Category: my journey

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Another Lesson Learned

This morning, after our gathering, we were waiting for some food to be delivered. I was on the front porch of the house talking with a friend. Partway through the conversation the food that we were waiting for arrived, and help was needed to carry it into the house. Without thinking, I immediately left in the middle of the conversation to help. There were others there who could have helped, so it wasn’t like it was absolutely necessary for me to get involved. A bit later I thought about that and realized that I had abandoned my friend right in the middle of our conversation, and I wondered why I did that.

Part of it could be that I’m not a great conversationalist, so it was more comfortable for me to help out in a way that didn’t require talking. That’s something I need to continue working on, although I am better than I was. Part of it could be that I feel like I have a reputation as a servant to uphold. That is one of my gifts, and I do feel more comfortable behind the scenes than out front, so of course I don’t want people to think I’m being lazy. Regardless of the reason, I should have stayed on the porch and not abandoned my friend.

I think that a bigger reason is something that most of us deal with in our walk with Jesus, and that is the tendency to feel that we have to do something all the time rather than just be in the moment. I know that I sometimes will let things to do draw me away from spending time with the Father or with my brothers and sisters. A lot of evangelicalism, especially the fundamentalist branch, is built on “doing something for God.” Great churches are built on the efforts of the leaders and members. Christians are made to feel guilty if they aren’t involved in one of the programs of their church. Pastors burn out because they feel that it’s their job to build a great work. In the midst of all this busyness, churches find that their members are not being discipled and are not growing in their walk with God.

The thing is, many of the programs and things that we try to do for God can be done without the Holy Spirit. Huge, “successful” churches and ministries can be built completely on human effort. Some of those come tumbling down, some get even bigger, but they really don’t have much impact for the Kingdom. We bemoan the fact that people aren’t knocking down the doors of our churches, and young people are leaving as soon as they are able. I think one reason is that we have presented a gospel that claims to be all about grace and a relationship with God, but is really about working. Not for salvation, but to please God.

God invites us into relationship with him. He tells us to be still and know that he is God. God is our Father, not our employer. It is true that we serve God and others. It is true that there are things that each one of us is called to do. But, do we do them in our own strength or in the power of the Spirit coming from just being in a close relationship with the Father? It is out of that relationship that we walk in God’s love through our day-to-day. It is in that relationship that we learn the Father’s heart and find out where he is working so that we can join in. The closer we draw to our Father, the more sensitive we will be to his agenda, and the more we may realize that we need to let our agenda go. Our efforts will be to join God’s work rather than trying to get him to bless ours.

Joining in God’s work might just mean that we continue a conversation on the front porch and let someone else help with the other stuff.

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Praying in Faith? Part 2

I’ve come to some conclusions about this whole thing of praying in faith. One of the lessons God taught me during my time in the desert was that he wanted me to place my faith in him rather than in the things I thought he would do. That seemed to be the crux of the matter in how I prayed, and even what I prayed for. Not that God couldn’t or wouldn’t answer my prayers, but that my trust must be in my loving Father no matter what.

As the past four years have gone by that lesson is one that seemed to have faded a bit. Not totally forgotten, but I did need a reminder. In my case the answer to the question of praying in faith is to continue praying for the situation, to even desire it immensely, and then to trust the Father to simply do the right thing. I remember that my identity is that of a child of God, a brother and co heir with the King of Kings, and not in a job or title. Whether I do a certain thing or not, I am beloved of the Creator of the universe. It doesn’t get any better than that.

My faith is in the God who loves me, no matter what. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

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Praying in Faith?

I have a hard time praying in faith. To be honest, I’m not totally sure what that means. I’ve heard that praying in faith means believing and saying that God is going to give you what you pray for, and that you simply don’t have enough faith if you don’t get it. I’ve heard that we must pray with the faith that God’s will is going to be done, regardless of the answer.

I’ve prayed for situations where I was certain God was going to answer in a certain way, and he didn’t. In some, the answer was a clear “No.” One of those times, I visualized a certain thing as a mountain and told it to move, fully expecting my desire to happen. When the “mountain” remained in its place, my faith was damaged. It was months before I could pray at all, and was an even longer time before I prayed for any of my concerns. I could pray for others, but I felt like God just was not going to answer my prayers for myself. If I had stopped to think about it, I probably would have said I was drifting close to fatalism. Over time, I came to the point where I could pray for myself. Maybe I didn’t (don’t) have enough faith. Maybe I was asking with a wrong motive. Maybe my faith was misplaced. (that’s certainly been the case before)

All this musing has come about because there is a a particular thing that I really want God to do. There is a job that I’ve heard will come open. It actually would be more than just a job for me. It is something that will fit my passion, skills, and experience. It will allow me the opportunity to once again be involved in discipleship through athletics. Through a number of things that have transpired over the last two years, the timing seems right. It seems like the perfect situation. So, I am praying that God will be gracious and grant me this job.

The question remains. How do I pray in faith? How do I balance my deep desire and a trust that my Father will do what is best? Right now my prevailing attitude is, “Lord I believe. Help my unbelief.” Maybe that’s enough.

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Pursuing the Virtuous Life

One of the things I learned during my days as a teacher in fundamentalist Christian education was the fact that many of America’s founding fathers had lists of virtues or rules of behavior that were good things for the students to know and emulate. Ben Franklin had a list of thirteen, while George Washington had one hundred ten rules to follow. All in all the rules and lists are not bad things for people to check out and learn from. We obviously could use more civility and manners in today’s society.

The problem comes when we try to make ourselves virtuous by following a list of rules. Ben Franklin realized that while he had become a better person in many ways, he had not reached the state of moral perfection that he hoped to attain. Many churches preach, and many people believe, that following the dictates of their church or a set of rules from a particular group will help you be “right with God.” Many other churches who don’t have a long list of “standards” still preach steps to be closer to God, or any number of things you can do to be a better Christian. This kind of thinking, while it may make life a bit better, is nothing more than man’s attempt to do what only God can do.

What is forgotten in all the lists to follow is grace. Grace is the word that Christians use when they are talking about salvation. They are correct; we are saved by grace, not by anything we do. What is so often neglected is that we also live and grow by grace. As God’s children, there is nothing we can do to make him love us less. We can not tear ourselves away from God’s grace and love. It is also true that there is nothing we can do that will make God love us any more. We cannot add to the Father’s grace and love toward us. I love my son and daughter unconditionally. They cannot do anything that is going to make me stop loving them, and they do not have to do anything to earn my love. So it is with God. He loves us, period.

As we learn to accept and rest in that love it grows in us and our love for God and for others grows. The way we grow in the Father’s love is by spending time with him, seeing each day as an opportunity to be guided and shaped by the Spirit. We learn about the Father by looking at the Son, by immersing ourselves in the Gospels and seeing Jesus as he really is. The first disciples spent three years with the Master, eating and drinking with him , traveling with him, hearing his teachings and seeing how he lived those teachings out. After that, they were given the Holy Spirit and went out and turned the world upside down. We have the account of Jesus’ life and teachings, and we have the same Holy Spirit to guide us and empower us to become like Jesus.

Our lives do not hang on man-made rules or anything else that comes from our own efforts. We can become better people, but the Father’s goal is for us to become like Christ. That can only come from the grace of God working in our lives through the Spirit. It happens because God loves us. Rest in that love. Don’t try to be a virtuous person. Instead, learn from Jesus and let the Spirit teach you. Trust in the fact that the Father is shaping you into the image of Jesus. As the old hymn says, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of his glory and grace.”

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Lessons Learned During Recovery 2

I am not going to write about how I’m such a humble person. Only Moses could get away with that. Beside the fact that I’m nowhere near being in Moses’ league, I also know how much I struggle with pride. I’m probably like most red-blooded American men in that regard. I like being the one to give help, but I’m fine doing things without it, thank you very much. I also feel uncomfortable with what I see as “putting people out.”

Hernia surgery changed that. When I awakened back in the room, I was a pretty helpless individual. When I had to get up to go to the restroom, I needed help to sit up. I also could not stand or walk without Jan holding one of my arms to steady me. As we left the next day, I needed assistance to get into, and out of the truck.

That first week of recovery was on of almost total dependence on others. Someone else went outside to get the paper. Someone else fed the dog. Someone else took care of things that I normally take care of. Along with that, I required help doing such simple tasks as washing and drying my feet, and putting on socks. Believe me, for someone who likes to be able to do it myself, it was hard, even though I knew that I needed that help.

The culmination came when we went to our church’s Sunday gathering. As we shuffled into the room, one of the young men and his girlfriend were asked to give up their spots on the couch for me. Not by me, you understand. Remember, I’m too proud to ask anyone to do that. 🙂 While I appreciate their willingness to let me sit there, I felt bad about it. I went back to work full day on Tuesday (forgetting the lesson about patience), and began to drag a chair to my morning duty spot. The teacher who does that duty with me asked if he could get that for me. I seriously thought about telling him that I was good, that I could get it. But I didn’t. I let him carry it.

I think one of the problems with the Church here in the United States is our individualistic mindset. We have bought into the American ideal of the tough, independent loner, who doesn’t need any help. Over the years, the idea has developed that salvation is strictly an individual, personal thing. Along with the fear of being judged if we drop our masks and admit our need, those things have produced a Church that is disjointed and week. This is a far cry from the picture we find in the New Testament of the Church as a body.

The past two weeks have taught me how important each part is in the function of the physical body. In the church, we also need each part. Everyone is important to the function of the body.
I’ve also learned that it’s okay to ask for help, that no one is going to think any less of me if I can’t do certain things by myself (at least no one who matters). It’s not an easy lesson to learn, and I’ll probably have to be reminded more than a few times.

We need each other. Jesus said that the world will know that we are his disciples by our love for each other. It is hard for that love to happen if we continue to try and convince ourselves, and others, that we can go it alone. Let us consider how we can meet the needs of those around us, as well as let our own needs be known.

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Lessons Learned During Recovery

I’m not exactly a patient person. In some situations I can be, but when it comes to going places and doing things, I want it done right now. In my track days I was a sprinter, and I still have to remind myself to not be in such a hurry when I’m driving somewhere.

Last week, things came to a screeching halt. After spending a couple of hours in surgery, and a few more in recovery, I was wheeled to a room for the night. When you’re in the hospital recovering from surgery, you can not be in a hurry. The schedule doesn’t revolve around you, so a good bit of the time is spent waiting. Waiting for something to drink, waiting for medicine, waiting for the nurse to change the IV bag so it stops beeping. And of course, waiting all day for the surgeon to see you and release you to go home. Add to that, 30 minutes waiting for a wheelchair to take you to the car.

After getting out of the truck at home, it was then my responsibility to get myself around, with help from Jan. So, I hopped out of the truck, and ran up to the front door. Wrong! On the old Carol Burnette Show, Tim Conway played a character. He was a little old man who moved excruciatingly slow, to great laughter. That was me, only there was no laughter. It wasn’t a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. It was a matter of putting one foot slightly ahead of the other, until we eventually reached the front door.

Everything has been slow ever since. Sitting down, laying down, getting up, walking, showering, dressing have all been at a pace that would make a dawdling child proud. I’ve been back at work for two days, and everything I do there is in slow motion. I spend a lot of time sitting in one place, and any movement must be done slowly. Thankfully, our dog has understood, and hasn’t been as playful with me as he usually is.

This week has given me a lot of time to read and reflect. It’s good to do that from time to time. Our lives get filled up with so much activity. We rush from place to place, from event to event. Our relationships with other people get crowded out, or simply left in the dust as we rush down the road. It’s easy for us to let our relationship with God fall victim to the hustle and bustle of our day-to-day. We give the Father a few hurried minutes in the morning, or a tired nod in the evening. We go through the day checking things off our to-do list, sometimes even including God.

We forget that we have a relationship with the Father. Any relationship suffers when either party hurries too quickly through life and leaves the other behind. Jesus called his disciples to coma apart and rest. The three years they spent together were at a pace that would drive most of us crazy. The idea was for the disciples to just be with Jesus. Through spending time with the Master, they would learn his teachings,and would learn to be like him.

Sometimes we need to “be still” and simply know that God is God. That’s hard to do, unless something happens, like surgery, to slow us down. Living a life that is in tune to the rhythms of the Father, rather than the noise of the world around us goes against what we are told by that world. Sometimes it even is contrary to what we are told in the church. It is counter-cultural, but that is what we are called to be.

In a couple of weeks, when I have recovered to the point where I can get around normally, I hope I remember to take things a bit slower, being sensitive to the Spirit.

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A Milestone?

Yesterday was my 300th post on this blog. I had posted a few thoughts on xanga and myspace before, but a little over two years ago I decided to begin writing on this blog.

It’s been an interesting 26 months. I’ve gone from being part of a group that was trying to “modernize” a traditional, conservative church to being a part of a fellowship that meets in a bagel shop. I now see the local assembly as a part of the wider body of Christ that meets for fellowship and building each other up. Those meetings may or may not take place at a particular place or at a particular time. There are a number of other areas, such as leadership and church finances, where my thinking has changed. I’ve also become convinced that there is no one right way to “do church,” and I am much more willing to extend grace to others who don’t see things the same way.

Probably the greatest thing that has changed in the past two years is the growing importance of grace in my life. I can’t think of anything that has had the impact of realizing that my Father loves me, no matter what. Not only does he love me, but he also likes me and delights in me. All of this is not dependent on what I do or don’t do. It’s all because of God’s grace. That grace causes me to try and treat everyone with grace. I don’t do it very well at times, but it is a motivator in my life.

I enjoy writing. I enjoy putting my thoughts out into cyberspace and receiving feedback from readers. I don’t expect to ever be on anyone’s top ten blogger list, but that’s okay. I’ll continue to write, and a few folks will continue to read. If anyone happens to be blessed by it, so much the better.

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Reflections on Lent

Last Wednesday was the first day of Lent. Ash Wednesday is celebrated by Christians around the world with a service that includes the placing of ashes on the forehead of the worshippers. The ashes are to remind that we are made from dust, and to dust we will return. That is one part of the Lenten observance that I have not yet participated in, as I have only been observing Lent for the last three years. In the tradition in which I grew up, Lent (like most of the church calendar) was not even on our radar. We celebrated Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Easter. I had a vague notion that other days were observed in other traditions, but we were taught that those days were not important. So, I’m a bit late to the keeping of the church calendar, and still learning.

As I go through the Lenten period, I am struck by the fact that our bodies are formed from the dust of the ground, and to that dust they will return. Because of the brokenness of Creation, we face the inevitable decay of our physical selves. Anyone middle-aged man who has tried to compete in sports at the same level he did when he was in his twenties can attest to that. At some point our bodies will wear out and no longer be useful to us. When they are then placed in the ground, they will return to the dust from which they came. As we look around us, we see that decay in every part of our world. Ash Wednesday and Lent are good reminders that we are broken and in need of a savior.

Thankfully, that is not the end of the story. During this time, we take a good hard look at our humanity and our brokenness, but we also look ahead to the time when our Savior will return and will restore Creation. We look forward to the resurrection and the Kingdom of God coming in all its fullness. When I think about Ash Wednesday, and the symbolism of the ashes on the forehead, I think of the song, “Beauty Will Rise.” In that song Steven Curtis Chapman sings,

“Out of these ashes… beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes…beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning…
in the morning

…This is our hope.
This is the promise.
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that’s been made
out of the ashes…”

As we go through this season of Lent, contemplating our sinfulness and our need of a redeemer, let us remember that we do have a Savior who has made us a new creation, and who will one day make all things new.
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Too Comfortable With Jesus?

In Mark 6, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue in his hometown. The people are amazed at his teaching and wisdom. Matthew 13 tells us that his neighbors also were amazed at his miracles. They asked how Jesus got all this wisdom and power. After all, this was the same man who had grown up in their town. They knew his family. He had played with their children. Jesus had probably done work for them. They knew Jesus, or at least they thought they did. He was one of them. They were comfortable with this neighbor.

According to the text, thinking that they had Jesus all figured out caused a lack of faith in them. They couldn’t believe that this small town boy could do the miracles he was doing or teach with the wisdom he was showing. Even with the evidence staring them in the face, their familiarity with Jesus blinded them to what God was doing. Consequently, Jesus did not do many miracles in his hometown.

How easy is it for us to become comfortable with Jesus? Growing up, I heard the stories. I saw the flannel graph pictures. I became familiar with this soft spoken. gentle, fair-haired Savior who seemed to float serenely through first century Palestine ( except for the time that he really got ticked off at the money changers in the Temple). I was a Christian. I had asked Jesus to come into my heart, and since I had my “get out of hell free” card, I grew complacent in the relationship. I prayed, and asked forgiveness when I sinned, but the relationship was not really a close one. I had my image of Christ, and didn’t really expect him to ask much more of me than being a good boy and “worshipping” him when the church doors were open. I’m afraid that the image many churchgoers have of Jesus is not very different from that.

In the past couple of years, I’ve begun to learn to see Jesus more as he is. Through a few authors, particularly N. T. Wright and Dallas Willard, I have seen a different side of the Savior. Jesus the King has stepped into my path and shown himself to be exactly who the Gospels say he is. He is the Christ, the Anointed One of God. He is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He is God incarnate. His Kingdom is now, not just in the future. Along with that, he is my brother and friend, and he calls me to follow and obey him out of love and gratitude for what he has done for me on the cross.

Jesus also calls me into a relationship with him, a relationship that is in many ways like those with other humans, but is so much better. That relationship is one where I am learning to not think that I have him all figured out, but rather to be open to anything he might do. In the Gospels, Jesus didn’t fit into any one’s preconceived notions, and he dealt with different people in different ways. So it is in my life. I am learning to expect the unexpected.

May we never say, “We have Jesus figured out. We know how he does things, and we know how he doesn’t work.”

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Fear and Love

In the song, “I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” Death Cab for Cutie sings about death and following a lover “into the dark.” It’s a song with that sees death as an unknown. There are many folks who see death and life after death that way. I’m not going to discuss that here though.

What struck me (and broke my heart) were the following lines:

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
“Son fear is the heart of love”
So I never went back

I never went to Catholic school, but I did grow up in a religious culture that was fear based. We were told early in life that we needed to accept Jesus as our personal Savior so we could avoid going to hell. Lurid descriptions of hell, some going beyond what Scripture says, were part and parcel of the “gospel.” Movies like “Thief in the Night,” and stories of holes drilled deep into the earth and the screams of the damned coming from those holes, were designed to scare people into “making a decision” for Christ. Today, churches use things like “Judgment House,” and “Helloween” to do the same thing.

There was also an emphasis on “living right,” which of course meant following a certain set of rules and regulations. The motives for doing right included not wanting to lose rewards in heaven, not wanting to damage our “testimony,” and not wanting to be “taken home” early because of our sin. We tried to live right because of fear of the consequences if we didn’t. Even those of us who rebelled tried to make sure that we asked forgiveness before we went to bed, in case we died in the middle of the night.

While there are warnings throughout Scripture about judgment, and I do believe that there will be some sort of judgment when Jesus comes again, I think the more prevalent theme throughout the Bible is love. The Israelites were told that God was leading them in his love. They were commanded to love God with their entire being, and to love their neighbors as themselves.
God presented himself to Moses as the God who is, “slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.” All through the Old Testament, the people of God were reminded of his love for them and of their responsibility to love God and to love others.

In the New Testament, Jesus states that all of God’s Law can be kept by loving God with our entire being and loving all others as ourselves. He said that the way others would know that we belong to him is our love for each other. In John’s first letter, he writes about the importance of love. 1 John 4:18 is the verse that puts to rest any notion that “fear is the heart of love.” This verse sums it up:
“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”