Spiritual Battle in 2017

A spiritual battle has begun in America, but it’s not being fought in the way or over issues that many evangelicals are familiar with.

It’s not about traditional values.  It’s not about culture wars.  And it’s emphatically not about restoring America to a place of exceptionalism, making America first, or making America great “again.”  In fact, all of that seems silly, boring, and idolatrous when considering this spiritual battle.

This is a battle for the heart of the Gospel, and it what it means to follow Jesus in 2017 whilst living in the United States of America.  It’s being fought over issues such as gun violence, immigration, sexuality, sexual abuse, racism, classism, the environment, to name a few.

It’s not about abortion only, and that seems strange, foreign even, to evangelicals of a certain stripe and certain generation.  It’s not about family values and that seems odd, unfamiliar.  It’s not about Christian worldviews and apologetics, and that further confounds many evangelicals brought up in the good old days of the Religious Right, Case for Christ, Moral Majority, and Focus on the Family. 

While some of those things maintain a level of importance in this spiritual battle, they are not at the forefront.  At the forefront are questions of what it means to truly love our neighbor – whether our neighbor is Muslim, Latino, Black, Asian, or white; what it means to follow Jesus who said, “Love your enemies,” and “Blessed are the peacemakers”; what it means to be a citizen of the Kingdom of Heaven first, foremost, most importantly, most distinctly, definitively, before identifying as a citizen of America or other geo-political entity; what it means to walk humbly, doing justice, loving kindness/mercy; what it means that God is making all things new, not all new things, and to live as if you expect that to happen.

At the heart of this battle there is the person of Jesus, the Christ.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because some who don the name “Christian” say Donald Trump is our dream president.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because some have said it’s our God-given right to possess firearms designed to kill at high rates.  Jesus is at the heart because some have said it doesn’t matter what we do with this world, it’s all going to burn up in the end anyway.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because some claim sexuality has been decided, centuries ago, and there is no grey, only black and white, male and female, that’s it.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because some say upholding the laws of the land are more important than the command to love our neighbor in the way the Good Samaritan exhibited radical, costly neighborliness.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because some say people of other faith traditions threaten our ability to freely worship and, ultimately, desire to exterminate our faith altogether.  Jesus is at the heart of the battle because there is disagreement about Jesus and his teachings.

There are others who say no elected official will ever be our dream president because no elected official can ever replace our one and only true allegiance to King Jesus.  There are others who say that when Jesus commanded his disciple to put his sword away, he once and for all commanded all Christians to lay down their weapons.  There are others who say that this world was given to us to steward and care for, and as ‘creation groans’ we will be held responsible for what we do to the earth.  There are others who say sexuality is broken, for ALL people, and so the best way forward is acceptance, understanding, and compassion.  There are others who say the laws of the land are secondary at best because our primary call is to love our neighbor, love the foreigner, for we were once foreigners.  There are others who say other faith traditions are not our enemies, but may be the sheep of the other fold Jesus referred to, or seekers of the cosmic Christ in their own understanding and tradition.  There are others who say that Jesus’ teachings are radical, adventurous, push the boundaries, and we should do the same.

There is a spiritual battle.  It’s not the battle you might imagine.  Maybe you’ve been missing the nuance.  See, the lines are not clearly drawn.  It’s not about liberal and conservative, that’s boring.  It’s not about being traditional or progressive as I don’t know whether anyone really knows what any of these terms really mean anymore.  In other words, they only mean what I want it to mean when I’m trying to distance myself in the battle, draw lines in the battle, explain why I am right and you are wrong in the battle.

A generation is rising up observing the battle – the lines that have been drawn – and many are walking away, disengaging, choosing not to participate.  They aren’t walking away from faith, spirituality, the need for a Source, a Creator, a Spirit that makes life more meaningful, more purposeful, more beautiful.  No, they’re walking away from the battle that is, at its heart, a battle between people who say they follow the same God revealed in the person of Jesus Christ but refuse to come to the Table, yes the Table, and move forward. 

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We need to get our act together, Church, fam. The Spirit is moving. We need to confess our complicity in systems that hurt people created in the image of God. We need to repent. We need to listen. We need to get do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God.

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Our Idols

I'm sick over these shootings. I'm sick that these have become status-quo. I'm sick that as a country we have apparently become so impotent: "Nothing can be done. It is what it is."

Yet some say we are exceptional. But we can't be exceptional if citizens can't go to a concert, the movies, school, or church safely. We can't be exceptional if we can't band together and make sensible change. We can't be exceptional if living here means we simply accept these tragedies as normative and magically wish and pray they don't happen to me or my loves ones. Exceptional people make exceptional, sacrificial, courageous decisions.

Yesterday I preached on the topic of Solus Christus, salvation in Christ alone. Nothing else can save us, but Jesus Christ. In Christian churches, heads nod and "Amens" are heard throughout when sermons like this are preached! "We love it! We love Jesus! He's my King! He's my Lord!"

But we have our idols. If we're honest, it's not always Christ alone, and guns are but one of those idols. Our inaction on sensible gun control illustrates the fact that we would rather cling to our weapons for a feeling of safety and security than lay our lives at the feet of Jesus. We would rather hold fast to our claims as citizens of America who uphold the "laws of the land" than our identity as citizens of the Kingdom of God with Scripture as our one and only guide.

We are experiencing a crisis of faith. Too many of us who claim to represent our Lord and King, Jesus the Christ, are double-minded and divided in our loyalties, something our Holy Scriptures warns against. It's no wonder the next generation is walking away from this badly conflated, syncretistic version of nationalistic faith we have passed down.

Agree or disagree, these moments call for confession, repentance, prayer, unity, and the courage to move forward with hope as our guide, rejecting the FEAR so many will alluringly dangle before us.

To my friends and congregation, I'd love to begin face to face conversations on how we move forward as followers of Jesus that we might better represent his Kingdom while we sojourn on this earth. Lord, have mercy. May the peace of Christ be with us all.

Self-Criticism

I heard Richard Rohr say,

"Without the self-critical aspect of religion, when religion does not develop the prophetic or self-critical function at the core of its message, it is always idolatrous; it will always worship itself.”

I wonder if this could be true of all organizations, institutions, nations, even of individuals. When we lose the self-critical aspect - when we are afraid to ask tough questions, have tough conversations about the realities we are facing - we curve inward. This curving inward causes us to reject criticism, reject anything that might suggest, "Things could be better." We become defensive. We make excuses. We blame others. We cannot look within. We don't dare examine the depths of our heart, the depths of our souls.

A truly great organization, institution, individual can stand up to scrutiny, criticism, examination; it/he/she is not afraid to take a long look in the mirror. Criticism doesn't diminish greatness, it aims to make things better.

Given the recent barrage of general craziness in our country over the past months, I wonder if this great nation is strong enough to stand up to criticism. Are we as a nation strong enough to carefully examine our warts, our diseases, our social and moral shortcomings? Do we believe "things could be better"? Some suggest calling any attention to these matters is divisive, thus seeking to shut down the criticism.

Players in the NFL and people of color are and have been criticizing; gun control advocates are criticizing; the citizens of Puerto Rico are criticizing; religious minorities are criticizing; LGBT community is criticizing. Will we hear the critique? Will we listen and wonder, "Could things be better?" or will we simply dismiss these voices and curve further inward? Are we impotent, powerless, unable to effect change?

And Church. Come on. Where you at Church? We who claim Christ should be more willing than anyone to look within, name our faults, and believe we can change, we can be made new, we can see things get better, we can see the messiest of situations redeemed. Right? Or have we given up on looking inward as well? Are we too participating in a culture that refuses criticism?

We need the prophetic voice. We need to listen to the prophetic voice. We need to allow the prophets on the margins of society to call us to something better, something deeper, something richer, something that allows for human flourishing for all humans, something that helps us all prosper and thrive.

If you've read this far, may the peace of Christ be with you!

Lord Have Mercy

I am a white man.  I have the privilege of sitting here in rural Washington living my life as if nothing has changed and nothing will change; as in, my life goes on just as peachy, prosperous, and promise filled as before.

I find myself watching Facebook and Twitter to get a pulse for where “my people” are at on the recent verdict.  My seminary friends – mostly pastors now – and especially my African American “friends” around the country are angry.  There is righteous anger.  There is serious reflection.  There is a sense that they are all asking, “Seriously, this happened in 2014?” 

And then there are my more conservative “friends.”  They too feel a sense of righteous indignation.  They too feel wronged in this moment; after all, this was a police officer, one of US, defending himself against a criminal.

I read.  I weep.  I get pissed off.  I wonder.  What will I do?  How will I respond?  Will I tweet something provocative?  Will I share links that agree with where I’m at?  Where am I at? 

And I realize.  We all need to shut up.  Especially those of us in the white, privileged community.  We need to shut up and listen, grieve, seek understanding, and forgiveness.  We need to shut up and realize that a young man’s life has been cut short.  A young man’s life has been ended.  Whatever he did; whoever he was; the truth is that he was unarmed.  He was alive one moment, dead the next.  His life was cut short, taken from him, ended. 

If this happened in my community – to someone I knew – I’d want answers.  I’d want justice.  I’d want things to change, or to at least know that this event, this terrible, tragic, insane event was taken seriously enough to incite change.

And then I see it.  I see what’s wrong with the paragraph I just wrote.  Did you catch it?  I “would” want this; I “would” want that.  Why don’t I want it now?  Sure, this happened thousands of miles away from me.  Sure, this doesn’t really impact me right now, right here in rural Washington.  But maybe it should.  Maybe it does.  No, strike that 'maybe,' it does.

If I’m serious about Jesus’ definition of neighbor.  If I’m serious about Jesus’ call to love neighbor as I love myself, then this should matter.  I shouldn’t see Michael as a MEMBER of some community somewhere, out there, over there, different, detached, separate, OTHER from me and my people.  Michael is my people.  Michael is a kid that could be on my football team; he could be in my youth group; he could be a friend of my kids’ one day.  Michael could be the son of a guy I coach with.  Michael is part of me.

But it’s easier to protect myself from going there.   It’s easier to ignore that truth.  It’s easier to go about my life because I’m allowed to go about my life; I’m privileged to go about my life.

Jesus says, “To those who much has been given, much is required.”  I hate that passage.  Why did he have to say that?  I ask because the truth is, I have a lot.  I know it, and therefore I have no excuse.

So what will I do?  Where am I at? 

Writing this is the beginning – a really lame first step.  Some who read it will question my motives.  Some will disagree while others will want to join their voices to mine.  But those who truly know me – know my heart for the Lord and desire to see the Good News be Good News for all people – will know that these words, these musings, are but a beginning.

Lord have mercy.

Be Holy. Be Fascinating.

Leviticus 20:26

You are to be holy to me because I, the Lord, am holy, and I have set you apart from the nations to be my own.

Ephesians 1:4

For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.

Hebrews 12:14

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord.

1 Peter 1:15-16

 But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: “Be holy, because I am holy.”

1 Thessalonians 4:3

 It is God’s will that you should be sanctified

“Be holy.”

We are called to be holy; to be sanctified; to be set apart; to be different.

In Jesus for President, Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw write, “God would save the world through fascination, by setting up an alternative society on the margins of the empire for the world to come and see what a society of love looks like.” 

An alternative society on the margins.  Saving the world through fascination.

I’m not sure if this is exactly appropriate, but what happens if we replace the word holy, with fascinating? 

“Be fascinating.” 

I wonder what this might do for the cause of Christ.  What if instead of being uptight, boring, uninteresting, blah, plain, against this and against that, the people of God were fascinating?

We love and are loved by a fascinating, extraordinary God.  Would that our lives would reflect this truth.

So.

Be holy.  Be fascinating.

We All Die

We will all die.  We spend a lot of time, energy, and resources desperately trying to avoid this truth.  Through modern medicine, safety requirements, laws, and the like, we do everything we can to avoid the reality of death - the reality of our mortality.

I stood in line to receive ashes.  I watched as a mother went forward with her small children.  They all received the ashes:

"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  Repent, and believe the gospel."

I'm a parent.  As I watched these children receive the ashes, I immediately thought about the mortality of my own children.  We do so much to protect our kids.  We go to great lengths and are willing to spare no expense to shield our kids from harm, especially from death.  But on this night, the words for young and old are the same, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

I was still in line.  An older couple wanted to get in line, so I stepped back to let them in.  He entered using a cane for support; she followed close behind.  They helped each other along to the ashes, receiving them one after another:

"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  Repent, and believe the gospel." 

There aren't different words for different ages, races, genders.  In this respect, Ash Wednesday reminds us of the greatest equalizer of all: the reality that we all die.  Yes, we will all die.  We all know it.  We throw around the cliches, "Make the most of your time."  "Life is short."  "You never know when it's your time to go."

But what do we do with this reality?  How do we live into this reality?  Lent invites us to consider these questions anew, with greater purpose and an intensified intentionality.

We live into Lent, and the reality of death, anticipating resurrection hope.

We live into Lent, and the reality of our sin and imperfection, anticipating forgiveness.

We live into Lent, and in so doing, we proclaim the message of the Gospel - the message Jesus' proclaimed when he began his ministry - "The Kingdom of God is at hand, repent and believe the Good News!"

But until the Day comes,

"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  Repent, and believe the gospel."

In Observance of A Holy Lent

“What is one thing you could do over the next forty days that could change your life forever?”

This question was asked in Mark Scandrette’s book, Practicing the Way of Jesus.  I can’t think of a more appropriate time for us to begin to ask ourselves this important question than in anticipating the observance of Lent.

I have to admit, the idea of giving something up or even adding something to one’s life in order to think about Jesus’ sacrifice has often, in my opinion, seemed trite or not quite far enough.  “Jesus died for my sins, so I’m not going to eat chocolate or be on Facebook this month.  And on top of this huge sacrifice, I’ll be sure to tell all my friends and complain whenever the opportunity arises.”

Somehow I don’t think that’s the idea of fasting.

So what if we considered making a change that could actually impact our lives – not just for 40 days – but forever?  What if we considered making a change that not only eradicated a negative habit, but that created space for God to inhabit the space that habit once held?  [Mmmmm.  I liked that last question]

Scandrette offers some helpful instructions:

1 - Examine Your Life

Spend some time in solitude asking God to reveal where transformation is most needed. In what area do you long for healing and greater wholeness?

2 - Explore Patterns and Root Causes Identified

On a piece of paper, briefly describe the issue or pattern. What are the daily choices you make that support this habit or pattern?

3 - Decide What New Practice(s) to Adopt

An effective experiment will include both elements of abstinence and engagement—something you will stop doing and something you will start doing as a healthy alternative.

4 - Commit to Your Plan

We show what we really believe and value by what we are committed to actually do.  Share your plan with a trusted friend who will hold you accountable.  Find a way to actually chart or show your progress and STICK TO IT!  If you miss a day, don't give up!

What if we committed to observing a holy Lent, and in the process changed our lives – creating space for the Creator to enter into and reshape our habits, passions, and way of seeing the world?  Will you choose to observe a holy Lent?

Listen

Isaiah 55:3a
"Come to me with your ears wide open.
          Listen, and you will find life." (NLT)

We listen ourselves to life.  In a world that is busy; that is frenetic; that is full; that encourages us to consume more, want more, get more, be more, and do more, we must stop to listen that we would find life.  Jesus offers an abundant life to those who might follow him.  He says that he is the Good Shepherd, and his sheep listen to his voice.

Listen.

I cannot escape this word these days.  In reading Scripture, conversations with friends and colleagues, and other books that have called for my attention, the theme of listening seems to be everywhere.  Why is that?  What is it about this time in my life - this space in my vocational and familial life - that God is specifically reminding me of my need to listen?

Transition.  Excitement.  Possibility.  Opportunity.

Will I listen?  Will I let God lead?

Help us to listen, Lord, that we might find life.

Faith and Doubt

In conversations with students, I've been faced with the relationship between faith and doubt.  Somehow, somewhere, students seem to believe that faith and doubt cannot coexist; that the existence of doubt is the negation of faith.  Where do they get this notion?

This has caused me to wonder just how many young people, or anyone for that matter, have left faith because they were discouraged by doubt.  How many have we lost who believe faith and doubt were at odds?  Isn't it more true to suggest that doubt drives us to deeper faith; that is, when we are able to truly wrestle with and deal honestly with our doubts, we are able to arrive at a deeper, more robust faith?

In Rob Bell's most recent book, What We Talk About When We Talk About God, this quote grabbed my attention:

"For many people in our world, the opposite of faith is doubt. The goal, then, within this understanding, is to eliminate doubt. But faith and doubt aren’t opposites. Doubt is often a sign that your faith has a pulse, that it’s alive and well and exploring and searching. Faith and doubt aren’t opposites; they are, it turns out, excellent dance partners."

Doubt is a sign your faith has a pulse.
Doubt and Faith are excellent dance partners.

I find myself agreeing with these notions.  I think this will be helpful for students with whom I work.  I am reminded of the man who said to Jesus, "I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief."  Unbelief, doubt, uncertainty - this is where Jesus steps in and moves us, shapes us, changes our hearts and beliefs, our attitudes and understandings.

So why are we so uncomfortable with doubt?  Why does it seem so scary?

Make It Salty

After reading the Kierkegaard parables I shared in my last post and reading/listening to Peter Rollins over the last month or so, I've been thinking a lot about the role of story in our preaching/teaching.  Rollins uses parables A LOT, and they're effective.  It's crazy how I remember these stories he tells.

Rollins says, "Instead of religious discourse being a type of drink designed to satisfy our thirst for answers, Jesus made his teaching salty, evoking thirst."  He explains this further in a video from 2011:


The Power of Parable from Peter Rollins on Vimeo.

I wonder whether our Christian teaching/preaching, even our conversations with others, focus too much on giving answers or providing solutions to biblical/theological issues.

We use a lot of words in Christianity.  We have a language that we use, and many of us who grew up in church or who have been around church are quite comfortable with this language - whether we realize it or not.  But, how do we use these words, this language, in order to communicate with others - even fellow believers?  Do we give out answers?  Do we give easy to stomach definitions, black and white, that no one should dare have to think or wrestle with faith, doubt, the Bible?  Do we give self-help?  Do we peddle feel-goodism?

Rollins says,

"It is all too common for Christians to attempt to do justice to the scriptural narrative by listening to it, learning from it, and attempting to extract a way of viewing the world from it. But the narrative itself is asking us to approach it in a much more radical way. It is inviting us to wrestle with it, disagree with it, contend with it, and contest it—not as an end in itself, but as a means of approaching its life-transforming truth, a truth that dwells within and yet beyond the words." 

I like this idea of using parable, stories, that our words would be salty; thus, evoking thirst in our hearers.  I'd love to have some salty conversations where I walked away thirsty, literally seeking out the water, Jesus himself.  I'd love it if my preaching/teaching left people with questions, not of me, but of the text, of Jesus himself.  I'd love it if they walked away looking for water, searching for life-giving water.

Let's wrestle through this together.  Let's sharpen one another as we seek answers and contend with, contest, disagree with one another, SO THAT we can be transformed by Jesus.

May your words be salty.  May your words invoke thirst.

A Pentecost Message

Jesus taught using parables, one author says, “So that instead of religious discourse being a type of drink designed to satisfy our thirst for answers, his teachings would be salty, evoking thirst.”

This Pentecost Sunday, as we celebrate God’s gift of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the church, I want to share with you two parables attributed to Danish philosopher Soren Kierkagaard, that these teachings might evoke thirst for the Holy Spirit.

“There was a rich man.  At an outrageous price he bought a team of entirely flawless, splendid horses, which he had wanted for his own pleasure and for the pleasure of driving  himself.  About a year or two passed by.  If anyone who had known the horses earlier now saw him driving them, he would not be able to recognize them: their eyes had become dull and drowsy; their gait lacked style and precision; they had no staying power, no endurance; he could drive them scarcely four miles without having to stop on the way, and sometimes they came to a standstill just when he was driving his best; moreover, they had acquired all sorts of quirks and bad habits, and although they of course had plenty of feed they grew thinner day by day.
 Then he called the royal coachman.  He drove them for a month.  In the whole countryside there was not a team of horses that carried their heads so proudly, whose eyes were so fiery, who gait was so beautiful; there was no team of horses that could hold out running as they did, even thirty miles in a stretch without stopping.  How did this happen?  It is easy to see:  the owner, who without being a coachman meddled with being a coachman, drove the horses according to the horses’ understanding of what it is to drive; the royal coachman drove them according to the coachman’s understanding of what it is to drive.”

So ends the parable.  Kierkegaard follows this parable saying, “So also with us human beings.  When I think of myself and the countless people I have come to know, I have often said to myself sadly:  here are capacities and talents and qualifications enough, but the coachman is lacking.” 

Today, 2000 years removed from the day of Pentecost, we are in dire need of submission to the divine coachman, the Holy Spirit; the same Spirit that drove the Apostles to preach, heal, and serve in the face of great uncertainty and even physical harm.  We, like the Apostles, must first die to self, and die to the notion that we can drive these bodies of ours through the perils of life, on our own, without aid, without God.  We must die to self, that we might allow the Spirit of life, the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Spirit of God to be our guide, our driver, our coachman.

In John 14, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit to those who would keep his commands and remain in him.  In this chapter, Jesus makes two statements I find quite interesting.  First, he says, “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.”  Even greater things.  Whoever believes in me will do not only the things Jesus has been doing, but more.  The second thing I find fascinating is when Jesus says that it is actually better that he leaves.  It is better for us that Jesus go to the Father.  He says, “If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.”  This is most certainly interesting.  It seems reasonable that life would be much better if Jesus were to stay, but Jesus seems to say that it is better that he leaves, for the presence of the Holy Spirit will allow us to do GREATER things that even Jesus did.

To further evoke thirst, allow me to share the second parable.

There was a certain town where all the residents are ducks.  Every Sunday the ducks waddle out of their houses and waddle down Main Street to their church. They waddle into the sanctuary and squat in their proper pews. The duck choir waddles in and takes its place, and then the duck minister comes forward and opens the duck Bible.He reads to them: "Ducks! God has given you wings! With wings you can fly! With wings you can mount up and soar like eagles. No walls can confine you! No fences can hold you! You have wings. God has given you wings, and you can fly like birds!"All the ducks shout, "Amen!"And then they all waddle home.

Parable On Heaven - At Last

I can't seem to shake the power of this parable Peter Rollins shares in his book, Fidelity of Betrayal.  He shares it in the video I've posted below.  I found this parable, originally told by Philip Harrison, to be challenging and encouraging in that it surprised me, caught me off guard, and messed with my preconceived notions of the allure of heaven.  The promise of heaven is unbelievable, indescribable, even considering the amazing revelation given to St. John.  I'm interested in reactions to this parable.  I'm wrestling with what it means for us, particularly for people like me who live comfortably as Christians in this world that is not our home.



You can also read the parable from Rollins' book if a 3 minute video seems to long for you!


The other day I had a dream. I dreamed I arrived at the gates of heaven, heavy-shut, pure oak, bevelled and crafted, glinting sharp in the sunlight. St. Peter stood to greet me; the big man wore brown, smile set deep against his ruddy cheeks.

“You’re here,” he said.

“I am,” I said.

“Great to see you—been expecting you,” he smiled. “Come on in.”

He pushed gently against the huge door; it swung silently, creakless. I took a couple of steps forward until, at the threshold, one more step up and in, I realized I wasn’t alone. My friends had joined me, but they hovered behind, silently, looking on. None spoke. I realized only I could speak. I looked at them; some were Christians, some Hindus, some Buddhists, some muslims, some Jews, some atheists. Some God knows what. I stopped, paused. A hesitant St. Peter looked at me, patiently, expectantly.

“What about these guys?” I asked him. “My friends. Can they come?”

“Well, Phil,” he replied, soft in the still air, “you know the rules. I’m sorry, but that’s the way things are. Only the right ones.”

I looked at him. He seemed genuinely pained by his answer. I stood, considering. What should I do? I thought about my reference points, and thought about Jesus, the bastard, the outsider, the unacceptable, the drunkard, the fool, the heretic, the criminal, and I knew exactly where I belonged.

“I’ll just stay here then too,” I said, taking my one foot out of heaven. And I’ll tell you, I’d swear I saw something like a grin break across St. Peter’s face, and a voice from inside whispered, “At last.”

Come to _____________ ?

This video from Len Sweet created by "The Work of the People" was speaking my language today.  I'm going to leave this short as I'm still processing these thoughts.  Maybe you can enter into the current monologue I have going in my brain.  Watch the video first, then think about this phrase that's been stuck in my head today:

Our benchmark for Christian faith isn't the Bible, it's Jesus.

I'm not sure I have much more to say.  This thought - this phrase - was stuck in my head as I drove to a youth pastor meeting today.  Is it a true statement?  Is it intelligible?  I'm not sure what to make of it, but there it is!

Like I said, check out the video.  Reflect.  Comment.

Evangelism - A Moving Target

"In a world where people believe they are not hungry, we must not offer food but rather an aroma that helps them desire the food that we cannot provide."

Peter Rollins, How (Not) to Speak of God

I'm finding myself newly engaged in thoughts and conversations on evangelism.  Several blogs I read - (http://www.averageyouthministry.com) and (http://careynieuwhof.com) - have been talking about sharing the Gospel given our place in this post-Christian reality.  It's all caused me to admit that evangelism, or sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ, really is a moving target.  That is, our strategies and approaches must adapt as we seek to share The Good News that is unchangeable with a constantly changing culture.

Nieuwhof had an excellent post the other day where he described the "15 Characteristics of Today's Unchurched Person."  In his list, one grabbed my attention:  #6 - You can't call them back to something they never knew.  I've thought about the concept of revival, even prayed that it might happen in our country, our county, our community.  I'm not giving up hope for revival, but I realize the truth in the fact that there might not be much to "revive" these days.  How do you offer the Bread of Life to people who don't believe they need it?  How can we invite people to receive the Good News when it doesn't seem so good to them?  Instead, we must, as Peter Rollins suggests, "Offer the aroma that helps them desire the food."

It's not our job to offer the food, but to be an aroma that helps them desire the food that, in the end, we cannot provide.  God alone provides the food - is the food.  Let us be the aroma that draws them to the food.

2 Corinthians 2:14-15
But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.

"continuous partial attention"

In his book, Cracking Your Church's Culture Code, author Samuel Chand quotes Linda Stone, a former Apple and Microsoft employee, who says,

To pay continuous partial attention is to pay partial attention—CONTINUOUSLY.  Another way of saying this is that we want to connect and be connected. We want to effectively scan for opportunity and optimize for the best opportunities, activities, and contacts, in any given moment. To be busy, to be connected, is to be alive, to be recognized, and to matter. We pay continuous partial attention in an effort NOT TO MISS ANYTHING. It is an always-on, anywhere, anytime, any place behavior that involves an artificial sense of constant crisis. We are always in high alert when we pay continuous partial attention.

There's a lot going on in that quote.  What stands out to you?  I've noticed a lot of this recently in my personal life and my work with students.  Turns out FOMO, the Fear of Missing Out, has truly enslaved us.  It has caused us to waste the precious, yet oft neglected resources of attention, time, and brain waves.  We find ourselves asking, "What if?  What if I'm not 100% in the know about March Madness, the 2013 roster of the Chicago Cubs, and the progress of spring football in Nebraska?"  Maybe those are the things that drive me to Facebook, ESPN.com, and Twitter.  Maybe it's just me.  Maybe I'm the only one willing to admit I suffer from "continuous partial attention disorder."

I'm currently coaching high school baseball, and our team is struggling.  We are competing; the games are close, but we're just not quite winning.  Winning the game sort of matters in sports.  Now you know.  Sports are supposed to be fun, and winning, let me tell you, is really fun.  Winning beats losing every time.  All that was for free, back to the good stuff.  Our team is struggling.  We've noticed that in the midst of these struggles there aren't a lot of guys eager to put in extra work to improve.  I know some of them could read this, so they need to know that I know that some of them are working hard and putting in extra effort.  However, some of them have other things on their minds.  Some can't seem to escape the lure of March Madness.  Some are thinking about the video game they'll rush home to play, or the homework they've put off for literally a year.  Those are the "finally getting around to my Junior goals essay because now I'm a Senior and I need it to graduate" guys.  

The question is, What really matters?  You see, the athletes I coach are prone to say that sports really matter to them; they hope to make all conference, earn all-state recognition, a college scholarship, or to play professionally.  Yet, they rarely count the cost and put in the work necessary to achieve these goals.  Their sports careers are an exercise in "continual partial attention."  Sports are important, yes, but there are a lot of other things competing for their attention.  I mean, what if I don't know who Taylor Swift is currently dating?  That could mean the end of all things for a high schooler, right?

I wonder, how many of us could say the same about our faith?  We really want to want to love and follow Jesus, but there are so many other things competing for our attention.  So, we give Jesus our continuous partial attention.  We give Jesus a little slice of our attention, and we have good intentions to give him more.  Yet, when it really comes down to it, there are other "opportunities, activities, and contacts" that we also need to keep an eye on.  This continuous partial attention impacts our discipleship, our relationships, and our ability to focus on what really matters.

Examine your life.  Think about your day.  How often are you 100% present to the person or task at hand?  How often are you able to give your full attention to Christ?  As I type this, I have an episode of the Office playing on the Wii and my iPhone is blowing up with texts.  This blog post has been an example to me of my participation in a lifestyle of continuous partial attention.  What about you?!

The Church?

What is the "Church"?  How do we define the Church?  

If you've been around Evangelicalism as long as I have you know the answer:

The Church is the people.

While I understand this statement and the sentiment behind it, I heard something the other day that gave me pause to think.  We usually say "Church is people" in contrast to an understanding that Church might be a building, a denomination, a mission, or a religion.

I'm at the dentist last week, and my hygienist starts talking to me about my work as a youth pastor.  We talk (as well as I could talk in between scraping, polishing, you know the drill!) about her participation and frustration with church over the years.  We talk about the need for positive influences in the lives of youth and the importance of spirituality.  In the course of the conversation, as she alludes to past hurts done by church people she says, 

"I always have to remember the Church isn't the people; it's bigger than that."

Did you catch that?  It caught me off guard.  It actually made sense.  It makes sense.  The Church can't just be the people.  If the Church is "the people," then we've got a mess on our hands, and so long as people continue to be part of the Church, the mess isn't going away!  I think, and I'm still trying to think this all through - constantly working on ecclesiology - that the Church has to be bigger than the people. To be certain, the Church includes the people, but it's got to be bigger.  Right?

Are We Paying Attention?

What follows is an article I wrote for our church newsletter.  The video embedded fits really well.  I believe you'll see the connection after reading the article.  The question is, "Are we paying attention?"

Mark Labberton, Associate Professor of Preaching at Fuller Seminary, asked, “Are you paying attention?”  His message got my attention!  Labberton suggested that the Bible tells a story where:

1)   God pays attention to people, whom he created
2)   God then calls people to pay attention to Him
3)   Finally, God sends people to pay attention to others

In the final January Sunday school class on Evangelism, I shared from Luke 7:36-50.  Jesus is eating at the house of Simon, a Pharisee, when a woman enters who is, we are told, a notorious sinner.  This woman has the audacity to cry on Jesus’ feet, wipe the tears away with her hair, and finally to pour perfume on his feet.  This was too much for Simon.  “If Jesus were a prophet,” Simon thinks, “He would know who is touching him – that she is a sinner.”

After telling a parable about debts being forgiven, Jesus asks Simon, “Do you see this woman?”  It seems like a silly question.  Of course, physically speaking, he has the ability to see the woman.  She is impossible to miss.  Is it possible, then, that Jesus is asking, “Are you paying attention?” 

In our world, we too encounter people everyday at work, school, the grocery store, and even in our own family that we have trouble seeing.  Are we paying attention? 

On my way to Midwinter I read a book by Carl Medearis entitled, Speaking of Jesus: The Art of Not-Evangelism.  In the book, Medearis says that sharing faith isn’t about doctrine, dogma, or apologizing for church history; it’s about pointing people to Jesus.  He writes, “Relax. Enjoy your friends. Enjoy their company along with the company of Jesus. Point Him out, freely, without fear or intimidation. You’re not responsible to sell Him to them. You’re simply saying what you’ve seen. You’re not the judge. You’re the witness.”

There is great freedom in this approach.  We are invited to share our stories with others in a way that takes them seriously, takes Jesus seriously, and that shows the world that we are paying attention.  What an enormous privilege! 

In my Midwinter travels, I had an opportunity to do just as Medearis described.  I was waiting for the bus at LAX.  A young woman stood beside me, also waiting.  The bus seemed to be late, so I asked, “Is there any chance you are also waiting for the bus to Santa Barbara?”  She was.  She introduced herself.  She was in Southern California on a business trip from China.  I asked about her work.  She asked what I do for work.  I explained that I am a Pastor in a church.  The bus came.  We got on and she sat in the row across from me.

 About 30 minutes into the ride I heard my name, “Chad,” she said, “Would you mind telling me more about your work?  I am very fascinated by this.”

I realized I had been presented an opportunity to be a witness; to tell what I have seen; it was also my opportunity to pay attention.  As I told her about my role in pointing students to faith in Christ, she asked, “So you are like a life coach?  This is a good thing!”  I was able to use her understanding of life coaching, and my own experience, to say, “Yes, but, in my work I am always pointing kids to Jesus.  I am always asking, “How are your dreams, goals, and hopes for the future influenced by your faith in Jesus Christ?” 

I found that because I was thinking about paying attention, was aware of the presence of another, and was intentional about pointing to Jesus, I was more relaxed and confident that Jesus would do the work of making himself known to this young woman.

I wonder if we paid attention and knew that we aren’t called to be the judge, or the sales rep, but are called to be the witness, how many of us would have more conversations like this?  How have you been paying attention to God?  How have you noticed God paying attention to you?  And, how are you doing at paying attention to others?  Are you willing to share what you’ve seen; to point people to the God revealed in Jesus Christ, who pays attention to humanity?  May it be so with us!

Now check out this little video that shows just how hard it is to truly pay attention.  How'd you do?