What's Chasing You?

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4: 19

Paul wrote these words to the Philippians, after they had sent him a financial gift. He knew that the gift he had received would have created needs for the Philippians--they had given out of poverty, not abundance. I imagine it was hard for Paul to accept such a gift. In fact, he might have been tempted to return it, except that he had great faith in God's generosity. 

ALL YOUR NEEDS

It's quite a promise. And as I was reflecting on this verse this morning, I was reminded of Psalm 23, which concludes with a similar sentiment.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life

The word that is translated "follow" is actually a hunting term that means to chase or pursue. In other words, the goodness of God--his love and his provision--are  not things that I need to chase after, they are things that chase after me. Or as Matthew put it, they are simply '"added" to my life as I seek hard after God. 

But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Matthew 6:33

So I had to ask myself if I believe this promise that Paul makes to the Philippians. Do I chase after the blessings or the blesser? Because while it may seem that these two are connected, the pursuit of one will lead me in the opposite direction of the other. I cannot chase both.

If I chase the blessings, I may catch a few of them, but chances are I'll miss both the Kingdom and His righteousness. But if I chase the blesser, I will not only find the Kingdom, I'll find the King. And if I find the King, what else could I possibly need? Does a child starve when her dad is the King? Does she wander about in rags? Is she floundering through life without  mission or pupose? Surely not! 

And yet, I chase the blessings.

I don't really trust that God is enough, that Christ is sufficient, and that I will be satisfied in Him alone. I say I believe those things, but I live like I don't. 

When finances are limited, I stop being generous. When time is limited, I stop being available. When positions are limited, I vie for a place. When options are limited, I lobby for my way. I spend my energy fighting for the things that Jesus gives away for free. As I chase these things, I am chased by worry, fear, and doubt--all of which tell me that I am never going to have enough, do enough, or be enough. 

In my pursuit of worldly riches, I am impoverished of the riches of his glory. 

When I pursue Jesus, all the rest is "added." The still waters and calm pastures. The paths of righteousness. The restoration of my soul. These are the things that are chasing me when I chase after the blesser instead of the blessings.

So if you want to know what you are really chasing after, all you have to ask yourself is "What's chasing me?" Are you hounded by worry or overcome by peace? Are you running from scarcity or overtaken by abundance? Are you trying to escape isolation or drowning in love? 

What's chasing you?

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Reflecting on Current Events

What a week you've had, my fellow Americans.  And how very far away I feel from it all.  Yet, you are near to my heart. I am one of you.

It's moments like this when wordsmiths like me are out like mad on the web trying to make pithy statements or dazzling observations. Facebook lights up with soundbites and hashtags. All of us, trying to make sense of a world that seems senseless.

Knowing my words won't add anything new to the conversation, I can easily retreat to silence. But there is danger there, too. Because silence can communicate contentedness with the status quo, complicity with all that is wrong. So while I do not expect to add anything new, I must say something.

The first thing that I will say is that I am ignorant, which means that the best thing I can do is shut up and listen to those who are less ignorant than myself. As a white American, I have privileges and opportunities that I don't even realize I have. I cannot understand what it is like to be a minority. It's not that I don't want to understand. It's that I can't. So when I am tempted to spout off solutions or to claim that my experience is representative of another person's experience, I do not reveal my wisdom, I reveal my ignorance. This is not to say that I should not try to understand, but I must realize that I am only going to be able to achieve an intellectual level of understanding and not an experiential level.

At the intellectual level we can study statistics and trends, we can talk about "equality" and "opportunity." We can make laws and sign petitions and have debates. Even better, I can lean into my friendships with minority people in an effort to hear and learn from their experiences. I can stop listening only to the voices of those who sound like me and listen to the voices that challenge my paradigm. These voices may not change my mind, but they will expand my heart and help me to have compassion. And I need to really listen. Listen to understand, and not just to refute. I need to imagine the possibility that there are things I don't yet know, haven't yet encountered, or have wrongly dismissed. Such listening might open me up to a new perspective. It could help me to think more deeply and sincerely about the complexity of the problems. It could lead to better solutions.

Oh but that IS such hard work. And we live in a world that prefers quips and tweets. We're all looking for that one meme that is going to bottom-line it for us. Deep thinking is no longer valued. And, sadly, we evangelical Christians can be more about categorizing issues into black and white, right and wrong, than wrestling with complexities. Why do we do that?

Remember how angry Jesus would get at the Pharisees, who were tithing down to the tiniest cent while failing miserably at loving others? They were working so hard at being right that they failed to seek true righteousness. Mercy can't be measured, so it fell off their radar.

The second thing I will say is that  from a distance, at least, the United States appears to be a nation gripped by fear. Given the challenges and difficulties of life, fear is a natural human response. But fear is not a God-honoring response. Fear begets hate. I'm pretty sure that's why "Fear not" is the most repeated command in the Bible. But the inverse is also true--perfect love casts out fear. So if you really need a black and white barometer, why not use this one: "Am I being motivated by love or by fear?"

Fear, unchecked, will be the death of us. It is becoming the guiding force of political and social issues, and it is not healthy! Fear is at the heart of the gun debate. Fear is at the heart of the immigrant debate. Fear is at the heart of racism. Fear is at the heart of the bathroom debates, for heaven's sake! And fear is at the heart of the all the election rhetoric.

Look at the fear-mongering that goes on, particularly from Evangelical Christian leaders. On his own website, James Dobson defends his support of Trump by saying, "Hillary scares me to death." This is not good leadership, it isn't even Biblical, for he is rooting his decision in fear. Ben Carson, a man many of us respected, has said things like "Hillary is of the devil." And fear of Trump is worn like a badge of honor by, well, just about everyone. Both sides are trying to garner support for their candidate by painting the scariest picture of the other person. Fear. On all sides.

Let's not take our fear to the voting booth or the pulpit. Let's take our fear to Christ, confess it as sin, and ask for His wisdom and discernment to be our guides. Let's step back from the hysteria. Listen to the words of James chapter 3:

For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder and every evil thing. But the wisdom from above is first pure then peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without hypocrisy. And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

Here we have a filter to determine if what we are doing or thinking is aligned with God's wisdom or not. Don't ask "Is it scary?" Ask "Is it pure (or is it impure)? Is it peaceable (or is it hostile)? Is is gentle (or is it harsh)? Is it reasonable (or is it rediculous)? Is it full of mercy (or is it cruel)? Is it unwavering (or is it faltering)? Is it without hypocrisy (or is it hypocritical)?" And then consider how you share your views. Are you sowing in peace (or are you sowing  in dissention)? And just an aside--there is not a single news station in the US that is NOT sowing dissention. So maybe turn off the TV and the radio and read more newspapers. Most are available online these days, and this access to the written word allows you to search out all sides of an issue while refusing to support the inflammatory, baiting, fear-mongering rubbish that permeates the airwaves. Try to find facts, and take time to think constructively about the facts that you find.

Let me end where I began. I am ignorant. But I also have the advantage of viewing things from outside the American arena--which offers a unique perspective. I have so much to learn, and the more I learn the more I realize how much I don't know. So I'm simply sharing what I think to be my best contribution to the important conversations that are swirling all around us. Two things I am committing to do: Listen more and fear less.

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The following are links to articles or books that I have found helpful. None of them are perfect, and I do not agree with everything that is found in them. But I do find that reading these things is helping me to understand the complexity of these issues, to think more deeply about solutions, and to consider what my best contribution might be. Believe it or not, there are a lot of very smart people of integrity on all sides of these issues.

Here is a link to a short article that explains why #AllLivesMatter may be an uninformed and unhelpful respose to #BlackLivesMatter.

Colleen Mitchell, a Catholic missionary in Costa Rica, speaks truth in her article, "10 Reasons Why I Don't Want to be You White Ally."

This is the best article I've read on why Trump is so popular with evangelicals.

I really appreciate this insightful article from a woman with a black son and a husband who is a white police officer.

If you haven't yet read The Same Kind of Different as Me, I highly recommend it. It's an easy but poignant book.

I was challenged by bell hooks' book Where We Stand: Class Matters. Some of her writing is inflammatory and she does not provide sufficient research to support her harsh judgements; however, I must admit that some of her claims ring with truth and have made me think twice about the ramifications of our consumerist culture and how consumerism is linked to racism and sexism. This book is hard for a white middle/upper class audience to read because it is highly critical. But if you read it, seek to leave room for conviction and try not to dismiss all of it just because some of it is over the top.

Another good book on consumerism is William T. Cavanaugh's book Being Consumed: Economics and Christian Desire. 

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Where's the Fruit?

Are you a disciple of Jesus Christ?

Where is your proof?

Disciples don't get club cards for their key chains. They don't have T-shirts with "Fishers of Men" logos. They don't get special name tags or wrist bands. So how are we known? What evidence do we have?

It turns out Jesus did give us a calling card. He said it so plainly we easily miss it. The proof is in the fruit.

 My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples. 

John 15:8 NASB

Let's be clear, fruit is not a requirement for salvation, but it IS evidence of discipleship. 

Why? 

Because according to John 15 (and like a bazillion other verses) if I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Spirit of God lives in me. The very God who created the universe cannot dwell in a living human being without leaving traces of His presence. Those traces of His presence are called "fruit." 

Sometimes fruit manifests itself through our character:

 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness,self-control; against such things there is no law. 

Galatians 5:22-23

And sometimes the fruit manifests itself through our actions:

For this reason also, since the day we heard of it, we have not ceased to pray for you and to ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God...

Colossians 1:9-10

But the point is, there is fruit. Or there should be. And if there isn't fruit, we should be alarmed.

And maybe we are. But what is our response?

I think that I go into problem solving mode. I read books and go to conferences and scour the web to find Five Quick Fixes for Fruitlessness or Seven Easy Steps to See More Fruit. These "helpful" resources often talk about things that we think we can do to in order to produce fruit in our lives, to prove that we are true disciples. They tell us how to improve bad soil, how to protect ourselves against lousy weather, or how to deal with pest problems. I roll up my sleeves and get to work, missing one very  important point: IT'S NOT MY JOB TO PRODUCE THE FRUIT. 

I'm only called to bear the fruit!  

God produces the fruit. And everything I need in order to bear fruit comes from the vine. If I'm connected to the vine, I WILL bear fruit. If I'm connected to the vine, I can't NOT bear fruit. So I can't blame the soil, the weather, or the bugs. The only reason Jesus gives for fruitlessness is disonnectedness. Therefore the only solution is to abide in Christ.

 I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. 

John 15:5

But me? I would rather be pulling weeds or spraying fertilizer. These things are so much easier to do than just abide.

Why? Because "abiding" is never done. I can never check it off of my checklist, because it has to be lived 24/7/365. We can't achieve it, we can't obtain it, we can't complete it. We can only live it. Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. 

In fact, if I'm not bearing fruit, it is likely because I'm busy doing things that I think will produce fruit and forgetting to abide in Christ. I get impatient with the process, and like a kindergartener who buried a bean in paper cup full of soil, I grow weary with the waiting. 

It's important to pay attention to fruit. Not just to prove we are disciples, but to know if we are abiding. The funny thing is, I'm not sure I even know what it looks like and feels like to abide. I'm better at being busy. I'm learning to abide. I have a long way to go, but here are three ways that I attempt to "abide in Christ" each day. 

1. Silence: I begin every day with 10-20 minutes of silence. I sit still, in the presence of God, and I say nothing. I let my swirling thoughts quiet down, and I wait on the Lord. I don't read anything, I don't have music on, I don't pray, I don't write. I just listen. And whether God speaks or not is less important than the fact that I have spent time with Him. Abiding in very literal sense. 
2. Community: I take time to pray with others. Together, we abide in Christ by reading His word, singing His praises, confessing our sins, and seeking His guidance. For some reason, I used to see abiding as a solitary endeavor, but clearly if we are to do it all the time, then we need to be able to abide in community as well. 
3. Slowing: I'm active and decisive. I like to go fast. In so doing, I often rush ahead of the Spirit, trying to produce fruit. For some of you, you will need to pick up the pace to keep in step with the Spirit. Me? I need to slow down. When I purposefully match my steps to His, then in all that I do, I abide.

All of these are hard for me. And all of these are good for me. And the promise is sure: IF I abide, the fruit is guaranteed. If I abide I can't NOT bear fruit.  And when I bear it, it is so completely holy, so perfect, so pure, that it proves that God lives in me. 

Then I know I'm a disciple.

What fruit are you bearing these days? How do you abide in Christ?  

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Does my work matter?

So it came about when Moses held his hand up, that Israel prevailed, and when he let his hand down, Amalek prevailed. 

Exodus 17:11

Moses stands on top of a hill, observing the battle. He's not in the battle, so to speak, but watching from a safe distance. Joshua is the one who's in the fray, leading the army in the fight. 

But Moses notices that when he raises his hands (in which he is holding the Staff of God), the Israelites dominate, and when he lowers his hands, the Israelites lose. Suddenly Moses is not just a distant oberver, but one who is affecting the outcome of the battle. 

What is going on here? Does God's power to help the Israelites really depend on Moses' stance? If God is, indeed, the omnipotent God of the universe, why in the world would Moses be required to do these hilltop aerobics? 

I've been thinking a lot about this story, wondering what it teaches about God's work and my work. I'm fairly Reformed in my theology, believing that God in sovereign over all; yet, stories like this tell me that God somehow invites, values, and even depends on human participation. 

It's the phrase "depends on" that makes me cringe--that challenges my theology. If God is truly sovereign, then can He depend on His own creation to enact His own will? Not must He, but can He?

Something in me really prefers to think of God as acting outside of and apart from human participation. Life just feels safer that way. I like the theology that lets me believe that everything depends on God and nothing depends on me. This is the only way that things can turn out right, right?

But Moses had to raise His hands.

And when Moses gets tired, God doesn't say, "No problem, Mo! I gotcha covered. Thanks for doing your little bit, but the hand business was just a gimmick to make you feel needed. Take a break, rest your weary arms, and I'll clean up this mess on my own." Moses is not let off the hook, even when the job exceeds his abilities. This is where Aaron and Hur come in.

But Moses’ hands were heavy. Then they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it; and Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side and one on the other. Thus his hands were steady until the sun set.

Exodus 17:12

The task that God gives Moses to do is too hard for Moses to do alone. So he has to get help. And in the end, the Israelites win. 

Why? Because God was with them. And because God worked through them. Time and time, throughout scriptures, we see this same phenomenon: God enacts His will through human participation. He's sovereign, so he doesn't HAVE to do it that way. But He's sovereign, so He CAN do it that way. 

And I think God is still choosing to enact His will through human participation. Which means that the way I spend my life matters. What I do and say matters. The things that seem small and insignificant are impacting lives and winning (or losing) battles. 

God is depending on me.

Dang, that sounds blasphemous for some reason. Why would God depend on creatures that He knows are flawed and broken and weak? Sounds like risky business to me! If I were God...

Yes, if I were God, I would do everything myself. Then I could be sure that things would be done perfectly.

But God, who is perfect, does not seem to need perfection from me. He chooses to depend on my imperfect participation. In fact, messy human participation is an overarching theme in God's great story--from Abraham to Jacob to Moses to Rahab to Ruth to David to Jonah to Peter to Martha to Paul. None of them did God's work perfectly. All of them participated imperfectly. Yet, all of their works have been woven into the story that continues still today.

So as I ponder the story of Moses and the battle of the Amalekites, I'm discovering some things that apply to my life and the way that God is asking me to participate in His work in the world: 

1. The importance of self-awareness: Moses was aware of his stance, and the impact that his stance was having on the situation. Am I aware of my stance in any given situation? Do I pay attention to how that stance is affecting other people or the circumstances in which we find ourselves?
2. The importance of community: Moses was unable to complete his task on his own. It had nothing to do with his willingness or his obedience, he simply did not have the strength he needed. He had to depend on others. When God invites me to participate in His work, do I take a Lone Ranger approach, or do I follow God's lead and choose to depend on others? Do I, like God, eagerly invite the participation of broken people? Will I value participation over perfection?
3. The importance of intercession: Moses held his ground as an intercessor, he didn't run into the battle himself when things looked bleak. I can be tempted to try to get involved in battles that are not mine to fight. Often my role, like Moses', is to watch and pray, not go and fix! This is a place of great faith, believing that God will act in response to my prayer; trusting that holding vigil might be my best contribution to a victory.
4. The importance of praise: At the end of the battle, Moses built an altar, naming it "The Lord is My Banner." Moses did not mistake his own participation for the reason that Israel was victorious. As Moses lifted up God, the Israelites won. The power for victory is only ever present when God is present and lifted up. Can I fully participate in God's work without seeking the glory for the outcome? Do I remember that God is always the perfector? And do I praise Him for every victory?

Moses built an altar and named it TheLord is My Banner. Exodus 17:15

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A Friend of God

I've been spending some time trying to figure out what it means to be a friend of God. I have some idea of what it means to be a God's child, God's servant, God's beloved, and God's ambassador. But lately I've had the sense that God is inviting me to be His friend. And I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea.

To be God's friend would mean that I would have to grow up. Friendship carries a heavier responsibility, and I'm not sure that I can handle it. I much prefer the role of the "damsel in distress" when it comes to God. Friendship feels beyond me. Yet, something about the invitiation is compelling. It seems that God is asking me to discover a new way of interacting with Him, to explore an undiscovered aspect of our relationship. In essence, I think God is asking me to mature in the way that I engage with Him.

It's sort of like the transition I'm going through in parenting my young adult children. I'm still their mom. I'll always be their mom. But it would be rediculous if I still parented them the same way that I did ten years ago. We are making the bumpy move to an adult-adult relationship, and while it's a bit of an awkward dance for the time being, I know we need to keep moving in that direction, because there is nothing for us in the old parent-child relationship. We just can't (and shouldn't) live there forever. While it's silly and downright dangerous for parents to try to be friends with their eight year old children, it's just and silly for a parent to relate to an adult child as if the child were still eight. The relationship changes as the child matures.

Yes. And this is what I think God is saying. He wants to relate to me as an adult child--as a friend. It's time for me to grow up.

But how? What does friendship with God look like? I'm starting my journey to answer that question by studying the life of Abraham--because Abraham is the first person in the Bible that God refers to as His friend (see Isaiah 41:8). I'm particularly paying attention to the things about God and Abraham's relationship that are distinct from the ways a child or servant relationship looks. For example, Abraham obeyed God--but this is something a servant or child  would do, so it doesn't necessarily show how Abraham was God's friend. Abraham also believed God--his faith is legendary. But that, too, is something a child of God does. It is certainly a quality that is present in friendship, but it is not unique to friendship.

So one of the first places I see a friend to friend interaction between God and Abraham is in Genesis chapter 18. Having appeared to Abraham to announce the impending birth of Isaac, God says to Himself, "Should I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?" Reading the rest of the chapter, we quickly discover how God answers His own question--He decided to share His plans to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah with Abraham.

Sharing plans--that is something that friends do. Jesus makes this clear when he says to his disciples in John 15:15, "I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not kow his master's business. Instead I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you."  So Genesis chapter 18 had my attention! God is treating Abraham like a friend by making His business known to Abraham. How will Abraham handle it? What does Abraham do to engage in a friendship with God?

Abraham certianly doesn't say, as a servant might have said, "Good plan, boss! How can I help?" Nor does he whimper like a child, crying, "Oh No! That sounds mean!" Instead, Abraham neogitates with God.

Audacious? Maybe. But Abraham isn't flippant or haughty in his negotiation. He is diplomatic and wise, and God welcomes the dialogue. Imagine the scene.

Abraham came near and said, “Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will You indeed sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from You to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous and the wicked are treated alike. Far be it from You! Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?”

First, I love how the passage begins with "Abraham came near...." When a friend confronts a friend, he doesn't pull back and put up walls, he draws near. He enters in. He says with his body, "I'm with you" even as he says with his words "I don't like your plan." A friend of God comes close.

Second, Abraham appeals to God's character, he reminds God of His own justice. Friends know each other well enough to say, "Your actions don't seem to be congruent with who I know you to be." A friend will ask the hard questions, will risk being rejected for the sake of speaking truth.

Third, Abraham mediates. He intercedes for the the people of Sodom; he intercedes for his nephew, Lot. And this may be the essential element of friendship with God. I think that THIS is perhaps the main reason that God shares His plans with His friends--to invite them to intercede. We see this again with another one of God's friends, Moses. God shares His plan to destroy all of Israel with Moses, and Moses intercedes for Israel. God wants friends who will act as mediators, intercessors, peacemakers.

God welcomed Abraham's plea. God bent to Abraham's request--all the way to agreeing that if just 10 righteous people could be found in Sodom, God would spare the entire city. But God knew that there were no righteous people in Sodom. Not even Lot was worthy of being saved. It was out His compassion for Abraham that God saved Lot (Genesis 19:16). In the end, God's plan stayed the same. Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. But God's justice and compassion were also revealed, and perhaps the decision to save Lot and his family were the results of Abraham's mediation.

This is not to say that I don't believe in the absolute sovereignty of God. It is to suggest that God chooses to enact His perfect will through the prayers of His friends. Perhaps my willingness to stand in the gap--to come near to God, appeal to His character, and mediate for His creation--is exactly what God is looking for in a friend.

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Silence is Golden

I am failing at my goal to blog twice a week. I'm struggling to blog twice a month. But given how many words are spilled onto the web every day, it's hard to imagine that my failure to contribute to the noise could posibly be missed. In fact--it might be appreciated. Yes, "Silence is golden, golden." It's a commodity that seems to have lost its value in our world. If I had any brains, I'd end this post right there.

Yeah, we all knew that wasn't going to happen!

I feel  the need to verbalize what I am learning about shutting up.

In the course of one day, I managed to rudely correct the same person twice. Both times the correction was not over something important or even relevant. The errors were teeny tiny. They were not critical to the information being shared. They need not have had any attention at all directed at them. They should have been overlooked. I should have shut my trap. Silence, while actively listening to the real heart of the speaker, would have been the most loving response.

Me? I interrupted with corrections. I stopped the flow a perfectly engaging story to quibble over non-essentials. Non-essentials that I didn't even really care about. Why? Why did I open my mouth?

I spoke before I thought. I blurted out something without even considering how my interjection would not only be rude, but might also have belittled the speaker. I did it without even recognizing what I had done.

And then I went running.

And while I was running, the two scenes (which happened within a 12 hour span) were replayed in my mind back to back. I saw myself as an outsider looking in--I saw petty, shrill, superior me. Yuck. Sin doesn't look so bad from the inside looking out. But when I see it from the outside looking in, it's repulsive. My heart sank. For the rest of my run, I let myself feel the sadness of God over how I had treated one of His own.

While I quickly repented of my bad behavior, and while I have had the opportunity to ask for forgiveness both from God and from the beautiful young woman I interrupted, I realize that the sin God has revealed to me goes deeper than I'd like to think. This isn't an isolated incident, it's a nasty habit.  A habit from which I want to be healed. In fact, I shudder to think how many of you are nodding your heads as you read, thinking, "Yeah, Jenn, that's been an issue for a while! Are you just now figuring it out?" Yeah. I'm suppose I'm a slow learner.

So once again, for yet another reason, I'm learning to hold my tongue. To ask, "Is it necessary?" before I speak. To consider if my words will build up or tear down before I hammer them out of my mouth. To see the beauty of silence. Yes, much love can be spoken in silence.

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Because You Say So

"Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."

Simon answered, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets."

When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.

Luke 5: 4-6

Sometimes Jesus asks us to do things that defy our intelligence and our experience.

Simon was a fisherman. He knew how to fish, he knew where to fish, and he knew when to fish. He had done everything that he knew to do, but for some reason, on this particular day, it hadn't worked.
Oh well, it was time to mend the nets and call it quits. Surely there'd be fish tomorrow.

Jesus has a different plan. After having comandeered Simon's boat so that he might teach the crowds who were at the beach that morning, he encourages Simon to give it another go.

Now? In  broad daylight? Now? After getting skunked all night? Now? When I'm weary and ready to go home? Really, Jesus? Are you sure?

Simon expressed his doubts. And I imagine Jesus heard them, but he was unmoved. His gaze was certainly resolute, perhaps he raised his eyebrows, and waited. So Simon says, "But because you say so, I will let down the nets."

It didn't make sense. It seemed to be an exercise in futility. And even though Simon was sure it wouldn't work, he did what Jesus asked. Because Jesus said so.

It's easy to do what Jesus asks when it makes sense. It's easy to obey when we understand why. It's easy to follow a Jesus who leads us in predictable patterns. It's easy to trust a Savior who respects human logic. But I'm not sure this is the picture of Jesus that the Bible paints.

Jesus asks lame men to get up and walk.

Jesus tells Peter to get out of the boat.

Jesus allows a prostitue to wash his feet with her hair.

Jesus takes time away from a busy ministry schedule to interact with little children.

Jesus calls Judas his friend.

Jesus dines with sinners.

Jesus beckons Lazarus from the grave.

Jesus rarely does what is "normal" or "expected." And he invites his followers to walk as he walked.

To notice the broken people. To stoop to the lowly. To befreind the betrayers. To speak life to the dying. To cast out our nets where no fish have been found, because he says so.

So here's the question: "What is Jesus saying?"

What is he saying to you, today? What is he asking you to do? Does it seem absurd? Crazy? Irresponsible? Unnecessary? And will you do it, just because he says so?

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Selah: My word for 2016

I live life at a pretty fast clip. And I like it like that.

I was made to run hard and fast--I am a high energy (read: driven), high capacity (read: achiever) person who likes to have a full agenda and fall into bed dead tired every single night. This is my M.O. This is my norm. And mostly, it works for me.

But as 2015 drew to a close, I found myself longing for...less. A strange longing for a glutton like myself. And so I began a conversation with the Lord about this desire. Am I getting soft? Lazy? Old? Complacent? Or am I, maybe, looking to match my stride to His? Am I maturing to the place where I care more about the direction of my steps than their number or pace? Might I be heeding a call I've long ignored?

Photo Credit: Luc !

I do have some healthy patterns in place when it comes to rest. Each week, I enter into a day of Sabbath with the same enthusiasm that I give to my work. I have learned the unforced rhythms of grace when it comes to Sabbath. But I have a long way to go when it comes to weaving rest into the way that I work. That is to say, I trust too much in me, and not enough in Jesus. And so I sense a call to learn to live in that place of rest. To push the "pause" button more and more often so that I allow dependency to be my new M.O. My default has been to run ahead...I want to recalibrate to a new default. A default of Selah.

Photo Credit: Luc !

Selah is a Hebrew word found in the Psalms, though it is not a part of the Psalms. It is a direction, helping readers know how to read the Psalm. It means, "pause for reflection." In other words, Selah says, "You just read something profound! Don't just breeze through it! Stop and think about that for a minute. Take it in. Savor it. Linger there."

I think my days are full of unappreciated God-moments. Beauty missed because of busyness. God is calling me to a year (a life?) of Selah.

Photo Credit: Luc !

Selah is my word for 2016. I want to be intentional over the next year to practice Selah, and I think that it will involve:

Stillness--choosing to STOP moving for a few moments each day. To be still and know the He is God.
Expectation--believing that God has something He wants me to notice, and looking for it.
Listening--allowing quiet spaces and silence so that I might hear from God and others.
Attentiveness--observing the world around me with care and interest.
Hope--anticipating a new experience of God's goodness.

Now to put the practical pieces out there--this is where the rubber meets the road. These are the specifics to which I want to be accountable:

1. I want to implement a daily examen--a time each evening before bed when I will take 10-15 minutes to reflect on the day. This is something I have wanted to do for years, but have never implemented. I believe now is the time.
2. I will use my blog as a means of recording what God is showing me through my attempt to live into restfulness. Each week, there will be a "Selah" post. It might be wordless. 
3. We did not take a single vacation in 2015. We did not spend enough time together as a family. We are going to put a family vacation for 2016 on the calandar (and in the budget) by the end of January. 
4. Furlough: we have been on the field for over 5 years and we have not yet had a furlough. This is a HUGE faith issue for me! It is so hard to leave on-going ministries and it feels like a major interruption to life and projects! But both David and I feel like we want and need to take some time to reconnect with our base, to see our loved ones in the States, and to take a break. I don't yet know how or when, but we sense that God is asking us to take a short (three month?) "Selah" from ministry in 2016. We hope to begin planning this time soon. Pray that we will find the right time and place for this "pause."

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He Saved Me

Ezekiel 16 is not exactly a G-rated chapter of the Bible. In fact, it's rather scandalous. But for some reason, I find myself drawn to it. I'm both inspired and repulsed by the images. I'm both challenged and comforted by the message. It reveals something of God that I think I've watered-down.

I'm starting to realize that we might not actually like God as He really is, so we clean Him up for church. We pick and choose the images of God we want to keep, and we ignore the rest.

Gentle Shepherd--Good! Keep it. Paint it. Hang it in the nursery!

Jealous Lover--Bad! Skip over those verses.

Faithful Father--Good! Use it. Sing it. Write books about it!

Angry Ruler--Questionable. Keep it in the Old Testament. Gloss over it.

Just Judge--Good! Preach it. Exegite it! Use it to evangelize!

Proponent of Social Justice--Sketchy! Too focused on the world. We care more about saving souls.

And while it's a struggle to understand what God says about Himself, it's almost impossible to accept what God says to be true about US. About ME. The tuth is too shocking, too harsh, too raw, so we sugar-coat it to make it more palatable. And again, we pick and choose the images.

Lost sheep--Good! Sweet and fluffy. Poor thing just wandered off. He couldn't really help it.

Cheap Whore--Yeah, that's not so pretty. Let's not talk about that one.

Salt of the Earth--Good! Yes, we are change agents, we add spice, we purify the earth. Yea, us!

Enemies of God--Well, that seems a bit harsh...

Children of God--Good! I like it. One, big, happy, family.

Wretches--I'm not sure that's fair. I'm not perfect, but I'm no wretch!

Ezekiel 16 begins with Jerusalem being represented as an abandoned baby:

4 As for your birth, on the day you were born your navel cord was not cut, nor were you washed with water for cleansing; you were not rubbed with salt or even wrapped in cloths. 5 No eye looked with pity on you to do any of these things for you, to have compassion on you. Rather you were thrown out into the open field, for you were abhorred on the day you were born.

Last year in my Old Testament class I learned that the ancient Hebrew custom was that a baby was not considered "alive" until the father chose to adopt it. If the father rejected a baby, the baby could be left in an open field to die. So the Lord is telling Jerusalem that it was not even considered worthy of life from its very birth. But then he goes on to say this:

6 “When I passed by you and saw you squirming in your blood, I said to you while you were in your blood, ‘Live!’ Yes, I said to you while you were in your blood, ‘Live!’" 

God, in this admonition to "live" has adopted Jerusalem. The baby does nothing to earn this right of life. The baby is a mess. "Abhorred." Squirming in its own blood. Until God gives it life.

God bends down. God has compassion. God shows mercy. God loves and cares for the unwanted child. God bestows every possible blessing. And still, God is rejected.

This is the human condition. This is the reality of our corruption. Our sinfulness is not something that we do every now and then, it's not a blemish on our skin. Our sinfulness is woven through our nature, apart from Christ it is the essence of who we are.

When we don't get that--when we don't grasp the depths of our depravity, we miss out on being able to appreciate the enormity of the grace that we have been given. We love when Paul talks about being transformed from "glory to glory." We forget that John wrote about receiving from Christ "grace upon grace."

Over and over we are told not to forget who we were before we met Jesus. What we are apart from grace. And this rememberence is not meant to shame us. It is meant to hold us. To hold us in that place of awe for the God who stooped down "while we were in our blood"..."while we were yet sinners." For the one who clothed us in His righteousness, because even our very best is like "filthy rags."

The fact is, we want to be worthy. I want to be worthy. I want to be a child of God because I'm lovable. Because I'm cute. Because I'm good. I don't want to think of myself as a discarded baby. I want to think of myself as somehow, in at least some small way, worth being saved. Can't I please play some part in my own salvation?

Does the bloody baby play a role?

When I was replete with sin, as I lay squirming in my own blood, I still bore the image of God. God has graced humanity with His image, and by giving us His own reflection, He placed in each human being an innate worthiness. A worthiness rooted in Himself.

So while I don't play a role in my own salvation, I know that He deems me worthy. So worthy that He sent His only son. In Jesus, the father says, "Live!"

And with that Word of Life, I am recreated. The old, bloody baby is gone, the new has come. But as I live into that reality of who I am in Christ, I stand in awe of the one who rescued me from certain death. Not by works of righteouness that I have done, but according to His mercy, He has saved me.

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I'm the Problem

Another shooting. Another tragedy. And from what I can observe, those who have national level platforms are not turning towards each other in desperation, aching to find a solution. Instead they've quickly set up their camps and and have started lobbing bombs of their own.

And we wonder why there is so much violence?

When will we finally turn towards? When will we stop pointing fingers and blaming? Where are the leaders that refuse to accuse everyone else of causing the problem? Where are the ones who will finally stand up and say, "I'm the problem! It's my fault!"

Where are the Daniels and Nehemiahs? Who will tear their clothes in repentance, confessing their sins and the sins of the nation?

No one?

Really?

As long as we see the problem as "out there" instead of "in here," we will not find peace.

Years ago the London Times ran an essay contest where they asked people to respond to the question, "What's Wrong With the World?" The great theologian G. K. Chesterton wrote this famous response:

Dear Sir,

I am.

Yours,
G. K. Chesterton

I see many Christians postulating that the problem is that our country has turned its back on God, that we as a nation have turned away from him. I think that still makes it someone else's problem. With this approach the Christian takes exception--everyone else, the worldly, humanistic Americans are at fault. This is far from the humble reply of Chesterton, who owned the sickness himself.

The great leader Nehemiah, when he hears that Jerusalem lies in ruin, doesn't point fingers and say, "Why can't those Israelites get it together?" No. He counts himself among the guilty, praying, "I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father's family, have committed against you."

Including myself. Nehemiah wasn't even living in Jerusalem at the time, and yet, he counted himself among the guilty.

Church, this is not the time to stand up and point fingers. Praying for our country IS a valuable thing. But God has been clear since the beginning of time that faith without works is dead. Nehemiah prayed, and then he went to Jerusalem to build a wall. What else will we do?

Psalm 34:14 says to "seek peace and pursue it."

Hint: Neither insisting on the importance of gun rights nor proclaiming the need for greater gun control are means of seeking peace and pursuing it. They are exactly the opposite. When we cannot humble ourselves enough to come together to find a solution we are not seeking peace, we are prolonging violence.

The old hymn says, "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me."

Who will be bold enough to question their own stance? Who will dare to imagine that their current point of view might be flawed? Who might be creative enough to imagine that the solution is beyond the current set of proposed possibilities? Who is courageous enough to turn towards those who have an opposing view and listen, not with the intent to refute, but with the desire to learn?  If we all continue to believe that our current way of thinking is holy, right, and good, then we will, each one, miss the conviction of the Holy Spirit that might reveal where we are wrong. And we are wrong. Every one of us.

What is wrong with the world?

I am.

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About that...

There is this great story in the Gospel of Luke when the disciples are traveling with Jesus to Jerusalem. It is getting dark, and Jesus sends a few of them ahead to a Samaritan village where they plan to spend the night. But it turns out the Samaritans didn't want to play host to Jesus. The Bible tells us, "the people there did not welcome him."

The disciples are angry, indignant, and self-righteous at this turn of events. They even offer to "call down fire from heaven to destroy them." The disciples feel threatened by the Samaritan's rejection, but Jesus? Not so much. In fact, Jesus is more bothered by his disciples' response to the rejection. The disciples want to rebuke the Samaritans, but Jesus rebukes his disciples.

You see, Jesus never expected the world to love and accept him. Rejection doesn't surprise him. It doesn't even offend him. It's us who take offense. And in our offense, we often sin. We miss the mark. We miss the point.

Do you get where I'm going with this? Yes, I'm talking about the stupid cups. And all of the other things over which American Christians will agonize in the coming months. In trying to make Jesus the point of the season, how very often we miss the point ourselves. 

We have got to stop acting offended or surprised when earthly powers, businesses, and governments don't welcome Jesus. Heck, he was born in a barn to show us that he was going to be an outsider from the get-go! It's not our job to make the world love him. It's our job to love a world that hates him. It's not our job to call down fire from heaven every time we think that Jesus has been forced out of the picture. It's our job to offer grace and mercy to bring Jesus back into the picture.

Think before you post, people. Ask yourself, "Am I calling down fire from heaven?" And if you are, remember how Jesus responded to his disciples when they did the exact same thing. 

 When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” But Jesus turned and rebuked them.

Luke 9: 54-55

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Out of Balance

Yesterday I learned something a little disturbing about myself: I'm lopsided.

An x-ray revealed that the cause of my hip pain is a 1.3 cm difference between the height of my hips, which may in fact be related to a car accident that I was in over a year ago. While trying to avoid hitting the car that suddenly stopped in front of me, while my right foot was firmly tensed up pressing the brake pedal, I was rear-ended. My hip took the shock, and got a little boost in height.

I need to go back to my doctor to discuss treatment options, but the radiologist suggested that it could be as simple as putting inserts in my left shoe to even me out. This would then relieve the extra pressure that my hip is bearing trying to compensate for the imbalance, and theoretically, the soreness should go away.

Isn't it interesting how a small problem can create intense discomfort? How a hidden injury can go unnoticed for months, and then seemingly suddenly become a major pain? Our bodies aren't the only things in our lives that must be balanced to be healthy. So as I sit here (probably at a slant!) I find myself wondering if I might be out of balance in other ways.

When work overtakes me and rest escapes me, I get out of balance.

When playing golf on the PlayStation replaces my daily walk, I get out of balance.

When FaceBook connections get more attention than family relations, I get out of balance.

When worries about moving occupy more of my thinking than the joys in the moment, I get out of balance.

When expenditures surpass income, I get out of balance.

When administrative tasks absorb the time that should be given to creative endeavors, I get out of balance.

Summer is a great time to take an X-Ray of my life to see where I may need to make some minor adjustments. Most committments are on "pause" and so I have the opportunity to evaluate where I need to put more weight, and where I need to lighten the load. It also gives me a chance to consider where I have had a sudden jolt that may have produced a hidden injury and caused me to compensate in unhealthy ways.

David and I usually take time around our anniversary (August 22) to do that very thing. It is a time of reflection and recalibration so that we can make needed course corrections for the coming year. David makes a chart (of course he does!) that helps us to identify our major role/activities and take stock of where we are and where we would like to be. We look at both individual pursuits and things that we do together. We actually give ourselves and each other "grades" in each arena so that we can easily see where things are going well and where we need to do some work.

Therefore, strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed. Hebrews 12: 12-13

What do you do to "x-ray" your life and make needed adjustments so that you don't get out of balance?

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Dog Fight

The religious men were right.

They caught a woman in the act of adultery, and they brought her to Jesus looking for a pronouncement of judgement. Just in case Jesus had forgotten the rules, they quoted their Bibles:

"In the law Moses commanded us to stone to death such women."

The religious pick up rocks, but Jesus begins to write in the dirt.

His quiet response unnerves them. Can't this so-called prophet see that Israel is going to hell in a handbasket? So they keep on pressing. Each of them making a case against this woman with the hashtag #Truthwins.

But Jesus didn't need reminding of the truth. There, in the public arena, Jesus makes the poignant choice to hold his tongue.

And the crowd closes in. They have the right to thow their stones, and they want Jesus to validate their actions. But Jesus doesn't give them what they want. When he senses his silence is not being heard, he finally speaks. But his  judgement is not against the woman. Instead, he simply says, "Whoever among you is guiltless may be the first to throw a stone at her."

And he went back to writing in the dirt.

One by one, beginning with the oldest, the people began to drop their stones.

#Lovewins?

Not so fast. Once the crowd had gone, Jesus kindly confronts the woman whose life he just saved from the religious right. There is no condemnation, but there is a word of loving truth. "Go and sin no more."

As I watch the debate over gay marraige unfold in the new public arena of social media, I wonder if we don't have a lesson to learn from Jesus.

Many seem to believe that speaking out against sin in the public arena  is a demonstration of faith. But Jesus refused to get into the fray EXCEPT to protect the sinner who was being attacked.

Others seem to think that there is never a time to pass judgement or confront sin. But Jesus refused to turn a blind eye to sin. The difference is that Jesus confronted sin personally, after having demonstrated a love that put his own reputation at risk.

In fact, in the public arena, Jesus was much more likely to confront the religious for their sin, than those who had no knowledge of the law. We seem to get it backwards. We confront sin in the pulic arena and coddle it in the church. I've heard very few sermons in the church on greed, even though the average Christian gives less than 2% of their income. I've only ever heard one sermon on gluttony, even though the church is full of people who are in bondage to that sin.

So we keep pretty quiet about sin in the church and get vocal about it in the world.

And I can't even imagine how it must grieve our Father in heaven that we have thrown Truth and Love in the ring to fight it out like dogs. Then we go to the public arena and cheer for our dog with hashtags.

Both Truth and Love belong to Jesus, and one can't win at the expense of the other. Before we start declaring who wins, maybe we better asks who loses. 

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I am the Lame Man

I have been Miriam, leading the people of God in the praises of the Most High. I have danced and sung before the Lord with the abandon of David. I have been stunned and silenced like Isaiah. 

I have been Peter, impetuous but sincere in my devotion to Jesus. I have jumped out of the boat just to be near to him. I have preached with the conviction of Paul, passionate to proclaim freedom to prisoners. I have been John the Beloved, convinced beyond a doubt of my Savior's love for me.

I have been the father of the mute boy, wavering in my faith but desperate in my need. I have thirsted after living water with the woman at the well, longing for someone to just tell me who I am. I have been the bleeding woman, desperately reaching to touch the hem of His garment.

I have been Mary, breaking my vase of expensive perfume to show my Lord how deeply I love him. I have been raised from death and breathed life anew like Lazarus. I have been the man born blind, given sight so that the work of God might be revealed through me.

But today I am the lame man, broken and helpless. Dead weight on my mat, my friends are carrying me. I am the burden that others are bearing, the one who needs healing but is helpless to seek it out for myself. My friends climb the stairs to the roof, dirty their hands to make a way for me draw near to Jesus. They gain nothing for themselves, but by their acts of love, I am brought to the feet of the healer. And there I find hope. 

There are times when I resist such tender expressions of kindness, not wanting to "impose" on friends. No one likes to be needy. And then there are times when I am painfully aware of the reality of my own neediness. I not only need healing, I need help getting to the healer. And so I lay back on my mat,  while tears of gratitude flow from my eyes for those who will bear my weight. 

And what is the first thing the healer says?

"Your sins are forgiven."

Yes. There before the crowd of strangers and in the intimacy of my dearest friends I am called out. The reality of my sickness revealed for what it really is, I am crippled inside and out. And yet, with those words, the burden is lighter. Yes, I feel better already. But I'm still lame. Awaiting the secondary healing that will serve as proof of the primary. In the Bible these two healings are just moments apart, but I find that is not how it always happens for me.

And so I rejoice. My sins are forgiven! 

And I wait for the healer's next move. 

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How God Rescued My Family

Last week I told you how we have been ruined--how God has so challenged and changed us that we will never, ever, be the same. Much of the ruining came through struggle, and I mentioned that we have wounds that may never heal. This statement was shocking to some, yet, I do not see it as entirely negative. Even the resurrected Christ, though fully alive, still bore scars on his hands and his side. To be ruined is to be just a little bit more like Jesus, and as one of my favorite cousins remarked, "I pray that I be ruined for Christ also. Nothing else satisfies." Indeed. Nothing else. 

But in many ways, ruining us was also a way of rescuing us. He has not rescued us from embarrassment or sickness or financial ruin. All of those he has allowed us to bear to some extent. Instead he has rescued us from complacency, from superficiality, and from autonomy. He has rescued us from the rat race, from keeping up with the Joneses, and from envy. He has rescued us from ourselves. And he keeps on rescuing us as we follow him each day.

This rescue has little to do with moving to France, though that happened to be part of the rescue mission that God used in our lives. God’s rescue has much to do with surrender, and being willing to leave those things in life that appear to be friendly but in reality, are hostile. Hostile to God’s kingdom, hostile to God’s people, and hostile to God’s plan. They’re subtle little buggers, and probably take a different form for each person, but I’m sure they exist in your life, too.

How can you tell if you have dangerous liaisons? Do you hold anything back from God? If you do, that thing has a hold on you and you need to be freed from it. Do you cherish self-righteousness or indignation? I know I do. But God is showing me that these emotional pacifiers are wicked cancers from which I need to be rescued. Do you live like a Lone Ranger, taking care of yourself and proud of it?  This type of independence is at odds with God’s call to interdependence. You need a rescue.

I loved my autonomy, until God rescued me by placing me in a community. I was driven to achieve personal success, until God showed me that building his kingdom was much more enjoyable than building my kingdom. I was firm in my understanding of things like politics and economics, until God rescued me from my own world-view to show me his world-view. Now I’m more confused than ever about how to vote, but more sure than ever about how to live.

God rescues us because we can’t rescue ourselves. But his way of rescue rarely looks like the primrose path. The way out of our own lost-ness is often a way that is fraught with thorns and mud puddles. The rescue wagon appears unsafe, and many will call you crazy for getting on board. But in the upside-down kingdom of the servant king, I promise that his rescue is worth it. 

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