through you? Who will benefit when you move with the mission of Jesus? Who will step out of the shadows and into the light?

Take it one step further and think some about this - when that person has been released and joins you on the mission of Jesus, can you begin to imagine the things that will be unleashed for the Kingdom of God in his life? Can you even start to dream about what divine potential would begin working itself out of her life as she follows the way of Jesus? Your act of boldness may secure the freedom of a world-changer.

Crazy Times Two

So I was thinking a bit further about my confession from the other day - you know, the one where I talked about hearing voices.

I realized that it's possible for me to be comfortable with hearing God's voice whisper to me, as long as it's for me. I guess I could say that I'm ok with hearing voices as long as what I hear has something beneficial for me. But as I thought more and more about what words God might breathe into my spirit, I considered the possibility that he might want to say something to me that wouldn't benefit me, but someone else.

When Paul and Barnabas heard God's voice calling out to them for the unique thing that he had prepared for them, it is apparent to me that the last thing on their minds was whether or not what God had to say was going to directly benefit them or not. In fact, the opposite seems the case - they understood that the voice of God would call them to sacrifice for the sake of others.

Later in Acts 13 when Paul and Barnabas have dealings with the governor, Sergius Paulus, they find that there is a sorcerer who has attached himself to the governor who wants to prevent him from hearing the words from the heart of God. As Paul recognizes this, he confronts it. What he has heard from the otherworldly voice compels him to act in order to release Sergius Paulus from the attachment that was sucking the life out of him.

What we have heard lilting on the wind as God sings to our souls will move us to act on behalf of those who need to be freed from the things that have become attached to them. When the good news about Jesus begins to set us in motion, it sends us to individuals who need to know what it is to be released from the chains that keep them from living.

I sometimes have to be reminded that God speaks to me not just for my own sake, but for the sake of those to whom he wants me to minister. When God calls to me, it seems almost certain to me that I will not be the only one to benefit. If I am, in fact, then maybe I need to check what voice I'm hearing.

Here's a question I posed to our church yesterday: Who else needs to benefit from what God is saying to you? What will you do about it?

Crazy?

Last week we had some great discussion over on Alex McManus' blog dealing with the idea of hearing voices. The combination of the discussion there, the Think Different Video, and my reflection on a passage in Acts 13 last week led me to some pretty serious consideration of how important it is to be able to hear the voice of the one who calls us from another world.

I used to be somewhat fearful about admitting that I heard voices. I also have been very careful about how many people know that I have had some great conversations with myself over the years. But in my talk at our church this past Sunday I gave my great confession: I hear voices. So the secret is out now, and I'm sure that has done so much to explain to people who know me well just what some of those quirks are that they just couldn't seem to identify before.

I realized during the course of this past week that there are so many voices that call for my attention on any given day, even in any given hour. My wife's sweet voice calls to me and asks me to talk to her, to show her that I'm interested in her. My children's voices seek for my approval, my attention, my love. The voices of those that I serve as a pastor seek to hear my voice to bring them some valuable insight and to speak to them from the heart of God as individuals and as a church.

It seems so easy in the midst of that to neglect hearing the one voice that I must hear over and over again in order to be able to have anything to say or give to any of the others who (for reasons at times inexplicable to me) want to hear my voice. I'm making a renewed commitment to hear the voice of the one who first called me to follow him. That might sound strangely simple for someone who's supposed to help others follow Jesus, but I'll admit that at times my dedication to it falls off.

Jesus calls to me from another world, calls to me from the future to follow him. If I do not hear that voice, I'll be stuck treading water, waiting for the scenery to change.

Are you as crazy as I am? Do you hear the voice, too? What is it telling you? What are you going to do about it?