Tired

As we get toward the end of this week, I’m just shot.  Exhausted.  Worn out. 

Ever been there?

It’s not all bad stuff—in fact, some really good stuff!  And, of course, some really bad stuff.  But mostly just a lot of “stuff” stuff.  I see the brokenness of those around me.  I feel the reality that their brokenness is also my brokenness.  I start to work on crossing things off the to-do list.  More stuff gets added to the to-do list.  I realize more stuff is being added than is getting checked off the to-do list.  I find myself adding stuff to the to-do list that I’ve actually already done, just so I can check it off.  I find that those things are decreasing in their impressiveness—things like eating lunch don’t typically require a slot in Microsoft Outlook.  And I realize that I’m not only tired, but I can now add somewhat unproductive to that as well.

And normally, I just roll with all that.  You probably do too.  But today, I’m just wiped out.  Bodily tired?  Check.  Emotionally drained?  Check.  Spiritually zapped?  Double check.  At least I’ve completed one list for the day.

For years I’ve been fascinated with the ancient church in Ephesus.  It’s the first-century church that we have the most information on—a relatively detailed account in the last 1/3 of the book of Acts, a letter bearing their name that Paul wrote, two letters from Paul to their young pastor Timothy, and finally, the words of Jesus Himself as He addresses the church in Revelation 2.  When I imagine that church, I imagine a well-oiled machine.  They were rockin’ and rollin’ long before the Beatles ever broke onto the scene.  They had solid Elders, strong teachers, watched their doctrine carefully, and were “enduring patiently.”  (Revelation 2:3) The church was planted and set-up by Paul himself, who becomes a sort of consultant for them.  They had Timothy, the young all-star pastor hand-picked by Paul to lead this great church.  And guess what?  Within just a few generations, the church was completely gone.  Wiped out. 

That should make all of us nervous—it certainly does me!  There was far more going for them than we have going for our church… and most of the churches in the world, I might add!  And within a few short generations, it was all gone.  Poof.

What happened?  I think we get a clue in Revelation 2:4-5: “You abandoned the love you had at first.  Remember from where you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first.”  They were chugging away at all the externals, but they had lost their first love.  They were getting the outside right, but missing the core.  And what is Jesus’ prescription?  Do the works you did at first…

Think back—if you’re a follower of Jesus, what did you do when you first fell in love with Him?  For me, I devoured the Word.  I mean, devoured.  Reading, memorizing, studying, cross-referencing.  Devouring.  I loved it.  And you know what?  When I find myself truly weary—not just tired from a long day, but truly weary—I almost always find myself having slowed in those things I did at first. 

I’m so thankful that Jesus acknowledged that we would get wiped out.  “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest…” (Matthew 11:28)  When we’re weary, He’s the only source of life. 

Sure, we can keep plugging away, just like the church in Ephesus did.  We can keep shaping the externals around what everyone expects of us while we fall apart on the inside.  And when we do that, I wonder if there will be a day where we’ll wake up and realize that our faith is going the route of the Ephesian church… slowly disappearing.  External righteousness doesn’t help us, but it does make us tired.  What does Jesus say when He calls?  “Come to me…”  Not check off the moral to-do list.  Not meet everyone else’s expectations.  Not rest inside the mold of cultural religiosity.  Come to me.

I think being weary might be a gift.  It’s in our weariness that we’re invited; and maybe it’s only in our weariness that we’ll truly come.

Rest well, my friends.  I’m planning on it. 

Jesus said, "Follow Me" - Part 3

OK, for both of you that have been anxiously awaiting this third post, I'm a few days late.  I can give you a variety of excuses for that, but honestly, you don't care and I'm not really prepared to think that hard.  So, without further ado, part 3...

Without fully restating what you can easily read yourself with a few clicks of the mouse, I've been working through the idea that Jesus very clearly called those of us who consider ourselves to be His disciples to follow Him, and yet, there are very few lined up behind Him.  If we're going to be honest, which most of us make it a practice to never truly be, our lives look pretty dramatically different than His.  We seem to love different things, connect with different people, base our decisions on a different set of values, and generally look much more like just about any character in the Bible other than Jesus--with the possible exceptions of John the Baptist and Ezekiel during that "lay on your side naked while cooking your food over animal poop" period.  (Ezekiel 4--seriously, that's in there.  The people who say the Bible is boring have never actually read it.)

As a church, we've wrestled with this, and tried our best to honestly study the life of Jesus as well as the teachings of the Bible to figure out what it actually means to follow Him in 21st century North America.  Of course, we all wish that it was a prescribed list of commands and check boxes--not only would that make it easier, but who doesn't love to check things off a list?  That's how I finally got up the motivation to write this blog post--I needed to check something off my to do list, and the rest of what was on there looked to be basically impossible.  But I digress.  Jesus doesn't give us a checklist--He gives us His Spirit.  Which is way better, but if we're honest, is way more difficult to figure out most of the time, because God has this habit of being far more concerned about our hearts than our external behavior.  So, rather than a checklist, there are seven areas that we see Jesus constantly operating within.  In part 1, I talked through what it means to have a lifestyle of worship, live within authentic community, and to build our lives on the foundation of the Word.  In part 2, I talked about what it means to engage in prayer as the first work, recognizing that God is the only one who is actually able to transform us.  Today, I want to look at the products of that transformation: serving the body, engaging missional living, and becoming the shalom of the community. 

Maybe the easiest way to think of these seven areas is in terms of an hourglass:

Within this image, worship, community, and the Word act as the environment for God to work.  However, it's only as we truly encounter Him through prayer that we are transformed.  Within that transformation, something is produced within us, and that transformation is poured out into the world around us through service, mission, and bearing peace.  But what does that look like?

Serving the Body.  I love the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet in John 13.  It's such a perfect picture of servanthood--not just because the God of Creation was willing to do the most menial job known to first century man, but because it wasn't His gift.  So often, we excuse our lack of service because "that's not my gift" or "I don't feel like the Spirit is leading me in that way."  Jesus washed feet for a simple reason: it needed to be done.  When God transforms us, the very first thing that He transforms is our heart for the body of Christ.  Paul, speaking of marriage in Ephesians 5, says, "no one ever hated his own body, but nourishes and cherishes it."  Then, a sentence or two later, he interprets for us: "I am saying that [this] refers to Christ and the church." (Ephesians 5:29, 32)  When we are transformed by Christ, He gives us a heart to serve His body, and we are willing to pour ourselves out to that end.

Missional Living.  One of the remarkable things about Jesus' life is maybe most clearly seen in the gospel of Mark.  In Mark 8, Peter answers a question that Jesus posed: "Who do you say that I am?"  Peter's answer: "You are the Christ." (Mark 8:29)  Simple.  Clear.  And it changed everything.  Mark records that Jesus "began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things..." (vs. 31) and will proceed to follow Him in a direct line to the cross.  The writer to the Hebrews said it this way: "who for the joy set before Him endured the cross." (Hebrews 12:2)  Jesus' was driven by a singular mission, and He's passed that mission onto us.  We are to go into the world around us, and "make disciples." (Matthew 28:19).  We are to be doing "the ministry of reconciliation" as "ambassadors for Christ." (2 Corinthians 5:18, 20)  It's not an activity we should engage now and then--it's a new way of living.  C.S. Lewis once said it this way: "All day long we are helping each other to one of these destinations [eternal glory or eternal horror]."  We are called to live each moment with that reality in mind.

Shalom of the Community.  Can you imagine being around Jesus?  Mark, again, gives us perhaps the clearest picture as he describes the crowd that seemed to be ever-present around Him, pressing in to hear Him, to touch Him, to simply be with Him.  Why was that?  Genesis 3, for all the debate about Adam and Eve and trees and apples, describes a moment in time where everything broke.  All that was once perfectly harmonious in a single moment was completely broken.  I think this is some of what Solomon had in mind in Ecclesiastes 3:11 when he said: "God has placed eternity in each man's heart."  There's something in us that remembers; we long for the harmony that once was.  In fact, Paul will say in Romans 8 that all of creation "groans" as we await redemption!  However, in Christ, harmony is restored.  That Hebrew word is shalom and it's a beautiful fusion of harmony, peace, wholeness, and rest.  Shalom is the gift that is ours in salvation.  Not a trite happiness, but a deep peace, even in the midst of the storm.  And we are called to bear that peace, that shalom, into the world around us.  I wonder if people long to be with you and I the way they longed to be with Jesus?

It's only when we meet Jesus and are transformed by Him that these things are produced in us.  Hear me, dear friends: if we try to produce them on our own, we will become bitter, frustrated, and tired.  However, if we'll take the time to truly encounter Him, we'll find that He's giving us all we need in order to truly follow Him.

Peace to you as you journey with Him.

This material is taken from the forthcoming book “Follow Me: Discipleship that Moves Us” which will be released in early 2013.

Jesus said, "Follow Me" - Part 2

Environments play an important role within our lives.  Likely, when you think back over the momentous occasions in your life, you can remember specific things about the environment.  I remember the distinct feeling of the church that Amanda and I were married in, even though I had never been in it before, and haven't been since.  Places like the beach create a flood of memories and feelings for me, simply by experiencing the environment.  Environments also can create certain behaviors--put my four year old in a relatively open space with things that he can climb on and jump off of, and you can bet he's not going to sit in a corner and read a book!  The flashing lights of an arcade will always pair with teenage boys.  Candlelit dinners will always mean something more than a couple trying to save on electricity.  And I can't even tell you how many times I've almost run out of gas looking for the relatively clean, well-lit gas station, in the hopes that the bathroom inside matched the environment outside!  Environment means something.

In the last post, I talked about the first three of the seven factors that we use to describe what it practically means to follow Jesus.  We said we need to live a lifestyle of worship, be connected to and invested in authentic community, and base our lives on the foundation of the Word.  All three of these were characteristics of the way that Jesus lived His life, and part of what He means when He calls us to follow Him.

However, can I point out something that may or may not be obvious at this point?  If we achieve each of these three things, regularly engaging them as a part of our journey with Christ, we still haven't really gotten anywhere.  I can be someone who regularly connects my heart with Jesus in worship, stays connected to brothers and sisters in community, and can be a student of the Word, and yet, I could still be bored!  You might argue with me, reasoning that true worship, real community, and a right understanding of the Word can't exist without action coming out.  Before I agree with you (that will be coming in tomorrow's post), I would simply rebut your argument with "Exhibit A: The American Church."  While I would agree that there's been a breakdown somewhere along the way, it seems that these three things are held in pretty high regard with no real behavioral transformation in quite a few places all around us...

However, just as a physical environment sets the stage for certain behaviors, these three factors create a spiritual environment.  They may not be "ends" by themselves, but they are certainly "means" to which we get to the ends!  Now, here's what's vital to understand--the environment is set, not for my activity, but for God's activity.  Maybe the best way to think of it is that worship, community, and the Word all act like kindling and wood for a fire--but only God can set that pile of sticks aflame.

So, that brings us to the fourth factor: Prayer as the First Work.  At our church, we call it "the first work" because we believe that it's the first and most important work to which we're called.  Here's why: when we engage Jesus through prayer, we never remain the same!  When we truly encounter Him, it's always a generative encounter.  Often, one of our early encounters will produce salvation.  Things like spiritual gifts are also produced.  But so are things like: mercy for the broken, compassion for the hurting, drive to know more of Jesus and His Word, desire for holiness, a heart for service, passion to see people know Jesus, and on and on.  It's through that encounter that Jesus does His best work!  And if you look back a few blog posts ago ("Good and Best"), it's also when He reminds us of what's most important.

So what happens after that encounter?  Do we simply enjoy all that He's producing in us?  Tomorrow's post will round out the cycle...

This material is taken from the forthcoming book “Follow Me: Discipleship that Moves Us” which will be released in early 2013.

Jesus said, “Follow Me.” So where did everyone go?

All verbs are not created equal.  There are commands that give me a perfectly clear directive: “Eat this meat.”  “Ride this bike.”  “Drink this coffee.  And that coffee, too.”  Makes sense.  You need to do no more than command me and get out the way. 

However, other commands have always eluded me for one reason or another.  “Conjugate this verb.”  Huh?  “Transpose this stanza.”  Will it hurt?  “Wash these windows.”  Silence…  Difficult, confusing, unsavory—whatever the reason, there are commands that seem to constantly elude.

The question I’ve been wrestling with over the last few weeks is this: what kind of command did Jesus give to us when He said, “Follow me”?  Difficult?  Sure.  Confusing?  Maybe…  Unsavory?  Depends on the moment.  Clear, direct, and to the point?  You betcha.  So why are there so few in the “Jesus line,” actually following after Him?

For years, I’ve attributed both my own lack of true pursuit, as well as the very short line of crazies that seem to be actually trying to follow Him, to the challenge of figuring out what that actually looks like in 21^st century North America.  It’s hard for us to really know what Jesus meant for us to do, I reasoned, since His culture is 2000 years removed from ours.  So much of what we have to deal with He didn’t really deal with: you know, money, family, jobs, broken government systems, stressed economies… oh, wait… 

Maybe the challenge is that “following” seems so intangible and personal to us.  After all, Matthew “followed” by leaving behind the tax collector’s booth (Mark 2:14), and Nicodemus “followed” by remaining in the sect of the Pharisees (John 3:9-15, 7:50, 19:39).  Lydia followed with her wealth in tow (Acts 16:14-15)—Ananias and Sapphira tried that, and they didn’t get too far… literally. (Acts 5:1-11)  Does “following” look different for each of us?

As we as a church have wrestled with what Jesus meant to “follow” Him, and what that might look like for the average “dude and dudette” in the good ol’ U.S. of A. in the 21^st century, we’ve come back to seven distinct areas.  Jesus Himself lived them, so it makes sense that He would call us to live them as well.  However, a real commitment to that life radically alters day in and day out living!  I’ll be the first to admit that my family and I are still in the “baby steps” stages of this pursuit, and it’s already led to some head-scratching decisions for us as a family.  However, Paul’s admonition that by forsaking the values of the world and living under the values of Jesus is the only path that leads to the “live that is truly life” (1 Timothy 6:19) is enough to keep us chugging along the path to joy.

What are the seven areas?  So glad you asked!  I’m going to post the first three today, one more tomorrow, and then the last three on Friday.  Stay tuned!

Living a Lifestyle of Worship.  Interestingly, we don’t see Jesus gathering on the Sabbath, singing songs, and then calling that activity “worship.”  Rather, worship for Jesus had a much broader definition—He connected all of life to the reality of the Father’s presence in His life.  “I always do the things that are pleasing to [the Father].” (John 8:29)  Jesus never segmented life—everything fell under the authority and jurisdiction of the Father.  We must do the same.  Our families, our finances, our jobs, our hobbies, our eating, drinking, and chores that we run around and accomplish—each of them are an opportunity either for distraction from the glory of God or for worship.

Having Authentic Community with Believers.  I’m constantly amazed by Christians who claim that the need for deep, transparent community with other brothers and sisters just “isn’t their personality.”  Hebrews 3:12-13 goes as far as to say that without it, our hearts will harden and we’ll fall away!  Jesus Himself shared His deepest struggles to His inner circle of disciples, humbly asking them to pray for Him (Matthew 26:38).  Everything in our world pushes toward surface relationships where we trumpet our strengths and hide our weakness.  Christian community requires a concerted effort to not only do the opposite, but to commit to one another that we’ll continue in that way.

Building on the Foundation of the Word.  Jesus knew His Bible.  Not simply because He was the Author, but by the difficult work of memorization and meditation.  His responses to the temptation of Satan in the wilderness shows a deep knowledge of and meditation on the book of  Deuteronomy (Matthew 4:1-11).  Paul declares that the Word of God is “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be…equipped for every good work.” (2 Timothy 3:16-17, emphasis added)  In a world that seems to have gone completely mad, we are called back to the solid foundation of the Word—not as a “road map for life” as is so often stated, but rather, as a revelation of the One who is life (John 1:1-4).

Worship, Community, and the Word.  Summarized: love God and love people, often cited as the “Great Commandment.”  (Matthew 22:37-40)  Certainly the specifics of each of these will look different for every follower, but if those of us who intend to follow Jesus get serious about each of these, our lives will become the environments in which Jesus does His incredible work.  Is it hard?  You betcha.  Sometimes it’s “washing the windows” hard.  Sometimes it’s even harder than that.  (See Romans 8:22)  But it’s worth it.  Why?  Because, as Peter said to Jesus after one particularly hard call to follow Him: “Where else would we go?

“You alone have the words of life.” (John 6:68)

This material is taken from the forthcoming book “Follow Me: Discipleship that Moves Us” which will be released in early 2013.

How Confident?

As I plug through the Gospel of Mark, I've been meditating this week on the story that opens Mark chapter 2.  You might be familiar--Jesus is trying to take a vacation after an especially exhausting season of ministry, but everyone finds out where He is and the crowd descends.  He, of course, being God and all, is far more gracious than I would be.  While I would be assembling the shotgun (OK, for those who know me, you know I would actually be sneaking out the back door and running like crazy), Jesus is graciously teaching them.  Mark doesn't tell us what He's teaching, but he does record this crazy moment where four friends are carrying their paralyzed friend on a stretcher and are trying to get him to see Jesus so that he can be healed.  Of course, the crowd is dense and they can't get the stretcher anywhere near Him.

Momentary sidebar: if you know this story, you know what's about to happen.  They're literally going to rip a hole in the roof of this house so that they can lower their friend down in front of Jesus.  That being the case, why is every sermon on spiritual friendship on either David and Jonathan or Paul and Barnabas?  I'm not opposed to those guys, and I know we don't have much to go on with this fivesome, but seriously... tearing a hole in somebody's roof?  If I can ever be that kind of friend or have that kind of friend...

But I digress.

So they dig a hole in the roof.  You can picture Jesus sitting there teaching (Hebrew teachers almost always sat to teach, while their listeners stood, which would do wonders for people staying awake during sermons...), when suddenly, tiny pieces of hardened clay start to fall on His head.  Now, we always picture Jesus as this calm and cool dude, but 100% God and 100% man says to me that He looked up, saw the roof about to give way, and His eyes got all big and crazy as He stood up and ran backwards, pressing against the wall to get out of the way of falling shingles.  Maybe He narrowly missed a big piece of the ceiling hitting Him in the head--maybe they took out the front row.  Maybe there was screaming.  Maybe laughing.  We don't know, because Mark leaves out such details.  What we do know is that they lowered the paralyzed dude from the roof right in front of Jesus.

He had to be looking at Jesus with such hope!  Mark doesn't say if this man was paralyzed from birth or if he was the victim of some tragic camel accident--either way, things haven't been going too well for him.  Jesus is his hope!  Or maybe.  Mark records that it was actually the faith of the friends that Jesus took notice of, so it could be that this man had already given up hope.  Do you know anyone like that?  Things are so tough that even when a break seems to be coming their way, they assume it's going to fall through.  As far as they are concerned, all hope is gone.  Maybe he assumed the stretcher would slip and he would plummet to his death.  Maybe he figured Jesus was a fraud.  Whatever the case, he had given up hope.  Let me be frank--if you're a follower of Jesus and you don't have a friend like that, it's time to broaden your circle of friends!  There are thousands of people around us that have just that outlook on life.  This particular man was lucky enough to have four friends who seemed to have enough faith for him as well.  Maybe God's put you or I in the position to be that friend for someone else...

We can almost picture the stretcher settling on the floor in front of Jesus, and Jesus slowly relaxing His tense body and moving away from His position of pressed up against the back wall of the house.  He must have had a marveled look on His face as He surveyed the entire scene.  Then, of course, seeing their faith... He healed the man.  Right?  Nope.  That's not how the story reads.  He forgives his sins.  At that, Mark leaves everyone's reaction out except for the scribes.  I would have loved to know how the man reacted to that pronouncement, or how the four friends reacted, finding out that their time they are about to spend in jail for massive vandalism has only secured forgiveness for their still paralyzed friend.  However, we do know what the scribes said, or at least what they thought:

"Blasphemy!"

And, of course, as Jesus has the annoying habit of doing, He reads their minds.  This is why Matt Chandler, pastor of the Village Church in Texas, always says that if he was hanging out around Jesus he would just mentally recite Psalms over and over again: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want... Nope, not thinking anything bad, Jesus!  Just constant worship and prayer.  You know how it goes."  Count me in on that one.

Jesus confronts them on their unspoken thoughts, and asks the amazing question: "Which is easier?  To forgive sins, or to make this paralyzed dude walk?"  Commentators have tried to figure out the riddle, but this is one of those places that the plain reading of the text is the way to go: They're both impossible.  At least for you and I.    For Jesus, they're both simple--and incredibly costly.  Isaiah 53, which Jesus had likely memorized from a young age, tells us that it would be "by His stripes" we would be healed, and that "our sin would be upon Him."  Free to all, but very, very expensive to One.

Of course (spoiler alert!), He ultimately heals the man.  His expressed purpose is to show that He also has the power to forgive sins, but I'm sure there was some compassion there as well.  The man walks out.  The scribes are both amazed and somewhat incensed at His inference that He's, you know, God.  And unless there was a very understanding homeowner, four friends were carted off to jail.  Satisfied, I'm sure.  Those were some good friends.

But here's the thing that I've been meditating on: If we understand that Jesus can actually do this stuff, why doesn't it transform the way that we live?  If Jesus is able to speak both true forgiveness of sin and healing for all of our brokenness, why don't our lives look like it?  Sure, there are times when situations look bleak--but if we're assured of the love of Jesus toward us and His ability to do anything that He chooses to do, shouldn't we always have hope?  Or put another way: If we live as people without hope in a world full of people without hope, do we really have a message to give?  1 Peter 3:15 tells us that we should always be ready to give an answer for the hope that we have.  That Scripture gets quoted quite a bit.  Here's the part that doesn't get much attention: Peter is assuming the question!  We're to be ready to give an answer because our lives are going to beg the question!  How many times have you been asked about the hope that you have?  Ouch.

Dear readers, if you're not a believer in Jesus, let me apologize for the fact that we as Christians (and I as a Christian!) much more often generate strange looks than beg questioning about the hope that we have.  Please recognize that it's a reflection of our sinfulness and anemic faith, not the ability of our Savior.  For my Christian friends--would you join me in asking Jesus to give you real faith?  A recognition that He is the God of the impossible?  And then, step by step, according to His strength, actually live in light of that faith?

Here's to hoping that the questions will be coming.  And to knowing if they actually do, it's quite likely that we'll have the answer.

Good and Best

My life is completely full.  I realize that I'm not stating anything that isn't true for a vast majority of the world, but it's true.  Completely filled up.  Lots of people, lots of stuff, lots of responsibilities, lots of work.  Oh, and on a good week, at least a little bit of exercise.  Family.  Friends.  Church.  Neighbors.  Friends that are neighbors and go with us to church and hang out with our family.  Cooking.  Cleaning (at least now and then).  Homeschooling.  Well, homeschool gym class, and helping Amanda process the rest of homeschooling.  Writing is inconsistent because life is too full.  I can only remember one book that I read purely for fun in the last 10 years. (And I only chug through about 40-50 a year...)  I mean FULL, people!  And don't get me wrong--full of incredibly GOOD things.  I have an incredible wife, four terrific kids, I get to earn an income doing something I both love and am called to do, we have great friends, a wonderful house... it's all good.  And full.

As I write this, I know the exact same thing is true for many of you who will read this.  In fact, even more full for some.  My kids are still in the "chase them around and keep them out of trouble" age, which is not to be confused with the "drive them around in order to try to keep them out of trouble" teenage years or the "follow them around and bail them out of trouble" years that none of us hope for but lots live through.  I currently cannot imagine adding the chaos of four teenage schedules to our life, but it doesn't really take higher math to discover that it's coming, and it's not that far away.  So for those of you in that boat currently, I pray with you that the boat doesn't sink...

But here's the real question that I've been pondering on this very full day in the midst of a full week in the midst of what seems to be a full life: As my life fills up constantly to overflowing with lots of good stuff, am I somehow missing the best?  When God called me to Himself and transformed my heart and mind and outlook on the world around me, was this what He had in mind?  I've been studying the gospel of Mark, and have again and again just been wrecked by how much of the life of Jesus is almost nowhere to be found in me.  The things He was most passionate about I seem to have very little, if any, connection with.  The activities that filled His life look an awful lot different than the activities that fill my life.  He reacts to people (and their annoying habit of interrupting everything that seems important at any given moment) dramatically differently than I do.  I see all of that, and I wonder... have I been so filled up with the good that I missed the best?

I'm old enough to remember the Atari 2600.  Old school video games with joysticks and the ridiculous paddle wheels that got all jumpy after about 10 minutes of use and could no longer stay steady enough to hit the ball on "SuperBreakout" when the ball started moving really fast.  I had one of the early versions: a large machine in black plastic and brown wood grain, with these shiny levers that could be depressed and then would spring back up to the top of their slot.  I can see it in my mind so clearly: the "reset" button.  When things didn't work right, when Pitfall Harry died before his time, when the space aliens landed on the ground with loud, robotic "UH"--you just hit "reset" and started over.

What would it look like to gather my wife and family around me and in one quick motion, hit reset?  Cancel it all and start over.  Of course, there are many reasons that would be an absolutely terrible idea.  But in some ways... However, life can't be reset.  That said, the out of control feeling that most of us constantly live with in our very "full of good stuff" lives--it's actually an illusion.  We do have a choice.  We don't have to do what we've always done just because we've always done it.  We're allowed to stop.  Of course, there are consequences.  But I wonder if those consequences are terribly worse than the slow decay of our souls when that hole that was intended for "best" is systematically stuffed full of the "good" and we feel the constant, nagging reality that all of this "good" will never satisfy us.

I was studying Mark 1 today.  Jesus was given a call at baptism in the form of the Father's declaration of His identity.  That identity was tested in the wilderness.  When He emerged, He declared the outworking of that call--the Kingdom of God was at hand, and everyone everywhere should repent and believe the Good News of the gospel.  He went to the synagogue to teach, and suddenly there's this demon possessed dude in front of Him.  He casts out the demon, the man is healed, and chaos ensues.  Suddenly, everyone needs to be healed.  So He does.  One after another, from sundown until late into the night.  The next morning, He rises early, likely still full of the "good" from the day before.  He meets with the Father.  The expectation and even pressure is clearly to continue meeting the needs of the sick and the broken--we hear as much in Peter's frantic call to Jesus when they finally find Him.  But Jesus says "no, thanks."  Healing is good.  But that's not why I came.  It's not the best.  I must get back to doing the best.  And, despite everyone's expectations, despite what was clearly common sense, despite every outward indication of success, He rejects the good and embraces the best.

There's nothing that says you and I can't do that.  We just have to have the courage.

Sex, Dating and Relationships by- Gerald Hiestand and Jay Thomas

As a pastor, one of the things that I think is most important about any church is that it's a safe place to ask questions, express doubt, and test belief.  Specifically, it's important to see that the Bible doesn't back away from challenges and questions, but speaks boldly to a variety of different topics.  Likely each of us can remember hearing some variation of: "Why? Because I said so, that's why!" as children, and we would all probably admit that a response like that didn't inspire confidence or motivation for the requested behavior.  We often obeyed, but only because of duty or fear of punishment.

Sadly, many Christians see God as a "Because I said so!" kind of deity.  Over years, we've trained people not to ask questions, not to probe for deeper understanding, not to challenge traditional ways of thinking, etc.  Of course, with that kind of a church environment, is it any wonder that so many of us follow Jesus because of duty or fear of punishment!  However, even a cursory study of the Word would show that God has called us to Himself primarily for His glory; therefore, our begrudging submission is the last thing that He desires, because it in no way brings Him glory.  He's called us--wired us, in fact--to find the greatest possible joy in following and pursuing Him, and that's what should be the driver of our pursuit!

All that to say that this past spring I had the thought that we should all as a congregation ask questions about God and faith, and then take the summer to investigate what God had to say about those things.  It was a brilliant summer series in that each message was effectively "stand-alone", so vacations, guest speakers, etc. didn't interrupt the flow.  However, here's where it wasn't quite so brilliant: I hadn't thought about the amount of research and study that would go into such a series.  Whew!  Tons of new books read and digested in record time...

One of the questions asked was in regards to whether premarital sex was truly a sin biblically, and the corollary question "how far is too far?"  I found the new book Sex, Dating and Relationships to be a clear, concise, thoroughly biblical and refreshing treatment on the subject.  The authors base their study and position not simply on the moral code, but on the typology that's present throughout the Scriptures which ties the husband/wife relationship to the relationship of Christ and the Church.  With this parallel clearly in mind, the purpose and use of sexuality is no longer simply about following rules, but rather, it's a direct statement of worship and understanding of the nature and character of God Himself.

The authors make the case that God has instituted three categories of relational interaction: family, neighbor, and spouse.  The obvious exclusion from these categories is the "dating" relationship category--they state quite effectively that the process leading up to marriage is really a specific category of the neighbor relationship, not a unique category itself.  From the perspective of sexuality, this is a revolutionary idea: family and neighbor both preclude sexuality, while the spousal relationship obviously requires it.  Therefore, the basis on which we operate "pre-marriage" is within the neighbor category.  Simply put: any thing a young man wouldn't do with his sister, he shouldn't be doing with his girlfriend!

Obviously, this is a hugely counter-cultural position, and one that very few will take seriously in practice.  However, one of the great strengths of the book is the critique the authors give of the lack of true commitment outside of the covenant of marriage within so-called "exclusive" relationships, where unhealthy sexual activity is most often found.  They rightly state that an "exclusive dating relationship" is only as committed as each of the parties is to that relationship, and the fact that it can be ended immediately based on the desire of one or the other, with no mutual consent or process (read: the definition of a teenage break-up) means that there is no possibility of true commitment in that relationship prior to engagement and marriage.  As opposed to the traditional model of dating, they build the case for "dating friendships" that explore romantic relationships within the context of healthy community, and then when a decision for marriage is made, the couple moves directly towards that covenant with only a very short engagement period.

There's much more to the book, but it's a very important addition to this very important discussion, and I highly recommend it.  I think older teens and beyond will find it readable, although a bit challenging at times.  However, it should be required reading for every youth pastor and youth leader who are engaging these conversations with students.  I wish it had been in my library a decade ago.

Your Church is Too Safe, by- Mark Buchanan

Full disclosure: I'm completely in the tank for Mark Buchanan.  I think he's an incredible writer, a great pastor, and his books have been incredibly helpful to me.  Therefore, when I had the opportunity to read and review his latest book, Your Church is Too Safe, I jumped at the chance.  The title is clearly a play on his former book Your God is Too Safe, which is a book about venturing into the depths of our relationship with God through the practice of some of the classic spiritual disciplines.  Great book which I highly recommend.

His latest book is directed more to the pastor or church leader, rather than the everyday guy or girl.  That said, I'm not sure that it wouldn't be accessible to just about anyone.  While he's addressing the church as a broad organization, much of the most poignant and challenging material in the book is just as applicable to anyone who seeks to authentically follow Jesus.

First: the good.  Buchanan is an incredible teacher/storyteller, and his illustrations and stories are woven into his points so seamlessly and naturally that reading it never feels like an effort.  From a content standpoint, he's extremely effective at helping us to recognize where we tend to settle for "safe instead of dangerous, nice instead of holy, cautious instead of bold, [and] self-absorbed instead of counting everything loss in order to be found in Christ."  Buchanan is at his best when he challenges the most sensitive areas of our discipleship, at points challenging us to even question whether we are disciples at all.  He pushes us to not just believe, but to act like Jesus: in the way we spend, the way we give, the way we love, the way we serve, the way we engage the community around us (both inside and outside the church), the way we evangelize--literally, just about every aspect of what it means to be the church.  He pushes all the right buttons and challenges us to look deep inside of ourselves, and at the heart of our churches.

That said (you knew it was coming!), I wasn't as impressed as I expected to be.  When I opened my Kindle copy of the book, there was a review from some lady named Nancy Beach.  I have no idea who she is, and I've never heard of the book that she's credited with writing.  I'm sure she's a wonderful woman, and I think it's quite likely that she even read the book before she wrote her review of it.  She says this: "Don't read this book without preparing to be disturbed in all the right ways... Mark Buchanan calls us out of our safe zones of comfort to a vision that is transformational--and somewhat terrifying.  It's the only kind of church that can change the world."  That was my introduction to this book.  So, maybe my expectations were set a bit too high.  It's a good book.  It challenges us, and OK, at times maybe even disturbs us, in some good ways.  However, I wouldn't say that it calls us to a terrifyingly transformational vision.  And in all fairness, Buchanan himself might not say that it does--I didn't take the time to call him for comment.  It pushes the North American church in some areas in which we need to be pushed.  But generally, he does what a good pastor should do--he calls us back to what it means to act like Jesus.  For some churches, that may be terrifyingly transformational.  For most of us, it's just difficult.  Buchanan pushes on that part of us that longs to settle comfortably in this world, living by the values of this culture, enjoying our religion like we might enjoy a strong cup of coffee.  He pushes on us and reminds us that we're not made for this world.  That we aren't supposed to live like we belong here.  He reminds us that we're supposed to be different, and then he uses his incredible gifting as a story-teller to both re-tell us the Story itself, as well as telling little vignettes from his experiences along the way.

A classic example: if you search for reviews on this book, the vast majority of them will cite the chapter that Buchanan opens by telling the story of a lesbian couple who attend his church.  it makes for good "shock and awe" in the book review, but it's really not that kind of a story.  He simply talks about the church learning to truly love and engage these two wonderful women with the love of Jesus, while not sacrificing the truth of the Word along the way.  Exactly right.  I took no exception to the way that he unpacked his church's reaction to the situation, and I believe that by and large, his church acted like hands and feet of Jesus, as we all are intended to be as the church.  But that was just it: it didn't seem that profound.  Are there lots of churches that wouldn't have responded with such a healthy balance of grace and truth?  I'm sure.  And maybe I'm crazy to think that our church would have--but I truly believe we would.  They responded the right way.  I would hope that we would have too.  Good point, well said, but nothing terrifyingly transformational there.

Your Church is Too Safe is a good, helpful book.  It stands in a line with a good number of books that have come out in the last few years that challenge the often apathetic, consumeristic, self-focused North American church to stop being apathetic, consumeristic and self-focused.  And don't get me wrong--it's a message that's desperately needed!  And Buchanan does it quite well: in my opinion not quite as effectively as David Platt's Radical, but more effectively than Kyle Idleman's Not a Fan.  I won't take the time to list the dozens of other books in this sub-genre or to rank them, but trust me, they're out there, and if you search hard enough, I'm sure someone already has.  Maybe I'm crazy to think that pastors and leaders and churches should already know this stuff.  Maybe it's more profound that I give it credit for.  If so, then please--run out and get a copy immediately, buy one for everyone on your church leadership team, and don't sleep until all of you have read it all the way through at least three times.

But if not, it's still a good and necessary kick in the pants.  And if we're going to be honest, we all really need one of those now and then.

Best Intentions

So, it would only take a not so in-depth review of this blog to recognize that I haven't been posting as regularly as I'd like.  For the two or three of you that might look at this once a month or so, I'm sorry that's you haven't seen anything for the last 4-6 times you've checked!

I truly did intend to use this as an opportunity to post stories about some of the wonderful people that my family and I have had the privilege of being connected with.  However, I started to think about things like privacy and permission and that sort of thing, and all of a sudden it got a bit more complicated...  I then intended to post another "new direction" to re-direct the old "new direction," but it was then that I realized that I didn't yet have a new direction.  So, again, no post.  Then summer came.  We remodeled the basement.  I put the world's tiniest office into our old laundry room.  I celebrated having my very own 4' x 6' space stuffed full of books.  Still no post.  I began to work out some details to potentially publish the book that I had written this past spring on the values of our church.  That took at least an hour or two.  Still no post.  I began to study and then to write the new study guide on the gospel of Mark.  We finished painting and decorating the basement and preparing it for the adventure of homeschooling.  Still no post.  Then the school year actually started.  Things went from busy to... busier.  STILL no post.

So, dear friends, I'm going to try again.  Fair warning--I've failed often enough that you have absolutely no reason to trust me.  I've been reading a bunch, so I'm going to post a few book reviews, as I've already done a few times on this site.  I'll also try to at least give a weekly thought about... something.  If no one cares, I'll completely forgive you for that.  But it would be good discipline, as it appears that I'm lacking in that as it comes to writing these days.

Here goes nothing...

Connecting Generations

I mentioned last week that I was writing for another blog--that blog is published by the Joel Comiskey Group, which is a global cell church ministry resource.  For the month of May, they are focusing on children and youth in cells, and Joel asked me to write about our experiences with intergenerational cell groups, which we call LIFE groups.  I figured that at least this first one might be of interest here as well, since it falls in line with the "story" theme--just not as personal as some future ones might be!

What does it mean to have an “intergenerational” model of ministry?  At our church in York, PA, we’ve been pursuing an answer to that question for nearly fifteen years.  Like all people everywhere, we tend to gravitate toward others that are most like us.  Teens with other teens.  Young married couples with other young married couples.  Retirees with other retirees.  Left-handed slow pitch softball players with other left-handed slow pitch softball players.  Mixing things up never happens naturally.

However, we noticed a problem.  The young married couples had questions and problems that were very typical for young married couples: How do I decide on a house to buy?  When should we start trying to have a family?  When am I old enough to start playing slow pitch softball?  And so, they asked others in their community.  Predictably, they had no good answers.  So, they pooled their ignorance and made the best decisions they could.  Meanwhile, as the group of retirees connected with one another, they discovered that while they had a lot of answers, none of them really had any questions.  What was more, when they simply talked to one another and compared aches and pains and the current ailment of the day, they found that they didn’t have the energy to even ask questions.  Or, for that matter, to play slow pitch softball.

When we made the initial transition from a program-based church to a cell church, we made the determination that our cells would be intergenerational.  I’d love to say that it was a wise, well-thought out decision with deep theological grounding, and it’s not that theology wasn’t considered.  However, we had a bunch of kids and we needed to do something with them.  Intergeneration cells answered the question; and in the past fifteen years, we’ve seen an incredible blessing for our children (more on that next week).  But we quickly discovered that intergenerational cells were not simply a strategy to care for children!  With an intentionally integrated community, young adults had older men and women speaking wisdom into their lives.  Children suddenly had multiple adopted grandparents who loved and cared for them.  The energy of young lives was somehow infused into an older generation.  Teens were no longer simply being mentored by a youth sponsor; they were being invested in by an entire family.  Single men had a family to eat dinner with; widows had companionship; empty-nesters had children running through their living rooms again, which they could send back to their homes when they were ready to enjoy their hard-earned peace and quiet.  And there were great crowds at the slow-pitch softball games.

I’d love to say that once established, maintaining intergenerationality was a breeze, but I’d be lying.  Groups would grow and multiply, and the multiplications looked as though they were divided by age.  Every young adult that walked through the doors of the church would end up in the same group, until there was a five year spread from the oldest to youngest.  But then, a fascinating thing happened: the older groups started asking younger families to join them.  Young groups began recognizing the need for an older generation to speak into their lives.  Slowly, the values changed.  It’s still work, but we all recognize the value of the work.

What’s your story? 

A New Direction

So, if you're following along, you recognize that I once again hoped to write "now and then" when I got back from a trip.  Then, I came home.  Four kids.  My wonderful wife.  A house.  A church full of people that I love and care for.  Preaching deadlines.  Writing deadlines.  And, of course, no more blogs.  That seems to be the story of these things.  In my defense, I've just finished a book that we're using for the current sermon series and will be using in the future as a part of our discipleship track.  Not sure that it's online yet, but soon you'll be able to find a copy of it here.  I also have another blog that I'm writing for, and a deadline for that.

But honestly, travel just seems far more exciting than normal life.  I think about posting, but I'm not sure what to write.  Who wants to know about my day full of meetings, or the trials of moving four kids in any one direction?   I'd do a play by play of the Little League game I'm coaching, but how many times can I write: "Ball Four.  Another walk."  Soon or later it will get old.  We're getting the basement water-proofed as we speak, and while we're genuinely excited by the prospect of usable space downstairs, it doesn't necessarily make for scintillating reading.  More laundry.  More dishes.  Laughter.  Some tears.  Joy.  Boredom, at times, although they seem to be precious few.  We live normal lives, for the most part.  At least, as normal as a pastor married to a part-time dance instructor, part-time horse rider/trainer with four kids eleven and under can be.

So, with some encouragement by my aforementioned wife, I'm going to take this blog a different direction.

Our lives are normal.  The lives of those around us are normal.  But in the midst of all that "normalness" (which I just knew spell check would have an issue with!), there are moments of extraordinary.  Bits of beauty in the midst of the mundane, if you will.  Now and then, those things might happen in our lives.  However, most often, it's in the lives of those around us--those who are a part of this incredible community in York that has become like a family away from home for us.

Someone should tell those stories.  I think about that all of the time as I talk with the people that cross my path each day.  Incredible stories.  Fascinating pieces of grace.  Someone should tell these stories.  And so, I guess I will.  I won't make promises on how often, or how long, or how many--but I'll try.  I'll do my best to honor my friends by telling their stories with grace.  Of course, I'll only tell stories with permission, and when necessary, I'll change names to protect the innocent and the guilty.  However, finally, the stories can be told.  And if anyone's interested, I suppose I'll tell some more.  There's certainly a lot of us out here in York, and that means lots of stories to tell.

Stuff

Coming back to the U.S. from most anywhere else in the world can be a bit disorienting. I don’t mean that to be either good or bad—I’m simply stating the fact that it is. I’ve traveled a significant amount in Central America, particularly to connect with our friends in El Salvador, and in recent years through several locations in Europe and now Africa. Everywhere that I’ve been has had its own set of positives and negatives, but the largest negative for me is always that Amanda and the kids aren’t able to be there with me, so as each trip is wrapping up, I’m quite ready to be heading home.

Upon arrival, the chorus of comments always begins. The comments could be brought on by most anything—a description of a person or event, a photograph, a souvenir, or sometimes just the simple mention of the country name. They are most often stated in question form, although the questioner most always understands the question to be a rhetorical one:

“Doesn’t being there make you thankful to live in the United States?”

I never know quite how to answer. I think that’s likely because I don’t know exactly what’s meant by the question itself. Is the questioner asking whether I’m thankful to be in a place where the vast majority of people put trash in actual trash receptacles? Call me shallow, but I am. Are they asking whether I’m thankful to live somewhere that law is enforced and rights, for the most part at least, are upheld? I certainly am. Are they asking about living in a country where people, regardless of background or socio-economic status, can realistically dream of making an impact on the world around them? It’s an incredible blessing. Are they wondering whether I’m thankful to live in a place where my Evangelical Christian faith can co-exist with my Roman Catholic neighbors to the left, my Buddhist neighbors to the right, my Muslim neighbors across the street, and my Mormon neighbors across the next street? Are they asking whether I’m thankful that they can share their faith with me, just as I can with them, and we have no fear of violent response or governmental intervention? For these things and more, I am indeed truly thankful.

However, although I’d love to give the benefit of the doubt, I’m not sure that’s what most mean by their question. The other side of the question makes for a more difficult response. Am I thankful for the luxuries that can be ours for the right price, and the massive debt that most carry in order to accommodate them? Am I thankful for having so much more than I could possibly need in every area that I can think of, while others around the world struggle to simply have the basics? Am I thankful for a country full of high-level, white collar executives and professionals who either choose to or are asked to work so many hours that both their families and their health are stretched to the limit, if they haven’t already broken? Am I thankful for discount stores full of cheap products at incredible prices, often produced through questionable practices, which encourage me to get more of what I already have and still don’t need? Am I thankful for a plethora of recreational activities that fill our schedules so that nearly every spare moment is planned and the running never stops? Those questions, and others like them, are much more difficult to answer. There are great blessings embedded in each of these statements, and I don’t want to reject the positive aspects of them. But as Derek Webb wondered aloud on his album Stockholm Syndrome: “It seems it’s never quite worth what you give up to get it.”

This is a great country, full of beauty both externally and within its people. We are blessed beyond measure, and beyond our ability to comprehend and respond to in appropriate thankfulness. However, unless we take great care, our worship zips right past the Blessor to the blessings themselves, which according to Paul in Romans 1, is the very definition of idolatry. Even when our stuff remains in its proper place—when we recognize it for the “stuff” that it is—it still has an incredible ability to distract. In much of the world, the lives of those who follow Jesus are simple, and His joy exudes from them. For us, our faith may be simple, but our lives are so complex that our simple faith is rarely seen—not by us, and certainly not by the world around us.

So I’m a bit disoriented. I’ve returned to my home and my office and my life, and they are all filled with stuff. Good stuff, at least for the most part. Necessary stuff, most from our culture would say. And I don’t despise that stuff, or wish it away—I truly don’t. I seek to be thankful for all that I have, and to steward it well. But I can’t help but think of my brothers and sisters around the world who live much more simply, and on the surface at least, often much more joyfully and with greater generosity. I can’t help but think of the One I call Lord—the homeless carpenter turned preacher, who couldn’t have owned more than He could carry. And then I wonder where the line is.

I don’t know the answer. Which makes me even more thankful that I know the Answer.

Bright Shiny Objects

Shiny steel. Cleanliness. Order. Predictability. A little friendliness and basic courtesy. These are small things. However, they seem to be all I need to feel secure. The reality is that my citizenship gains me no more rights in Frankfurt, Germany than it does in Libreville, Gabon. But my heart, my spirit, my senses... they all respond as though there's a different reality.

Citizenship itself is still but a shallow and temporary security. Real security is found in another citizenship; not of the republic indivisible, but of the Kingdom invisible. I am never without this security, always completely held tight as the guarded and treasured property of the One and only Almighty. Yet, my heart rejoices in a cheap substitute. Just being honest.

Shiny steel. Cleanliness. Order. Predictability. A little friendliness and basic courtesy. Is that really all I need? Or is there something more?

"He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep
in order to gain what he cannot lose."
Jim Elliott

Reunited and It Feels So Good...

It was almost two weeks ago that a team of eight of us gathered at the York Alliance Church Fellowship Hall to weigh luggage and make final preparations. "Team Simms" (Dan and Nathan) headed to Dulles, while the remaining six of us took off for Newark. We arrived about a day apart in Libreville, and the roller coaster began. We've experienced: displays of deep joy, heroism, the sovereignty of God, steps of faith, unusual bravery, the reality of the church, real worship, rest, celebration, and today, the renewal of community.

Steve left as the rest of us were getting out of bed, in order to make the 90 minute flight to Bongolo to retrieve our team. The rest of us had breakfast and caught up on some details as we waited. Dan was a bit sick, so he moved in and out of bed through the morning, trying to get enough strength to push through the day. Around 1:00pm or so, we heard the familiar pair of double beeps from the horn of the truck, and we quickly went out to greet the returning dental team!

If you've never taken a short-term mission trip, something happens within the team during the time spent together. In their recent book "The Faith of Leap," Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch describe the need for communitas versus simply community. The difference is essentially one of purpose: community for it's own sake is OK, but a community that serves together, risks together, and works together is far better. At York Alliance, we often say it this way: We don't have the mission of community, but rather, we're called to be a community on mission! As a team (community) serves together, they grow closer more rapidly and the relationships reach new depths. This rag-tag bunch had served together in various ways for a few weeks, through some challenging ordeals, and our hearts had been knit together. So when the dental half of our team returned, it was like getting part of our family back.

We spent the day debriefing in various ways: talking and laughing over lunch, playing at the beach and catching up on stories, a bit more formally reporting about the two major aspects of our trip (EG and the dental work), sharing some laughs around an enormous round table at a local Chinese restaurant, and finally, by looking at just about every single picture that every single one of us had taken during the last two weeks on the Straws living room television set. We told more stories, we remembered, we encouraged, and at one point, we laughed for nearly five minutes straight... It was a joyous reunion.

Tomorrow we'll get some souvenirs, do some packing, connect with our friends at the health clinic for lunch, and then hop on a plane to make the long journey home. We'll reconnect with family and friends that we've missed so much, we'll process all that we've seen and heard, and we'll try to get back into the swing of normal life. But just as is true for every event like this, we'll go back a little different. That's what God does; when we encounter Him, we're always changed.

But here's the thing we so often miss: it doesn't take a trip to Africa to change! Communitas will change us right where we are, as long as we're willing to commit to it. It can be difficult, it is most certainly inconvenient, and there will be more than the average amount of frustration along the way. However, like rocks in a rock tumbler, all of that "friction" does it's work. The rocks bounce around the cylinder, hitting one another as well as the sand and other elements that provide friction. As they do, the stones slowly change from dull and rough to smooth and brilliant. However, if there was no friction, there would be no shine. If there were no movement, then no polish. But living in fellowship with others (friction) for a common purpose (movement) smooths our rough edges and brings out our deepest and richest colors.

I'm looking forward to going home. I can't wait to see my wife and my kids. I'm looking forward to wearing a coat, although I hear I might be too late for that... I have a wonderful job, and I'm looking forward to doing it. The community of faith at York Alliance is an incredible blessing to me, and I can't wait to be back with them. And I'm looking forward to communitas. We have a small group of friends that are intentionally connecting to one another in specific ways during this Lenten season, so that we can be a blessing in the world and can help each other become more like Jesus. They are folks that I can truly share my life with, and them with me. As we do, it will be a daily reminder that transformed lives are not just found across the ocean, but if we're willing, they're here at home as well.

A Real Celebration

Our trip is beginning to wind down, and as it does, our days are slowing a bit and it's no longer necessary for us to try to squeeze so much into every moment. The result is many moments to enjoy throughout the day, and we're able to be fully "in" each moment as it happens... Sounds like it may be a better way to live all of life!

The big project for today was a washing and fueling of Steve's airplane for his trip to Bongolo tomorrow to pick up the dental team. Of course, that needed to include a 30 minute "maintenance" flight, just be sure everything was working correctly! After scrubbing every inch of the plane and helping Steve hand pump lots of fuel into the tanks, the six of us piled into the plane with excitement. A few very official sounding conversations and approvals over the headset to the Libreville tower, and we were off!

We fly up the coast, spanning basically the entire length of Libreville, and for the first time we were able to get an appreciation for the size of this city. We've seen the story of the city told in faces and in homes and in stores and in families—now we were able to see that each of those stories could be multiplied by literally hundreds of thousands all across the city.

The flight was about 30 minutes of great fun as we got to see Steve totally in his element, as well as see the city from above. After a perfect landing, we shut everything down and grabbed a quick lunch.

I had been thinking about how to make Tia’s birthday a special one for her. Of course, it’s incredible to be on this trip, but her birthday itself was a 16 hour car ride during which she only got to pee once, and that’s no one’s idea of a good time, no matter what country you’re in! We decided what would be a ton of fun would be to share Tia’s birthday celebration with the kids from the Hope House.

Adoptions are very rare and somewhat complicated in Gabon, so “orphans” rarely find homes within traditional families. Even the term “orphan” itself is complex here—sometimes these are children without parents, but often, they are simply kids whose parents didn’t want them or else felt they couldn’t afford them. The most heartbreaking stories (among many heartbreaking stories) are when moms and/or dads decide that they’ll keep 2 or 3 children, but choose to send 1 or 2 others away.

The “Hope House” is a home that was started by a Libreville pastor and his wife (Pastor Israel and Mama Natalie) in order to care for these children. They began by simply taking a few children into their home and caring for them. “A few” soon became a relative term—they now have 46 children ranging from age 3 to 18 living with them. They live simply, they work together in order to survive, but unlike many orphans, they are able to actually have a childhood. Each one of them is a child that in some way has felt the loss of a family—but through the Hope House, they now have a family. A big one.

So we loaded up with 14 liters of ice cream, plastic containers and spoons, and headed out to the Hope House. Normally when we arrive, they are running around the property and it’s a bit chaotic. This time as we pulled in, it was quiet—almost like no one was there. However, as we looked in the large front door, we saw them all sitting at desks, waiting… We came in, and no one moved except for Tia’s 3 year old friend Glorie, who couldn’t help but run over to Tia and jump into her arms. Clearly these were children that had been prepped and were on their best behavior so as not to forfeit a rare treat!

Basic food can sometimes be difficult to come by at the Hope House. While a few local churches work with Pastor Israel and Mama Natalie to help staff the kitchen and provide basic foods, 50 mouths are a lot to feed. Fruits and vegetables are extremely expensive in Gabon, so those are almost nonexistent at the Hope House. They get rice, a bit of meat, yogurt, and few other inexpensive foods. While they rarely go hungry, it’s not an exciting or balanced diet. All that said, sweets and party foods are extremely rare at the Hope House, and none of them were about to forfeit their ice cream because of bad behavior!

I could tell you so much more about all that happened there—every time we are with them, there are incredible blessings for us. Pastor Mario and I scooped ice cream into dishes, being sure that everyone got some. Older kids handed it out, beginning with the youngest kids all the way through the adults before taking their own. We all ate together, and Pastor Steve reminded them that Dr. Paul had given them each a toothbrush and toothpaste, and they were supposed to brush their teeth when they were finished!

After we had cleaned up quickly, they wanted to sing for Tia’s birthday. And sing they did, four different songs, including Happy Birthday in English! After the singing, a joyous dance party broke out, and we were treated to some incredible choreography! It was truly a birthday party to remember.

As they sang and danced, I watched the faces of the Hope House children. In many ways, according to every both tangible and intangible standard given by the world around them, they have nothing. But when I look closely at their eyes, I see something remarkable.

It seems that in every way that really matters, they actually have everything.

Kairos vs. Chronos

Aaaahhhh……

That was how today felt. After some stress-filled and very busy days, we relaxed a bit today. We got up late, had a nice mid-morning breakfast, caught up on some emails and blog posts, and just relaxed. Our only real commitment was a 2:00pm meeting at the Gabonese National Office for the Christian & Missionary Alliance, and we made the most of the rest of the day.

Time is a funny thing. The last several days have been so incredibly packed full that even the 16-hour car rides seemed to fly by. When things are busy, time hurdles along like a runaway train (or a Gabonese bus driver). But when life slows down, time seems to do the same thing. The morning seemed to open up before us, and suddenly there was time: to read, to eat, to talk, to get a few things done… and to rest. So we did.

We arrived to the National Offices a little after 2:00, and had a grand reunion with Pastor Guy Roget. After joyful greetings all around and a brief tour, we headed into a conference room, and were soon joined by several other members of the National Office staff. I won’t bore you with the details of our hour long meeting, but it was very good and gave us a great path to walk on as we dream about our future connection with the Gabonese church in Equatorial Guinea.

The key thing that we found out at the meeting is that the Gabonese church is much further down the path than we are when it comes to the work in EG. The way Steve put it as he translated my words to the National Office team is that if the work in EG is like a book, they are on chapter 3 or 4, and we’re just a few paragraphs into the Introduction. While I assured them that we are fast readers, it will still take us a little while to catch up. They understood this reality, and are charging forward on their own, while we determine exactly what our role in EG will look like.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that I realized God’s incredible timing. We had initially scheduled this trip in the fall of 2010. In fact, a significant amount of planning had happened and we were just about to buy tickets when we found out that the missionary couple that we would be working with had some difficulties and the trip couldn’t happen. At that moment, we were so discouraged and disappointed that the trip couldn’t go forward. However, had that trip happened, we would have been on exactly the same chapter in the metaphorical book—and based on the way our two cultures operate, it’s likely that we would have already read a few pages ahead! Based on what we know now about the work in EG and the need for Gabonese church to take the lead in this initiative, that would have been disastrous. But with this timing, everything is exactly right, and we all walked out of the conference room greatly encouraged.

We walked of the room and immediately turned to our left, into the “Chapel of Prayer for the Nations” so that we could dedicate this work to the Lord in prayer as a group. As we did, thunder was beginning to rumble in the distance, and the sky was quickly darkening. We stood in that chapel, held hands in a circle, and began to lift our voices to God, all at the same time. Our voices died down, and after a brief song, one of the National Office leaders began to pray. Almost as soon as he started to pray, the rain started. It was only a little at first. But as his voice picked up in intensity, almost as if choreographed, the rain did as well. The storm rolled in with power, and soon, the National Secretary was shouting his prayer over the thunder and the pounding rain on the metal roof. He declared “Amen” and we all began to sing “Hallelujah.” And as we did, it was as though God Himself was declaring “YES! I’m for this!”, with the mighty voice of the storm thundering over our loudest singing. Once again, perfect timing.

One of the things that we lose in our English translations of the Bible is that there are two different Greek words for “time.” Chronos time is clock time. It’s the normal way that we see time. It’s objective. It’s predictable. It’s minutes, hours, days, schedules, and agendas. On the other hand, Kairos time is totally different. Kairos is the “right” time. The “opportune” time. As our great friends Todd and Belinda often remind us, kairos time is God’s time.

Today, we operated in kairos time. The rest we got, the discussions we had, the incredible African thunderstorm we witnessed… all of them hit at just the right time. However, what we hadn’t realized is that every detail of this project has been caught up in kairos time. The delay of 18 months ago. Postponing the trip for two days due to visa issues. The connections with Pastor Frederico’s church. The events of today. Each one at just the right time.

Now, we must walk forward in the same way. Not rushing ahead, not lagging behind, but waiting on God. His kairos time is perfect.

Worship

What is worship? One of our “family values” at York Alliance is “a lifestyle of worship.” Worship is not limited to singing, praying, declaring, creating, dancing, or any specific activity, but it is the way that we live our everyday lives. Of course, our lives are certainly to be punctuated with the activities above as a specific offering to God, but worship must never be limited to those things alone.

Simply: Worship is connecting all of God to all of our life.

On Monday morning well before dawn, the Nissan Patrol was loaded up with luggage and our growing team, which was now up to eight with the news that Pastor Simone would be making the 16-18 hour trek back to Libreville with us. We squeezed in (which is not ideal for a 16 hour drive, but hey, what can you do…) and took off, praying for smooth passage through the controls in EG and at the border. Worship in the form of dependence on and supplication to a sovereign God.

At the first several controls we were waved through, and each time, there was much rejoicing among our ragtag group of eight. The early morning discussion was a mix of English, French, Spanish, and some “Fang” lessons, not one of which was understood by everyone in the car. Regardless of the language, there were at least a few who were totally in the dark. We chugged along, making great time, until what turned out to be the final control before the border, about 40 kilometers from Mongomo, where we would cross. The control guard took passports, made some comments in Spanish about how the Gabonese were bad people, and we knew that we could have some problems. We pulled off to the side to wait.

And wait we did. In about 10 minutes, Pastor Guy Roget, the lone Gabonese citizen, was called for. The rest of us waited. They talked; at times with much animation. We waited; at times with much animation. And waited. And waited. We watched some pigs eat road kill. We said hello to children walking to school. We talked and laughed and even sang “happy birthday” to Tia a few times. And we waited.

After an hour just about to the minute, Pastors Simone and Guy Roget walked back to the vehicle, documents in hand. “Adios—gratis!” said Pastor Simone. Goodbye…it was free! We quickly loaded them up, pulled away, and headed toward the border. Amazingly, while the border took some time, it was much quicker than anticipated and easier than we could have hoped. As we passed through the final stage, Gabonese customs, with no issues at all, the car visibly responded to the goodness and grace of God. There was much joking, laughter, and relief, even if no one fully understood everything that everyone else was saying. Worship in the form of lives lived in thankfulness.

Of course, while the controls were no longer a problem (the l’Hopital Bongolo car magnet did its magic at each and every control stop in Gabon), there was still an 8-10 hour drive in a Nissan Patrol with eight people. Our brief bathroom stops were cherished by all as an opportunity to stretch legs and move freely, but then we quickly reloaded and continued. I should clarify a “bathroom stop”: apart from a pastor’s house in Oyem that we stopped at so that Tia could use an actual toilet, when I say bathroom stop I’m meaning some bushes on the side of the road. You know what they say: when in Rome…

The drive wore on. Incredibly, however, there was no bickering or short tempers, and very little complaining, even with a now eleven year old and fourteen year old in the car. There was laughter, prayer, more Fang lessons, and long periods of silence. We moved from seat to seat at each stop so that legs could be cramped into different positions and different bones and muscles could take their turn being sore and cramping up. When we reached “cities” we gassed the Nissan, bought more water and snacks, and rejoiced at the opportunity to stand upright. And we laughed… a lot. Worship in the form of relationships in the body of Christ.

The sunset was gorgeous to our left as we made the final turn north toward Libreville. (Yes, if you’re looking at a map, we had to go south to go north. Africa is a classic example of “you can’t get there from here…”) As the darkness descended, our talking quieted down a bit. Now almost 14 hours into the drive, we were ready to arrive, and driving Gabonese roads after dark can be a frustrating and car-damaging experience.

In the silence, Dan pulled out his harmonica and began to play. Thankfully, he’s good at it, or the harmonious relationships in the car could have been put to the test! He began to play some old hymns, and we started to sing. Spanish first, the English, then Fang, and finally French was layered on top. We sang “How Great Thou Art” loudly in four different languages. We rotated verses on “Holy, Holy, Holy.” We taught one another simple songs in our native languages. We sang a simple African song in a dozen different tribal languages. When there were a few moments of silence, another one would start a different song in their own language, and the rest would hum along. Pastor Simone supplied the rich harmonies and Pastor Guy Roget the bass line, making every song, regardless of language, sound like a traditional African tune. After each song, when the final line was repeated at full volume and then faded out as best we could with our voices, soft “Amens” were spoken. And after a moment or two of reflection on what had been sung, the next song would begin.

Worship as intercession early in the morning gave way to worship as thanksgiving around noon, which gave way to worship as community throughout the day. Out of the community, the songs of the church emerged. They weren’t forced. They weren’t programmed. They weren’t performed. They were embodied by people in love with and dependent on a loving, merciful, and all-powerful God.

That is worship.

The Church

Our team with Pastor Frederico and some of his family

“You cannot care for Me, with no regard for her / If you love Me, you will love the Church.” With this poignant line, singer Derek Webb ends his first solo album. The album is “She Must and Shall Go Free” and the song is titled simply “The Church”—and every time I’m traveling overseas and visit a local church body, I experience this truth in a new way.

After a solid night’s sleep and a decent breakfast, we all felt a new perspective on life in EG. Daylight helped as well. (Did I mention that when we got into the guesthouse we were staying at in Bata, there was no electric? That’s great fun at nearly midnight in the Developing World during rainy season…) We headed to meet Pastor Frederico. We pulled up, greeted him, and were invited into his living room to sit down. After a bit he came in and we talked about his church, the land down the street on which they hoped to someday build, and his personal journey as a pastor.

Soon, it was time for the church gathering. We went in and sat down in a predictably steamy, open-air patio off the back of Pastor Frederico’s house. It was certainly nothing exciting—about 30 chairs, a makeshift altar (coffee table covered with a sheet) and a podium inside of which the family’s cat was sleeping. With our delegation, the place was full, but certainly not overflowing. However, it was certainly the church: an elderly couple to my left, a few somewhat large, colorful and joyous women in front of me, a young single man in his 20’s behind me, a few teens with attitudes in the back, and some children wandering around behind the chairs. Sounds like church to me.

The clear indication that it was time for the service to start: one of the colorful women in the front rose, started to shake a kind of maraca and sing in Fang, the tribal tongue spoken by about 80% of Equatorial Guineans. The rest of the church rose immediately after her, and it was on. This tiny group (our delegation, of course, didn’t know the song) sang so loudly that I felt like the tin roof above us might be in trouble. As they did, all who were participating in the service paraded through the center: Pastor Frederico, his assistant Oscar, Pastor Mario, who was preaching that morning, Pastor Guy Roget from Gabon, and our very own Steve Straw. Pastor Frederico spoke a bit, they sang some more, some introductions, more singing, Pastor Mario preaching a killer sermon complete with translation into Fang, and then a few closing prayers and an offering. Sounds like church to me.

We then moved from the back of the house to the front porch, and a majority of those present that morning also made up the “leadership team” that met over cold beverages. We talked about church politics, buildings, organizational structures, and when pressed, got back to values, prayer, and the transformation of people’s hearts. There were some tense moments; there was loud laughter and even some applause following one particularly spirited comment/speech. Our time ended with Pastor Mario and I praying blessing and anointing over Pastor Frederico and Pastor Simone, who is starting a church in Malabo, the political capital of EG. Definitely sounds like the church to me.

As I was walking of the front porch, the woman from the elderly couple in the church grabbed my hand. Her hand was shaking as she held mine over the stone railing which separated us. She spoke a few words that I would have had difficulty understanding had they been in English—that they were spoken in Fang made them clearly impossible. The young man beside me told me that she only speaks Fang, and since he didn’t, he couldn’t interpret.

It was then the magic happened. She looked at me, one eye seemingly clouded with a cataract, and this woman who was likely well into her 80’s began to sing over me. Of course I have absolutely no idea what she sang, but it was beautiful. Her voice rasped a bit, but her words seemed to shoot directly to heaven. For the next two or three minutes, she just looked in my eyes and sang.

I was once told that the word “Hallelujah” is the only word that is the same in every language on earth. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s the same in Fang as it is in English. That was how her song ended: with a string of “Hallelujahs” that shot straight over my head to the ear of her Savior.

To anyone else, it would look exceedingly odd. Here’s a very old African woman grabbing the hands of bald, sweaty white man and singing to him. Unless you’re on a stage performing “The Sound of Music”, that’s just a bit weird. (As though the “Sound of Music” isn’t.) But it was incredible. My spirit soared with her words as she sang them. That is most certainly the church.

Later that night, we had the opportunity to pray over this woman. It was explained to us that she was very ill and dying, and she told us that although God hadn’t healed her yet, she’d like us to pray that He would. Then she told us that she had peace, that everything that needed to happen had happened, she was old, and that she was ready to die and be with Jesus if this was the time. I, for one, was not at all surprised. We prayed God’s mercy and healing over her, and when we were finished, she spoke two phrases through the translator: “As you prayed, I felt a strange warmth inside of me.” And then: “That’s why I need a drink of water.” And she waited for us to oblige.

The Church. It’s sometimes odd, always broken, often hypocritical, a bit dysfunctional… and beautiful. The radiant bride of Christ, in all of its mess. I’m still not sure exactly how we’ll be connected to the work in Equatorial Guinea, but I do know that the Church is here.

And I was thrilled to meet her.