The Dawning

Happy Mother's Day (Belated)

2006-05-15T17:20:00.000-05:00

I missed the boat on posting this yesterday, but thought I would put it out there today. For the women of our church community this year I decided not to get flowers or some kind of cheesy Christian trinket. I decided to write them a tribute of sorts - part praise and part prayer - that I wanted to inspire them to continue living and loving their children the way God dreams they could.

You see, I’ve been privileged to see up close two amazing mothers - my own mom and my wife. I don’t think I’ve ever once seriously wondered whether my mom loved me or not. It was always quite clear to me that she would do just about anything to see me live the way I think she knew I could. We argued, I rolled my eyes at her, she made corny comments that embarrassed me when I was 13 (and 14, and 15, and 16, and so on), and I’m sure I frustrated her to no end at times. But in everything I never doubted her sincere love and tremendous strength.

And now I am observing from an almost microscopic perspective the strength, character and wisdom it takes for a mother to navigate the troubled waters of preschool aged parenting. My wife works a 30 hour week outside our home for us to make ends meet. But I know (and you do too) that her work doesn’t begin and end when she punches the clock. It has already been ongoing as the children have been fed breakfast and lunch. Jacob has been taken to preschool and picked up again. Aislinn has visited the library, or the store, or a friend’s house. The house has usually been cleaned, the laundry done, and sometimes dinner has been made. I’m astounded by my wife, she simply blows me away. If I weren’t sometimes ashamed by the amount of work she can accomplish and still have time to invest in the kids, I would say how proud I am of her.

So, what I wrote may not apply to every mom, to your mom, or even to most moms you know (or think you know). But it does apply to these two, very unique, extraordinary women who have, moment by moment, changed my life.

Being a mother is not all flowers and cute baby smiles, no matter what the magazines and television ads display. The labor that brought your child into the world is only the beginning of a larger, more powerful work that you’ve been involved with ever since.

The strength of a Godly mother is unmatched by the fiercest of warriors, but is paired with the loving tenderness of a watchful eye and caring hand. The beauty of a Godly mother is unparalleled in a universe of wonders and beauties, and yet is as humble as a knee bent in silent service to kiss away an invisible tear.

They say a mother’s work is never done, and they are nearer the truth than they know. With grace and humility you have offered your gifts to the world of your children. Sometimes you have been rewarded with thanks and praise. And other times your best efforts have been met with refusal and defiance. But each time you have risen to meet the challenge of a new day you have declared your intent to provide a life of love and mercy to your children, no matter the response.

So it is for that labor, lovingly offered and gracefully carried out, that we honor you this morning. And with the honor comes our most sincere prayer for blessing, strength, courage, and wisdom to fulfill your noble calling.

May your strength be renewed by the God whose hands never falter in holding your own. May your beauty be enriched by the God who crowns creation with the most lovely of crowns. And may your wisdom flow freely from the God whose understanding and knowledge is beyond depth and limit.

My Confession

2006-04-11T07:08:00.000-05:00

I shared this with our church on Sunday, as part of my reflection on the record of Jesus' conversation with the immoral woman and Simon the Pharisee in Luke 7:36-50.

It has been called by some the world’s oldest profession; an acknowledgement that as long as we can remember there have been people who sell their bodies for the use of others. So there at the feet of Jesus is a woman of a hundred titles, none of them wholesome, none of them flattering.

Her box of perfume broken, tears streaming from the careworn corners of her tired eyes, she sits hunched over his feet with her hair covering their dust. Habit has taught her to avoid looking men in the eye, and so she pays no attention to the gaping mouths and wide eyed stares of men whose contempt for her is exceeded only by their despite for Jesus.

I can watch the scene unfold; see him turn to the dinner’s host and gently inquire of his soul. I can see the breath of the men leave their lungs when he says her sins are forgiven. The corners of their mouths turned slightly upwards in an indignant gaze pierce my sight and soul.

And yet I’m drawn to the scene unfolding not by their contempt for her, nor their calumnies against him. Riveting my attention in magnetic fashion is the woman who sits unmoving save for the heaving of her chest in stifled weeping.

You see, I see myself in her. I hear in her soft, sobbing cry the echoes of my own voice. The tears so salting her cheeks remind me of moments in which my practiced façade crumbles and a light of truth shines in between the cracks.

How often have I sold myself, borrowing from an unknown future the capital for my present comfort? How often have I sold the dreams of God for my life short of their realization? How long has it been since my soul was touched with the gentleness of a loving God, and not used as a commodity in a barter for service?

I confess (do you hear me?) I have prostituted my heart for the praise of a few, and practiced my trade with a calculated desire for success. I have allowed my thoughts to be massaged into something less beautiful, less pure than the creator’s intent. I have believed the insidious lie that the approval, favor, and dare I say flattery, of another would somehow substitute for the gracious forgiveness of God.

And so I find myself sitting here now at the same dusty feet. My eyes spilling unknown tears, splashing the dust from the toes of my teacher. My ears waiting for the words to come; the words that in their being can somehow make me whole.

“Go in peace, “ he says.

I've been tagged...

2006-03-01T10:31:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I guess I got "tagged" today in some cyber-form of "tag" in which I now become "it" and have to belly up and provide potentially embarassing information about myself in a world wide forum...

Well, it's really not that bad, so here's the dish:

Four Jobs I've Had:

Dishwasher/Prep Cook at Patty Taft's Jazz Supper Club in Ellington, CT (one of my favorite all time jobs)
Flagman for Atlas Fence Inc. which installed guardrail on roads in CT
Pizza Delivery Man for Domino's Pizza in Riverside, RI
Pastor of New Life Assembly in Wakefield, RI (a pretty good gig as well)

Four Movies I can Watch Over and Over:

Lord of the Rings Trilogy (I've done this, believe me)
The Matrix (the original...)
Tommy Boy
Field of Dreams

Four Places I've Lived:

Ellington, CT (where I grew up, and if you pay attention to my profile a.k.a. "Smellington")
Lewiston, ME (while attending Bates College)
Barrington, RI (while attending Zion Bible College)
Charlestown, RI (where I am now)

Four Shows I like To Watch:

24
American Idol
Red Sox Baseball
Ok, I'll confess: What Not to Wear

Four Foods I Like:

*Written while thinking the list would be shorter if it referred to foods I don't like...*
Coffee (not sure if this counts, but I like to think so)
Popcorn (if not dieting as I am currently I love it movie theatre style, slathered with butter)
Swordfish
Ice Cream

Four Sites I Visit Everyday:

Four Things I Want To Do Before I Die:

Go to Ireland
Write a book
Open a cafe
Visit every Major League Baseball stadium

Three People I Am Tagging:

Andrew McNamar
Nick Bousquet
Rita McNamar (though it's questionable whether she'll respond...)

Immersion: Living on Mission

2006-02-22T12:35:00.000-05:00

Good afternoon! I'm blogging to you today again from Java Madness, my favorite coffee shop in town. It's good to sit here, surrounded by people, feeling really, really alive - I love my job!

Anyway, once again I have three short pieces to share with you that I wrote for our Immersion gathering on Sunday evenings. The experience Sunday evening centered on what it means to live on mission with God, as we connect to him, each other and then to our community. We played in the dirt for a little while and shared some good conversation about how we each experience those connections. You'll miss the full effect without the hands-on element, but the written pieces might at least give you some food for thought.

Feel free to comment on any of the pieces anywhere you'd like - let me know your thoughts about what it is to live connected these ways.

Living on Mission: Episode One

2006-02-22T12:25:00.000-05:00

Episode One: Making the God Connection

It's just dirt. Go ahead, reach your hands into it. There's something childlike (you might even say childish) about playing in the dirt. Your mom and dad may have told you not to do it, but there was this other voice inside you that often told you to do it anyway. Maybe it was the unconscious knowing that you are dust, and to the dust you will return. Maybe it was the secret knowing that God himself played in the dirt when he created the first man. Or maybe it was just more fun to obey that inner voice!

Under the dirt, waiting for your discovery is a seed. When you walked in you didn't know it was there – all you saw was a box full of dirt. So it is with most of our lives; the best things seem to lie hidden, buried under other layers waiting to be seized upon at precisely the right moment.

Almost as if from beneath layers of dirt and residue, God's voice seems to call out to us hoping we will be brave enough to reach towards him. Hoping we will forget the other voices that tell us to keep our hands out of the dirt, he calls for us to sink our hands deep into the soil, searching for the seed of promise he longs to give us. At times the beginning of the process feels an awful lot like groping in the dark, wishing to somehow hit on the something indescribable that we felt stirring in our souls.

But the feeling of success when you finally make the connection is incomparable. The difficult part is maintaining the connection once it's made, because there will always be other prizes that vie for your eyes, your hands, even your heart. But there is no greater prize than this connection to God; no greater seed of higher promise than the one he buries for us to find. He grasps you more than you'll ever grasp him. But his grasping is not that of command and control, rather it is the liberating call to live your life fully, finally, alive.

You've connected to the source of life – and so life can never be the same again.

Living on Mission; Episode Two

2006-02-22T12:20:00.000-05:00

Episode Two: Making the People Connection

You didn’t know it then, but when you connected to God, you connected to everyone else who has joined themselves to God. You didn’t know it, and you may not have intended to, and it might scare you a little bit to think about what that means; but whether you wanted it or not, the connection was made.

The same life and vitality that is flowing into you is flowing into them. They’ve been liberated to follow the calling of the God who holds your future in his hands. And whether you know it or not, you need those people you’ve connected to. You are not traveling to that future on a solo journey, and you will not arrive on your strength alone.

When you rose from the dirt, the God-seed held in your hands, you rose as a new person, with a new network of relationships, some that you’re still just beginning to discover. It is these unexpected connections that will enrich your journey forward. The strange delight of an unlooked for word of encouragement; or the newly discovered pleasure of friends whose hearts and hands hold the same seed of promise – these are yours to be treasured and enjoyed.

You do not have to be left to grope in the dark again. On the other end of your seed will be one, two, or a hundred whose tears, fears, and joys will be your own, and yours will be theirs. Those bonds of love that were formed in the nurturing soil of God’s presence are stronger than any you have ever known. They don’t tear easily because they were made with the strongest of fibers, and they are sustained by the life-giving flow of Jesus’ love. God, the master planter, is creating a bountiful, beautiful garden from those related seeds.

Go ahead and give up on independence – it was an illusion anyway. Embrace the abundant joy of a life intertwined with those making the same journey, it will make the path that much sweeter.

Living on Mission: Episode Three

2006-02-22T12:15:00.000-05:00

Episode Three: Making the Community Connection

The seed you grasped in your hand was meant to grow, not to remain in your hands. If you were meant to be commanded and controlled, and to have yourself moved about like a puppet on the strings, you might be expected to hold it fast. But you were called and liberated to live freely, and in your living, to produce more life.

The life flowing to you, from the source, does not end with you. It flows through you, ending in a fruitful connection to the rest of the community in which we have been planted. When you connect to God, holding that seed in your hand, you are promised more than just a better life for you, you’re promised the kind of life that creates opportunities for others to connect to God.

When we think about the beauty of a tree or a flower, we don’t think of it in the seed, or the branches, but in its fruit. When the flower blossoms, or the tree puts forth its fruit, it is then that we look on its loveliness in wonder and awe. The seed you hold in your hand has the potential to be beautiful – all of the splendor that can be is within that seed. The connections you make to others in the garden of God will support you, sustain you and inspire you to keep growing. But without fruit, those other connections will ultimately be in vain.

You will find that this is what you were meant to live for. A fruitful and productive connection to your community will inspire you to continue connecting to God, seeking over and over the source of your life. You will never have been more beautiful, your life never more attractive than when you’ve allowed your seed of promise to come to fulfillment.

Go ahead and eat the fruit – here’s to the promise of a better, more fruitful life!

The Party (Part II - Spiritual)

2006-02-07T22:10:00.000-05:00

Good evening…I enjoyed a hand-crafted caffeinated beverage earlier this evening that I would normally call a cappuccino, but didn’t qualify as such. Made some horrible foam, and ended up with a latte - guess you can’t get it right all the time. On the positive side it gave me a chance to explain to my four year old son, Jacob, the difference between a good cappuccino and a latte. I think he grasped it. I’ve consistently told friends that I’m looking forward to the day that Jake can make my coffee for me, maybe that will be some kind of “coming of age” ritual, who knows?

Anyway, I started in my last post telling a parable of sorts that I shared with our church community a couple of Sundays ago. It was a parable in three parts, or with three aspects, so this post will touch the second aspect of the parable.

So, imagine we actually get out of the basement, out of the huddle. Imagine we are somehow able to conquer our fears and allow our presence to be felt in the party to which we invited them. Imagine that we make our way up to the party, accompanied by the King of the Kingdom, who wants his presence to be felt more than anything else.

What would our guests see when they arrived? Imagine with me that they saw a group of people who knew what it was to celebrate. That they saw some people who sang their songs with the passion of a person on a long road trip with the windows down and radio blasting. That they saw some people who laughed long and loud like their life depended on their ability to enjoy it. That they saw people whose joy was written on their faces plainer than their noses. That they saw people who celebrated like this life was not their last, but just the beginning of a greater party.

They might be surprised by just what they saw. Because they know the reputation of these stodgy, arms-crossed, uptight, New England church people. They don’t laugh, they don’t sing, and they certainly don’t show anything with their faces other than looking down long imperious noses at sinners like them. Somehow these people have transformed into the most beautiful and celebratory group, and they can’t help but want to be there.

They see a group of people who know that Spirituality doesn’t drain the joy out of life, but rather infuses it with a greater joy than has ever before been known. And there, in the center of the party, is the life of the party. He’s remarkably at ease in this setting, and it appears that his joy has been transferred to every other host at the party. He’s the King, and even the guests can tell who he is, and why he’s there.

On that mid summer evening with soft breezes blowing and music lightly playing there is something else in the air. It couldn’t be described as faint, it’s too powerful to be faint. It’s what makes the atmosphere electric, it’s what ignites the celebration of these curious saints. This night the party is alive, and at the spiritual center is this group of men and women whose connection to the king is undeniable and tangible.

The Party (Part I - Presence)

2006-02-02T21:05:00.000-05:00

Good evening! I'm enjoying a hand-crafted (by my own hands) cappuccino at the moment, while reflecting on some ideas I shared with our church community this past Sunday. I suppose it was my best and halting attempt at a written parable trying to express my hopes and dreams for how we as followers of Jesus would interact with our local community. It was inspired by one of Jesus' shorter parables, in which he says, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like yeast used by a woman making bread. Even though she used a large amount of flour, the yeast permeated every part of the dough.”

The great power of Jesus' parables are in their ability to catch people off-guard, and, in effect, take the back door route into the hearts of his audience, setting them up for the truth he's delivering. In that vein, I offer my meager attempt at creating at least the framework of a parable to try to communicate truth to our church community.

Imagine with me this morning that we were going to throw a huge party for our community. Imagine if we were going to invite the community to attend our party, and we could send out an invitation in the mail to every single resident of South Kingstown. Make this party in your mind a real high-class affair, the kind that you’d get dressed up for, and that we wanted to make the invitation formal enough to match the occasion. So we send out this invitation that says, “New Life Assembly requests the honor of your presence at its Gala Celebration…”

Believe it or not, our invitations are actually received and accepted. Replies begin to pour in from around the town, with only a few declining the invitation. The tension mounts among us as we wonder what we'll do when they arrive. The preparations begin in earnest as the appointed day draws closer.

Finally the night arrives. It's a beautiful mid-summer evening, with a light breeze blowing off the ocean that makes the temperature just right. And there are streams and streams of cars driving from all over South Kingstown, parking up and down the streets around us, making their way to the doors of the building. Inside the building and out on the lawn the arrangements are all in place. The background music is playing and the scent of perfectly prepared seafood fills the night air. They can see in the windows and under the tents that everything is prepared but that the doors are locked, and there’s no one there to greet them, welcome them, and find their seats for them.

Looking in the doors our guests have the sinking feeling that they've somehow been duped - like guests that show up to a wedding only to find the bride and groom have flown to Vegas and gotten married in front of Elvis and two witnesses. "You would think," one says, "that they would have the courtesy to show up for their own party!"

Meanwhile the church gathers in the basement, huddled together (for strength is in numbers) too afraid (for all their strength) to open the doors and let its presence be felt among their guests. Too afraid that somehow the throngs of people at the door will overwhelm them, and turn against them if the food isn't up to quality, or the musical entertainment for the night is sub-par. Forgetting all the while that the King of their Kingdom has been waiting for the celebration to make his presence felt through them; they retreat, hoping to survive just one more day.

Happy Birthday, Jacob!

2006-01-18T13:45:00.000-05:00

Today my son, Jacob, turns four. In case you're bad with math that means that four years ago today, Rita and I were in a hospital room, and she was (admirably and with great strength) preparing to bring our first child into the world.

It seemed like there were literally thousands of emotions that danced through my mind during those few hours that we spent in that room waiting for his arrival.

I had always thought I'd make a good father. Perhaps I was a little too confident in my own abilities, because I soon learned how difficult of a proposition that can really be. It requires great patience when you feel you have very little of it to offer. It requires an unrelenting kind of love that refuses to wilt in the face of intense conflict (if you've ever had a four year old child, you know of what I speak...). And it demands a lot of wisdom and skill that, many times, I frankly find myself lacking.

This afternoon Jacob and I went out to lunch at Friendly's for his birthday lunch (see above photo). I'd like to say it's a tradition, but since this is the first time, I'm not sure it qualifies yet. We had as advanced a conversation as possible as he munched on his grilled cheese and moved quickly to the all-important hot fudge sundae.

Jacob is four, but I feel like I've grown up a lifetime in the short years he has been part of my life. I have learned so much from him, and I can only hope that he's learning some things from me. His quiet and sensitive spirit remind me that patience and compassion are qualities that are reflective of our heavenly father. His inquisitive mind reminds me that there are some mysteries that should still take me by surprise, and that it's ok to say, "I don't know." His imagination intrigues me, helping me remember what it's like to create and dream, and inspiring me to do the same. And his energy - well, his energy reminds me that when you're passionate about something, you find the energy to pursue it.

Jacob, four years ago your arrival into my life brought such light and joy. I see them still in your face today, and I love what I see.

Happy Birthday, Jacob!

Friendship

2006-01-18T10:45:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I wrote to a good friend of mine a short email. The text consisted mainly of a short quotation from C. S. Lewis’ book, The Four Loves.

“I have no duty to be anyone’s Friend, and no man in the world has a duty to be mine. No claims, no shadow of necessity. Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”

Tomorrow I will go to help the guy I consider to be my best friend pack up a moving truck as he prepares to move from Rhode Island to Maryland. We’ll see each other again, I’m sure of it. And there’s this great blogging innovation that will allow us to keep opening windows into our souls for each other. But I can’t help but feeling, at least for the moment, that there will be something missed in the distance.

I’ve been reading a children’s book to my two kids almost every day for a week (you parents know how this goes…). It’s about a turtle named Franklin who has a bad day because his best friend is moving away. I don’t know if you’ve ever gotten teary-eyed while reading a children’s book, but it’s a pretty humbling experience. In that little kids book I was seeing the way that moving affects friendship, but was also reminded that it doesn’t destroy friendship, just reshapes it in a new way.

Our friendship has not been one of duty, nor necessity; but I can say without hesitation that it has given great value to my life in this world. Through our friendship I’ve grown as a man, a husband, a father, and a church leader. Through our friendship I’ve learned the value of character, consistency, and most of all, of having a deep and enduring passion for the work of God’s Kingdom.

Friendship may be unnecessary, but it is certainly not trivial. Its beauty derives from its rarity. God has, with this friendship, given me a rare gift. I hope that even as it changes, it will retain its beauty.

Thanks, Dale, for walking with me. And wherever the road winds from here, I trust our paths will continue to meet.

Immersion: Hatred to Love

2006-01-09T14:15:00.000-05:00

Good Afternoon! There are three posts that follow this one that are from writings for our Sunday Evening experience we call Immersion. This month we were exploring how God transforms us in our character from people haunted by hatred, to people living for love.

The written pieces are meant to form somewhat of a journey, and are written for the purpose of reflection, so I'd encourage you to take a few moments in between to think about your own experience as it relates to what you're reading. You'll be missing out on the physical elements (each written piece had a corresponding element, see below) we used on Sunday to add to our experience, but I hope you'll be able to enjoy the experience nonetheless.

The Elements:
Hatred towards others - A broken picture frame
Hatred towards self - A cracked mirror
Hatred meets Love - The elements of communion and a scene from The Passion of the Christ
Love towards self - A mirror (whole)
Love towards others - A picture frame (whole)

Immersion: Haunted by Hatred

2006-01-09T14:10:00.000-05:00

Hatred to Love

Towards Others

Human history is a legacy of broken relationships, of hatred settling under the surface, only to break out in moments of tension and pain. And you and I live in that legacy. Try as we might we couldn’t escape it.

We harbor the anger and bitterness deep in our own souls, hating those who have used us, betrayed us, and beaten us down. We can’t see straight, the cracks get in the way, distorting what we see. The picture is fractured, and we can’t seem to find the glue to make it whole again.

And so we rage at others, sometimes silently, sometimes violently. We hate them for the arrogance, hate them for their hurting us, even hate them for daring to be different than us. We have clever ways of disguising it, but it’s there. “Hate the sin, love the sinner,” we say, while we privately loathe them both.

And all the while we blame the hatred of humanity on those we all can deem worst – the Nazis, the racists, the engineers of genocide and destruction. But, if we are honest, we’d have to pause in the midst of the assigning of blame. We’d have to pause to wonder how we’re contributing to it. We’d have to consider whether our own hatreds of people privately held are any better than those more public examples. We’d have to wonder if we’re not all looking through broken picture frames at each other, throwing more stones, causing the glass to crack even more.

What’s that they say about those in glass houses?

Towards Self

But it can all be a very clever disguise, can’t it? Masquerading as our spite for others is often a deeper issue, it’s the way we camouflage a hotter battle that rages within our hearts – the battle of self-hatred.

There are certain things about us that are exposed only to us and God, and those ugly things that lie somewhere in our hearts haunt us whether waking or sleeping. The arrogance we are so quick to point out in others sleeps unguarded in our own hearts. The greed we condemn so freely growls hungrily from our own hearts. The lust we recognize in the wayward glance of another lurks unchecked in our own hearts. And we hate them for being there, hate ourselves for letting them stay.

Our inability to overcome weakness, our insufferable human frailty; all feed this internal engine of war, bent on our own destruction. We hate and love ourselves, and we can’t decide which will win. We’re torn because, when it comes down to it, we wonder if we aren’t deserving of the hatred of others, and the hatred of ourselves, maybe even the hatred of God.

We’re holding a broken mirror, and even our own image is distorted through its cracks. But when it’s the only image we’ve ever known, well, what can we possibly do with that?

Immersion: Hatred meets Love

2006-01-09T14:05:00.000-05:00

Hatred Meets Love

But the self-hatred is not the worst of it yet. Secretly, silently and even without admitting it, we engage in our own personal cold war with the God who created us. We stare at him defiantly, or look away willingly, but we let him know our intent. Maybe he made us defectively, or maybe we are his royal idea of a divine comedy – a wretched experiment in humor.

If it’s even possible, we seem to resent this God, who, even when we try to follow him, somehow seems at best disinterested, and at worst, opposed. The more we shake our fists in rage in his direction, and the more cruel arrows we fire in his direction, the more compassionate his response becomes. In a very broken way, we almost want him to hate us and show it because death, damnation and judgment might be better than what we think is indifference.

Hatred would be more bearable than that agonizing love. “Love for what?” we ask. “For this pitiful, horrifying thing we call humanity? Anyone who can love this stinking pile of filth and flesh should let his love turn to anger and wash us all away in a cosmic, cleansing tidal wave.

And then maybe you see it. Perhaps for one God-forsaken moment your eyes behold a blood-drenched, mutilated creature; strips of rotten human flesh hanging laid bare by the worst of human hatred and cruelty. You see his broken body violently convulse – a captive form, stretched from end to end as his life pours out, spent like a wrung sponge.

You look away because the horror of the sight is overwhelming. You look away because you can see your own hatred on display. You can see there the rottenness of this human experiment, the blackness of a human heart wracked with hatred – and you know that it is, in part, your own.

Your eyes wish to turn. Your stomach turns within you and begs you to look away. But your heart – your heart tells you to keep looking. You heart tells you that in all of the black filth of human hatred there is a vision of divine love. Your heart betrays your eyes, and you find a beauty somehow deeper than flayed skin and broken bones.

See here this body, broken by hate bears deeper the marks of God’s perfect, painful love. See here this blood shed in violence stains the human heart with the peace of surpassing beauty. You are invited to touch, to smell, and to taste the love of God willingly extended to wash away hatred, and leave you standing like a person newly born – a person who lives to love.

You are loved, and he asks for your love to be given in return. What will you say to that?

Immersion: Living to Love

2006-01-09T14:00:00.000-05:00

Towards Self

Standing there, like a person newly born, we understand at last that the hatred has been washed away, and in its place there has come this living, breathing love.

When you’ve seen your hatred crucify the King of Love, and you understand that it’s been done for the love of you, well, that changes things, doesn’t it? In place of the broken and distorted image, there is a proper perspective, a right way of looking at yourself.

When the King of Love, whose face was twisted and broken by hate looks lovingly back towards you, cries out for your forgiveness and stretches his punctured hand out towards you to receive you, you can see how God changes hatred to love.

Where once you longed to see a new image in the mirror, something without the fractures and cracks, you now are given the ability to see yourself made whole. Your hatred healed by the wounds of love, you stand complete.

It’s amazing, love is greater than hatred. For all of it’s power, hatred cannot create anything, it can only destroy. But love – love can create. Love has created, and it can re-create you. Go ahead, look at yourself. Love overcomes hatred, it will for you if you’ll let it.

Towards Others

Picture perfect. Sight restored. What you couldn’t see clearly in others before, you now can see. When you’ve allowed the King of Love to re-create you, you can’t long live full of hatred towards any to whom he extends his offer of love.

Sinners and saints alike receive the loving attention of your re-born eyes. When the King of Love whispers their names in your ears, your eyes water with gratitude that he could let you love them.

In place of cracked glass that prevented you from seeing your neighbor whole, you have a new frame with which to view the world. But be careful, be very careful. The glass can crack again, if you treat it carelessly. You must guard its newness well.

Do not take lightly this power you hold in your hands – the power to look with love on the unlovely, to freely offer grace where it is least deserved. Do not let yourself fall back into the trap of hatred and anger, or it will ruin you again.

“Jesus replied, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the other commandments and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”
~Matthew 22:37-39

The Promise of Sacrifice

2006-01-04T14:40:00.000-05:00

Good Afternoon!

Blogging to you today from my favorite coffee shop - Java Madness, where I'm enjoying a fine cappuccino, prepared perfectly by Rachel (who also happens to make excellent music with her band, Can't Face the Falling).

I've been doing a lot of thinking and praying about this year that has recently arrived, and I have to say, I'm really looking forward to it. I'm not sure why, but I have this almost palpable sense of promise to the year, and I'm excited about the possibilities that God is setting in front of me personally, and our church corporately.

I shared some of my thoughts with our church on Sunday, and I find it only a little ironic that in this year that I'm feeling so positive about, the word that keeps stirring my thinking is "sacrifice".

In the spring of last year, while musing on the future of our church, and my role in it, I came across this scripture from John, chapter 12, where Jesus shares a really powerful (and somewhat dangerous) principle. He says, "...a kernel of wheat must be planted in the soil. Unless it dies it will be alone - a single seed. But its death will produce many new kernels - a plentiful harvest of new lives. Those who love their life in this world will lose it. Those who despise their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. All those who want to be my disciples must come and follow me, because my servants must be where I am. And if they follow me, the Father will honor them."

I've rarely had trouble applying this truth to my life (at least in theory, practice is another thing altogether). It's almost axiomatic for those of us who've been around Christianity for any length of time that we must "die to self" repeatedly in order to follow Jesus. With all of our talk of this, we'd probably all be able to admit that we've done it far less than we ought to have.

And in reality, I think we've thought less (if at all) of the application of this way of seeing ourselves in a corporate, local church sense. Perhaps the church in its local application needs to be continually in this process of dying to itself in order to really be faithful to the One we are called to represent.

I'm going to do my best this year to lead our church to reflect on what it would mean for the church to die to itself in order to be reborn in the image God wants to create for us. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's going to be somewhat painful, maybe a little messy, and a little fearful. But I think I've realized that if we love our life as it is right now too much, we're going to become overly attached to it (its building, its programs, its budgets and structures) and we may end up passing on something better that God has prepared for us in our efforts to hold what we have.

We've been given this seed, it's been placed in our hands. Our building, budget, and resources of all kinds have been entrusted to us. I wonder if in order to maximize our return, and really make the investment eternal, we have to sow them into the ground, let them die there, and allow God to resurrect them.

I hope to find on the other side of this process of following Jesus' example that we will find, in Jesus' words, that "the Father will honor them."

Random, Disconnected Thoughts

2005-12-14T13:43:00.000-05:00

1. Joy is much more powerful than I ever realized.
2. Despair goes deeper than I ever imagined.
3. My hope is not enough for you, it can only point you in the right direction.
4. Grace is good. Really good.
5. My kids know more than I do. Really, they do.
6. For instance, Jacob knows that 10 minutes is a long time.
7. Aislinn knows that she has me wrapped around her finger with a wink and a smile.
8. I take my wife for granted way too often. Thanks, Rita, for sharing this life with me.
9. Reading The Lord of the Rings trilogy helps me rekindle my faith. It's too complicated to explain, but the story moves me in very deep ways.
10. True friendship is a gift that can't be easily replaced. I'm learning how valuable my friends are.
11. I give gifts because I want to be accepted, to be received and embraced. And I want to offer the same.
12. I have an amazing job. Thank you, God, for letting me serve you this way.

Hope Rekindled

2005-12-06T14:06:00.000-05:00

Here's another piece I wrote for our Sunday evening gatherings, called Immersion:

We came from hope. There is light that cannot be touched by darkness. Beyond this world; beyond this dark and cold desert of despair, there is the God of hope. There is the one who gave birth to a world full of hope, and who watches it descend over and over into the depths of despair.

He watches, and sometimes he watches the hope die inside of us. Some days it is crushed under the insufferable weight of earthen expectations incapable of being fulfilled. Other days hope is drowned in the icy waters of loneliness and isolation. And still other days hope dies a suffocating death at the hands of those who seem bent on our destruction.

But as often as hope dies, there is the possibility of its rebirth. The flame may be extinguished for a moment, but the God of hope will not long leave us drifting in the dark and cold. Flames can be kindled again. Whether buried in earth, quenched in the water, or suffocated, they can rise again. They must simply find their way back to the source once more.

For as much as we might believe that we have lost hope, the enduring, beautiful reality is that hope has never lost us. While we may sit in the ashes of dreams long ago extinguished, he sees us, and he knows us.

He is the one who was not content to watch the descent from a distance. He is the one who, in the form of a man, experienced the blackness and coldness that is death. He is the one who saw hope fail while his own blood brightly stained the rough wood of a crude cross.

But somehow, impossible as it might seem, hope has escaped from despair. Death did not have the last word, there was life, and light, again. You may have lost your way, but the Way has not lost you. He is finding you, longing to ignite your candle once again to burn bright with his hope.

The Improvisational Life

2005-11-15T21:05:00.000-05:00

Welcome back!

Now brewing one of my absolute favorite blends from Starbucks - Caffe Verona. This time I get the privilege of darkening it with a small bit of cream fresh from the farm, and sweetening it with just about a half teaspoon of sugar.

I just looked back over recent posts and realized the blogging funk I referenced on my birthday has continued - I've really gotta do something about that...

This past Sunday I was talking to our church about the possibilities of living an improvisational life. I was thinking about the reality that when Paul has to repeat his story of conversion and calling before those sitting in his judgment, he continually connects himself with historic Judaism, but also tells how he is reaching forward. He's connected to the past, but creating the future.

The analogy that came to me (with a little help from Doug Pagitt's book, Preaching Reimagined) was of a jazz musician playing an improvised solo. He can improvise not because he ignores all the rules, but precisely because he is deeply aware of the rules of music. He knows how the chords progress. He knows how good melodies are composed. He knows how the music in the piece has led up to his moment, and he knows where the piece is going when he's finished his solo. Because he knows this, he is able to play with confidence and passion - and what he plays is beautiful and compelling.

Sometimes when we are following the Way of Jesus at work in the world, we doubt our abilities and permission to improvise. We end up playing someone else's song, written with someone else in mind, and we play notes written on a page rather than improvising the song God places in our soul. We have tremendous freedom to improvise within the Way of Jesus. We were not re-born to simply play someone else's song. We were re-born so we could play the music written on the surface of our soul.

Sometimes in improvisation you're going to hit a wrong note. Sometimes you're going to miss the way the music has flowed in the past, or mistake the direction it's going in the future. But living an improvisational life is always going to be more God-honoring than simply following some script, convinced we have no freedom to play the music God freed us for.

Start playing. He's listening.

Immersion - Fear to Faith

2005-11-03T07:38:00.000-05:00

Good Morning! Welcome back, I'm glad you came. We're presently brewing Starbucks Kenya Bold blend. If you were here, I'd make you a cup myself, and make another one for me. All this despite the recent discussion I had with my doctor who says that some of the indigestion/heartburn, etc. that I often feel in the morning could be at least partially alleviated by a reduction in the amount of coffee I'm drinking (which is actually not a lot compared to some intake amounts I've heard from others...)

I wanted to post some of the writings from our last Immersion Experience here for you to read, enjoy, and interact with if you'd like. We explored the journey from people dominated by our fears to people who live with a dramatic faith and confidence in the God we serve.

God takes us from fearing failure to anticipating success (symbolized by the tastes of horseradish and honey):

Let’s start with the obvious – no one likes to fail. We don’t wake up every morning looking for the next big thing that we can mess up. We don’t lie awake at night wondering how we’re going to change the world with our next great failure. So often we try like crazy to insulate ourselves from failure. We do the things we know we can do because what we don’t know can hurt us. Failure tastes bitter. It leaves a bad taste in our mouths. And once we’ve tasted its sting, we don’t want any part of it again.

But as hard as it is to imagine, or for us to swallow, we often taste failure before sweet success. And when it comes to dealing with God, what we don’t know, can actually heal us. Sometimes we forget that, if we’re seeking to follow Jesus, then he is working with us. And that even in the bitter aftertaste of failure, he may be preparing the table before us for the flavor of sweet success. We may need to be reminded that in the presence of laughing and mocking enemies, he sets the table for our celebration and delight.

With God, all things can become new. Failure’s taste does not have to ruin your palate. God wants to help you taste the honey again – in this life and the next.

God takes us from fearing rejection to embracing acceptance (symbolized by the smell of rotten tomatoes and roses)

Rejection stinks. Worse than being pelted with rotten tomatoes is the lingering sense that you somehow don’t belong. Perhaps somewhere deep inside we all struggle with where and how we belong. Maybe even the most self-assured, confident individuals wonder about their place in the world. After all, it’s a big universe, with a lot we don’t know. And what (or who…) we don’t know can hurt us. It can reject us, turn us away, and set us adrift on a sea troubled with waves of loneliness and fear.

But as revolting and horrid as the experience of rejection is, much more beautiful and pleasant is the experience of acceptance. The familiar feeling of being turned away can be overwhelmed by a single, welcoming embrace of acceptance. When it comes to God, what we don’t know may actually heal us. No matter where you’ve been, what you’ve done, or who has pelted you with the rotten tomatoes of rejection, the God who created you is waiting to accept you.

With Him all things can become new. The stink of rejection can be swept away, replaced by the beautiful scent of the red, red rose.

God takes us from fearing change to celebrating freedom (symbolized by a blank canvas on which participants can paint):

You can only stare at the blank canvas for so long. It will not paint itself. Images won’t appear on its surface without the hand of an artist picking up a brush and applying the paint. “I’m not an artist,” you counter, “I can’t paint.” That might be what you say, but you don’t really mean that you’re afraid of picking up the brush, putting some paint on its bristles, and applying the paint to the canvas. You mean that you’re afraid that when you make those changes to the canvas, they’re not going to be acceptable to anyone else. It won’t look like what you think it should, or what you think they think it should.

No, you’re not going to create a masterpiece on your first attempt. The blank canvas of your life stares back at you, waiting for something to be created; you need to pick up the brush and find the freedom God wants to give you. Because ultimately it’s not your hand at work on the canvas of your life – it’s God’s. And his desire is to take your fears, and set you free to live the life of his dreams.

With Him all things can become new. Your blank canvas is about to become a masterpiece – can you believe the beauty?

God takes us from fearing loss to enjoying sacrifice (symbolized by a musical selection: “My Immortal” by Evanescence)

We start losing things at an early age. We learn to find ways to protect our stuff – toys, books, and others – from those who would cause us loss. You soon figured out how to say, “Mine!” to the intruders who came into your home and played with your possessions. We grow up, the possessions become more expensive, the relationships more complex and yet the fear of losing what’s important to us never seems to go away. Whether possessions or people, we can become borderline obsessive about our need to hold on to what we have. What we don’t know about what we might lose can hurt us, and so we cling to what is ours like a three year old to his favorite toy.

And so haunted by echoes of losses past and hunted by fears of losses future we hold fast to the known. Grasping for what we have, we fail to see the joy of a beautiful sacrifice. Believing we can control only what we own, we stubbornly refuse to freely give anything or anyone in offering to our creator. But hear the mysterious strains of the song of sacrifice, calling down from the ancient past as the cross of Christ sings to you. As backwards as it seems, Jesus says that the one who chooses to lose his life and all of its possessions now will find a greater, more enjoyable life; and the one who chooses to keep what he has will lose it in the end, because it can’t be kept anyway. What you don’t know, what lies on the other side of the sacrifice, can actually give you life.

In the sacrifice, everything becomes new. Your song is being sung, your music has changed.

Turning on Word Verification for Comments

2005-10-31T19:39:00.000-05:00

Hi! Welcome back and thanks for stopping by.

This is mostly a post as a matter of information. Due to the recent advent of comment spamming on my blog, I'm turning on word verification for the comment feature. It simply means that if you want to comment, it'll take you an extra 5 seconds or so to do so because you'll have to type in the letters you see in the bottom of the window that pops up for your comments.

Sorry for the inconvenience this causes, but I guess it's a necessary evil for the moment.

The World is Flat

2005-10-25T07:24:00.000-05:00

I saw this book a few months ago while browsing around at the local Barnes and Noble. The title intrigued me, and I made a mental note to check it out at some point. My birthday brought me some extra cash (thanks to anyone reading this who contributed to that...) and freed me up to buy some books - something I hadn't done for quite some time.

Friedman's topic is globalization, what he calls the flattening of the world, creating almost unbelievable partnerships that are unlimited by the boundaries of nations and states. He writes in a pretty accessible way considering the depth and breadth of his topic, and I've enjoyed my reading to this point.

He writes about the ten forces that flattened the world, ranging from political events (the destruction of the Berlin Wall) to economic principles to technological advances. One of these in particular stood out to me - he calls it "Open-Sourcing: Self-Organizing Collaborative Communities". I couldn't help but think about how much that sounded like what the church was supposed to be. And then as I read this particular section, I came across this great line in which Friedman is quoting some guy I've never heard of before (Irving Wladawsky-Berger): "This emerging era is characterized by the collaborative innovation of many people working in gifted communities, just as innovation in the industrial era was characterized by individual genius." (Emphasis mine)

Going back a couple of months to my musings on synergy, I kept hearing a description of the church in those phrases. What if we were known as a place where the collaborative innovation of gifted people was always taking place? What if when people heard the word, "church", they thought of that image rather than of a place that valued standardization, conformity, and uniformity?

I was so excited when I read this. Here's a guy writing a book about globalization in the 21st Century, probably mostly for an audience of people interested in how their business is going to fit in this new flat world, and I'm hearing echoes of God whispering to me about what the church could be. It's amazing how people validate through their research and study things that God has been saying for a long time. Paul wrote in I Corinthians 12 that "there are different kinds of spiritual gifts, but it is the same Holy Spirit who is the source of them all...a spiritual gift is given to each of us as a means of helping the entire church."

If the world is flat, then the church should be the organism best suited to lead the way forward into the 21st Century. Can you imagine if Thomas Friedman had to write his next book about the ways that the church is leading the movement of collaborative innovation among individuals participating in gifted communities?

Turning 30...

2005-10-12T11:48:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'll admit, my recent posting to the blog has been, well, not recent at all. Sorry for that, I'm going to try to do better.

Today's my thirtieth birthday. Thirty years ago today my father tells me that Luis Tiant was pitching the Red Sox to a victory in the first game of the 1975 World Series. Actually, The Baseball Almanac tells me that Dad's memory is off by one day. In fact, on Sunday October 12, 1975, Bill "The Spaceman" Lee was pitching, and the Sox lost 3-2 as the Reds scored two in the ninth - it was all downhill from there. Recorded in my baby book in my mother's handwriting is the simple statement, "1975 - it was the year the Red Sox almost won the World Series."

Boy, a lot of rain has fallen since that rainy day 30 years ago, and much water has passed under many bridges (including, of course, the Red Sox immortal triumph in the 2004 World Series). And I'm left here pondering my mortality.

I've recently been wondering what it is about this transition, this epoch-marking passing from 29 to 30 that feels so significant. I'm left to think that this past decade has involved some of the bigger changes in my life. In 1997, at the ripe old age of 21, I stood at the altar of a West Virginia church and took vows to love, honor and cherish the joy of my life. A year later I graduated from college, and got my first "real" job; working as an Assistant Pastor in a great church in Rhode Island. A little over a year after that I left that church to become the pastor of New Life Assembly, the place where I currently serve as pastor. In January of 2002 Jacob was born, and then a short year and a half later Aislinn arrived in the world. A lot has changed from 20 to 30.

All of those changes have, in fact, been for the better in my life. My wife has made me a better man. My children are teaching me patience day by day. The church in which I serve has been so gracious and generous with my youthful enthusiasm (and let's be honest, youthful errors as well). God has been at work in some major ways in the last decade of my life. I trust that he's got more planned for the next decade as well.

I'm left today, on a dreary autumn day in New England, thinking that more than ever I want to make my mark for the Kingdom of God. If it takes another decade of huge and significant changes, I'll embrace them knowing it moves me closer to the place God wants me to be, and to the person God wants me to be.

Here's to 30! None of this perpetually 29 stuff for me. This last decade has taught me much of who I am, now it's time for who I am to, by God's grace, make the difference I was called to make.

Immersion - The Story of God

2005-09-19T09:50:00.000-05:00

Welcome Back...

I've been in a bit of a blogging funk the past couple of weeks. Not sure why, just the way it goes from time to time I suppose.

There are going to be four posts today of some short pieces I wrote for an event we held at our church this past Sunday Evening. We're calling it Immersion - a chance for us to be immersed into the story of God at work in us and the world. There's an introductory movement and then three that follow. I hope you enjoy them.

Movement One:

Day before days to be numbered
Night before daynight was sundered
See without sight,
Spark before light
Look with the eyes of your soul.

What you see is not all there is. What you cannot see is more real, more solid than the ground on which you sit tonight. This story begins in a time when day and night meant nothing; and in a place where light and darkness walked together. It commences cloaked in invisibility.

Can you see what you don’t see? When you see the stars, can you see through their light so distant to a moment so distant when nothing exploded with light and heat and something was born?

Sound before music is rendered
Wind before whispers remembered
Echoes resounding
Universe bounding
Rings with the sound of his voice.

The wind whispers with the sound of a voice whose source is the music of the universe. You’ve heard it. You hear it echoing in your ears when you let the silence linger. You hear it in your own voice when it shakes with the smallness of life.

Can you hear what your ears don’t capture? When the ocean’s tide pounds the shore, can you hear in its roar the distant sound of a moment so distant when the first notes of the first symphony first sounded into the air and the universe began to resonate in the key of God?

Love at the center of being
Mystery is in you revealing
Beating of heart
Speaking in part
Of love you wish you had known.

Your heart beats with the cadence of an unearthly poetry. Your feet keep time with the rhythm of an unseen drum. You are not alone. You’ve never been alone. There is a love that has pursued you all the days of your life, and though you have run, and though you have attempted to hide, you cannot escape. You don’t want to escape. You want to be found.

Can you feel what your heart has longed for with its every beat since the day you were born? When you listen to a poet’s verse can you feel in your heart the distant rhythm of a distant moment when a perfect heart beat with a perfect love for a person who had not yet been born?

The story begins there, in those distant places, but it has flowed through millennia and centuries to this moment. Though your journey has wound through many twists and turns, it has brought you here tonight, to be immersed into the story of God at work in you, and in this world, even though you may never have recognized it.

Immersion - Hatred to Love

2005-09-19T09:46:00.000-05:00

Hatred is such an ugly word. Perhaps it is most hideous when we see it in ourselves. Hitler, Stalin, the White Hoods of a KKK rally – these all jar us as disembodied and distant images of hatred. We recoil at their mention, not wanting to be bothered with the thoughts and feelings they arouse. But when the hatred is closer to home it’s harder to ignore and suppress.

“You don’t hate, though.” At least that’s what we tell ourselves. But maybe we’re wrong. Maybe we hate what we don’t understand. Maybe we hate what makes us uncomfortable. Maybe we hate the one who is unlike us simply because we can. Maybe we hate ourselves, because we’ve never been able to be comfortable in our own skin. Or maybe, when it comes right down to it, we hate the idea of God.

God is easy to hate as long as we consider him to be the grumpy old man sitting in his big La-Z-boy recliner in some remote corner of the universe who is too old and crotchety to get up and do anything about all the bad stuff that’s happening in this world. God is easy to hate when we can’t seem to figure out why he made us the way that he did. God is easy to hate when we envision him as the Cosmic Hater.

But when the rhythm of his love some day overwhelms you, and captures your imagination, it becomes more difficult to hate – not just him, but others, and even yourself. When God the Cosmic Lover steps in our direction to embrace us, it’s possible that our defenses will relax and our hatred will melt away.

Do you remember when you first knew love? Do you remember the way that life was in that moment? Calling to you from across the distances of time and space is a God who has pursued you from before the moment of your birth. His love is seeking you, seeking to show you what love is, and how hatred has deformed and broken you.

You were followed here tonight. You’ll be followed when you go home. But it’s not because someone is hating you and hunting you. It’s because someone is looking to love you. Turn around, go ahead – you’ll see.

Immersion - Despair to Hope

2005-09-19T09:45:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the music changes on us. Catching us by surprise the song takes us in a direction we never expected to be going. Once borne along by a beautiful melody the chords darken, the notes mellow and the lyrics cast shadows where once they had lit the path.

The music changes and we try to stop listening. We know it’s taking us nowhere, leading to a dead end, but we can’t seem to stop ourselves. We wake up worried, live frazzled, and sleep fitfully because we can’t get the song out of our head. Its sounds swell in our ears and threaten to wipe out the idea that there ever was hope, or a future.

Call it what you want – call it life, call it reality, call it the human experience. But whatever you call it, remember that the music can always change again. Don’t forget that as quickly and subtly as the shadows came, the light can come again. Don’t lose the sound of the music of hope that still resonates in your soul when you hear it.

There is a song that you were born to sing. There is a melody that you can live to carry, and it’s a tune of hope, and promise, and possibility. The notes that sound at the center of the universe resound with the echoes of a beautiful day. They are strong, they are bright, and they are here to carry you along like the songs of your youth carry you away to another time and another place.

When you sing the song you were created to sing, you will find your voice. It is sweet, rich and lovely. There is nothing monotonous about it. It is not uniform or an endless repetition of sameness. Oh, what’s that? You haven’t found it yet? Wait. It’s looking for you now.

Immersion - Fear to Faith

2005-09-19T09:44:00.000-05:00

What are we afraid of, really? When you were a kid maybe you were afraid of the dark and your parents had to buy you a night light to get you to sleep at night. Maybe you were scared silly by your crazy old neighbor who used to yell unintelligible phrases out here window as you and your friends ran through her backyard.

But one fine day our fears went and grew up, sprouted legs and started walking around the living room like they owned the place. They followed us out the door on our way to work and crept under the covers when we came home to sleep. They haunted our dreams and blurred our vision, and the whole time we kept waiting for them to disappear like they used to when Mom and Dad cradled our heads in their arms and whispered words of comfort. But the comfort didn’t come, and we woke up in a cold sweat one morning knowing without a doubt that the world was falling apart and we were going to get crushed in the fallout.

Sometimes for all the blank canvas in front of us, with all of its white and wide open spaces, we still can’t see. We see the stars, see the sun and the moon, the trees and the fields, and there is this nagging suspicion that we’re lost in the middle of it all. We want to paint, to allow our hands to float free over the canvas and create something beautiful but those fears seem to creep up on us like the monster under our bed, and chain our hands to our sides.

Sure, the fears are more sophisticated now. We’re not afraid of the dark outside our window at night, but the black emptiness that sometimes stares back at us from the eyes in the mirror – eyes that are the windows to our soul. You might think this sounds overly dramatic. But ask yourself if you’ve never felt pursued by a nameless and faceless fear that threatens to extinguish the last spark of belief that there is something more to what we see.

Ask yourself if you’ve ever been afraid of nothing. Tell yourself that you’ve never feared that the story of your life would amount, in the end, to exactly nothing. Tell yourself that you’ve never been afraid that God, if you could even call him that, thinks nothing more of you than an elephant considers a gnat on his backside.

And while you’re telling yourself all that, remind yourself that your fears, no matter how haunting; and your doubts, no matter how daunting, are whispering to you that you could be something great. They’re telling you that what you really fear is what might happen if you don’t believe. They’re actually inviting you to open up to a God who, get this, believes in you. He believes there is enough possibility inside of you that he wants to shape you into his own image. He sees past the blank canvas and past the dirty dredges of clay to the finished product – and what he sees is beautiful!

Jacob Goes to School...

2005-09-13T18:35:00.000-05:00

Today, my little boy went off to school - preschool that is. He's 3 1/2 (as he'd tell you very quickly) and he's extremely excited about his first preschool experience. He is attending Sandcastles Montessori Preschool, which is renting space from the church that I happen to pastor.

It's pretty hard for me to believe that Jacob is growing up so quickly. I can still remember the day he arrived in this big, wide world. I can still hear those first newborn cries, smell the sweet smell of his baby skin, and feel the softness of his infant skin on my cheeks.

Lately I've been trying to teach Jacob three little lessons that I think will serve him well no matter what adventure comes. Although he'll recite them a little grudgingly at this point (I believe the exact phrase is, "Daddy, do we have to say this every day?") he would be able to tell you what they are:

You are extraordinary, because God made you that way.
I love you. No matter what, no questions asked, I love you.
I believe in you. I believe that whatever God sets in your heart to do, He will give you the ability to accomplish.

And thinking about it today, I thought about how quickly we forget those simple lessons. Or about the possibility that maybe no one ever took the time to tell you those things. Jacob went to school today, but in his going, I think I may be the one learning the biggest lessons...

New England Leadership Roundtable

2005-09-01T21:55:00.000-05:00

I'm taking a brief break from the synergy discussion (great thoughts going all around, I'm hoping to post tomorrow) to inject a plug for an event I'll be helping to host in October.

October 3rd Alex McManus will be here in Providence for an event called a Leadership Roundtable. This is designed to be an experience of interactive coaching and conversation with Alex, who is a genuine innovator and man possessed with the vision to advance the Kingdom of God to the ends of the earth.

This event is, for me, an extension of an experience I began earlier this year. I participated in the inaugural cohort for the International Mentoring Network which culminated in an amazing week spent in Los Angeles with several other men in whose company I am (in all sincerity) humbled to be found. I came back from that experience with a passion to share what I'd seen and heard there with people here - this is one way I'm trying to do just that.

I know this blog is being read by all kinds of people in all kinds of locations, but if you're going to be in the Providence area in October, see if you can make it to this event. There's a cost associated with it($99), and I'm not shy to say that you'll get your money's worth for the experience. The event will be hosted by Renaissance Church and my good friend, Scott Axtmann.

If you're interested, you can register here.

There's even a rumor that THE Octavio will be present...and a confirmed response from the illustrious Dale Swinburne.

Synergy - Can it work?

2005-08-29T19:30:00.000-05:00

Welcome back. Thanks for taking a few moments to stop by. Sorry that last week got a little away from me and precluded my posting schedule (plus I'm still somewhat struggling with the coming-back-from-vacation blues...)

The last post on synergy got some good comments in the comment section. I think what happened as I read them was a realization for me that this whole idea of synergy is really critical to the life of the church and probably deserves a few more thoughtful responses and posts.

Since I'm no expert in the field, I'm going to try to address some of the thoughts raised in those comments as best as I can. Remember that I'm writing from the perspective of an inexperienced practitioner - one who hasn't figured all this stuff out, and who's simply trying to work through these things in the context of a local church that I sincerely want to be involved in the mission of Christ in the world.

Kate and Dennae both raised similar concerns.

Here's Kate's comment:

One assumption that I see from your point of view is that the lack of motivation/movement is on the part of the church-goer, versus the church leadership or community leadership. It has been my recent experience that community members aren't necessarily given the freedom to move or synergize within the context of the church family.

I have definite opinions regarding leadership--a model of tight control from the top, which limits the productivity of the masses, in comparison to a model where the leadership is more of a support system rather than a dictating system.

And Dennae's:

I think synergy can only happen in community. My frustration with traditional church leadership (speaking from my experience only) is the lack of community. Instead of the community grabing hold of God's vision for this world...one person receives one vision from God and spends his time trying to pass on that vision to the body.

Both of these comments touch on the idea of leadership, and specifically pose some questions about top-down, singular leadership and whether that can work in a synergistic environment.

Most churches function in an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship between pastors and people. You have a group of people who know in their hearts that ministry is important and that the mission of Christ is important in the grand scheme of things in the world. And so these people who have that understanding and a sincere conviction that it should be done well, find another person (or a few persons) and then decide to hire that person as their "minister". The "minister", who has training and education and (sometimes, though not really in my case) experience is the one who is expected to minister. He or she provides the "services" of the church and makes sure things keep running smoothly. In the meanwhile, he receives praise and accolades from some people who really enjoy his preaching or his visitation or his ___________ and he enjoys the attention.

Because he enjoys the attention (and maybe the paycheck), he keeps doing the ministry. He keeps providing the services that he is convinced he should provide, and in so doing he maintains control of the vision, the direction and the resources of the group.

And this goes on until something breaks in the works. Sometimes it breaks on the pastor's end when he stops feeling like he gets paid well enough for the amount of work he does. And sometimes it breaks on the people's end when he stops working as much as he should (what do those pastors do all day, anyway?) But somewhere along the line frustration sets in because expectations are no longer being met the way they once were.

I'm convinced that this co-dependency wars against the nature of synergy because it keeps people from sharing the vision and from sharing the mission together. Reality check? I'm not sure how to break the cycle.

What minister in his right mind is going to want vision coming from people who don't want to do much more than consume a product?
What congregation in their right mind is going to want to give their lives passionately for a vision that isn't theirs?

What does the way forward look like? Well, maybe that's for us to talk about here...

Spiritual Synergy

2005-08-23T06:42:00.000-05:00

Good Morning! I'm back on the blogging bandwagon after a couple of weeks off. I spent a great week in Seattle with my family, visiting my brother and sister-in-law, and have spent the last week or so trying to readjust to east coast time, and trying to re-enter the real world. So, thanks for stopping by (thanks also to all those who kept stopping by even when I wasn't posting...) and I hope you enjoy the conversation.

Synergy: the interaction of two or more agents or forces so that their combined effect is greater than the sum of their individual efforts.

I'm not sure why, but I'm in love with this term right now. Maybe it's like that old Seinfeld episode where George and Jerry discuss the cultural obsession with saying "salsa", but I'm borderline obsessed with the word synergy right now.

It captures for me the essence of what I believe the church could and should be, the heartbeat of God for people who claim to be his followers. We've often thought of church in terms of membership, a term that has, by and large, lost its meaning. Membership conjures up images of benefits and perks, voting and committees, and of course membership dues. And while membership gives the impression of belonging to the larger organization, it rarely seems to add up to collaboration with the fellow members.

At the center of synergy is the essence of movement - two or more forces are acting together in collaboration, and as their efforts drive together, they create action, motion, or some other defined effect. It is this essence of movement that often is lacking in the church organization. It's not because we don't have the individual pieces necessary to move, but more often because the individual pieces can't (or won't) find ways of creating synergy with each other.

Whether in the local expression of the church, or in its global sense, members of the church are part of a synergistic organism. We can never accomplish individually and separately the greatest good. We will continue to fall short of Jesus' mission of calling out a community of faith, hope and love as long as we look at ourselves through purely individualized lenses.

Ok, it's your turn now. Since the point of this blog is interaction with each other, here's your chance to interact...

What would happen if you looked at yourself not as an individual church member, but part of a synergized team of people following Jesus and his mission to change the world? How would that change what you are and what you do when we come together? How would that change your view of what the church is?

A Postmodern Athens

2005-08-06T07:02:00.000-05:00

Good morning! Welcome back. For those of you who might have been looking for a midweek post - my apologies.

Since I announced in December of last year that we would be journeying through the book of Acts together on Sundays, I have been looking forward to this Sunday's particular passage - Acts 17:16-34. It's the story of Paul in the city of Athens, surrounded by the icons and idols of the Greek culture of the day. In it I see so many parallels to our 21st century American culture, that I think seeing Paul's approach in this city will give us some insight into how God would have us engage our own culture with the message of the Gospel.

Tomorrow, if you happen to be physically present with us at our church building, you'll be in for a bit of a surprise. It will not look like you think it should. It will not sound like you think it should. It may not even feel the way you think it ought. I hope that it will be a glimpse into the postmodern version of Athens, and that it will inspire our thoughts about how to live on mission with God in the midst of this culture.

Be brave, it's going to be a fun ride!

PS - I'll be heading out on vacation next week, so that will probably mean no posts (unless something really, really strikes me...) until I get back and get settled in. Rita, Jacob, Aislinn and I are traveling to visit my brother and his wife in Seattle. We'll be traveling with my parents and my sister as well, so we are all looking forward to a great vacation in the beautiful Northwest. I'll look forward to advancing the conversation when I return.

Upside Down

2005-08-01T19:44:00.000-05:00

Welcome back. I'm glad you're here. Please, make yourself at home...

When I was a kid, I used to do lay on my parents’ couch, put my head on the floor and my feet in the air, and look at the rest of the house and my family upside down. I’m not really sure why I did it; the only thing I can guess is that I felt like I needed a fresh perspective on the world.

It was always a strange feeling to look at things upside down. The ceiling was your floor, the chairs in the kitchen looked like they were suspended from the ceiling, and my siblings walked with their feet above their heads. Fortunately it was never a permanent phenomenon, and after the blood started running to my head for a little while, I would be forced to right myself and look at the world with my feet on the ground.

Maybe you shared this childhood experiment with me, and maybe you still do it now when no one is looking. It was all harmless enough then. But imagine with me if I began to spend greater and greater amounts of time with my head on the floor and my feet in the air. Imagine the trouble I could have caused if I had gone around trying to convince my brothers and sister to do the same.

Imagine the confused looks I would have encountered from my teachers if, in the middle of Algebra class I had decided to put my head on the floor and feet in the air. Or later in life, imagine if I had attempted to assume the same position at work. What would you think if you came to visit me in my office and found me with my head under my desk and my feet sticking up in the air?

And think of the problems that would be caused if I suddenly decided that, since I liked looking at the world so much from this position, I should attempt to get other people to begin looking at the world from this point of view. Imagine if I somehow convinced a few of my friends that we should do everything upside down, can you see the havoc that might ensue whenever we went out in public? Can you see the scene as we sat down at our favorite restaurant and assumed our upside down position to order dinner from the waiter?

I suppose it’s a little comical to think of life in those terms, isn’t it? And yet, in some sense, it’s exactly what we choose to do when we choose to follow the way of Jesus in the world.

In what ways do you think you see the world "upside down"?
Where are you being challenged to live "upside down" right now?

Redeemed Community

2005-07-28T20:52:00.000-05:00

Welcome back! Thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy your visit. Now Brewing: Starbucks Gazebo Blend (not as good as last week's Ethiopia Sidamo, but enjoyable nonetheless...)

I keep thinking about this idea of the church as the family of God; turning it over in my mind and trying to see what we can learn from families and the way they function together.

It seems to me that we are each given these families that do the hard work of raising us, shaping our lives, showing us love and acceptance, teaching us values, skills, and just generally providing us a place to grow up. Some of us have had horrific experiences in families, and some have had the privilege of growing up in the kinds of families that provided a healthy perspective on life for us.

But no matter what your family experience has been, I find God inviting us to join his family, and in so doing to find the love, grace and acceptance that can be perfectly enjoyed in the place where he is the head of the household. In other words, the church should be the most heavenly expression of family that we find here on earth.

Unfortunately, many of us have scars from church families just like many have scars from their earthly families. I'm not here to serve as an apologist for the disease that has sometimes been perpetrated in the name of church families. What I do know is that the church was meant to provided the environment for healing and growth that so many desperately need. We ultimately long for the kind of community and place of belonging that could be (and I might say should be) provided by the people who have become followers of Jesus.

Could you imagine a family where the brother put his interests to the side in favor of serving his sister? Could you imagine a family where humility replaced arrogance, and where mercy was valued more than the assertion of rights? See, I think that's the kind of family God envisions. It's the kind of thing that the church seems to fall short of often enough. But it's also the hope that it could happen that keeps me investing so much of myself in this beautifully imperfect family.

It's because I've seen flashes of its brilliance that I keep pouring myself out. It's because I've seen times when the church as the family of God functioned exactly as it should - and when it does it is priceless. I've been on the receiving end of a lot of mercy, grace, love and acceptance. And the way I see it, there are a whole lot of people in my community and world who are in need of that kind of experience. The more the church, as the family of God, moves towards offering that kind of invitation, the more credibility we have with those who are looking for a reason to believe.

I'd love to hear your experiences (good and bad) with the family of God. I want us to learn from each other, to hear the voices of other family members who will help us better represent the character of our father in the community both local and global. So, if you've got something to share, this would be the time and place to do it. Go ahead, let it out...

On Milestones and Moments

2005-07-26T15:00:00.000-05:00

Today I reached a milestone of sorts. We tend to mark the importance of certain occasions based on years given to a certain task. Five, ten, twenty-five, fifty - these are important years to commemorate. But what of the importance of seventeen, or thirty-three, or even eight?

Eight years ago today, at about 1:00 in the afternoon, I walked out of the back room of a very hot, very stuffy church in Grafton, West Virginia to meet my bride-to-be. I watched her walk the aisle of that country church, and my heart swelled with the feelings of love, joy and pride that I thought I knew so much of on that day.

Come to find out, I knew very little of those things that day as I know them now. I now know that love is more beautiful and more painful than I ever imagined. I see now that joy is at once more profound and more lasting than I had ever dreamed. And I've learned that the pride that comes from being associated with a beautiful and radiant woman deepens as you go.

We were kids then. We were in love, we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, but we really had no idea what that meant. We said "for better or worse", but in my heart I knew that it would only be better. We said "for richer or poorer", but I was convinced that richer days were just ahead.

But we've learned what love is. We've discovered that joy comes in the most surprising moments, and in the quietest and simplest ways. We've discovered the contentment of companionship that gives us each peace in the midst of sometimes trying circumstances.

Eight years ago I stepped out of that room and watched Rita walk down that aisle to me - I haven't regretted it a day since.

Rita, I love you. Thanks for showing me love, sharing my joy, and being the pride of my life.

Family Foibles

2005-07-25T19:17:00.000-05:00

I was very privileged to grow up in my family. I have two great parents, three siblings I love very much, as well as cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents who are all very dear to me. Of course, like any family, we have our quirks, oddities, and things that I have (at various times and on various occasions) found to be a bit annoying.

For instance: growing up I bore a rather uncanny resemblance to Little Ralphie of A Christmas Story. I spent years as a kid being called "Little Ralphie", and being admonished with calls of "You'll shoot 'yer eye out, kid!" And then there was the unfortunate Cheesecake Incident, in which I happened to drop a freshly made cheesecake on the floor of my aunt Susan's garage as I was bringing it in for my aunt Barbara's birthday party. I was continually asked not to carry important items at family functions for years!

Of course it was all in good fun, and there was never any doubt in my mind that my family, strange as they were, really did love me. I learned what it was like to find acceptance and genuine love in my family first, and it's helped me in life to (hopefully) offer that to others.

So when I thought about the church as the family of God, I couldn't get that image out of my mind - the quirky, sometimes odd, but loving family with which I grew up (that and that corny old song some of you will know, "I'm so glad I'm a part of the family of God...").

The arrival of the gospel at the door to the heart of a person might be like the invitation to become part of the family. It might swing wide arms of acceptance and love that people have never otherwise known in an embrace of unconditionally offered grace.

At one point in his journey on earth Jesus was speaking to a crowd of people, and some of them began to inform him that his mother and brothers were outside. Jesus' response was that anyone who was obedient to his heavenly father was in fact his brother, sister, even mother - in short, his family. With all of its quirks and foibles, there's no family of which I'd rather be a part. Sure we've gotten it wrong loads of times, and we continue to do so probably on a daily basis. But I love my family. I love them enough to point out things I see that are wrong. I love them enough to encourage them when I see what is right. I love this family of God because I've found that, when it functions as it should, the grace and mercy of God flows freely through us.

So, do you have any family reminiscences to share (of the earthly family or spiritual family variety?) Maybe we can help remind each other of the beauty and diversity that lies within this God-family...

Family

2005-07-23T20:10:00.000-05:00

Just in case anyone's here looking for a preview of tomorrow's message, here it is in brief:

We're going to be in Acts 16, verse 11-40. It's the story of Paul, Silas, Luke and Timothy as they follow Paul's vision about a Macedonian man to the city of Philippi. It features the conversion of Lydia (a powerful woman), an unnamed slave-girl who is demon-possessed, and the Jailer responsible for keeping Paul and Silas imprisoned following an ugly incident that resulted in a beating and incarceration.

Most famous for the jailhouse scene of Paul and Silas sweetly singing hymns (most likely not any that are found in our hymnbooks contrary to the opinions of some...), I'll be taking a bit of a different tack. We're going to look at the way that Luke describes the conversion of the families of both Lydia and the Philippian Jailer. Inspired (I hope) by some thoughts about my own family, we'll explore the idea of the church as the family of God, and the implications that has for our understanding of the gospel and its message, and the way we apply it to ourselves personally and corporately. We'll also be sharing the communion meal as a way of visually reminding ourselves of our connection to each other as the redeemed community of God in the world.

Those of you who are part of our community at New Life, I'll see you tomorrow. Those who aren't, well, I guess all I can say is I wish I could sit with you and share the communion meal in person, and be reminded of our connection. But since God is not limited by the constraints of distance or time, I'll pray in Paul's words, "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all."

Change: Addicted or Avoided?

2005-07-21T19:07:00.000-05:00

Good Evening...

I've been spending a lot of mental energy lately thinking about change. Change personally, in my family, even in my church. I've been thinking about what causes a person to branch out in a new direction, to follow a different path, and to advance the kingdom of God as we do.

In some ways I'm a change addict. There are certain things that I do to keep some variety in my daily routine. Right now I'm looking to change the appearance of this blog, inspired by my friend Dale's shift to a WordPress template. I scrolled through probably a hundred templates offered by WordPress, and saw a few that I liked. Then I realized that I'd select one that I liked, and would probably want to change it in about six months.

But in other ways I'm in change avoidance mode. I've eaten a turkey and cheese sandwich for lunch probably 5 days out of 7 each week for most of the past 4 years. We have several coffee mugs in our cupboard, but if they're all washed, I'll reach for the same mug each and every time.

What I do realize is that I don't want change just for the sake of change. Otherwise I'll end up exchanging one set of problematic circumstances for another set that's equally as troublesome. But I do want change of the kind that will make me a more effective carrier of Jesus' message of the graceful redemption of human beings.

I wonder what you think are the things that move us towards change. How do we change? Why do we change? And what kinds of things is God placing his finger on in your life that are in need of change?

Everything Changes

2005-07-18T16:46:00.000-05:00

Welcome back.

I'm glad you've chosen to take a few moments out of your day to stop by. We're still brewing the Starbucks Ethiopia Sidamo (though if you'd prefer I would gladly make you a nice latte or cappuccino, depending on your preference). So make yourself at home, and I hope you enjoy the interaction.

Sometimes I think I have God and life figured out. There are those (brief) moments when everything seems to be working just right. There are no car repairs to be paid for, no arguments with my wife, and my two kids are behaving like little angels. But there are those other moments (eternal as they seem) when disappointments creep in, failure seems to be a daily occurrence and nothing seems to go just as planned.

It is on those days, those plain awful, nothing-going-right, days; that I need to be reminded that God can take anything he wants, and create out of it something to advance his kingdom. This past Sunday I talked about Paul and Barnabas and their good friendship that fell apart over, what in hindsight was probably a ridiculous and petty dispute. It would have been hard to see the potential for something better than what those two had already accomplished - these two had planted dozens of churches in their travels. And yet in their separation, with all of the pain that must have meant to them, God actually begins to move his mission forward into new places, breaking new ground.

God is not taken by surprise with your disappointments, nor with your frustrations and failures. In fact, they may present the most fertile ground for the growth of a new thing or a new direction for your life. It is possible that those disappointments are God's way of getting you to move on, to push out further into his mission of grace in this world.

So, if you're up to it, tell me: what's changing in your life? God is unchanging in his character, but everything he touches changes. As he's putting even his finger on your life, it's changing, and growing into a fuller expression of his mission, and I would love to hear how that's happening.

Grace, Faith and Spirit

2005-07-13T07:46:00.000-05:00

Welcome back! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable. As I've learned to say from reading Alex McManus' blog, "You belong here." Your comments are invited, appreciated, and really needed to make this place better.

On Monday I posted on the topic of cultural christianity and missional Christianity. If you didn't read it, take a minute to do that, as I think it will give you some framework for today's post.

I've been doing a great deal of thinking about the differences between cultural christianity and missional Christianity. The key differences I see are in these three big words that come up in Acts 15 as the early church faces one of its most important decisions - are men and women who are not Jewish by birth going to be required to conform to the cultural norms of Judaism, or not? When Peter gets up to speak to the assembly of the elders and apostles, he argues pretty forcefully that the mission of Christ makes no distinctions about things like that.

He says that the gentiles (non-jewish people) had the same experience as those apostles and elders did. They had experienced the remarkable, amazing, life-changing grace of the living God extended towards them. They had, in childlike faith, trusted in the truth of the person of Jesus, God's son sent to the world for its salvation. And they had received, in some mystical but powerful way, the presence of the Holy Spirit as their companion, and guide into all truth.

I believe we need to see Christianity as a mission moving within the culture of this world to bring about its redemption and salvation. And if that means things get a little messy, and hard to define, I'm ok with that. I trust in the power of the grace of God, received by faith, and the leadership of the Holy Spirit in someone's life to effectively move them towards God's destiny for them.

So here are my questions for you today:

What does the grace of God look like in your life? How can you extend that same kind of grace to others in your life?
What does it mean for you to have faith like a child? How do you think you could honor childlike faith in others, even when you feel like their faith is not as "mature" as yours?
Where do you see the Holy Spirit active in your life? Why do you think it's so difficult for us to allow the Holy Spirit to change people in his time, rather than ours?

Ok, feel free to answer all of those, a couple of them, or none at all. Thanks again for visiting, and for your interaction here.

Cultural Christianity

2005-07-11T09:01:00.000-05:00

Good Morning!

Thanks for stopping by. If we were at my home, I'd make you a nice cup of coffee (currently Brewing Starbucks Ethiopian Sidamo blend) and we would sit on our couches and talk like friends. Since we don't have that privilege, perhaps you can take the time to brew the beverage of your choice, and find a comfortable place to sit. Feel free to comment if the mood strikes you.

Yesterday at the outset of my talk I referenced a GQ article from 2002. Take a few minutes to follow the link and read the article (it's the third post from the top).

Finished?

The early, apostolic church came down on the side of missional Christianity over its cultural form. If we are going to follow that same apostolic spirit and way (the way of Jesus) we're going to have to recognize the difference between the two. So let's think together about what we could do to change our view of Christianity from a culture with a set of external obligations to a mission moving within the culture to bring grace, faith, and the power of the Holy Spirit into contact with the culture.

It was this article, in combination with some reflection on Acts 15 that makes me pose this question for discussion:

How much of what we do as a church and what we expect people to become as Christians has to do with our traditions, and how much of it has to do with a deepening experience of the grace of God, through faith in Christ, and an increased awareness of the indwelling and leading of the Holy Spirit in our lives?

What do you say? Where do you find yourself (and maybe the church) just going through the motions that make us look Christian? And where do you see the possibilities for growing in grace, faith, and the leading of the Holy Spirit?

Courage

2005-07-05T07:28:00.000-05:00

Courage: the state or quality of mind that enables one to face danger, fear, or vicissitudes with self-possession, confidence and resolution; bravery

I don't think of myself as a very courageous person. I'm not the first one to face danger or fear, and when I do, I seem to do so with something less than self-possession and confidence. More than once I've been reminded on a playground that I am, by all rights, a "fraidy-cat". I tend to play it safe, take few risks, and attempt to manage the risks I do take as carefully as possible.

But I'm learning, contrary to what much of my Christian experience has taught me, that in order to follow the mission of Jesus in this world, courage is a required asset. And in relationship to that, I'm discovering in very real ways, how important other people are to stirring up that courage within me. I suppose what I mean to say is that courage can be a shared asset, and must not be exclusively yours or mine.

I draw courage from the stories of men and women who are engaged in the same mission, who share the same heartbeat for seeing the world changed one life at a time. I take courage when I hear from someone who is facing desperate odds with the kind of courage that you only seem to find in storybooks and fairy tales. The biblical admonitions to encouraging each other are rooted in this awareness of ourselves in relationship to others. We are to take courage and strength from the stories of those who have forcefully advanced the Kingdom of God in ages past, while we shoulder the burden with our contemporaries and, by sharing the load, strengthen our souls in the face of grave danger.

What stares you in the eyes today and blows the chill winds of fear across the heated coals of your passion to follow Jesus? Do you need courage? Perhaps we can provide that for each other here. If there's something you'd like to share, please do, we can post our own comments, thoughts, and even prayers to help you draw strength from our stories.

In Common

2005-06-30T19:19:00.000-05:00

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!

2005-06-27T21:14:00.000-05:00

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

2005-06-22T20:25:00.000-05:00

“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

2005-06-21T11:00:00.000-05:00

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

2005-06-20T07:10:00.000-05:00

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

2005-06-15T20:30:00.000-05:00

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

2005-06-13T10:52:00.000-05:00

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!

2005-06-12T08:18:00.000-05:00

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..."

2005-06-10T14:24:00.000-05:00

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

2005-06-06T19:12:00.000-05:00

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?

2005-06-01T10:28:00.000-05:00

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?

Cluster

2005-05-26T17:26:00.000-05:00

Cluster: A group of the same or similar elements gathered or occurring closely together; a bunch

I think that, in general, we underestimate the power of the church in the culture and world. I know why we do it. Or at least I think I do. We do it because years of anemic christianity have conditioned us to believe that the gospel doesn't work, that christianity is toothless, and that Jesus is boring to people.

Cloister: A place, especially a monastery or convent, devoted to religious seclusion

Perhaps part of the problem lies with the fact that we've substituted cloisters for clusters. We have created places of religious seclusion hidden behind walls of language, ideology, politics and various other exclusionary bricks that keep outsiders as, well, outsiders.

But if the church is a cluster of viral agents, all infected with the contagion of a life-altering message of faith, hope and love, then imagine the power of such a cluster. If a cluster like that were to be dropped into the middle of a city, community, neighborhood, can you envision the potential for the fabric of that place to change? I can.

The power of the church lies in our message first, but secondarily it lies in our ability to cluster ourselves in places for maximum impact. When Jesus sent out his disciples he seems to have done so two by two. The missional journeys of the early church almost all seem to take place in the context of a group of at least two. Paul and Barnabas. Paul and Silas. Peter and John. Little clusters of infected and infectious men rocketed towards the hearts of communities and cities and began spreading the virus.

I am passionate about the church because the church is the vehicle by which God is seeking to advance his Kingdom. And wherever the church refuses to yield to institutional and hierarchical control, I believe it will thrive. So my hope and prayer is that here would be one of those places. My prayer is that I would be so infectious, so contagious with this message that my cluster would become infected.

I'm crazy enough to believe that we can change the world. I'm crazy enough to believe that we can't be ignored when we speak what's on the heart of God. I'm crazy enough to believe that I will accept persecution, hatred, anger and mockery before I'll accept being overlooked. To quote a line from that video I linked to earlier:

You can quote them, disagree with them,
glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing you can't do is ignore them.

Because they change things.
They push the human race forward.

God, even if it's only a footnote in your great story, I want to make my mark. May I this day push the human race forward with all the energy of your Spirit that's at work in me.

Check this out...

2005-05-26T10:26:00.000-05:00

I found a link on another blog I frequent (Alex McManus) to this great video (a Macintosh commercial) that I thought was especially powerful and poignant.

Think Different

For any of you looking forward to a post yesterday on the church as a cluster of viral agents, sorry I didn't get that up. I should be able to do that later today.

Your Relationship Network

2005-05-24T20:16:00.000-05:00

To take off from yesterday's post, I've been thinking often about our relationship networks. It seems to me that the gospel spreads best along our network of relationships - that it thrives not in settings of institutional control, but in a web of interconnected relationships.

Here's the way I was thinking about it. We've all been infected with a virus on our computers. It's one of the most frustrating experiences in the world as we work to try to rid our machine of that crazy, infectious little bugger. The ironic thing is that often the virus came to us from someone who's in our relationship network - we're on their email list, or we visited a site they recommended, whatever it might be.

The other experience we've also had is that of installing a legitimate program on our computer. At some point we come to this screen that gives us a choice - "I agree" or "I decline". It's called the End User License Agreement. It tells us that we are the end of the line for that particular program. We have purchased it, and with it the privileges associated with the program, and we agree that the privileges of ownership will not be passed on to anyone else, even those in our network of relationships.

I am convinced that the gospel spreads more like a virus than a legitimate program. The life-altering way of following Jesus' footsteps is communicated best when it passes like a virus from user to user, infecting those in our path. And, like a virus, I suspect that one may become infected even without knowing that it's happening.

I believe that there are some people who can't wade through all of the verbiage of the End User License Agreement for the institutionalized version of Christianity. But if it is more viral than legitimate, then I think there is hope. There is hope for the virus to spread - and if you're here, then maybe you are a carrier. And if you are a carrier, then perhaps you can spread it along your network of relationships. The gospel was never meant to be legitimized...don't give in.

Tomorrow, the church as a cluster of viral agents...

Mirac[ordinary]ulous

2005-05-23T20:23:00.000-05:00

"They [Peter and the angel] passed the first and second guard posts and came to the iron gate to the street, and this opened to them all by itself. So they passed through and started walking down the street, and then the angel suddenly left him. Peter finally realized what had happened...After a little thought, he went to the house of Mary..."

When I read this part of the passage in Acts chapter 12, I immediately fell in love with it. While we glorify the miraculous signs and wonders that occurred as the followers of Jesus spread his message throughouth Jerusalem, Judea and the surrounding areas, I am often taken in by the seemingly insignificant details that make the story so human and therefore so compelling.

Peter is miraculously delivered from prison on the verge of his execution, and the angel walks with him one street past the prison gate and then leaves him to fend for himself. Peter, realizing that this is no dream or vision, is faced with the very real choice of where to go next.

I wonder to whose house I would go first? If I needed to spread news as quickly as possible to as many people as possible, who would be my first contact? It's really a question of my network of relationships, and this passage was a reminder to me that the good news about Jesus spreads best along the lines of our relational networks.

This blog allows me the freedom to communicate literally with people around the country, even the world. I have at the tips of my fingers the potential to network possibly hundreds, even thousands of people to each other and to a web of ideas. If you're reading this, even if we've never met, you are in a way part of my relational network. Hi. How are you?

To answer my previously posed question about where I would go first: I think I would come here. If I wanted friends to know that I had experienced some touch of the divine, and that I was again aware that God is moving on behalf of those who will move with him, then I might be likely to make an entry right here, just to let you know what God was up to.

I love the fact that the angel gave Peter his choice. And it reminds me that God gives us the choice to decide where we will go with what he is doing. So, what's God up to in your life? Are you seeing evidence that he is doing great things for those who will follow him? Where are you going with what he's doing? I'd love to hear about them - they are often more ordinary than you might expect.

I think tomorrow we'll tap a bit more into the idea of networks of relationships. I hope to see you then.

A Week in Review (Friday)

2005-05-21T09:00:00.000-05:00

Friday Morning: More StrengthsQuest with Chip Anderson

Chip did some more teaching on our strengths, and how to best use them. He also gave us a great, short tool to process learning. He had us quickly (in one minute) write down the answers to three questions regarding our first session:

What was the most important thing I learned?
What question still remains?
What do I need prayer for?

Nothing huge there, just a simple tool for reflection that I'll try to incorporate with me in the future.

Chip also talked about something he called "Aliveness", touching on the idea that many times in our lives we are not really living, we are either simply existing, or even living in a state where we are emotionally dead. He talked about the kinds of people who tend to drain life from us, and then the kinds of people who seem to be able to penetrate our defenses and touch us at the core of our being.

He called those last kinds of people, "big arrow" people - and the first ones I thought about in that regard were my children. I know that my wife is that for me as well, but my kids don't have any regard for the masks that I can wear at various times in my life - they see me as I truly am. When I look into their young faces, I can see something of myself in them; they touch me deeply. I think I came away from this time with a fresh appreciation for Rita, Jacob and Aislinn; and for the quality that they have added to my life. Those three are absolute gifts from the presence of my heavenly father, gifts that too often receive precious little recognition.

Friday Afternoon: The Character Matrix with Eric Bryant

If you have read the book Uprising, then you have seen the character matrix. It's essentially a tool that Mosaic uses for developing the character of those in ministry and leadership at their church. It basically outlines a path for developing ourselves as people of faith, hope and love in the form of three quests:

The Quest for Honor: Takes us from the raw state of pride to humility, then integrity and ultimately to courage.
The Quest for Nobility: Takes us from our penchant for greed to gratitude, wholeness and generosity.
The Quest for Enlightenment: Moves us from our foolishness through faithfulness, perseverance and finally to wisdom.

The quest for honor speaks about a change in our attitude, the quest for nobility tells the tale of our transformation in our perspective on how we see the world, and the quest for enlightenment involves a remaking of our habits.

Once again, I doubt if there's anything truly profound in all of this, but it was great to see and hear it as a tool for helping shape character. I wholeheartedly affirm the stand that Mosaic has taken - character is more important than talent. I also was struck by how often I find myself closer to the raw states, if you will. I can be extremely proud, foolish and greedy in so many ways. So this time was a powerful reminder that wherever I am in my leadership of the church, character counts most.

Friday Night: Brazilian Churrascaria

All of us, including Alex's wife Niza and son Lucas, visited a restaurant known as a churrascaria. Here we essentially stuffed our faces with large amounts of meat of all kinds; beef, chicken and pork. The food was unbelievable, and the company was fantastic. It was astounding to see the friendships that had developed so well in just a matter of a week. The first Sunday we all ate together in the process of getting to know each other. Five days later I felt so much a part of this group of friends. Each one of these guys was a unique gift from God to this group, and I hope that we'll continue the friendships that began over that week.

Rode to and from the churrascaria with The Octavio, Dale and Eric. The ride home was frightening simply because three of us were laughing so hard that I thought Octavio was going to lose control of the vehicle. I think at one point Dale was asking us to stop because he was physically in pain. I know this last comment has an audience of only two, but it still hurts me here, here, and here when I think about that ride home!

A Week in Review (Thursday)

2005-05-19T12:42:00.000-05:00

Thursday Morning and Afternoon: Origins

The morning session was with Alex McManus, who gave a rousing talk on the idea of relevance to culture. Here are some of the gleanings:

Responding to Jesus is like having a conversation with the future

Relevance to culture must begin from the starting point of relevance to Jesus, because if we are relevant to Jesus, then we are in fact relevant to the future, not just the present
We are creating the future that Jesus sees out of our conversations with him
You are talking to a man from the future in Jesus, and you are either crazy, or the world desperately needs to hear what you have to say (That, my friends, is an awesome and inspiring thought)
We must live out what we hear Jesus telling us that the world must be

How can we observe the shifts in culture and seek to meet them?

The world is plural - out of that situation, people will seek to take advantage of it for their own benefit even if it comes by the domination of others
The world is spiritual - and we are supposed to be interpreters of spiritual experiences
We need to tap into the mystical side of our experience with Christ - our understanding of God comes from our immersion into God - we are often taught to hide that mystical understanding behind church language and culture, but if we can strip our language and practice down to the essentials, we will go a long way toward meeting our culture in its needy place

I actually debated leaving after the first session in the morning to take off and have some time with my wife while we were out there, but we decided to stay - I am so glad we did. The highlight of the conference portion of my time away came in Erwin's morning session on the Barbarian Way. He took us through Acts 27 (story of Paul's shipwreck on the way to Rome) and he really, really drove it home for us. He talked about how the theme for Mosaic for the past year has been "Crash: Prepare for Impact". He shared some anecdotes along the way of how that theme has played out for their church recently - some very cool stuff. BTW, if you haven't either read The Barbarian Way, or heard Erwin's talk from a couple of years ago on this topic I would encourage you to find a way to do it, it's well worth it. So, here are my impressions of what was shared:

Get rid of whatever weighs you down and holds you back

When strong winds blow against you, you can't hold on to everything
You have to be willing to lose even the things that you think you need to survive
What must I get rid of in order to fully follow the mission of Jesus to the places he is taking me? (This one I'll be pondering and acting on for some time, I surmise...)

Focus on the primary objective

We will crash, but we will also live, Paul says - God is going to accomplish his desire no matter what it takes to do so - Paul knew he was going to make it to Rome, he knew it so deeply that he was almost unafraid of the storm
It's easy to lose our focus when the wind is blowing all around us and everything looks bleak

Bind yourself to the success of the whole

It's not about saving yourself as a leader, but about calling the community you serve to a higher standard and way of living and loving
We need to stop jumping into the life rafts we call churches

Serve as a catalyst for hope
Eliminate retreat as an option
Prepare for impact

As you can see, my notes once again tailed off as I was caught praying and dreaming about what would happen in me and for me as a result of my experience in this conference and mentoring process.

Thursday Night - Debrief (finally!)

Spent some time with both Erwin and Alex just walking through what we were taking away from this experience. It was a well-needed time of contemplation for me, and inspirational to think about where I might go with the things I was seeing and hearing. I came away with the burning desire to advance this revolution even at the cost of my life. I hope you can hear the passion in my words, because there is no doubt that this must happen in me and in the church I lead.

Awakening a Spiritual Revolution of faith, hope, and love!

A Week in Review (Wednesday)

2005-05-19T12:22:00.000-05:00

Wednesday Morning and Afternoon: Origins

We had two morning sessions with Alex and Erwin again, followed by afternoon breakout sessions. For the afternoon I was working with the other guys from the IMN to take guests through the soul environments we talked about yesterday.

Here are my thoughts from Alex's morning session (a great one IMO):

We should become a movement of people following the wind of God and his Spirit - proclaiming that the Kingdom of God has come near - he reminded that Jesus came to earth proclaiming the message of the kingdom of God's nearness
The call to follow Jesus is not the call to become Christians but to become fully human beings - Jesus is not the ultimate Christian, but the ultimate human being

I thought this was a profound statement and tied in with some of my thinking relative to our language of Christianity - does our way of living demand that people find new ways of expressing who we are, rather than just dismissing us as those "obnoxious christians"?
Jesus came and fully gave life and loved us to the extreme - he calls us to do the same - the mission is love enacted, our love for him and love for the world will not allow us to do nothing

If we as followers of Jesus do nothing for the mission these are the things that will likely happen:

The devaluing of human freedom - we will become people who will express gratitude simply to be tolerated, living in a society where power and fear rule the day
The debasing of human sexuality - in this he was not simply talking about homosexuality (in fact he didn't mention it) but talked about the dehumanizing effects of sexuality unrestrained
The debunking of human uniqueness - if the greatest threat to humanity is human evil, then the way to turn the tide is for fully alive humans to live and speak about the unique ability to, in cooperation with the Spirit of God, produce goodness in the world - I was reminded of the verse in Romans that we would not be overcome by evil, but rather overcome evil with good

I'm noticing a pattern here in my notes - I didn't take a lot of notes when Erwin was talking, so for the second session I actually have very little in the way of notes. It can be summed up in this statement: "What is important to God? What reflects the heart of God with clarity and authenticity?" I guess I probably spent much of his time reflecting on those words and their application to my life and church. I'll spend more time doing the same because I think it's a really important question.

Wednesday Evening: Mosaic Alliance Dinner/Dessert

This was a great experience as we had an awesome dinner served on the top floor of our hotel, overlooking (on three fronts) the city of Los Angeles. We met some new people and had some really great conversations.

The highlight for me was getting to meet the girlfriend of one of the members of our cohort. She came late to the dinner, but immediately my wife began including her in the conversation and the flow of the night. I was amazed once again at how great my wife is in those kinds of situations - it reminded me of her unique ability to relate to all kinds of people and include them in a group almost effortlessly. I think there was a bond forged there that will hopefully last much longer than just that night.

I left the conversation a little early, in fact. After four straight days of almost non-stop interaction with people, my introverted side was in serious need of recharging. In fact, I began to blog that night, but didn't get all the way through my post. I was reminded in very practical ways that while I enjoy the company of others, when I'm in situations where I'm constantly surrounded by people, I really do crave some time alone. My wife, on the other hand, was being energized by the interaction with others. It's so interesting to see how God has put us together, and uses us together despite our differences.

So, that was Wednesday, and I guess that brings us almost to the half way point. If you've stayed with me this far, thanks!

A Week in Review (Tuesday)

2005-05-18T15:19:00.000-05:00

Tuesday Morning and Afternoon - Soul Environments with Eric Bryant

Eric is part of the leadership team at Mosaic, and he walked us through the core values of Mosaic. These are detailed in the book An Unstoppable Force, and were highlighted throughout the Origins experience.

Wind: Mission is why the church exists

This is Mosaic's way of saying that the primary element of any church's life should be the mission of being and making disciples.
Every follower of Jesus is commissioned
The church of Jesus Christ is a movement

Water: Love is the context for all mission

This is their way of expressing the reality that by baptism we are all immersed into the one body of Christ, by His Spirit, moving together for the good of the world
Every follower of Jesus Christ is part of a community
The church is relational

Wood: Structure must always submit to Spirit

This value and environment speaks of the ability to celebrate the diversity in the body of Christ, and see that each person, as indwelt by the Holy Spirit, helps to shape the structure of the church - the Spirit of God dwells in people, not programs
Every follower of Jesus Christ is uniquely connected
The church is empowering

Fire: Relevance to culture is not optional

The transcendent glory of the living God is meant to be incarnated in our flesh and bones so that as we commune with Him, we are in a position to speak to the world from his heart
Every follower of Jesus celebrates communion with God
The church is incarnational

Earth: Creativity is the natural result of Spirituality

God has placed in each human being a remarkable potential, and when the Spirit of God begins to shape and form that potential in the character of Christ, the result is a creative, generative, good life
Every follower of Jesus forms Christlike character
The church is transformational

Tuesday Evening - Sessions 1 & 2 of Origins

In the first session Alex McManus issued us a challenge to remember how we had arrived here. We arrived because we had heard the primal calling of Jesus: "Come, follow me." From the very center of the universe, its creator and sustainer has called us into this moment, for this time, to follow him. Jesus' words come to us into history from eternity, and resonate with us at the deepest levels. From that resonance we understand that we don't have to live our life for ourselves, we don't have to be simply consumers, but producers of the good. In these moments of supreme importance, the superficial things can and must be left behind so that we can resonate more clearly and more deeply with the words of Jesus to live for something greater than ourselves.

In the second session I took no notes - I've heard Erwin's talk on this subject several times, so I tried to absorb it differently than by scratching out notes. The essence of the talk is that Christianity is intended to be a movement of people who will live by faith, be known by love, and be a voice of hope. It sounds simple, but this New Testament triad really is fundamental to the mission of Jesus in the world. Like I said, I've heard it before, now I guess it's a matter of applying what I've heard (always the difficult part, no?)

A Week in Review (Monday)

2005-05-18T13:55:00.000-05:00

Well, since I failed in my earnest attempt at blogging diligence while out in LA, I'll give you a recap from the week that was.

Monday Morning and Afternoon:

Monday we had a long day with Chip Anderson, who took us through something called StrengthsQuest - an approach to education and leadership that focuses on strengths as opposed to deficit remediation. A radical concept that I found very insightful. Here are a couple of the thoughts I pulled from this day:

Most theories of psychology and personality are based on studying illness rather than health
Most psychometric tests stem from the false assumption that the best way to make improvements is to focus on overcoming your weaknesses
Imagine the possibilities of followers of Jesus who are using all of their strengths to serve him and advance his Kingdom in the world

All of us (there were 14 involved in the group) really resonated with Chip's presentation. Add that to my thoughts from Erwin's message on Sunday at Mosaic about the parable of the talents, and there was a potent mix for me to think on. God has invested strengths in each of us, and he expects us to use them with excellence.

For what it's worth, here are the five strengths the assessment identified in me. Feel free to interact with me on these and let me know if you see these to be accurate or not (that should be fun ;)

Responsibility: Takes psychological ownership of everything he does. Will maintain relationships by following through with whatever has been assigned. People like this generate trust.
Belief: Has very strong values that form the filter for everything he does. The closer he is to moving in those core beliefs, the more energy he will have for the task.
Connectedness: The ability to see the interrelatedness of people and things. He will look to help people connect to each other, and be able to connect the dots from their past to their future.
Intellection: (This was the one with which I identfied most) He loves to think, loves to stretch his mental muscles. He may have the feeling that there is a committee meeting happening in his head as he turns over ideas in his mind.
Input: A natural curiosity for information, ideas, etc. He may often be viewed as a procrastinator, but is often just seeking more information before beginning the project.

Monday Evening:

This was a Q&A time with Erwin McManus, lead pastor of Mosaic. We (the International Mentoring Network cohort) were joined by students from the Doctor of Ministry program at Bethel Seminary for this time. Erwin fielded all kinds of questions, so what you'll read here will probably be the things that I found most applicable/interesting.

Since Mosaic is known nationally as a creative church community, Erwin talked about how creativity is expressed throughout their body

He warned us about the excessive focus on the Sunday service - those are not the only times for creativity to be expressed
He also encouraged us to layer the opportunities for creativity, and make room for believers to engage non-believers in creative efforts together
He talked about the desire to maximize human capacity, to free people to be the people God dreams of

He also fielded a question on the process of transitioning a church (something he did as The Church on Brady became Mosaic)

You will disenfranchise some people when you make significant changes in the life of the church - be willing to deal with that

For effective evangelism you must have the cultural pliability to absorb new believers - when your structure is so rigid, new believers (if there are any) will not be received well

Be willing to lose your job (always a favorite line to hear....)

Move clearly - as the leader, you must move with clarity!

The final question I took notes on was my own - How do you create the team necessary to lead the church?

Lead the right people to Christ - Who are the people in your community that you are actively seeking to bring into relationship with Jesus?

If you're going to reach your community, who do you need on your team? Then go find them in the community, not in another church!

See the uniqueness of people - help people see who they are created to be, and then help them move towards it with you

It was, is and will be Good

2005-05-11T00:13:00.000-05:00

Second full day of International Mentoring Network and the beginning of the Origins Conference here in Los Angeles brought a deepening of the conversations begun over the last two days.

Here's something that Erwin McManus said in his message on Sunday that I've been trying to chew on for the last couple of days. It's partially digested, so if it's a little messy, I guess I'll beg your patience.

Human beings were created not simply to reflect the goodness of God, but to actively advance the goodness of God in the world.

I've been thinking even before this conference about the word "good", and how we use it, and even abuse it in some of our language. In evangelical circles it has become almost passe to make the distinction between being saved by grace through faith and not by good works. We've made this distinction especially in areas where it's been important to tell Roman Catholics that their good works will never be enough to get them into heaven.

The amazing thing is that good works are exactly the things that God has been doing from the very beginning of the world. God created everything we see, and called it good. God created human beings and called it very good. God has created us for good works that he has birthed in the recesses of the distant past. In Peter's words in Acts 10, Jesus went around doing good and healing all the oppressed. Jesus himself when confronted with someone calling him "good" pointed to the reality that only God is truly good.

But if we were created not simply to reflect God's goodness but instead to advance God's goodness, then doesn't that change our approach? Don't we have to stop simply trusting in our correct beliefs and thoughts and constructs about God and instead engage ourselves in the mission of God to birth his goodness in the world?

I can think about the possibilities of just a single good work done in the name of Christ for the Kingdom of God to affect the course of one life. And if that good work is multiplied through the lives of those who then choose the good and refuse the evil, then the movement of God grows and extends its reach further.

I believe that good is more powerful than evil. CS Lewis said, "Badness cannot succeed in being bad in the same way in which goodness is good. Goodness is, so to speak, itself. Badness is only spoiled goodness." Goodness is good because God is good. And if you or I can succeed in advancing the goodness of God in word or deed, we will succeed in bringing into the world something that is true, something that will resound through the portals of time, into the future.

God created, and it was good.
God is creating, and it is good.
What will the future hold? Its goodness will be generated by men and women who take seriously their call to create a future filled with goodness. Will you?

What a Difference a Day Makes

2005-05-09T23:47:00.000-05:00

Hi friends. Those of you looking to follow the journey while I'm out in LA, welcome to the inaugural West Coast blog entry.

There's a group of about 12 or 14 of us here who are part of an emerging revolution. There are 12 or 14 of us who are looking to create the future that God has been dreaming to birth. There's something that's moving under the surface that may even be inexpressible at this moment that is going to find its way to the surface, and when it does, it's going to erupt in such powerful and profound ways that the church as we know it will not be able to contain.

We met today with a guy named Chip Anderson. A guy who is an absolute wealth of wisdom and understanding, and who was willing to take some of his precious time to pour out from that wealth onto people like me. His whole perspective on life and ministry comes from a shift in our approach that makes such a huge difference in how we live and minister. Here's the question he posed to us, and I'll in turn pose it to you:

What if the church stopped focusing on deficit remediation and instead focused on building its strengths?

What if you saw yourself the way God sees you, with all your God-given strengths, and you spent the rest of your life living to create the future of God's dreams?

What would emerge from a group of people who would cut the tether that binds them to mediocrity and engage the world with all of the passion, all of the drive, and all of the energy that God could possibly give us to revolutionize the world?

I have a feeling (and you can shrug it off as that if you wish) that I've seen the future. I believe (and you can call it west-coast wishful thinking if you will) that the goodness of God is about to be expressed in ways that are going to astonish us. I have a feeling that I've caught a glimpse of the fiery rim of a sun rising over a near horizon. And even if it's just a feeling, if it's just an indescribable sense, then I'm going to run with it. Do you want to run with me?

Run to the sun!

Coming Soon...

2005-05-06T12:49:00.000-05:00

Recently my brother gently queried me on my recent lack of blogging, asking me if I was taking a "blogging sabbatical." In fact I am not taking a sabbatical, as I told him, because a sabbatical to me infers a period of time for reflection and growth and what has been happening to me has been much more frenetic than that.

I'm getting ready to leave tomorrow (Saturday) morning for a conference in Los Angeles (Origins). I'm going as part of my recent involvement in something called The International Mentoring Network.

While in LA, I'll be meeting with several new companions that are also part of this network. They are revolutionaries (see last post...) and I'm looking forward to the way that this will help me advance the Kingdom of God in my own life and in this corner of the world. I'll be traveling with a good friend, Dale, and will also be joined by the lovely Rita (that's my wife in case you're wondering...) for 5 of the days we'll be in LA.

Last week while meeting with some other revolutionary friends, I committed myself to the daily discipline of blogging my thoughts and ideas relative to this experience. While my recent track record has been less than stellar, I'm going to do my best to keep the promise. I'll also be attempting to work in some pictures from LA into the blog, just to give you the feel for what's happening out there. All of you East Coasters will have to do your best to restrain your obvious jealousy!

That said, I hope those of you who keep tabs on this space on a regular basis will check in periodically over the next week or so to catch up on what's happening. Feel free to post snappy comments or "gentle queries" if you notice that I'm not keeping my promise - it'll help me!

Revolution

2005-05-02T20:29:00.000-05:00

Had a great dinner yesterday with superduper, his lovely wife Kate and their beautiful daugher Abigael. We were tossing around ideas about God, church, family and life in general. We were having church around the dinner table, and I felt the presence of God there with us as we talked. It's funny how I can work so hard to feel God's presence at times, work so diligently to create the place where I can meet him, then he surprises me by showing up in such ordinary and profound ways.

At one point we were talking about our churches, those particular expressions of the universal church that have sprung up in our locale, and we were discussing this apparent perception of the northeast as some sort of spiritual desert. It's true, church-wise you can find quite a few areas of the country that are more hip, more trendy, more churched, more a part of the church culture. But at the same time I think you'd be hard pressed to find a place that is more poised to have a spiritual revolution tip (I've been reading this great little book called The Tipping Point) in our midst.

I won't speak for anyone else in the room that night, but as we talked I had this great sense of anticipation at what God is going to do through spiritual friendships like this. I'll never compare myself intellectually, socially, or possibly spiritually to the founders of the American experiment, but I wonder if they had similar inklings as they would meet each other from time to time and discuss the issues of the day. I wonder if the spark in their eyes might have inspired the thoughts and dreams that shaped the future. And I wonder if people like me, with great friends like mine, might be able to tip a revolution that would shake the world.

I'm aware, and maybe you're thinking it - "There's already a spiritual revolution." I agree, and yet in the midst of that spiritual revolution I find the tragic, almost palpable absence of true Christianity. But when the way of Jesus is fleshed out in the life of his followers, revolution must ensue. No matter what is extended to contain it, no matter what is forced upon its advance, it must proceed.

Yesterday in my sermon from the book of Acts, I was talking about this group of Jesus' followers who made their way from Jerusalem to Antioch, the city of third imortance in the Roman Empire. This group went breaking the rules, preaching the good news about Jesus to the gentiles and offending the sensibilities of some of their more provincial Jewish counterparts. As they lived in Antioch, the culture had to find a new name for them - they called them Christians. I have a feeling that the name "christian" has been so overused and misunderstood that it has almost no value to those who claim to be one or those who claim not to be.

What if we were to follow the way of Jesus in such a revolutionary way that the culture, the community and the world at large would be forced to find a new name for us? What would they call us? What would we want to be called? I think our words and actions will have much to do with the names we are given - my only hope is that the names will be reflective of a penchant for grace, goodness, peace and justice.

Our Monochromatic [g]od

2005-03-29T20:54:00.000-05:00

Ever since the post on truth and beauty I've been thinking some about our perceptions of God, his truth and his beauty. I've been exposed to various discussions about the idea of truth lately, especially by those critical of postmodern thinkers and theologians. One of the statements that I found particularly intriguing was the desire by some for some of these writers to be more "black and white" in their statements, and a general sense that guys like Brian McLaren (as one example) have too many "grey areas".

So I had this thought, not based on any deep Scriptural exegesis or anything like that, just an emerging thought - why do we have to think of God in such monochromatic terms? Is it possible that God is not so confined to black and white as we'd like to think? Perhaps God is not limited by the starkly opposite colors of black and white. And certainly grey with all of its utilitarian connotations does nothing to inspire me to think of God.

When I look at the work of the divine artist, I see very little that would indicate to me that God is so black, white, or grey. There was one scripture verse that came to mind, and it's found in Paul's letter to the Ephesians where he is extolling the wisdom of God (it's chapter 3 verse 10 for those interested in looking it up). He says that "God's purpose was to show his wisdom in all its rich variety to all the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms." The word translated into "rich variety" there is elsewhere translated "manifold" and carries some of the implication of a prismatic effect. The pure light strikes the many folds or facets of a prism, and as it does, produces the variety of colors we know as the spectrum.

The richness of a red tulip reaching toward the sun; the deep green of a verdant field under the summer's sun; the cool blue of a late autumn sky lit with a late afternoon sun - these speak to me of a God full of color, and variety. If his wisdom is as rich as Paul makes it out to be, there seems to be no reason to confine it in such monochromatic terms as black, white and grey, as if God had nothing better or more beautiful to be than those.

I wonder how that might change our perception of God and the way that he views the world, maybe even the way he views us. Maybe it would change the way we view each other, as more than just the accumulation of years of black and white choices and thinking, into people who are, in some way, reflective of the divine wisdom.

Perhaps the years of life have caused certain impurities in our little prism. Perhaps when we speak of being purified by God's truth, he is removing some of those impurities with a process that somehow escapes our perfect understanding. And as he purifies, it is to make us reflect his light a little more clearly, with a little more color.

Would I then recognize the light of God reflected in someone else a little better? Might I then see past the impurities, and see them as reflective of God's image - no matter how marred it might be? And then when I saw that, I think it would move me to call them into the same process of refining and purifying in which I find myself.

I want to be beautiful. I want to be colorful. I think I could be, when his light strikes me.

Truth and Beauty

2005-03-07T22:37:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been several weeks now since I put together a coherent blog entry. My apologies to anyone who's been checking this site looking for substantive and thoughtful comments. The last entry of questions did provoke a number of responses - most of them directed at the two corresponding questions I posed: "Is all beauty true? Is all truth beautiful?"

My brother mentioned the ugly truths of death as evidence that perhaps all truth is not beautiful. There is a great deal about his statement I find compelling, but there is one major objection that continues to present itself to me as a follower of Jesus.

The crucifixion of Jesus represents, in many ways, the worst of human evil. It is perhaps the ugliest act which consummated a despicable and hateful campaign of systematic destruction carried out by those threatened by Jesus. With apologies to those not enamored with the film, the brutality and utter horror of the events surrounding Jesus' crucifixion were well portrayed in Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. Death can be horrific, maybe none more so than the type of death inflicted on Jesus. Not only subjected to an agonizing form of capital punishment, but stripped naked to carry his own cross through the streets of Jerusalem, and then hung openly for the pain of mental and emotional humiliation - this was evil.

And yet, if I read the Biblical writers correctly, there was present in the awful truth of the crucifixion a deeper, more enduring beauty than any they had known. Although I think it has been said before, I most recently read in Brian McLaren's book A Generous Orthodoxy, his description that in this event justice and mercy kissed. I wonder if further we could say that in the crucifixion truth and beauty kissed.

Never has truth hung in a more naked and abject form than the stark figure of an innocent man crucified on a lonely hill. Never has truth been so forsaken, so brutal as to be offensive to the eyes. But the beauty of self-sacrifice, the the attractiveness of love being extravagantly poured out in the face of such evil is equally compelling. There are times when I think upon the cross, meditate on its significance that I am moved to tears that are likely equal parts pain and beauty. Pain because the one who said he embodied truth was hung on a wooden cross with nails driven into his flesh. And beauty because I know that in that act he secured for me life that surpasses pain.

We speak of the cross as the expression of God's redemption. I think that carried in the idea of redemption is the divine ability to transform evil into good, ugliness into beauty, and cold into warmth. Jesus penetrated the most hideous depths of the human condition, and in those moments, I think he re-created a beauty surpassing explanation.

Beauty is true because in everything beautiful there is a reflection of the ultimate Creator. Truth is beautiful because God redeems even the most ugly truths in the cross.

Questions I'm Asking

2005-02-16T20:08:00.000-05:00

There's no real flow to this, just some random questions that I've been asking God and myself lately:

What's with the use of the word "community"? I'm using it myself a lot, and I wonder if I (we) really have a good sense of what that word means.
Am I a good spiritual leader? Why do I feel like a failure half of the time?
What does it mean to have Jesus teach me? I'm a bit afraid of the real answer to that, I confess.
Why am I so patient with strangers and so quick to be angry with those closest to me?
How can I help people make the connection between their story and the story that God is longing to tell?
Can the Sox repeat? (Ok, I don't ask God that one, but I am thinking about it...)
Have I gone liberal? If I have, can I ever go back?
Is all beauty true? Is all truth beautiful?
Why do we always seem to equate worship with music?

If at any point you feel like you walked into a self-pity session, please ignore that particular question. My intent is not to wallow, but simply to express some of the things I'm wrestling with at the moment. Please feel free to comment on any or all of them, I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Tailor Made

2005-02-02T21:01:00.000-05:00

I remember thinking some time ago about the word "tension." Most of the time tension has a negative connotation for us. We often associate it with relationships, and the unease created by certain situations or conversations in those relationships. But, there are in fact times when we should be thankful for tension. I've never been in San Francisco, but I've seen pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge. I imagine the people driving their cars over the Golden Gate Bridge are, if they thought about it, glad for tension - it's tension that keeps them out of the water.

I'm overwhelmed at times with the sense of tension in which God calls his followers to live. I've been thinking about one of those tension areas recently and I'd like to take a few minutes to explore it. Increasingly I feel at odds with the highly individualized version of Christianity that gets center stage in Christian circles. By that I mean the kind of theology that treats Jesus more like a personal mascot than a devouring, less than tame, lion. The kind of thinking about Jesus that leaves us with a lot of ourselves still intact, as if Jesus had nothing better to do with us than just get us into heaven when we die.

So I'm uncomfortable with that very narrow, microscopic view of Christianity. At the same time, I feel out of place in a Christianity that seems to want mass production of all things. Everything is an enterprise - certainly you must have read "(insert latest Christian bestseller here)", or surely you must watch "(insert greatest Christian Superstar here)". I'm tired of large scale standardization, where Christian disciples by and large look the same, talk the same, act the same and are, essentially, the same.

Is it then possible to have discipleship that leaves us less individualized, but at the same time more personalized? In following Jesus, I think we need less and less of the individuality that borders on self-worship. Often expressing one's individuality is a nice way of telling others where to jump off. An individualized form of discipleship makes all kinds of demands of Jesus as to what he will do with us (and of course, what he won't do as well). It places us squarely at the center of our own universe, and sees the ultimate goal of our lives as our own salvation.

What ever happened to Paul's statement about his Jewish brothers that he would rather himself be accursed than that the rest of his fellow Israelites be cut off from salvation? How many of us would have the courage to make such a statement? How many of us would mean it?

At the same time, I would love to see men and women be in the process of having their personality redeemed and expressed in Christian discipleship. I don't want Jesus to make Peter into John, nor yet Paul into Barnabas. I want Jesus to do exactly what he did with each of those men with us today - shape the raw material present into its highest and best form possible. I would hate to think that the best thing we can give the world is Christianized cloning, surely the God who created us all unique can re-create us that way too?

I thought of it this way. Suppose I had a little more money than I do. Suppose also that I had been invited to this very fancy, very high class event where only the best and brightest would be assembled. I could go rent a black tuxedo, and put on the black bow-tie and the black wingtips. Or I could go find a really good tailor, one who really knows what he's doing. I could go to the tailor and ask him if he could make me a tailored suit, custom fitted for my (albeit rather lumpy) body.

Said tailor would take some time with me. He'd measure my neck, my shoulders, my chest and waist. He'd measure my arms and the length of my legs. Then he would begin to craft the suit that looks best for me, the one that fits me just right. Rather than walking the red carpet in imitation of a thousand other standardized suits, I would arrive in something tailor made, custom fit, personal. It would be personal in the sense that it had been made for me, but also in the sense that it would bear the mark of the fine tailor who made it.

If you've ever seen any of these fashion review shows of the Oscars or Grammys or whatever (I have been forced by my wife to watch one or two) you find the commentators discussing not just the actors and actresses, but also the names of the designers are prominently displayed. "So and so is wearing _____________."

That's what I'd like to see for Christian discipleship. The kind of tailor made approach that takes into account the one being fitted, and that ultimately brings a whole lot of glory to the master craftsman who takes the time to find just the right fit for each one he outfits.

A Wolf in Authentic Sheep's Clothing

2005-01-26T21:00:00.000-05:00

Here's another word that gets used a lot in discussions about the "emerging church" - authenticity. I like that word. I have a great deal of respect for its ideals. I believe authenticity is at the heart of Christianity. I believe there was no one more "authentic" than Jesus, who was the real deal humanly speaking, and also was the genuine article when it comes to the divine. Unfortunately it seems that much of what passes for authenticity in Christianity now is just apathy in another disguise.

Much of what I hear about authenticity has to do with being "real", not putting on a false front, or a hypocritical appearance. I like that. What I don't like is when being real becomes a false front of its own. I don't appreciate when authenticity is used to mask the deeper issues that I really just don't want to deal with. I despise talk of being genuine and real that leaves no room for the transforming power of the Holy Spirit to come in and begin deconstruction of our facades and the erection of something solid and true. I don't like a fake, nobody does. But even less do I like someone who couldn't care less about becoming the person God created him/her to be.

If there's anything I think I've seen from the inside of the church world that sickens me it's this insidious apathetic sickness that seems to have invaded the bloodstream of the church, replacing the transforming bloodstream of Jesus with a weakened and withering substitute. Our apathy towards spiritual growth is astounding, and our apathy towards kingdom growth is simply inexcusable. And if you ask me the two go hand in hand.

If I have no desire for spiritual growth and transformation in my own life, then what business do I have even attempting to advance the kingdom of God? All I will succeed in doing (if I succeed at all) is in getting others to buy into a no-transformation gospel that will leave them just like they are because God knows that Jesus loves us so much that he would never attempt to change us at all, right? I mean, what would Jesus have to change about me?

I am hungry for authenticity that leaves us marked with the character of God. No, it doesn't perfect us instantaneously, but it leaves an indelible imprint upon us. If I don't have that, I don't have any authentic relationship with the Living God. I can't believe in a God who doesn't leave us changed in significant ways when we encounter him in any of the ways he chooses to deal with us. I don't buy into this fatalistic garbage, this "que sera, sera" mentality that leaves us crawling on our bellies in a mess of sin out of which we have no hope of ever rising.

The genesis for this post came from a conversation I had with a good friend a couple of months ago. We were talking about a book I had loaned him, the first part of which he had read. It dealt with some of the ideas presented here, and we had a rather humorous dialogue about some of our impressions. We came away with a new tag line that we thought would be appropriate to apply to this apathetic way of thinking. It goes like this: "I suck, and I think that you think you suck, so let's just get together and be sucky all together."

I'd like to think that we have something more to offer the culture than that. I'll take your authenticity, I like that. But check your apathy at the door, it's not welcome here.

Kingdom Shrinking

2005-01-19T20:27:00.000-05:00

There's a scene at the end of the movie Aladdin that has been playing in my mind lately. The climax of the movie comes when Aladdin convinces the evil Jafar to command the Genie to make him the most powerful genie in the universe. When he does, the unforeseen (to Jafar) consequence is that he also creates for himself a lamp, and places himself inside its small space. Aladdin's comment is something like, "Awesome cosmic powers...teeny little living space."

I often feel this tendency within the church to create for itself teeny little living spaces, and thus bottle up the awesome, cosmic power given to us as children of the Kingdom of God. Jesus left no doubt when he ascended to the Father that his expectation was that the church would involve itself in the ongoing establishment and advancement of the immeasurable Kingdom of God on this earth. But even before he departed, the disciples were asking him about the national kingdom of Israel and its restoration.

Strange how 2 millenia later we still have folks caught up in a nationalistic religion - the religion of Christianized America. I imagine that if Jesus himself were to sit down with us and share a meal with us as he did with his disciples before his ascension he would talk to us about the Kingdom of God. That's what he spent the three years of his ministry life declaring, and in the forty days after his resurrection that was the theme he left ringing in the ears of his disciples.

The conversation might run something like this:

“I’m talking to you about the Kingdom of God. I want you to understand the dynamics of life in this Kingdom, and be sure that you are wholeheartedly giving yourself to the pursuit of life in this Kingdom. I want you to live and breathe to advance this Kingdom, so that regardless of cost or convenience everything in your heart would beat with the passion to see the Kingdom of God advance. To do that, I’m going to send to you the Holy Spirit. This Holy Spirit will so immerse you into the Kingdom of God that you will feel as if you are swimming neck deep in it. You might even feel that the waters of the Spirit have risen over your head, and that you are being swept along by a force much greater than you.”

“But Lord, are you going to take care of America now? I mean, you must see the moral decay all around us, don’t you? There is so much about this situation that must displease you. It’s almost as if we are captive to evil forces that are continually getting the better of our nation, and we so desperately need you to free us from them. Are you now finally going to free America and restore to us our Kingdom?”

I wonder if we might receive a response similar to what those disciples heard – “It’s not for you to know. And in reality, it’s not supposed to be your concern. But when the Holy Spirit comes, he will change all of that for you. This baptism in the Holy Spirit will fill you with such an incredible power and passion that it will completely revolutionize your perspective about your Kingdom and mine. Your eyes will shift, and see things differently, just wait.”

There's been a lot of talk lately in the denomination with which I am affiliated about our "distinctives". The reality is that anything less than the advancement of the Kingdom of God is going to be insufficient to capture the heart of God. If we're more passionate about the restoration of America than we are about the Kingdom of God advancing, we've got serious problems. If we're more concerned about the decline of distinctive doctrines than we are about the fact that the Kingdom of God is not advancing, then we have issues bigger than we know.

The Kingdom of God is bigger than America, it's bigger than my denomination or any other one for that matter. God help me if I ever begin to shrink the Kingdom of God down to a size that's possible for me. I want to be immersed in the flow of the Holy Spirit in his mission to this world. I want to be swimming over my head in the thundering current of the Spirit of God as He rushes forward expanding the Kingdom of God. I could sign up for a baptism in the Holy Spirit that leaves me breathlessly following Jesus, uncertain of even the next turn, but knowing that there's no stoppping now.

I'm tired of playing around in the lamp. I wish to be free.

Invisible/Invincible

2005-01-12T21:09:00.000-05:00

Following my last post, superduper (AKA Nick) posted a reply that I felt deserved some extended consideration. If you didn't read it, he said:

"However, I’m struggling to reconcile your call to be “invisible,” with our hope that culture will discover Truth and Beauty...Can we be both invisible, and beautiful?"

For a great deal of my life as a Christian I felt this nagging sense of inferiority. It permeated my thoughts about myself, and colored my perceptions of others. I saw clearly my own imperfections, magnified by a significant propensity for insecurity. I struggled with (and still do many days) the kind of navel-gazing that leaves one entirely selfish, focused on that grandest of exploits - self-improvement.

For some time I honestly believed that Jesus came to improve me, to make me better. I was completely convinced that if Jesus "had all of me", or was "my Lord and Savior", that he would be constantly busy with the need to improve on my imperfections. I believed that my prayer time should be devoted to those things, and that verses from the Bible were meant specifically to address those imperfections in me, even if their context spoke nothing to that effect at all.

I'm not sure when I came to realize it, but I did - I was striving for invincibility. I was striving to become one who was powerful, who had been improved to such a point that no sin or evil would ever get in past my impenetrable walls. And the greatest realization to me was seeing that Jesus wasn't about improving on me, but about destroying me, and rebuilding me in his image. His business was not fooling around with the cosmetics of my exterior walls, but their utter destruction and the subsequent invisibility that would come from their fall.

I believe I am most beautiful, most true, most authentic when I am seen least. That's not because I think I'm not valuable, or important in the eyes of God or anything like that. It's just that I'm convinced that all of my truth, all of my beauty, and all of my goodness flows from Jesus, and that when I get all bothered about showing off what is "mine", I end up making a mess of God's beautiful art piece.

I believe the church is most beautiful, most true and authentic when we are seen least. I believe that when we wish for visibility and recognition we take a hacksaw to God's canvas and find an infinite variety of ways to shred his beautiful image. I believe that when Paul wrote to the Corinthian church about their use of the gifts and corrected them, he was making the very germane point that genuine love for God and others will never allow ourselves to become the focus.

So, to answer the question, we can be invisible and beautiful. We must be. The lyrics to a song I heard some time ago say this:

Invisible and mighty,
Unleash your image through me
Until I feel your heartbeat
And truly live

Through our invisibility, the invisible God becomes visible. As long as we are seen, he is not. And if he is seen, then we will shine with a radiance and beauty that is like the bride on her wedding day. And there is no one more beautiful than a bride.

Intersection

2005-01-10T22:07:00.000-05:00

Circles are funny objects because, when drawn well, they appear to have no beginning or end. The end joins with the beginning and the two are nearly impossible to distinguish.

The church ought be found at the intersection of Christ and the culture, in the place where those two meet. If properly done, the church itself would (I think) be almost indistinguishable - the little mark on the circle where if you look closely the intersection is visible. Its significance is not undermined by its invisibility, in fact maybe just the opposite. But for too long we've been concerned about making sure we're visible, and in so doing, we've failed in our mission to be the intersection between Christ and the culture. We've made our mark, but the circle has remained open.

We meet in places inaccesible to the culture at best, and at worst inherently uncomfortable and even hostile. We've made a living off cultural critique and have created an economic and political machine to be continuously fed with cash and energy that perpetuates the broken circle. Our meeting places should maybe look more like the cafe than the cathedral, more like the supermarket than the sanctuary.

Let's face it, the cultural critique of many evangelical and otherwise conservative Christians is not all that far off. A quick glance around your television guide will show a host of inane and moronic shows (Who's Your Daddy...anyone?) as well as continual descents into the most impoverished states of morality and ethics imaginable. So for years the Christian response has been to create "Christianized" versions of all the crap that passes for entertainment.

Shouldn't the role of the church be, in part, to lift the culture out of its own mire and into something more beautiful, more true, more artistic and wholistic? If the church could, in relevant ways, help men and women see truth and beauty, I believe we would be helping them to see God, who is the ultimate expression of truth and beauty. Unfortunately, an overwhelming obsession with truth at the expense of beauty has made a beggar of the church at the doors of the world. We have lots of truth, but very little beauty.

When people enter a place which houses any group of people that claims for itself the title "church", they should be able to clearly see both truth and beauty. Maybe the reality is that truth is beautiful, and beauty is truthful, and we can leave it at that. Can we show them something beautiful about God and let them walk towards the truth they see? I hope so. The circle must be made whole, and the church is the only organism equipped with the power and passion to complete the circle, I truly believe that. I'm willing to be invisible in order to make it happen, are you?

Postmodern Overload

2005-01-05T21:30:00.000-05:00

Postmodern is the new church buzzword. There are postmodern churches cropping up all over being led by postmodern pastors with postmodern worship, candles and art. The fellowship in which I currently (btw I was about to use "presently" but recently learned that "presently" means "soon" and not "now" - just a grammatical tidbit for you) serve recently published our ministers journal which had at least two articles referencing the postmodern craze.

My first introduction to the word was from Leonard Sweet when I happened to pick up a book called SoulTsunami essentially because I liked the cover and had nothing to read at the time. It was further elaborated for me especially by Brian McLaren, and continues to be filled in and nuanced as I keep reading and writing. So I'm not an anti-postmodernite. I'm somewhat fond of the term, and am particularly intrigued by the ideas presented by some of these writers as to the importance of understanding and reaching postmodern culture.

But I was reminded today that I have no real love for postmodernism, postmodern churches, pastors or services. When postmodern is simply synonymous with being the most hip and cool new church in town, it leaves quite a bitter aftertaste of consumerism in my mouth. I have no real desire to be cool and hip. I don't have the body, the brain or the money to pull it off. But I do love people, people of all shapes, sizes and colors, and it is this love that drives me to seek ways of reforming and transforming the church.

Rather than running to catch up with what is happening in the culture, I would call the church to lead culture. Instead of standing on the sidelines critiquing the heterodox and heretical spiritual revolution happening all around us, we should be leading a truly Spiritual revolution, one that pulls the world in its wake because of its passion and power.

If God has his way with the church, we'll stop fooling around on the edges changing elements of style and moving around the furniture to make it look better inside. I think we'll find a lot of our furniture in the trash and the curtains forming the basis for tonight's bonfire. I'm not passionate about postmodernism, but I am passionate about seeing people make a genuine connection to God who so desperately loves them that he sent Jesus to redeem them. If that means standing waist deep in the filth of this present world to point people towards a savior, then I'm convinced that's where the church should be. Stop hiding in your safe places, cowering like frightened children under your covers.

Sometimes I dream awake, and when I do I see a church that fills the world with its presence, whose heart beats with passion for people and not the latest program or buzzword. When I dream, I find that I don't particularly care about postmodernism. When I dream, I'm tired of the postmodern discussion that is nothing more than another retread of me getting what I want out of the church. When I dream I hope to see what God sees, that somehow his vision might flood my eyes with impossible possibilities. God, I hope that my dream comes true.

Christmas Future

2004-12-28T20:39:00.000-05:00

Once more into the breach with a Christmas-themed post, and then we'll be back (I think) to some thinking about christianity, culture and the church. But for now...

Have you ever made the classic mistake of asking a woman, "Are you pregnant?" only to have her look back at you aghast? Since this blog is an impersonal medium, I can ask the question hopefully without fear of retribution from any offended ladies (or men for that matter): "Are you pregnant?"

It's a strange question, and its straightforward tone may surprise you. But pregnancy is all about possibility, potential, and a look to the future. Mary, Jesus' mother, received an angelic visitor and was informed of her impending pregnancy by the overshadowing power of the Holy Spirt. Ebenezer Scrooge entertains the spirit of Christmas future who reveals to him the events that may be if his present course remains unaltered. Both look to the future, and both find themselves in a state of receptivity to an altered future.

They make an odd pair, don't they? The miserly Mister Scrooge and the maiden Mary. It is their willingness to go forward into an altered future that marks them as significant. And it is our unwillingness to amend our ways that locks us into a damning, defeating prison of insignificance. Shackled by our own shortsightedness we sit in the dark and allow our eyes to rot and our vision to fail.

But the angel's departing words to Mary should cause our eyes to gleam and our hands to itch for freedom. "For with God, nothing will be impossible." The future is the exclusive province of God, and possibility is his possession. He invites us into the future, his voice echoing within our ears, whispering about the possibilities that are ours because we are his.

What is being conceived in you by the overshadowing presence of the Holy Spirit in your life? As impossible as it seems, remember that the future is his, and the dreams he plants in the fertile soil of your spirit, he will patiently water and lovingly tend to maturity. I've never been physically pregnant (and never will be), but I am pregnant by the Holy Spirit, and full of possibility.

By the way, are you pregnant?

Your valour is vain...

2004-12-22T21:42:00.000-05:00

When I was 16, I received a gently used copy of JRR Tolkien's books The Lord of the Rings. As a kid I had watched the two cartoon versions of The Hobbit and The Return of the King (I think that's what it was called) and had been pretty intrigued by the story. My mom was/is a huge fan of the trilogy, and in fact my sister (much to her chagrin) is named after the village Bree - although her name is spelled differently.

So, suffice it to say that I have a LOTR pedigree that's pretty substantial. I've read the books now several times, and in fact read a significant portion of the trilogy to my son from the time he was a year old till he would no longer sit still for me to read anything to him that didn't contain lots of pictures and rhyming words (about 7 months, if you're wondering).

So when I first heard that the books would be made into full length films, I was pretty excited. My wife and I went to see The Fellowship of the Ring together in the theater, and actually watched it a couple of days before my son was born. Anyway, this past week when the extended version of The Return of the King came out, I picked up a copy with pretty eager expectation.

It occurred to me as I was watching the film unfold, that there was a profound truth being illustrated for me there on screen. I know, I know you Tolkien purists will assuredly refer me to his prologue in which he states that he "cordially detests" allegory, so I'm not saying it's a Christian allegory or anything like that - but what I saw was certainly telling to me in my experience of Christianity.

On the one hand you have the great, sweeping battle of the Pelennor fields, with the forces of Sauron crashing into the city of men, bent on utter destruction and ruin. You have the horns of Rohan blowing in the distance as the Rohirrim prepare to ride to wrath, ruin and the dawning of a red day. You have Aragorn sweeping up the river Anduin under a cloud of black sails, only to unfurl the white sail and emblem of the king at just the right moment.

And on the other hand you have Frodo and Sam, two small and otherwise insignificant hobbits, scratching and clawing their way into Mordor. Inch by inch willing themselves closer to the cracks of Mount Doom, to the place where ultimately the battle will be decided.

In my own experience of reading the books, I found it very tempting to skim through the Frodo and Sam sections, wanting always to get to the big sweeping battles. But I was reminded as I watched again this week that the real battle, the real test, the real victory or defeat, was in the inch by inch, moment by moment struggle of two unobserved hobbits.

It's easy in Christianity to get caught up in things big and sweeping. It's easy for people like me to talk about and write about big things like the Kingdom of God, the Church and the like. But in reality, the real struggle, the real significant battle is being waged in the relative obscurity of my heart. It is in that shadowy place that I, inch by inch, allow myself to be moved toward the image and likeness of God. It is in that place that I may take two steps forward and another back all within a matter of hours. It is in that place where my possibility of failure is greatest - though there might be great success in the open fields of battle.

Many people want to be war heroes, seeking the fame and fortune of public success. Fewer people are willing to pay the price of scratching and clawing one's way closer and closer to the destruction of those things which will ultimately consume us. But today I'm reminded again that it is this price that must ultimately be paid for me to accomplish anything meaningful.

Gandalf, at the last debate of the lords of men, says this, "If he regains it [the ring of power], your valour is vain, and his victory will be swift and complete: so complete that none can foresee the end of it while this world lasts. If it is destroyed, then he will fall, and his fall will be so low that noe can foresee his arising ever again...Other evils there are that may come, for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary. Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule."

The Christmas Dance

2004-12-21T13:50:00.000-05:00

Several years ago I wrote this short piece at Christmas. I thought I'd share it here today...

"Tell us a story, Daddy!"

Christmas Eve had fallen, fresh and new as the snow falling softly outside the windows of the old farmhouse. The children, three girls, were filled with the excitement of Christmas, brimming with expectation, nearly to overflowing.

Warm, but slowly cooling cup of coffee in hand, he sat down on the hearth before the fire. It too was slowly cooling, so another log was added while the girls gathered round their father, and the fire.

It would not be easy. This had always been her task; the telling of a Christmas story. Somehow he had not heard them well enough over the years. Silently he cursed himself for not paying more attention. There had always been one last errand to run, or one last toy still in the "some assembly required" state needing attention.

"Daddy?" The voice broke in on his silent reverie, "You do have a story for us, right?"
"Yeah Dad, it's not Christmas without a story."

But it was not Christmas without her.

For days it had been at the back of his mind, nagging at him. He knew the story was expected, yet he could not bring himself to look for one. He could not browse through those old books; her books. Somehow every story spoke of her, held her voice low and barely audible beneath the words. Warm, and slowly cooling, were the embers of Christmas dying.

On the hearth of his heart she still sat, the story still being told in hushed tones as he struggled to continue day after day. She had blazed upon his heart like a dancing flicker of fire, but he now felt the dance inexorably slowing; and it scared him.

Could he forget, or could she somehow disappear? Disappearing had always been his Christmas act, surely these roles could not be reversing.

And then the story came. More like a blizzard than a gentle snowfall. A veritable whiteout of images filled his mind like the white snow filling the window to the world outside. Somewhere the embers had been touched, stirred ever so slightly, and a flame appeared again.

There looking into those eyes, pregnant with expectation, there was a story. It was the story that had been written, and was as yet still being written.

"Did Mommy ever tell you about our first Christmas?"

This certainly was not what they were expecting, and the youngest was quickest to inform him that that was not a "storybook story".

But now, like a child into a snowdrift far above his head, he plunged on. Beginning at the selection of the tree years prior, and sweeping across scene after scene, the story unfolded before those expectant eyes. And as the story grew, they sat transfixed with something which seemed strangely familiar, and yet remarkably foreign.

And now the light of a Christmas past shone through the frame of all that they knew. They had found a tree, they had baked cookies and drank egg nog on the hearth of the fire, and they had heard her voice, telling tales of Christmas long since gone. In fact, they realized they had never conceived of Christmas without them, and suddenly they saw for the first time.

Soft tears had formed in his eyes; eyes that had seen and known Christmas before they had seen the bright light of the sun reflected gloriously on a white coat of snow. And there now, he saw in their eyes a new knowing. It could be said the story had come alive in their eyes.

And as they looked at the candle in the window just right, they saw a flicker of a flame dancing in the falling snow.

Christmas Presence

2004-12-20T21:09:00.000-05:00

Well, life has gotten the better of me for the past week or so. The Christmas season tends to be one of my busiest times of year, and though I enjoy it thoroughly, it leaves little time for blogging. I still have a couple more gifts that I intend to buy over the next couple of days, and it has me thinking about presents, and whether instead of them, we should be thinking more about presence.

In other words, what will my presence mean to Christmas this year? How will it affect my wife? My children? My father and mother? My sister and brother who will join our family at our home for Christmas this year? My brother whose presence will be missed as he and his wife celebrate at a distance?

I like presents, don't get me wrong, but I'm wondering more about my presence than I am about my presents this year. I want to carry myself in such a way that things like justice, mercy and faith are wrapped up in flesh and bones and left in the hearts and minds of those I love. I want to be unwrapped, as it were, and for my friends and family to see something that leaves them with a deep sense of peace and joy when they find it.

I'm not sure how I'll do, other than to be sure that I'll do it less than perfectly. And although I won't be wearing any red ribbon, nor will I be found under this year's Christmas tree, I hope to make my presence felt, and leave a lasting impact on those I touch. Presence carries with it the feeling of immediacy, the importance of the moment, and the need for things holy to be seen, heard, tasted, touched and even smelled. Perhaps this year I will bring to Christmas dinner more than my appetite, and will offer a taste of the presence of Jesus in our midst. I hope so - we need him there.

The Spirit of Christmas Present

2004-12-16T20:42:00.000-05:00

In what is for me (growing up in the 80's) the classic adaptation of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, Ebenezer Scrooge (played beautifully by George C. Scott) finds himself visited on Christmas by the spirits of Christmas past, present and future. Each spirit shows him different scenes from his life, and the spirit of Christmas past puts her mission this way, "I speak of your reclamation..."

While perhaps the most ominous and "mercurial" of the spirits is the ghost of Christmas yet to come, the most intriguing to me is the spirit of Christmas present. He takes Scrooge on a tour of sights, including the busy Christmas marketplace, and the home of Bob Cratchit (and the infamous Tiny Tim), and brings him by the home of his nephew Fred to look in on the festivities there. Finally he takes him to a place in the city where the homeless dwell, attempting to eat and keep warm by a meager fire. The scene unfolds with a dialogue between a couple who are struggling over the decision to go to the poorhouse or to stay on the streets.

When the scene fades away, the Spirit of Christmas present parts his robe, revealing two wretched children under the robe, wanting and wasting while the music crescendoes and punches the air dramatically. "These are your children, Ebenezer Scrooge. Want and Ignorance!"

For most of us there is a great desire to have an extra helping of the warm fuzzies at Christmastime. We expect to have "carols sung by a fire", to hear the sounds of "chestnuts roasting on an open fire". We want to feel good inside, to reminisce over the memories of Christmas past that warm our hearts. And those are good desires - I myself have them.

But if we were to receive a visit from our own spirit of Christmas present, I wonder what he might say to us?

Rather than the dulcet tones of Mr. Sinatra, I wonder if we might hear the harsh sound of a baby crying in the cold of a winter night. Having just emerged from the warmth and protection of his mother's womb, he has entered into the cold reality of a deep winter's night. The angels announce that the Christ, the Savior is born, but we might not hear them over his newborn squalling.

In theory we know that he was born without a home, but in our practice we much prefer the comforts of home (or a warm church at least) to the struggles of the cold, often harsh realities of the world out there. What if we allowed the cold reality a moment of our attention? Would we find, as Scrooge did, that it disturbed a good night's rest? Perhaps we would find ourselves slightly less comfortable in our warmth than in years past.

It's cold outside, if you haven't noticed, take a look around. It was not for the warm fuzzies that the Son of God became flesh, it was for cold reality. It was not for the privilege and pleasure of detached observation of humanity that Jesus came. It was for the express purpose of salvation from the inside out. It was to enter the cold reality and bring it warmth that he came, and for it he died.

He was born into the cold reality so that he might show it to us through his eyes. So that he might remove the illusion of living detached from the condition of the rest of humanity. If he could not, why should we expect to?

My favorite Christmas carol asks, "What child is this...Why lies he in such mean estate?" Why? Because even in his infant state, his cries plead for the warmth of humanity. Do you hear what I hear?

[trans]Form

2004-12-13T21:45:00.000-05:00

Forms which are living are always shifting, always changing and adapting to their environment. So, if the church is supposed to be a living, breathing organism, then its forms should be in a rather constant state of flux, they should be dynamic rather than static.

It is as a result of the dynamic nature of the living breathing church that we have any hope of being a transformative influence on the culture and the world. It is precisely because we never stay the same that we have the slightest chance of leading a spiritual revolution. But when we trade dynamic life for static structure, well then, we've lost our hope, we've lost our form, we've lost our way.

Can we envision a church structure that is much more fluid and dynamic than it is solid and static? Even in my tradition (Pentecostal, spirit-filled, etc.) we've made this trade-off. What began as a movement has become a denomination. What began as an uprising of spiritual fervor has become a government of spiritual standardization. We believe that we've captured the movement of the Holy Spirit, and can't see him slipping like wind through our grasping fingers.

I want to allow the Holy Spirit to have freedom to blow away the things about us that are ineffective and holding us back, and I don't want to hold on to them so tightly. In order to be used to transform, we must ourselves be transformed. We offer no hope of change, no hint of dynamism when the culture sees us locked into familiar and comfortable routines. When we are simply rehashing old arguments and preaching to the already convinced, then we are having no transformative power in our midst, and we are not being the church God intended us to be.

What does all this mean for form? I think the form of the church of my dreams would be much more transient, comfortable with change (though not just for the sake of change) and capable of living from spiritual moment to spiritual moment. It would encourage much more spontaneity, and would live to see people swept away in the movement of God's Spirit. Rather than controlling people, and using them like pawns in a leadership agenda, spiritual leaders would be about releasing men and women into the movement of Jesus in this world. The retention of people for the sake of fattening the "numbers" would be ancient history, and we would measure success by how many peope have been released into the mission to transform culture from the inside out. We would be encouraging people to be immersed in the culture, and exert the kind of leadership in that place that would set the standard (whether it's in the arts, writing, movies, politics, etc.)

Jesus said that those who are "born of the Spirit" are like the wind - blowing wherever it pleases. They cannot be predicted, or pinned down. When God's Spirit blows upon them, they move, instantaneously. And when we move, we don't do it alone. We speak in words, pictures, sounds and tastes that awaken inside the world a hunger for the presence of the living God. We live and speak in such a way that men and women see the shadows and hear the echoes of an invisible Kingdom that is making itself visible. The transcendent glory of God is fleshed out in ways that resonate with the culture, and draw them (even if only inch by inch) towards the heart of the living God.

After all, the church is supposed to be about [trans]formation, right?

[re]Form

2004-12-11T21:54:00.000-05:00

If, as I've said below, form follows function, then a discussion of function should generate some thoughts about form. It is the ultimate question when we talk theory about anything, "so what?"
What does all the talk of function tell us about form? Again, maybe I'll take one or two thoughts at a time and try to string together some coherent ideas about the form the church might take in the years to come.

One of the first words I would use to describe form is "integrated". I've become obsessed recently with the idea that our lives should be much more integrated than they are. From the tendency to segregate our children in worship services to our penchant for shipping our elderly off to "retirement communities" where they won't be a bother to us any longer, we've reduced our lives to small compartments, which are to be protected at all costs.

Ideally, the church of the future, the church of my dreams, would exist in such a way that integrated lives would be more probable and more possible. To me, church would feel less like church, and more like home. Or maybe vice versa, and home would feel more like church, I don't know how you want to put it. But when I say church would feel less like church, I mean to say that it would feel less like a place to go, and more like a place that was always with us, a companion, if you will.

Quite possibly the church would then show up in most unexpected and unlikely places, for that is how the early church seems to have been. When no room was found for them to discuss Jesus in the synagogues, they would take to the streets, the marketplaces, the philosophy schools and the public forums. (I'll pause here to shamelessly plug my friend Nick's blog for a recent post on Kirkegaard's thoughts on preaching in public settings) What if there was room for us no longer in the four walls of church buildings, and we were (God forbid?) kicked out into the streets? Would we even know what to do anymore? Or have we become so dependent on the physical structure that the reality of living as the church in the culture have completely escaped us?

I would expect the church to show up in bar rooms and at ball games and at backyard barbecues. I would expect the church to spontaneously interject itself into conversations at the cafe, or to break into the daily monotony of work and play. I would imagine that what happens on Sunday (or Saturday or whatever day we might meet) would be truly integrated with the rest of our lives. I would imagine a place where the church could be considered to have met any time the Spirit of God infuses himself into the meeting of a group of people. I would imagine a place where I bring the experiences of my life from Tuesday to the community with whom I worship on Sunday, and where together we learn what it is supposed to look like to follow Jesus in this world. I envision a place where the honest seeker could find such a genuine life and presence of Jesus among us, that there would be no question that God is among us.

Now let's be honest. That's a little mushy, a little flabby, and maybe even overly idealistic. There are a thousand questions that come out of that, all of which are probably really good and really important about how to practically make that work. But to me the prime question is whether or not it's the right thing. And if it's the right thing, then it's worth taking a crack at, isn't it?

Could you or I envision a church that was capable of erupting into the culture in such a way, or do we have to have it all micromanaged and strategically planned for it to happen? Is "church" supposed to be special, or is it supposed to be everyday? For all of our talk about living for Jesus 24/7, we've done a pretty good job of cutting it down to 1 1/2 hours on Sunday. If we will ever awaken a Spiritual Revolution in this world, we must [re]form. If we will ever stop eavesdropping on the culture and actually begin speaking to it, then we must [re]form.

Eau de Self

2004-12-09T21:16:00.000-05:00

So, I'm a little unsure of posting this here on such a public forum, with the high volume of traffic I know my blog is generating (wink, wink), but here goes.

Yesterday my wife Rita dropped an absolute bombshell on me. We're sitting at the table in the short space of time that we have between when I come home from the office and she leaves for the bank. She tells me that her sister, 18 years old and truth be told more than a bit unstable, is pregnant. I won't go into all of the sordid saga that surrounds this event, but suffice to say that this is not a planned pregnancy, nor is the one pregnant the most reliable, stable, nor competent person I've met.

Well, that's enough to rock me back on my heels for a few moments. I met her almost 9 years ago when Rita and I began dating, and in some ways still remember her as a little girl. And in a lot of ways she still is just that - a little girl. But now she's a little girl making big time, grown up decisions that will have a huge effect not just on her, but on her child and the rest of her family.
And if that had been the end of the discussion that would have been enough, and I might never have been posting these words.

But instead my wife proposed the question to me: should we approach this sister with the possibility of adopting her child? This is probably not the appropriate place to air all of these details, so again, suffice to say that in our opinion, this is not someone who is truly capable of raising a child. She's not really competent to care for herself in many ways, so the responsibilities of parenthood are probably going to be well beyond her scope right now. (You can call us judgmental and all of those things if you want, we can handle it.)

Truth be told I had a million and a half objections to this idea - not the least of which was how in the world would we possibly take care of another baby, with the two that we have already consuming so much time? Where in the world of our two bedroom apartment would we put another child? How would we ever begin to broach the subject with her sister without causing WWIII?

Rita, with all of her grace and compassion, looks at me and asks me how many of the objections I have floating around in my head were selfish. The audacity! I think I managed some lame thought about how we'd be depriving other adoptive parents of the joys of this child and some other crap like that. The reality - every single lousy objection I had was about me! And the stink of myself is gathering rancid in the air around me even as I type these words. It's so thick I can practically taste it.

And then I think, it's great to have all these wonderful ideas about church and form and function and blah freakin' blah blah blah. It's "deep" to think about what God is trying to do in the world with the church, but do I have the time, energy, compassion and selflessness of Jesus that would move me to act on the behalf of someone in need? For my own family? God, I sicken myself sometimes; I wonder what you must think of me wallowing in the mud of my self-centered pity party? God, what would you, the ultimate self-sacrificer think of one who claims to follow you who can't care even for one of the least of these? Forget the 18 year old girl and the pain and agony she must be enduring. What about the unborn child who is about to be brought into a world that's difficult enough, and doesn't need the added complications of a mom who's practically incapable of caring for herself?

The eau de self is not pleasant. I wish there was some cologne that could mask it, or make it go away, because no matter how hard I scrub and how much I wash, I can't seem to make it go away. The only cure is, as I suggested yesterday, from the inside out. A complete and continual redefinition and reordering of my priorities which would allow for selfishness to move lower and lower on the list. That's what I know Jesus is trying to do in me today, I just hope I come out on the other side smelling a little better than I do right now.

Inside Out

2004-12-08T20:01:00.000-05:00

I've been doing some more thinking about yesterday's post, dealing with our mission as followers of Jesus to penetrate (or be absorbed into, as my brother Andrew preferred) the culture in which we have been placed.

The danger we face (so we think) in this mode is that we will lose our distinctiveness, that somehow the culture will begin to flavor us, and in Jesus' words, that we would "lose our saltiness." Sadly we (self too often included) have run scared from the kind of interaction with culture that would leave us with any possibility of redeeming it in favor of creating Christian communes and religious subculture that will protect us from the evils of society at large.

I want to propose that the best way for the church to fulfill its function is to go to the heart and soul of culture and this world and begin transforming it from the inside out. Our bodies are amazing when it comes to this process. When working properly, they heal themselves from within. God designed us to work that way, and he did a fantastic job.

The coming of the eternal Son of God in human form (incarnation) tells me that God is setting things up to work that way when it comes to redemption too - from the inside out. Not God sitting outside of the world demanding that we make our way out of our own sin-sick and diseased ways, but God entering this world, this culture, this flesh, this blood and walking around in it. Smelling its stink, feeling its agonies, and crying its tears, Jesus bore this body because God would redeem the world from the inside out. No thunder bolts from heaven, no lightning flashing as God demanded re-creation, just the crying of a helpless child who entered this world in humble fashion so that we might be redeemed.

So why would he expect the church to function any differently? Why would he expect the church to redeem culture from the outside in? Why would we (on a global and local scale) convince ourselves that our function would be anything other than that of redemption by incarnation?

The massive systemic disease of the human condition will never be cured by know-it-all religious doctors who attempt to stand outside culture, diagnose its disease and prescribe proper remedies for its healing. The cure for what ails us is found in the incarnation - the coming of Jesus into the world so that his church (interesting that Paul's favorite term for it is "body") would also be the Word in flesh in this world.

Imagine what it would look like for Christians to take seriously our mission to heal the world from the inside out. We might trade our spiritual pride and arrogance for a poverty and humility of spirit that would leave us practically unable to stand in God's presence without an acute sense of our desperate need for him. We might accept our own brokenness and mourn over the diseased condition of others in such a way that would compel us to act with compassion for them. We might start making peace among others, rather than stirring up strife and contention everywhere we go. We might begin to purify our hearts and desires and motives so that they would more accurately reflect the heart, desire, and motives of our perfect and pure Father in heaven.

I can envision that church. Can you? I can envision that group of men, women and children who so passionately believe in Jesus' transforming power. I can see them now, and when I see them, I don't see them outside culture, but inside it, bringing grace, peace, goodness, mercy and healing from the inside out.

Form and Function (the chicken or the egg...)

2004-12-07T20:42:00.000-05:00

The brief excursion into the silly world of balding men is set aside, and now we can begin again the dialogue on this beautiful and eternally frustrating organism commonly known as the church.

I have an obsession with sports radio. I live in a sports crazy area (New England) which boasts the number 1 rated Sports radio station in the country - according to their own advertisements. The Providence station to which I occasionally listen, carries a national program from 12-3 in the afternoons called The Jim Rome Show. One of his major sponsors is something called PB Blaster, and the tag line to his promos for this particular product (something like WD-40 from what I gather) refers to the "penetrating power of PB Blaster."

I've never used PB Blaster, but it makes me think that if I had a problem with rusty bolts, I might give it a shot. It's got penetrating power, Jim Rome tells me, and for whatever reason, I'm inclined to believe him. And for all of the trust I place in Jim Rome, I place even more in the person of Jesus. So when he says things of his followers (self included) like, "you are the salt of the earth," I guess I'm pretty inclined to believe him on those things.

Problem is much of church experience has taught me that form matters more than function. That the method is more important than the message, and that the kinds of things we do are more important than the kinds of people we are. That's not old news, and it's not a diatribe on our forms (some of which I love and some of which I wish would go away), just a commentary on misplaced priorities.

Our function, in my opinion, should always determine our form as a church. If our forms ever begin to dictate to us who we are supposed to be, then we've entirely missed the force of Jesus' teachings. What if the church were known as a group of people who were fulfilling our God-given function as salt of the earth? How would that change our forms? How would that make us take stock of what we're trying to accomplish by getting together from week to week?

Take a break, sit back and think about that for a moment. Really think about it.

A couple of observations about salt that should give us some indication of our function (and maybe some hints at form):

Salt penetrates. It does its best work when it is being rubbed into a piece of meat, or even (ouch) into a wound. The funny thing is that most times you can't see salt on the surface, because it's been absorbed into the thing being flavored. Why is it that many churches are known for their ability to stand outside culture and talk about its ills while never making the slightest effort to penetrate culture? What if we worried less about being seen and heard, and more about being tasted? The way the healing influence of Jesus is exerted in this culture and world in which we live is as followers of his allow themselves to be pressed into the meat of culture, and heal and flavor it from the inside out.
Salt flavors. There is too much bland Christianity. Too much tasteless Christ-following. I'm tired of talk of discipleship that merely makes us into nice people and good citizens. I think the way of Jesus is revolutionary, tasteful, and overwhelmingly flavorful. There are some who will not like the taste of salt, I grant that. But there are others who, when they taste it, will recognize it as the flavor they have lived their life trying to find.

This function, this penetration of culture with the healing and transforming power of Jesus' way is what I want to be about. I'm not enough about it, I'm not enough in it myself at times, but I want to be. The other night I went to a friend's "church". It might have been unrecognizable as such to some, but it illustrated this to me beautifully. My friend was hosting a CD release party for a musician at a Providence theatre. I was surrounded by the culture, encircled by men and women, some of whom were desperately in need of healing a full-flavored life. And there was my friend, emcee for the night, and penetrator of culture. Doing everything within his power to exert the healing influence of Jesus on people from the inside out. Taking advantage of any means necessary to flavor his world with the character of Christ. In my best, and most refined manner I'd say to that, "Good form, chap. Good form."

Becoming an Island

2004-12-07T16:18:00.000-05:00

I know for the most part I've been pretty serious in my posting on this blog, that is after all the purpose. But I have to say, this afternoon I went to get a haircut in preparation for our family Christmas pictures this week, and the results were not pretty.

It's not that the cut was bad, the woman who cut my hair was fine, polite, and engaging. She did a good job trimming up my hair, making it look much neater than it did, and overall gave me a pleasant hair-cutting experience.

The problem lies with my genetic predisposition towards baldness. I'm 29, I won't turn 30 for almost another full year, but my hairline is in full-blown recession. I mean like recession worse than anything the US economy has seen in years. And this recession, I noted this afternoon, is beginning to look a lot like a full scale depression.

You know how some guys get that island of hair on their forehead. Like when the continents drifted apart, the hair begins to drift away from its moorings, and swim in the sea of forehead skin. That's where I am today. My peninsula is becoming an island, and I don't know if this is the precursor to early onset of midlife crisis, but I don't like it at all. For years I promised myself I would not obsess about my hair loss, but here I am, obsessing in public fashion like some neurotic prima donna.

I've always said that when the hair really started to go, I'd just shave it off. That day grows closer and closer with each passing trip to the hair salon.

Good Dinner, Good Friends

2004-12-03T22:19:00.000-05:00

Tonight Rita and I (along with our kids) had dinner with some friends of ours with whom we've recently reconnected after a period in which we had, for the most part, lost regular contact. Two of the most genuine and beautiful people that we know. During the conversation we got around to some discussion about church, and each of our present experiences in that context, and the question came up, "what about the weekend service/event? What should that look like and what purpose should it accomplish?" This may come out as a series of posts over the next few days while I try to process some of this for public consumption...

I guess the first thing I wanted to address was the fact that in most church circles we've become nearly obsessive compulsive about our weekend services. I know that in my life as a pastor, much of my thought and attention is focused in the direction of what will take place for about an hour and a half on any given Sunday. I feel increasingly dissatisfied with that experience, as I find it to be disintegrating, rather than integrating, my life.

Let me 'splain. No there is too much. Let me sum up. (Gratutitous Princess Bride reference, if you've never seen it rent it tomorrow, you'll thank me for it)

Why shouldn't the Sunday service look more like the rest of our life? Why is it that on that particular day, for that particular block of time we make extra efforts to connect with God? If Sunday (or Saturday, or whatever day your church community gathers) were more integrated with the rest of our lives, I believe we might have a much more vibrant and healthy expression of worship to involve ourselves in.

What happens when people gather themselves together in a church community should be an expression of what God has been saying and doing in them and through them throughout the course of their lives. I envision it as a celebration of how God's story and our story have intertwined over the past six days, and a commitment of our time and energies to continue the interaction of our story with God's. Shouldn't my hearing of God's story on Sunday engage me in such a way that it shapes the way I approach my work on Monday? Couldn't the conflict that I experience with my wife on Wednesday be part of the way God speaks to us on Sunday?

In other words, I'm tired of having church services. I'm tired of a seemingly endless rehearsal of facts and information about God that we already believe and about which we could care less. Let's awaken a spiritual revolution that would encompass everything about us, including what happens when we gather together with other believers. Let's create places where people, no matter where they are on their journey with God, will have the opportunity to get involved in God's story. Let's not leave those who are seeking a dramatic encounter with the living God staring at us in open-mouthed disbelief at our paucity of spiritual experience. Let's allow people to jump into the story, and find that their lives become more integrated, more whole, rather than more segregated.

Next time, some thoughts about form and function...

The Journey

2004-12-02T21:24:00.000-05:00

A while back I had this creative outburst which centered around my thoughts about what the church could and should be. That might seem like a strange thing to think about, but it's much of what consumes my time and energy. To be frank, it bothers me that most churches fail miserably to accomplish much more than alienating people with whom we disagree and frightening people who might be interested in hearing more about us. So my thoughts were driven by a passion to see the church become more like Jesus, and less like an activist for the Religious Right. I'm convinced that there's so much more to the church than what has been seen lately, and I absolutely want to be part of seeing her become that.

So here it is, I called it "The Journey - A Story of Vision"

When they began, it was as if the road found them. Taking form under their feet as they stood transfixed by what they had seen and heard, the road now began to stretch towards the horizon. Without the need to speak words, they knew; undeniably the path must be taken. They could not conceive of another choice, it was plain.

They were five. When the light had come, they felt its heat, and they were bonded together, forged in its fire, tested, refined, and prepared. They would each later
recall the ever present sense of fire in their center that had been sparked at
that initial encounter. In a flash they had been transformed into children
of the future, and now the future beckoned.

Sun setting and heat dissipating, five companions embarked. The musician began to sing an ancient walking song, the melody rising and falling like the rolling of green
hills in the summer. There was a sweetness to its sound, a sweetness that
tasted like honey on the tongue as the words began to roll up from the heart and
out through the lips. It was the taste of freedom!

And so they sang as they walked, these five friends. They sang and their hearts
were glad to walk and sing. It was the beginning, and there was hope, and
a future.

When the sun was gone, the moon would come. As it rose it cast a pale, silvery light over their party. And the companions would find a place to rest along the road. A fire was lit, and as they sat, the voice of the storyteller would come to life. His voice was deep, a resonant bass that could be as much felt in the chest as heard in the
ears. Perhaps the feeling in the chest was the result of an increase in the pace of the heart. For he told stories with such passion and fury that to hear was to be moved.

With his powerful voice he would drive away the fears of night. The friends would rest, warmed by the fire and stirred by the stories until sleep took them. And even there, in their dreams, they found courage rising, and fear fleeing.

As they walked, talked and sang, they were reminded not only of the light and heat, but
of their primal connection to the people whom they passed. One among their
fellowship, the poet, would often stop with those they were passing.
Spontaneously flowing from her soul came images and rhythms bursting with the
light of love. Those who heard her voice felt a light and heat which was
healing to the core of being. Brokenness was washed away in a healing
flood of tears as hope was renewed in their hearts.

On other occasions as they stopped in a village the people would shy away. They
were, after all, travelers. They often bore the dust of the road on their clothes, or the rain had soaked them through as they walked. In such moments the artist would stride to the center of the village. She would take the most humble elements of earth, color, wood or stone and begin to create something lovely in the midst of that place. One by one, sometimes in pairs, the villagers would come to see the work in progress.

They found their imaginations captured as beauty itself took shape before their
eyes. It seemed always to speak of a truth for which they had longed, but
never quite tasted. They saw through the art, and were transported by it to a place of glorious and inexpressible light.

In their company walked a prophet. Not a loud, ostentatious man, but a man who was clearly in touch with a world which could not be seen. What was invisible seemed
tangible to him. When he spoke, or wrote, he initiated a clear confrontation with the invisible God, the source of the light and heat. Like a bolt of lightning his images illuminated the hearts of those who heard. He mediated an undeniable and profound experience, and as he did, the light and heat crashed into the lives of the hearers. Some would dance for joy at their newfound freedom, while others walked away, heads bowed in sadness as the celebration roared around them.

They moved on their journey never looking back, filled with the hope and promise of the future. As if from nothing the road rose to meet them, and their steps continued to fall on solid ground. The love which encompassed them was abundant, a constant reminder of their intimate companionship; a vigilant guard against the deadly peril of competition.

As they walked, they drew nearer to the source of the heat and light, nearer to the heart of life itself. Though they had never before looked back they heard the voice of
the prophet speak, “Now! Look back!”

And as they turned they turned they caught a brief, astonishing glimpse – the world was following.

The Cast (In order of appearance)

The Musician: The Holy Spirit sparks in us the divine ability to create within the sustaining context of the character of God.
The Storyteller: The church community exists to connect the story of God with the stories of human beings.
The Poet: The church must feel an intrinsic connection to human suffering and move with powerful compassion to serve a broken world in Jesus’ name.
The Artist: The church is compelled to meet our world in relevant ways with the transcendent glory of the Creator God.
The Prophet: The church must mediate an undeniable encounter with the fiery heart of God.

Life Grip

2004-11-30T20:47:00.000-05:00

You've probably heard, and used yourself, the phrase, "death grip". Probably not all that uncommon. You've also likely heard the commercials for Dodge in which we are encouraged to "grab life by the horns." These two phrases came at me a couple of days ago and intersected in a weird kind of way.

I'll take the second one first. The problem with "grabbing life by the horns" is that it's not really an option for us. In fact, seems to me the more I try to grab onto life, the more I find it slipping through my clenched fist. The more earnestly I seek to hold tightly to this life, to swing it in my direction, according to my best laid plans, the more I find that I am not really the one doing the grabbing, or the swinging. Steinbeck's classic phrase about the best laid plans of mice and men seemed to make that long journey from high school english class to the present and home into my brain.

The first phrase is the basis for the title of this post. Some things seem to catch us in a death grip, to take hold of us and squeeze the very life out of us. It's in those moments that we find ourselves struggling to breathe, gasping for air, feeling for all the world like our guts are being torqued into oblivion. Whether it's in a relationship, a financial situation, a job issue, it's that completely powerless and virtually helpless feeling.

God, who is the author and giver of life, wants to do just the opposite. He wants to catch us in a life grip, to take hold of us and our lives, and relentlessly pour into us the divine ability to live. In his hands, we become the willing objects of divine life, which in turn is poured out to others in a ceaseless river of life.

Some Christians, many well-intentioned, have made a habit of pointing out that they possess eternal life. To my shame, I've been one. In effect, we have been very deft at pointing out that this eternal life is our possession to the exclusion of others who we know for certain, do not possess this eternal life. Jesus did not come to be grasped by us, to be possessed by us. He did not promise that we would grasp eternal life and hold it as our everlasting possession.

Jesus came so that eternal life (eternal not being simply quantitative as in endless, but also qualitative as in divine) might possess us. Not the mechanistic possession that becomes controlling and driving, but the laying hold of our life that results in an alteration of that life for the good of His Kingdom, and through His Kingdom, the good of this world. We are not possessors of eternal life, eternal life has gripped us.

What If...?

2004-11-29T05:49:00.000-05:00

"What if...?"

I was thinking yesterday about the debilitating effects of this question. I find myself continually asking this question, and going over scenarios in my mind where I wonder if things could have or should have played out differently.

Maybe in the act and process of awakening, one of the most important things to remember is that yesterday is gone, in the words of Tolkien, it has "passed like rain on the mountains, like a wind in the meadow." I cannot greet the new day without leaving behind the old one. I cannot, and will not, embrace the dawning without looking forward. I'm amazed at our capacity for looking backwards, and attempting to walk into the future that way. I'm amazed because I'm convinced that God does no such thing.

Of course, for him, past/present/future are really nothing at all, just words we must use to distinguish the passage of time. It seems that for God the only real time is the present, the now, the moment that is eternally before him. And in those moments, "what if" doesn't mean very much at all. "What if" is just a convenient way of locking God out of our present, and keeping us from moving into the future. "What if" is another circumvention of destiny, another way around the difficult path that lies ahead.

I'm awake, it's early (for me), and the "what ifs" of yesterday are scratching at the door, wanting to come in. For now, I'm keeping the door closed, and walking forward.

For a great read on this and things like it you might check out Seizing Your Divine Moment by Erwin McManus.

Morning

2004-11-28T21:46:00.000-05:00

Morning and I are not friends. I am not just realizing this, I am just re-observing it. My brain seem surrounded by a thick fog, my joints ache a bit more now than they used to, and sometimes (ok most times) my heart just isn't in the act of getting out of bed. There is so much of me that desperately wishes to bury myself in the covers once again, and pound my face back into the pillow. To embrace and be embraced by this wonderful thing called sleep.
I guess it's a perfect metaphor for my present experience with God. While he has been sounding the alarm clock to wake up for some time, I have continually pulled the other way and plowed headlong back into the warmth and comfort of my bed.
All I can hear him say is that the time for sleeping is over - it is high time to awaken and live. It is beyond time to give my life its purpose, its center. It is time to cast off the sleepy restraints of comfort and security that sing the sweet lullaby of apathy over my head.
Because the reality and truth are that I am not really tired. Some invisible and contradictory force keeps telling me I'm exhausted, but I know in my soul that it's false. Exhausted from what? Oversleeping? I cannot be exhausted because I've already done so little. So little accomplished with what I have been given that it sickens me to think of the waste and uselessness of it.
That drowsiness of spirit that comes from too much sleep is my enemy, not my friend. And although I began by saying that morning is not my friend, I think I begin to see more clearly now. Morning isn't the problem and neither is the morning sun. The problem lies with me, with my unyielding desire for comfort and predictability - for the provision of safe places devoid of risk and passion.
If I may compare, God's voice sounds to me now like the repetitive buzzing of a brazen morning alarm clock. There are moments when I know, without a doubt, that I am being called to rise up and to begin the day. But those moments are often followed by a fervent desire to throw the alarm out the window and pretend its sound never jarred my ears. There are even more moments that I, with every intention of getting up, turn off the alarm gently only to roll over once and be quickly, stealthily engulfed in sleep.
If you're looking for the good in this, here it is. This morning, I got up. I sat up in my bed and put my feet on the ground. I hobbled half asleep into the bathroom and turned on the light. Today the alarm clock inside got the better of me. I'm awake.

In the Beginning (Part 2)...

2004-11-11T08:24:00.000-05:00

Hi and welcome to The Dawning!

This is going to be a standing post that you’ll always be able to link to from the “Links” section on the front page of the blog. The purpose is really quite simple: to give you an opportunity to tell your stories, ask your questions, or share prayer needs. It’s possible that I’ll use your questions or stories as fuel for a post later on (with your permission, of course), but in general I’d just like to stimulate some conversation among you as the readers about where you’ve been, where you are, and maybe even where you’re going.

Feel free to interact with each other, to express your thoughts and ideas openly, and to be liberal and generous with the grace you extend to each other.

With that said, let the stories flow…

In the Beginning...

2004-11-11T08:04:00.000-05:00

Hi and welcome to The Dawning!

I’m relatively new to the phenomenon of blogging, but my thoughts on it have already changed, and my intentions have shifted in the 8 months or so since I began writing.

My original intent in beginning this blog was to create a place for me. A place where I could express my thoughts, sharpen my writing, and maybe even blow off some occasional steam that builds up over time. I never was much for ranting and raving, however, and I think my posting (hopefully) tended towards a more constructive vein.

Over the past couple of months I was struck by two thoughts. First, that keeping this space to myself and a select few friends was a pretty selfish thing to do. If I believe that some of the things I’m trying to work through are important, then I should share them with as wide an audience as possible. Second, I had kept this blog private especially in the context of my role as the pastor of a church. I had willingly (sorry to say) attempted to bury my thoughts because I was concerned about what people in my church would think if they really knew what I was thinking at any given time. I didn’t give them enough credit, nor trust enough in what God might do through a medium like this. For that I’m pretty disappointed with myself.

So now, for me, blogging has evolved. I’m not simply trying to write my thoughts, and blow off some steam. I’m trying to create a place where we can interact with each other, wrestle with some difficult questions, and see each other grow in the process. I’m hopeful that you’ll join me in this journey as we move forward together.

A practical word. Some of you are self-confessed technically challenged. Commenting on this blog is a relatively easy endeavor. At the bottom of each post there is an underlined section of text that will read “___ comments”. If you click that link, it will give you the opportunity to leave your comment to be read. You’ll be given three options for posting comments. The first is to create a Blogger account and login using your Blogger username. That’ll take you some time, but it’s an option. The second option is “Other”. If you select that option you’ll be able to leave a comment with your name attached, without signing up for a Blogger account. The third option is to comment as “Anonymous”. Feel free to use that option if you would like, for some reason, to post a thought without everyone knowing who you are.

Ok, I think that should be enough for us to get started. Thanks for joining me and the other members of the community who are already here. We’re glad you’re with us, and look forward to the perspective you’re going to bring.

Grace and Peace,
Keith