PATIENCE

Patience is hard work. It demands an expectancy and an effort that brings about change and transformation.

The post Patience first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

PATIENCE

Patience is hard work. It demands an expectancy and an effort that brings about change and transformation.

COMMUNION, IT AIN'T WAFERS AND WINE

The Pub and Coffee Shop

Tuesday night I wandered into my pub, Tap Room, for Tap Room Tuesday with my crew of people. Justin, our waiter, smiled and waved as I walked in. Justin knows my name. If I roll in early enough he asks about my family and week.

He knows my order.

He is happy that my crew and I are there.

In so many ways, Justin pastors me.

As I write this morning, I'm sitting here sipping on a coffee at my coffee shop. There is a sense of contentment that I feel when I'm here that I can't quite explain. The barista, Scott, knows my name. He's been my barista for a while now. I got to know him at Cream and Crumb and then at Cultivate (or maybe it was the other way around?).

When I walk in he knows my name.

He knows my order.

He knows about my kids and asks about them.

In so many ways, Scott pastors me.

Communion

Justin and Scott through their presence in these spaces create something in our neighborhood that is critically important. They create connection. They may not realize it, but they are building community. As we come in and out of their orbits we feel loved, cared for, and welcomed.

I don't know about you, but I know deep in my soul there is a longing for communion. Communion is defined as, "the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level."((Oxford Languages on Google))

If you ask a church goer what communion is they will tell you it's the "Lord's Supper." This is the time in worship when many churches will offer bread and juice (or wine) in accordance with the Scriptures.

But this isn't really communion, for most. It's usually quite individualistic and solitary.

We long for communion, the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings on a mental or spiritual level.

It's part of what makes us human.

I haven't done the deep dive into the research, but I wonder if the reason that so many of us struggle with depression and anxiety is our lack of communion. We are more "connected" than ever and yet somehow more isolated.

We are a lonely people.

There is little communion.

When I show up at the coffee shop or the pub, I get a taste of communion.

I hope that when people show up at my house on Sunday evenings that they get to experience communion. I'm realizing that this is the core of pastoring. It's not converting people or "preaching the Word." No, it really comes down to facilitating communion. It's helping people feel loved, welcomed, and cared for.

Where do you experience communion? How are you offering it to others?

COMMUNION, IT AIN’T WAFERS AND WINE

The Pub and Coffee Shop

Tuesday night I wandered into my pub, Tap Room, for Tap Room Tuesday with my crew of people. Justin, our waiter, smiled and waved as I walked in. Justin knows my name. If I roll in early enough he asks about my family and week.

He knows my order.

He is happy that my crew and I are there.

In so many ways, Justin pastors me.

As I write this morning, I’m sitting here sipping on a coffee at my coffee shop. There is a sense of contentment that I feel when I’m here that I can’t quite explain. The barista, Scott, knows my name. He’s been my barista for a while now. I got to know him at Cream and Crumb and then at Cultivate (or maybe it was the other way around?).

When I walk in he knows my name.

He knows my order.

He knows about my kids and asks about them.

In so many ways, Scott pastors me.

Communion

Justin and Scott through their presence in these spaces create something in our neighborhood that is critically important. They create connection. They may not realize it, but they are building community. As we come in and out of their orbits we feel loved, cared for, and welcomed.

I don’t know about you, but I know deep in my soul there is a longing for communion. Communion is defined as, “the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level.”¹

If you ask a church goer what communion is they will tell you it’s the “Lord’s Supper.” This is the time in worship when many churches will offer bread and juice (or wine) in accordance with the Scriptures.

But this isn’t really communion, for most. It’s usually quite individualistic and solitary.

We long for communion, the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings on a mental or spiritual level.

It’s part of what makes us human.

I haven’t done the deep dive into the research, but I wonder if the reason that so many of us struggle with depression and anxiety is our lack of communion. We are more “connected” than ever and yet somehow more isolated.

We are a lonely people.

There is little communion.

When I show up at the coffee shop or the pub, I get a taste of communion.

I hope that when people show up at my house on Sunday evenings that they get to experience communion. I’m realizing that this is the core of pastoring. It’s not converting people or “preaching the Word.” No, it really comes down to facilitating communion. It’s helping people feel loved, welcomed, and cared for.

Where do you experience communion? How are you offering it to others?

1. Oxford Languages on Google

The post Communion, It Ain’t Wafers and Wine first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

HERE I WAIT

A Story

The last few years Amy and I have been picking a word to represent our year. The year of 2022 was the word “Wait (weight)” for me. I liked the word because it hit on two things that I knew I needed to do. On the one hand I needed to give some attention to my weight. I am happy to report that is going well (down 59lbs as of this writing). One the other hand I had a sense that this current season I was about to enter into was a season of “waiting.”

This fall we took our youngest to college and officially became “empty-nesters.” I’m not sure how we got this old.

As we entered into this season so many people asked us, “What are you going to do now? What’s next?”

For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what was next. I still don’t.

So, I continue to wait.

A Scripture

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”

Luke 2:25-32

A Thought…

I keep thinking about Simeon. He is a picture of holy waiting. He was waiting for the coming Messiah. I think the assumption here is that he was an older fella.

Simeon was not only waiting, but he was waiting with a sense of expectancy. We might call this, hope.

There is something about waiting with expectancy that is holy.

As I continue to learn how to wait, I want to wait with expectancy. I’m hopeful that the waiting is doing something in me, that it is changing me.

It’s not lost on me that Simeon in his holy waiting was aware of the voice of the Spirit. He heard the Spirit’s voice and knew it was time to to go to the Temple to see the Christ. That is what a holy waiting can do in us.

As we enter into Advent and set our sights toward Christmas, this is a time when all of us have the opportunity to try and use our imaginations to enter into the sense of holy waiting for the coming Christ.

Perhaps this season of intentional waiting can be a time of change for all of us?

I’m still waiting on the Divine to reveal to me what’s next. I’m learning a lot just sitting in the mystery.

So, here I wait.

The post Here I Wait first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

HERE I WAIT

A Story

The last few years Amy and I have been picking a word to represent our year. The year of 2022 was the word "Wait (weight)" for me. I liked the word because it hit on two things that I knew I needed to do. On the one hand I needed to give some attention to my weight. I am happy to report that is going well (down 59lbs as of this writing). One the other hand I had a sense that this current season I was about to enter into was a season of "waiting."

This fall we took our youngest to college and officially became "empty-nesters." I'm not sure how we got this old.

As we entered into this season so many people asked us, "What are you going to do now? What's next?"

For the first time in my life, I didn't know what was next. I still don't.

So, I continue to wait.

A Scripture

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”

Luke 2:25-32

A Thought...

I keep thinking about Simeon. He is a picture of holy waiting. He was waiting for the coming Messiah. I think the assumption here is that he was an older fella.

Simeon was not only waiting, but he was waiting with a sense of expectancy. We might call this, hope.

There is something about waiting with expectancy that is holy.

As I continue to learn how to wait, I want to wait with expectancy. I'm hopeful that the waiting is doing something in me, that it is changing me.

It's not lost on me that Simeon in his holy waiting was aware of the voice of the Spirit. He heard the Spirit's voice and knew it was time to to go to the Temple to see the Christ. That is what a holy waiting can do in us.

As we enter into Advent and set our sights toward Christmas, this is a time when all of us have the opportunity to try and use our imaginations to enter into the sense of holy waiting for the coming Christ.

Perhaps this season of intentional waiting can be a time of change for all of us?

I'm still waiting on the Divine to reveal to me what's next. I'm learning a lot just sitting in the mystery.

So, here I wait.

TO FORGIVE

A Story

The kingdom of God is like a king who decided to square accounts with his servants. As he got under way, one servant was brought before him who had run up a debt of a hundred thousand dollars. He couldn’t pay up, so the king ordered the man, along with his wife, children, and goods, to be auctioned off at the slave market.

The poor wretch threw himself at the king’s feet and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ Touched by his plea, the king let him off, erasing the debt.

The servant was no sooner out of the room when he came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him ten dollars. He seized him by the throat and demanded, ‘Pay up. Now!’

The poor wretch threw himself down and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ But he wouldn’t do it. He had him arrested and put in jail until the debt was paid. When the other servants saw this going on, they were outraged and brought a detailed report to the king.

The king summoned the man and said, ‘You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn’t you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?’ The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that’s exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn’t forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.

Forgive Us

I regularly pray what is commonly known as, “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father.” I find that it is really helpful for me to slow down and meditate on each of the phrases.

One of the phrases in the prayer is super helpful for me, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” This is a reminder that extending forgiveness is something that is part and parcel of someone who calls on the Divine.

I desperately want my identity, the core of my being, to display the gracious, lovingkindness, of Christ. I am keenly aware of my sin-sickness. I have within me great capacity for radical unloving. My sweet wife knows and understands my capacity for falling short of gracious, lovingkindness. So do most of my friends.

Sitting in this prayer is teaching me that my capacity to forgive is tied to the depth of understanding that I have of my own receipt of forgiveness.

For so many of us the forgiveness that was wrought by Christ on the cross is nothing more than a concept, a theological idea, a simple transaction. Nothing more than someone picking up the tab at lunch. Sure, we’re thankful, but it’s just kind of abstract.

Perhaps this is why so many of us who claim Christ as our savior, the forgiver of our sins, the reconciler of our souls, are so unloving, ungracious, and unkind?

So many of us are just like that servant in the story. We beg forgiveness and then refuse to extend it.

Another Story

One of the Pharisees asked him over for a meal. He went to the Pharisee’s house and sat down at the dinner table. Just then a woman of the village, the town harlot, having learned that Jesus was a guest in the home of the Pharisee, came with a bottle of very expensive perfume and stood at his feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet. Letting down her hair, she dried his feet, kissed them, and anointed them with the perfume. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man was the prophet I thought he was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling all over him.”

Jesus said to him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

“Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?”

Simon answered, “I suppose the one who was forgiven the most.”

“That’s right,” said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, “Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn’t quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn’t it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal.”

Then he spoke to her: “I forgive your sins.”

That set the dinner guests talking behind his back: “Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!”

He ignored them and said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

The post To Forgive first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

TO FORGIVE

A Story

The kingdom of God is like a king who decided to square accounts with his servants. As he got under way, one servant was brought before him who had run up a debt of a hundred thousand dollars. He couldn't pay up, so the king ordered the man, along with his wife, children, and goods, to be auctioned off at the slave market.

The poor wretch threw himself at the king's feet and begged, 'Give me a chance and I'll pay it all back.' Touched by his plea, the king let him off, erasing the debt.

The servant was no sooner out of the room when he came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him ten dollars. He seized him by the throat and demanded, 'Pay up. Now!'

The poor wretch threw himself down and begged, 'Give me a chance and I'll pay it all back.' But he wouldn't do it. He had him arrested and put in jail until the debt was paid. When the other servants saw this going on, they were outraged and brought a detailed report to the king.

The king summoned the man and said, 'You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn't you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?' The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that's exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn't forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.

Forgive Us

I regularly pray what is commonly known as, "The Lord's Prayer" or the "Our Father." I find that it is really helpful for me to slow down and meditate on each of the phrases.

One of the phrases in the prayer is super helpful for me, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." This is a reminder that extending forgiveness is something that is part and parcel of someone who calls on the Divine.

I desperately want my identity, the core of my being, to display the gracious, lovingkindness, of Christ. I am keenly aware of my sin-sickness. I have within me great capacity for radical unloving. My sweet wife knows and understands my capacity for falling short of gracious, lovingkindness. So do most of my friends.

Sitting in this prayer is teaching me that my capacity to forgive is tied to the depth of understanding that I have of my own receipt of forgiveness.

For so many of us the forgiveness that was wrought by Christ on the cross is nothing more than a concept, a theological idea, a simple transaction. Nothing more than someone picking up the tab at lunch. Sure, we're thankful, but it's just kind of abstract.

Perhaps this is why so many of us who claim Christ as our savior, the forgiver of our sins, the reconciler of our souls, are so unloving, ungracious, and unkind?

So many of us are just like that servant in the story. We beg forgiveness and then refuse to extend it.

Another Story

One of the Pharisees asked him over for a meal. He went to the Pharisee's house and sat down at the dinner table. Just then a woman of the village, the town harlot, having learned that Jesus was a guest in the home of the Pharisee, came with a bottle of very expensive perfume and stood at his feet, weeping, raining tears on his feet. Letting down her hair, she dried his feet, kissed them, and anointed them with the perfume. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man was the prophet I thought he was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling all over him."

Jesus said to him, "Simon, I have something to tell you."

"Oh? Tell me."

"Two men were in debt to a banker. One owed five hundred silver pieces, the other fifty. Neither of them could pay up, and so the banker canceled both debts. Which of the two would be more grateful?"

Simon answered, "I suppose the one who was forgiven the most."

"That's right," said Jesus. Then turning to the woman, but speaking to Simon, he said, "Do you see this woman? I came to your home; you provided no water for my feet, but she rained tears on my feet and dried them with her hair. You gave me no greeting, but from the time I arrived she hasn't quit kissing my feet. You provided nothing for freshening up, but she has soothed my feet with perfume. Impressive, isn't it? She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful. If the forgiveness is minimal, the gratitude is minimal."

Then he spoke to her: "I forgive your sins."

That set the dinner guests talking behind his back: "Who does he think he is, forgiving sins!"

He ignored them and said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you. Go in peace."

SEASON OF SUCK

A Story

Yesterday, I had the privilege of offering a few devotional thoughts to a few other pastors. For many pastors, election season is brutal. Then on its heels is Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas. In so many ways, it is the Season of Suck.

What do elections, Thanksgiving, and Christmas have in common? They peel back the hurt in people’s lives.

When people are hurting they often turn to their pastor for guidance or to project the emotions they have that they can’t share with the person that they really need to talk to.

So, all in all, it is a hard season for people and pastors can find themselves feeling a bit exhausted and at the end of their rope. Some of this is from entering in with folks. Some of it is because pastors are people too. They experience the same struggles during this season as everyone else, but sadly they do so often in isolation.

As I was considering what to say to these colleagues I came back to something that Paul of Tarsus wrote a couple thousand years ago that has shaped me to my core.

Gave Up…

“I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it.” (Philippians 3:10-11, The Message)

Paul says that all the stuff that made him appear successful, he gave up. He got rid of it. Why? Because all that mattered, ultimately, was to know Christ and to get in on the resurrection.

I shared with these pastors, that for us this is the calling. We get to pursue Christ and his resurrection all the time. Our vocation is to live into this and to model it for those we serve.

Gain It All…

What a privilege it is to be a pastor! What a privilege to be able to fully and totally give our lives to this thing of ultimate importance. We get to live out Philippians 3:10-11 in all its fullness. There is nothing that has to compete with this.

As we walk through the Season of Suck, our first responsibility is to know Christ and his resurrection.

Read that again.

This is our high calling. This is our privileged calling. This is our joyful calling.

The hard stuff is part of following this Christ and knowing Christ in fullness. The Christ-way is not easy. The Christ-way includes suffering. But, the suffering leads toward knowing the resurrection.

Even in the Season of Suck we can choose to identify with Christ and his resurrection.

This encourages me. I hope maybe you too can find some encouragement in it.

The post Season of Suck first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

SEASON OF SUCK

A Story

Yesterday, I had the privilege of offering a few devotional thoughts to a few other pastors. For many pastors, election season is brutal. Then on its heels is Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas. In so many ways, it is the Season of Suck.

What do elections, Thanksgiving, and Christmas have in common? They peel back the hurt in people's lives.

When people are hurting they often turn to their pastor for guidance or to project the emotions they have that they can't share with the person that they really need to talk to.

So, all in all, it is a hard season for people and pastors can find themselves feeling a bit exhausted and at the end of their rope. Some of this is from entering in with folks. Some of it is because pastors are people too. They experience the same struggles during this season as everyone else, but sadly they do so often in isolation.

As I was considering what to say to these colleagues I came back to something that Paul of Tarsus wrote a couple thousand years ago that has shaped me to my core.

Gave Up...

"I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it." (Philippians 3:10-11, The Message)

Paul says that all the stuff that made him appear successful, he gave up. He got rid of it. Why? Because all that mattered, ultimately, was to know Christ and to get in on the resurrection.

I shared with these pastors, that for us this is the calling. We get to pursue Christ and his resurrection all the time. Our vocation is to live into this and to model it for those we serve.

Gain It All...

What a privilege it is to be a pastor! What a privilege to be able to fully and totally give our lives to this thing of ultimate importance. We get to live out Philippians 3:10-11 in all its fullness. There is nothing that has to compete with this.

As we walk through the Season of Suck, our first responsibility is to know Christ and his resurrection.

Read that again.

This is our high calling. This is our privileged calling. This is our joyful calling.

The hard stuff is part of following this Christ and knowing Christ in fullness. The Christ-way is not easy. The Christ-way includes suffering. But, the suffering leads toward knowing the resurrection.

Even in the Season of Suck we can choose to identify with Christ and his resurrection.

This encourages me. I hope maybe you too can find some encouragement in it.

THE DIVINE MYSTERY

A Story

I was sitting in one of my theology classes in seminary and we were discussing some theological argument. I don’t remember which one. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter. But there was heated discussion from different folks in the class who held differing perspectives. They had sound biblical reasoning to support their position. Both absolutely believed that they were right. Both considered the other to be a “heretic” for holding to the other position.

These types of discussions were normal. Whether it took place in class or the student lounge. At seminary most everyone thought they were the smartest and the most right of anyone else there. I was chief among them. My theological leanings were different from my seminary and so I was always ready for a debate, I always had my antenna up, and I was willing to squash the intellectually weaker classmates.

I had enough salesmen in me to not come across as a total jerk (or at least I thought I did, perhaps some of you reading this were my classmates and have a very different recollection of me). In my mind, at least, I was quite winsome in my arguments. I was always very certain of everything that I believed.

This would, however, change.

The Death of Certainty

As I left seminary and finished by ordination process, I was at the height of my certainty. I knew all the things. I had answers for everything. The Westminster Confession of Faith was my guide and I loved it. In my circles, I would have fit in as someone who was Truly Reformed or a “TR.” I used to quip, “I’m not a five point Calvinist, I’m a six pointer.”

“What’s the sixth point?” someone would inevitably ask.

“I believe in burning heretics,” I would chuckle. This always got a laugh.

Something happened as I began the process of planting a congregation, I can’t put my finger on when exactly.

I would sit in meetings and began to see the inner workings of churches and the denomination. I noticed more and more in the certainty of others a lack of grace. Then I noticed the same in myself. I began wrestling with the reality that perhaps, just maybe, I wasn’t right about everything. Then, I began thinking about the Divine differently than I had before.

God for me was something that was easily defined, sure I knew when and how to drop the idea of mystery, and the like. But, all in all, I had a nice, neat little box that God fit into. God was a thing that I could put my hands around. If someone else’s understanding of God didn’t fit into my box, then their God was a false god.

Simple.

But, something was happening as I read more broadly. I was reading outside of my tradition and the “safe” authors. I had relationships with people from other faith traditions. Soon, I was looking at the box that I had created and it wasn’t working any more.

The Divine Mystery

This box that was so helpful for so long became too small. Slowly, ever so slowly, I was beginning to grasp that the Divine was so much more than my box. My box was very helpful for a season. I needed the certainty that came with it. It was identity forming and gave me structure. If it wasn’t for the box that God was in, I never would have been able to comprehend that there was a Divine mystery awaiting me.

For every this-or-that, there was a formulation that included and transcended. For all of my this-or-thats there was a both-and.

The Divine mystery is awe inspiring.

As I leave the land of this-or-that for the world of both-and, I find that I’m more fascinated with those around me and the world is becoming an unlimited source of story and real mystery.

One of my favorite songs is called, Faith My Eyes, it was written by Derek Webb for Caedmon’s Call. The chorus goes like this:

So keep on coming 
These lines on the raod 
Keep me responsible 
Be it a light or a heavy load 
Keep me guessing 
These blessings in disguise 
I’ll walk with grace my feet 
And faith my eyes

Do you notice the lack of certainty in these lyrics? More and more that little line, “Keep me guessing,” has become something that I want to lean into. For much of my life I have tried to eliminate the guessing. I wanted it all to be certain, a simple equation that gave me a clear output.

Now? I’m coming to see that to “walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes,” I need to keep guessing.

The Divine mystery continues its call, further up and further in.

The post The Divine Mystery first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

THE DIVINE MYSTERY

A Story

I was sitting in one of my theology classes in seminary and we were discussing some theological argument. I don't remember which one. Honestly, it doesn't really matter. But there was heated discussion from different folks in the class who held differing perspectives. They had sound biblical reasoning to support their position. Both absolutely believed that they were right. Both considered the other to be a "heretic" for holding to the other position.

These types of discussions were normal. Whether it took place in class or the student lounge. At seminary most everyone thought they were the smartest and the most right of anyone else there. I was chief among them. My theological leanings were different from my seminary and so I was always ready for a debate, I always had my antenna up, and I was willing to squash the intellectually weaker classmates.

I had enough salesmen in me to not come across as a total jerk (or at least I thought I did, perhaps some of you reading this were my classmates and have a very different recollection of me). In my mind, at least, I was quite winsome in my arguments. I was always very certain of everything that I believed.

This would, however, change.

The Death of Certainty

As I left seminary and finished by ordination process, I was at the height of my certainty. I knew all the things. I had answers for everything. The Westminster Confession of Faith was my guide and I loved it. In my circles, I would have fit in as someone who was Truly Reformed or a "TR." I used to quip, "I'm not a five point Calvinist, I'm a six pointer."

"What's the sixth point?" someone would inevitably ask.

"I believe in burning heretics," I would chuckle. This always got a laugh.

Something happened as I began the process of planting a congregation, I can't put my finger on when exactly.

I would sit in meetings and began to see the inner workings of churches and the denomination. I noticed more and more in the certainty of others a lack of grace. Then I noticed the same in myself. I began wrestling with the reality that perhaps, just maybe, I wasn't right about everything. Then, I began thinking about the Divine differently than I had before.

God for me was something that was easily defined, sure I knew when and how to drop the idea of mystery, and the like. But, all in all, I had a nice, neat little box that God fit into. God was a thing that I could put my hands around. If someone else's understanding of God didn't fit into my box, then their God was a false god.

Simple.

But, something was happening as I read more broadly. I was reading outside of my tradition and the "safe" authors. I had relationships with people from other faith traditions. Soon, I was looking at the box that I had created and it wasn't working any more.

The Divine Mystery

This box that was so helpful for so long became too small. Slowly, ever so slowly, I was beginning to grasp that the Divine was so much more than my box. My box was very helpful for a season. I needed the certainty that came with it. It was identity forming and gave me structure. If it wasn't for the box that God was in, I never would have been able to comprehend that there was a Divine mystery awaiting me.

For every this-or-that, there was a formulation that included and transcended. For all of my this-or-thats there was a both-and.

The Divine mystery is awe inspiring.

As I leave the land of this-or-that for the world of both-and, I find that I'm more fascinated with those around me and the world is becoming an unlimited source of story and real mystery.

One of my favorite songs is called, Faith My Eyes, it was written by Derek Webb for Caedmon's Call. The chorus goes like this:

So keep on coming 
These lines on the raod 
Keep me responsible 
Be it a light or a heavy load 
Keep me guessing 
These blessings in disguise 
I'll walk with grace my feet 
And faith my eyes

Do you notice the lack of certainty in these lyrics? More and more that little line, "Keep me guessing," has become something that I want to lean into. For much of my life I have tried to eliminate the guessing. I wanted it all to be certain, a simple equation that gave me a clear output.

Now? I'm coming to see that to "walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes," I need to keep guessing.

The Divine mystery continues its call, further up and further in.

THE DO NOTHING CHURCH

A Story…

The algorithms on social media are an amazing thing. On Facebook for “occupation” I dropped in there, “pastor.” Because, well, that’s what I am. As a result my newsfeed is flooded with stuff about “church growth.”

Every day I see another post about how to grow your church. I take a few minutes and give each one a look and it’s the same stuff.

“Here’s a can’t miss marketing plan…”
“Here’s a service where the best writers will craft your sermons for you…”
“We can create for you a website guaranteed to bring people to your church…”

It’s all the same.

The other day a “Church Growth Guru” (what even is that and how do they have enough money to financially boost EVERY single post?) asked a question, “How do you get more people in your church engaged in the life of the church?”

I thought, “Finally! This will be well worth my time.” I dropped into the comments section to see what was being said. Almost every single comment was something like, “We have created this program/campaign/preaching series to get more people to do things,” or “Instead of referring to people as ‘volunteers’ we refer to people as ‘leaders’ and ‘co-ministers.'” Almost every comment of was some variation of those two ideas.

When all you have is a hammer…

One of the things that I noticed from working for a building-centric congregation was that the building was considered one of the most significant, if not the most significant, tools in our ministry tool box. As leaders would plan for the different seasons of ministry we were implicitly trying to figure out how to use the building.

Have you ever heard the saying, “When all you have is a hammer, everything is a nail”?

The church building is often a “hammer.”

To be fair, I haven’t ever heard anyone say explicitly that the building needs to be the center of our ministry planning. But, what happens is that it is this overwhelming tool in the toolbox and you can’t escape it. Every ministry question becomes a nail and the building is the hammer.

So, how do you leverage it? You create programs. You think about how to get more people to the building. You realize that to get more new people to come to the building, you need more of the people you already have to bring them. Which means that you need them engaged in the programs that you create to draw people to the building.

Exhausted…

Annually, there’s a conversation that gets had in many congregational leadership teams, “Our folks are exhausted!”

It turns out when people are running around doing stuff every single night they get tired.

So many people in congregations around the country are trying to be deeply involved in the life of the congregation, but also have kids involved with school activities like sports, service clubs, and a host of other things.

Many times, these come into conflict.

I can’t recount for you the number of conversations that I have had with colleagues that say, “I tell our people all the time, you must choose attending the church event over that other <insert non-church event here>.”

There is much lament that occurs with pastors and other church leaders about the fact that people will allow their kids to participate in sports or other things instead of coming to youth group. And this is just one example.

Do Nothing Church

What if we could put the hammer away? What if we could engage our imaginations just a bit? Could we take a different perspective to what engagement looks like?

I believe that we can.

When we decided to create a local congregation that was going to intentionally not have a building, we also decided that we would intentionally not have programs.

You could say, we were going to be a “do nothing church.”

Yes, you read that right.

Do nothing church.

We gather intentionally on Sunday evenings for a meal and scriptures and prayer and communion. Beyond that, we don’t do anything.

As I look around my community I see lots of organizations that folks can serve with. Almost all of them are in desperate need of people to help. So, instead of re-creating these important organizations through the auspices of the church, the people in our congregation go and serve “out there.” And, as their pastor, I try to think about I can encourage and support their efforts.

I am utterly amazed by the depth of connection that the people whom I pastor have within our community.

They are taking with them grace, compassion, empathy, and love into a world where those things are desperately needed. They are freed up to live as ambassadors for Jesus all over the place.

It’s amazing how much the people in my congregation do being part of a do nothing church.

A New Score Card…

If you’re a pastor or church leader reading this, I challenge you to consider a new score card.

What if you tracked engagement not by how many people show up to your programs or building throughout the week? What if you tracked engagement by what the folks in your congregation are doing out in the community by being involved and engaged in local organizations?

I’m telling you, it’s beautiful.

The post The Do Nothing Church first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

THE DO NOTHING CHURCH

A Story...

The algorithms on social media are an amazing thing. On Facebook for "occupation" I dropped in there, "pastor." Because, well, that's what I am. As a result my newsfeed is flooded with stuff about "church growth."

Every day I see another post about how to grow your church. I take a few minutes and give each one a look and it's the same stuff.

"Here's a can't miss marketing plan..."
"Here's a service where the best writers will craft your sermons for you..."
"We can create for you a website guaranteed to bring people to your church..."

It's all the same.

The other day a "Church Growth Guru" (what even is that and how do they have enough money to financially boost EVERY single post?) asked a question, "How do you get more people in your church engaged in the life of the church?"

I thought, "Finally! This will be well worth my time." I dropped into the comments section to see what was being said. Almost every single comment was something like, "We have created this program/campaign/preaching series to get more people to do things," or "Instead of referring to people as 'volunteers' we refer to people as 'leaders' and 'co-ministers.'" Almost every comment of was some variation of those two ideas.

When all you have is a hammer...

One of the things that I noticed from working for a building-centric congregation was that the building was considered one of the most significant, if not the most significant, tools in our ministry tool box. As leaders would plan for the different seasons of ministry we were implicitly trying to figure out how to use the building.

Have you ever heard the saying, "When all you have is a hammer, everything is a nail"?

The church building is often a "hammer."

To be fair, I haven't ever heard anyone say explicitly that the building needs to be the center of our ministry planning. But, what happens is that it is this overwhelming tool in the toolbox and you can't escape it. Every ministry question becomes a nail and the building is the hammer.

So, how do you leverage it? You create programs. You think about how to get more people to the building. You realize that to get more new people to come to the building, you need more of the people you already have to bring them. Which means that you need them engaged in the programs that you create to draw people to the building.

Exhausted...

Annually, there's a conversation that gets had in many congregational leadership teams, "Our folks are exhausted!"

It turns out when people are running around doing stuff every single night they get tired.

So many people in congregations around the country are trying to be deeply involved in the life of the congregation, but also have kids involved with school activities like sports, service clubs, and a host of other things.

Many times, these come into conflict.

I can't recount for you the number of conversations that I have had with colleagues that say, "I tell our people all the time, you must choose attending the church event over that other <insert non-church event here>."

There is much lament that occurs with pastors and other church leaders about the fact that people will allow their kids to participate in sports or other things instead of coming to youth group. And this is just one example.

Do Nothing Church

What if we could put the hammer away? What if we could engage our imaginations just a bit? Could we take a different perspective to what engagement looks like?

I believe that we can.

When we decided to create a local congregation that was going to intentionally not have a building, we also decided that we would intentionally not have programs.

You could say, we were going to be a "do nothing church."

Yes, you read that right.

Do nothing church.

We gather intentionally on Sunday evenings for a meal and scriptures and prayer and communion. Beyond that, we don't do anything.

As I look around my community I see lots of organizations that folks can serve with. Almost all of them are in desperate need of people to help. So, instead of re-creating these important organizations through the auspices of the church, the people in our congregation go and serve "out there." And, as their pastor, I try to think about I can encourage and support their efforts.

I am utterly amazed by the depth of connection that the people whom I pastor have within our community.

They are taking with them grace, compassion, empathy, and love into a world where those things are desperately needed. They are freed up to live as ambassadors for Jesus all over the place.

It's amazing how much the people in my congregation do being part of a do nothing church.

A New Score Card...

If you're a pastor or church leader reading this, I challenge you to consider a new score card.

What if you tracked engagement not by how many people show up to your programs or building throughout the week? What if you tracked engagement by what the folks in your congregation are doing out in the community by being involved and engaged in local organizations?

I'm telling you, it's beautiful.

RELIGION, IT'S NOT WHAT WE THINK

A Story...

I was pretty excited about my faith. I had become completely and utterly given to pursuing Christ. Paul's statement, "I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3:10-11)" had become my own personal life goal.

Do you know what happened? I became a pretty horrible person.

No really, I was a total jerk (the real word is inappropriate for a pastor's blog post).

Paul had walked through a lot. He had faced death for his faith. Paul was someone who knew what it cost to follow Jesus.

I didn't. My world was relatively easy. Hardship? Not really. Hurts? A few. Persecuted and abused for my faith? What a laughable idea. When Paul wrote this, he had known all these things and then some. I had to create a persecution complex and build some sense of suffering. You read that right, I created my own sense of persecution, suffering, and hardship.

How did I do that?

By being an absolute jerk.

My heroes were men who tore other people's "worldviews apart." These were men would leave people in tears in their airplane seats because they "obliterated" their belief systems so they could see their need for Jesus. These were my heroes. Culture warriors contending for Jesus in the public square with a devotion-filled ruthlessness.

I learned well and was soon tearing people apart, metaphorically, on college campuses and beyond.

One of my opening gambits was that I was not contending for religion but for a "personal relationship" with Jesus.

I Was Right!

There are few things more correct than what I said I was doing back then. I was definitely not contending for religion. Everything I was doing in those early days was decidedly the opposite of religion.

Our word, "religion", comes from Latin. Cicero is credited as coining the term. Originally, his usage was re-legere, which would have meant something like re-lecture or re-read. But, it was not long before the concept was tied to religare, meaning, re-bind (ligare is where we get our word, ligament). ((The etymology of religion can be found here))

I was definitely right. I was not someone who was helping to re-bind. There was no bringing people to together. By and large I understood my responsibility was to separate people from their false views of God. Only then could I even begin to possibly help them re-connect. But, if I'm honest with myself I don't think that I ever got there. The vast majority of my own life was spent finding the ways that I was wrong to correct and then help others find the ways they were wrong.

Religion was lost on me.

What If...

In Greek the word that translates to religion carries with it a sense of devotion or piety. The most famous passage about "religion" in the New Testament might be from James 1.

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

James 1:26-27, NIV

As I've dug into the word a bit, I don't really like the translation. I think I like the word devotion is better.

If those who claim devotion to God don’t control what they say, they mislead themselves. Their devotion is worthless. True devotion, the kind that is pure and faultless before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their difficulties and to keep the world from contaminating us.

James 1:26-27, Common English Bible

In our world, devotion and religion are pretty clearly separated. Religion for many of us is rooted in institutions, rules, and systems. But, that's not really the heart of it. Religion, best understood is the bringing together of people with one another and with the divine. Devotion is an aspect of that. I was devoted to God. But, my devotion was pretty worthless because it was about doing the opposite of what a pure and faultless devotion would have been.

It's interesting that pure and faultless devotion according to James was one that was caring for orphans and widows and keeping the world from contaminating us. To care for orphans and widows would have meant bringing them in from the fringes of the community and incorporating them into the whole. It would have been, in a very real sense, practicing religion.

Do you know what isn't there? Pretty much all of what we consider to be important stuff in contemporary Christian faith. It fascinates me that there's no mention of budgets, butts, or buildings. There's no talk of converting people. What was pure and faultless was bringing the outsider into solidarity with the larger community.

Religious is Spiritual

It turns out that the idea of "spiritual but not religious," isn't really accurate. Most of the folks that I know who are "spiritual but not religious" care for those on the fringes deeply. They are practicing the art of religion all the time.

To be truly spiritual we must be religious.

Maybe this is why we have so many problems caused by religion today? Perhaps it's because we have mistook devotion for religion? What if churches, synagogues, mosques, and other communities of worship decided to focus on religion in the sense of re-binding and bringing together? What if those of us who sought to follow Jesus or are wading deep into the divine mystery focused our attention on finding solidarity with all those around us?

RELIGION, IT&#8217;S NOT WHAT WE THINK

A Story…

I was pretty excited about my faith. I had become completely and utterly given to pursuing Christ. Paul’s statement, “I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3:10-11)” had become my own personal life goal.

Do you know what happened? I became a pretty horrible person.

No really, I was a total jerk (the real word is inappropriate for a pastor’s blog post).

Paul had walked through a lot. He had faced death for his faith. Paul was someone who knew what it cost to follow Jesus.

I didn’t. My world was relatively easy. Hardship? Not really. Hurts? A few. Persecuted and abused for my faith? What a laughable idea. When Paul wrote this, he had known all these things and then some. I had to create a persecution complex and build some sense of suffering. You read that right, I created my own sense of persecution, suffering, and hardship.

How did I do that?

By being an absolute jerk.

My heroes were men who tore other people’s “worldviews apart.” These were men would leave people in tears in their airplane seats because they “obliterated” their belief systems so they could see their need for Jesus. These were my heroes. Culture warriors contending for Jesus in the public square with a devotion-filled ruthlessness.

I learned well and was soon tearing people apart, metaphorically, on college campuses and beyond.

One of my opening gambits was that I was not contending for religion but for a “personal relationship” with Jesus.

I Was Right!

There are few things more correct than what I said I was doing back then. I was definitely not contending for religion. Everything I was doing in those early days was decidedly the opposite of religion.

Our word, “religion”, comes from Latin. Cicero is credited as coining the term. Originally, his usage was re-legere, which would have meant something like re-lecture or re-read. But, it was not long before the concept was tied to religare, meaning, re-bind (ligare is where we get our word, ligament). ¹

I was definitely right. I was not someone who was helping to re-bind. There was no bringing people to together. By and large I understood my responsibility was to separate people from their false views of God. Only then could I even begin to possibly help them re-connect. But, if I’m honest with myself I don’t think that I ever got there. The vast majority of my own life was spent finding the ways that I was wrong to correct and then help others find the ways they were wrong.

Religion was lost on me.

What If…

In Greek the word that translates to religion carries with it a sense of devotion or piety. The most famous passage about “religion” in the New Testament might be from James 1.

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

James 1:26-27, NIV

As I’ve dug into the word a bit, I don’t really like the translation. I think I like the word devotion is better.

If those who claim devotion to God don’t control what they say, they mislead themselves. Their devotion is worthless. True devotion, the kind that is pure and faultless before God the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their difficulties and to keep the world from contaminating us.

James 1:26-27, Common English Bible

In our world, devotion and religion are pretty clearly separated. Religion for many of us is rooted in institutions, rules, and systems. But, that’s not really the heart of it. Religion, best understood is the bringing together of people with one another and with the divine. Devotion is an aspect of that. I was devoted to God. But, my devotion was pretty worthless because it was about doing the opposite of what a pure and faultless devotion would have been.

It’s interesting that pure and faultless devotion according to James was one that was caring for orphans and widows and keeping the world from contaminating us. To care for orphans and widows would have meant bringing them in from the fringes of the community and incorporating them into the whole. It would have been, in a very real sense, practicing religion.

Do you know what isn’t there? Pretty much all of what we consider to be important stuff in contemporary Christian faith. It fascinates me that there’s no mention of budgets, butts, or buildings. There’s no talk of converting people. What was pure and faultless was bringing the outsider into solidarity with the larger community.

Religious is Spiritual

It turns out that the idea of “spiritual but not religious,” isn’t really accurate. Most of the folks that I know who are “spiritual but not religious” care for those on the fringes deeply. They are practicing the art of religion all the time.

To be truly spiritual we must be religious.

Maybe this is why we have so many problems caused by religion today? Perhaps it’s because we have mistook devotion for religion? What if churches, synagogues, mosques, and other communities of worship decided to focus on religion in the sense of re-binding and bringing together? What if those of us who sought to follow Jesus or are wading deep into the divine mystery focused our attention on finding solidarity with all those around us?

1. The etymology of religion can be found here

The post Religion, It’s Not What We Think first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

EVERYDAY JESUS

A Story…

The other I was driving along; and by “driving along” I mean I was sitting in traffic. The “expressway” was stop and go due to construction. This is pretty standard for Michigan about nine months out of the year. We have two seasons here, “winter” and “construction,” as the saying goes.

So, here I was stuck in traffic. I wasn’t frustrated, which is odd. Usually, when I’m in this situation, there is almost a sense of panic that sets in and I want to figure out how to get through the back up as quickly as possible. But, on this particular day I was just pleasantly sitting there. I had listened to a podcast that talked about how when we say, “I was stuck in traffic,” we often fail to realize that we are part of the “traffic.”

Have you ever thought about that? I hadn’t, until this particular day. I just sat there and kind of laughed about it. Here we all are together as “traffic.” Once I found myself as the “traffic” it freed me up from the frustration of fighting the “traffic.” You know why? Because I’ve learned over the years that fighting myself is a bit of a silly thing to do.

I sat there, crawling along and recognizing myself in the “traffic.” As I did, it got me thinking about how all these folks, like me, were heading somewhere. Everyone wanted to go some place and each of them had a story for why they were going there. And, even if I knew each of the stories for their travels, it would only give me a very brief snapshot into who they were as people.

Everyday Jesus…

The Gospels and Acts fascinate me. I love reading them. I am drawn to the stories of Jesus and his early followers. For a long time I thought of the Gospels as providing a full picture of Jesus. After all, these stories that have been preserved are really all we have about the man.

Sitting in that traffic it dawned on me, the Gospels represent only the smallest glimpse into who Jesus was. Tradition says that Jesus about 33 years old when he was crucified. That means he spent some 12,000 days on Earth. We know precious little about the first 30 years of his life. The Gospels focus on his “public ministry,” that lasted about three years. And even then, they spill most of their ink on his last week alive.

This snapshot of Jesus we get in the Gospels leaves so much out!

We don’t really get the complete picture of the everyday Jesus.

Even if we want to constrain ourselves to the public ministry that is mostly covered in the four Gospels, it’s a thumbnail.

We don’t get the everyday moments.

What was Jesus like when he woke up first thing in the morning? How did he respond when one of the disciples was late to get on the road? Were there foods he didn’t particularly like? What was his favorite vintage of wine? Did he get blisters?

You get the idea.

We know bits and pieces of the story. The Gospels give us a sense of who Jesus was, but we miss out on the everyday Jesus.

Our Imaginations…

So, what’s left? I’d argue what’s left is our imaginations. We can take what we know about Jesus from the stories we have and the stories of his earliest followers and imagine what he would have been like in the in between times.

Perhaps you’re asking, “Why would we want to do that?”

As I think about my life, I’m realizing that it’s not really the big moments that have to come to define who I am. It’s the small moments. It’s the moment where I realize that, “I’m the traffic.”

In all truth, our lives are not made up of grand events. They are filled with moments. Each moment builds on itself. A small decision here and little choice there. When these small moments come together they are the building blocks for who we are. If we really want to know ourselves, we need to look at the small moments that we find ourselves in.

Because of this, I’m trying to imagine what Jesus would have been like in the small moments of life. The in between times that were not considered worthy to write down. What we have in the Gospels is the big picture of who the man was. To me, Jesus is the most compelling person that has ever existed. His sacrificial love, his perseverance, his strength, his wisdom, his wit, and so much more, draw me in. I am so thankful for what we have in these stories.

Now, I want to work my way backward, so to speak, and free my imagination about the everyday Jesus. I am beginning to believe that it is here in the “everyday Jesus” that we can find the Jesus of the incarnation, or as another author put it, the Jesus of solidarity. I think this is the Jesus that really does meet us in the junk and the messiness of life. But, to find him we have to delve into a bit of the mystery and let ourselves engage our holy imaginations.

What do you think Jesus was like in those small moments, the everyday moments? Do you ever think about the “everyday Jesus”?

The post Everyday Jesus first appeared on Daniel M Rose.

EVERYDAY JESUS

A Story...

The other I was driving along; and by "driving along" I mean I was sitting in traffic. The "expressway" was stop and go due to construction. This is pretty standard for Michigan about nine months out of the year. We have two seasons here, "winter" and "construction," as the saying goes.

So, here I was stuck in traffic. I wasn't frustrated, which is odd. Usually, when I'm in this situation, there is almost a sense of panic that sets in and I want to figure out how to get through the back up as quickly as possible. But, on this particular day I was just pleasantly sitting there. I had listened to a podcast that talked about how when we say, "I was stuck in traffic," we often fail to realize that we are part of the "traffic."

Have you ever thought about that? I hadn't, until this particular day. I just sat there and kind of laughed about it. Here we all are together as "traffic." Once I found myself as the "traffic" it freed me up from the frustration of fighting the "traffic." You know why? Because I've learned over the years that fighting myself is a bit of a silly thing to do.

I sat there, crawling along and recognizing myself in the "traffic." As I did, it got me thinking about how all these folks, like me, were heading somewhere. Everyone wanted to go some place and each of them had a story for why they were going there. And, even if I knew each of the stories for their travels, it would only give me a very brief snapshot into who they were as people.

Everyday Jesus...

The Gospels and Acts fascinate me. I love reading them. I am drawn to the stories of Jesus and his early followers. For a long time I thought of the Gospels as providing a full picture of Jesus. After all, these stories that have been preserved are really all we have about the man.

Sitting in that traffic it dawned on me, the Gospels represent only the smallest glimpse into who Jesus was. Tradition says that Jesus about 33 years old when he was crucified. That means he spent some 12,000 days on Earth. We know precious little about the first 30 years of his life. The Gospels focus on his "public ministry," that lasted about three years. And even then, they spill most of their ink on his last week alive.

This snapshot of Jesus we get in the Gospels leaves so much out!

We don't really get the complete picture of the everyday Jesus.

Even if we want to constrain ourselves to the public ministry that is mostly covered in the four Gospels, it's a thumbnail.

We don't get the everyday moments.

What was Jesus like when he woke up first thing in the morning? How did he respond when one of the disciples was late to get on the road? Were there foods he didn't particularly like? What was his favorite vintage of wine? Did he get blisters?

You get the idea.

We know bits and pieces of the story. The Gospels give us a sense of who Jesus was, but we miss out on the everyday Jesus.

Our Imaginations...

So, what's left? I'd argue what's left is our imaginations. We can take what we know about Jesus from the stories we have and the stories of his earliest followers and imagine what he would have been like in the in between times.

Perhaps you're asking, "Why would we want to do that?"

As I think about my life, I'm realizing that it's not really the big moments that have to come to define who I am. It's the small moments. It's the moment where I realize that, "I'm the traffic."

In all truth, our lives are not made up of grand events. They are filled with moments. Each moment builds on itself. A small decision here and little choice there. When these small moments come together they are the building blocks for who we are. If we really want to know ourselves, we need to look at the small moments that we find ourselves in.

Because of this, I'm trying to imagine what Jesus would have been like in the small moments of life. The in between times that were not considered worthy to write down. What we have in the Gospels is the big picture of who the man was. To me, Jesus is the most compelling person that has ever existed. His sacrificial love, his perseverance, his strength, his wisdom, his wit, and so much more, draw me in. I am so thankful for what we have in these stories.

Now, I want to work my way backward, so to speak, and free my imagination about the everyday Jesus. I am beginning to believe that it is here in the "everyday Jesus" that we can find the Jesus of the incarnation, or as another author put it, the Jesus of solidarity. I think this is the Jesus that really does meet us in the junk and the messiness of life. But, to find him we have to delve into a bit of the mystery and let ourselves engage our holy imaginations.

What do you think Jesus was like in those small moments, the everyday moments? Do you ever think about the "everyday Jesus"?

DECONSTRUCTION MUCH?

A Story...

I was sitting with friends at our local hang out, Ram's Horn, affectionately referred to as "The Hole (if you've been in a Ram's Horn you will know why it got that nickname)." I was reconnecting with friends from high school after spending the summer in South Carolina on a mission trip. That summer I had learned about Jesus and God in a way that was new to me. It all felt real for the first time. I was a different person than I was twelve weeks prior.

As we were sitting there my buddy, Joe burst into the restaurant and said, "Your mom needs you to go home right now. Something's wrong man, you need to go."

I jumped in my car and headed home. I don't remember much of that drive. But, I will never forget seeing the cars in the driveway. Our pastor was there. Family was there. There were tears everywhere. My Mimi had died in a car accident. She was one of the most significant people in my life. Outside of my mom, nobody knew me the way she did.

That day, everything had changed.

It didn't make sense. I had given my summer to God. Why was this happening? It wasn't fair. Why did God let this happen? How was it that God could do this?

Looking back, I know now that I descended into what has been called a dark night of the soul. I questioned everything. I was depressed. I was in anguish. I struggled to believe.

The Thing Called Deconstruction

If this had happened today I think the process that I entered into would be called "deconstruction."

Everywhere you look people are deconstructing. For some, this looks like a total rejection of faith. Some question a doctrine here or there. Others walk away from "church" and hold on to Jesus. Loads of "Christian famous" folks are carrying out their deconstruction online for the world to see. Some are leveraging deconstruction for financial gain (yes, you can hire people to coach you through a season of deconstruction).

Then there's the response to deconstruction. Some celebrate it and almost evangelize it to others. Others point to it as a simply a way to disguise apostasy. Both seem to be missing the mark.

Dark Night of the Soul

What we now call "deconstruction" is nothing new.

St. John of the Cross is largely credited with coining the term, "dark night of the soul" in his 16th century poem.

Even before him, the concept is present throughout the writings of early Christians. The dark night of the soul often refers to seasons where the one who believes encounters in fresh ways the mysteries of the divine. This could be in good times and bad times.

As we look to the story of the people of God in the Bible we see this dark night of the soul or deconstruction all over the place. In particular, I think of the books of Ecclesiastes, Lamentations and Jeremiah (honestly, almost all of the prophets show signs of this). One of my favorite parts of the Acts of the Apostles is witnessing the deconstruction of Peter and Paul's faith.

What strikes me is that counter to what some folks would have us think, deconstruction is normal for people seeking to follow in the way of Christ.

Maybe what it is...

I have been thinking a lot about this dark-night-of-the-soul/deconstruction for the last number of years. Something I am realizing is that I have gone through many seasons of deconstruction. So much so, that I'm not sure that the term is even helpful. For a while I thought maybe it was a cycle of deconstruction and reconstruction. But, I'm not sure that's really it. I think that perhaps, something else is going on.

Last week I included a quote from C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle, "Further up, and further in." It strikes me that this is really what is happening in my life and the life of so many others. Maybe, it's not de- and re- construction? Could it be that it's a vast spiral of becoming more and more of who we are meant to be? Ken Wilber in his text, A Theory of Everything, calls this the process of "transcend and include."

What if we could envision our lives progressing not along a linear line of ups and downs, but as a spiral that is driving us deeper and deeper towards reality. We learn what we need to learn where we are right here, and right now. Then that drives us ever deeper to new truths and a clearer sense of who we are and who we are to become. The mystery continues to beckon, "further up, and further in..."

I don't have a new word for this, but maybe an old word would do? Maybe the old word, "sanctification," is a better term. This process of becoming something new. When I read through the stories of God's people I see them constantly moving and growing and changing.

"Further up, and further in..."

It's not so much a deconstruction or even a dark night of the soul as much as it is being confronted with a current reality and the hope of something new before us. This something new is a version of ourselves moving towards greater flourishing.

What if...

I wonder if this sanctification is what Jesus meant when he talked about how he had come to give us life and life to the full?

What if, all the stories that are emerging of deconstruction are really stories of sanctification. Most of the time, from what I see, when people come out from the other side of this season they are more loving, more gracious, more given to mercy, and have a greater empathy.

What if, we need to follow the footsteps of the prophets and of the apostles and have all our assumptions about God challenged and broken, to truly find God in the deep mystery?

Have you experienced a dark night of the soul? Or have you experienced deconstruction? How have you changed? In what ways does your life look different as a result?

A QUESTIONING FAITH

A Story...

I remember sitting in Calculus during my senior year in high school. It was Spring and the windows were open. I could hear the birds chirping outside and the fresh, cool, Michigan Spring air was blowing gently through the room. Mr. Near, our teacher, was busy writing on the board and excitedly explaining some new equation. As he was teaching he said something that made my face flush and hands get sweaty, I could feel a sense of panic and anxiety rush over me.

"As you know by now..."

I wanted to scream, "No, Mr Near, I don't know by now! I don't understand any of this. I don't even comprehend half of the vocabulary that you're using!"

Yet, I looked around and saw my friends nodding their heads and following along with obvious understanding and clarity.

School was always easy for me. It was a source of pride that I was one of the "smart kids." My grade point average was a significant piece of my identity. That feeling of not knowing and definitely not understanding was sickening. This was particularly true because it seemed like all of my friends understood everything with complete clarity.

It's Kind of Like This...

Many of us feel like I did in Calculus when we hear people start talking about religion, faith, and spirituality. The leaders in these spaces typically speak with authority and certainty. We look around the room and everyone is nodding along. One of the most often used phrases is, "The Bible clearly says..."

Some of us want to scream, "No, it doesn't seem 'clear'! I don't understand any of this and I don't comprehend half the vocabulary you're using!"

If you've grown up in "the church" when you have these thoughts you likely feel some of the things that I felt, and probably even more intense. So often when these questions and doubts rise up in us we experience shame and guilt. We feel like we are the only ones that are wrestling with these kinds of things. As a result, we can isolate ourselves from those around us who seem to have absolute certainty about it all.

If you didn't grow up in "the church" then you too may have felt these things. Particularly, as it relates to someone who feels like they're constantly on the outside looking in. The "church people" seem to be part of some insider club and as you look on, you see the holes and the hypocrisy. You may also have a sense that questions are not welcome there because of the way that people speak with such certainty and authority.

Guess What...

I'm beginning to learn that certainty is the opposite of faith. When us religious folks speak as though we have certainty about all this stuff, it points, not to the strength of our faith, but to the weakness of it.

With great faith, comes great doubt.

There's a story about Jesus where he meets a dad whose son is possessed. The son is often thrown into seizures and when this has happened he has fallen into fires or pools of water. The dad wants to see his son healed. He's at the end of his rope (who hasn't been there?) and says, "If you can help, please help!"

Then this happens:

Jesus said, "If? There are no 'ifs' among believers. Anything can happen."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the father cried, "Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!"

Mark 9:23-24

Jesus does the Jesus thing and heals the boy.

I think that this dad is one of the most honest people in the Bible.

"Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!"

Jesus meets him right there. He heals the boy. He doesn't chastise him for his doubt.

In my own life I'm resonating more and more with this dad. My frequent prayer is his prayer. "I believe, help me in my doubt." The questions I struggle with are real. The doubts are consistently present. The sense of certainty that I had in my younger days is long gone. Yet, I believe more deeply than I ever have before.

There's a picture that an I artist I like drew and I think it sums up some of my journey well,

I have to tell you, joining people on the journey of seeking together is a lot of fun. There's so much beauty in it all. We get to ask questions and struggle together with the mysteries of the divine.

As we seek together, there's a lot of taking Jesus at his word. Grace and mercy and hope are becoming words that mean something more than theological short hand in a religious sales pitch. These ideas are becoming a context for which I see and experience other people and myself.

When we lean into doubt our faith grows and deepens.

I am also learning that the questions that I wrestle with are questions that other people wrestle with.

I am not alone and neither are you.

An Invitation...

During the first week of October I will be launching a new Facebook Group. The Pastor Next Door group will be one where, together, we can say, "Help me with my doubt." You need not walk this journey alone. I know that I don't want to. Over the last number of years the conversations with friends about their wrestling with mystery, the universe, and the divine have sparked my imagination and a deepening of my faith.

Together we can call one another "further up and further in!" ((C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle:

"It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this.You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking-glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different–deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean.

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”))

If you'd like an invite to the group drop a comment and let me know! This group will be invite only and is private. That means what's posted there is not something that can be found or read by people outside of the Facebook Group. I set it up this way, so that we can talk honestly and openly there. I hope that it becomes a community, a neighborhood, where you can build relationships around seeking the deeper questions of life.

AN INVITATION TO COME ON OVER!

It was a beautiful Spring day and I was enjoying some time on the patio. When all of a sudden, Ethan rushed in, a bit flustered and frustrated.

"Dad, as I was coming into the neighborhood I blew my tire out."

We both took a deep breath and headed over to where his car was parked and began the process of changing the tire. The tire iron we had didn't fit his lug nuts. So, we knew that we needed to call our local mechanic, Brian. We rang him up and he gave us a few different tools to try.

None of them worked.

Our neighbor, Allan, popped his head out of his car as he was pulling into the neighborhood and offered up a piece of advice, "My car has this special adapter that I have to use to get the lug nuts off my wheels, maybe yours does?"

Of course! The lug nut key! It was in his glove box and before we knew it, we had the tire off and changed.

Sometimes, we need an expert's help on figuring out a problem. Sometimes, we need a neighbor's help to solve a problem. Do you know what's ideal? When you have both.

Some Context...

Many of us grew up going to church (or being dragged there) and some of us didn't. Some of us are in the early processes of discovering faith and some of us are questioning everything we believe.

Wherever we we are in the process, too often we believe we are alone to figure it all out. But, we're not.

The questions you have are the same ones that others have wrestled with over the years. I am coming to believe that a significant aspect of the human experience is to wrestle with the mysteries of our existence, to wrestle with the questions of ultimate meaning, and to wonder about the divine. Regardless of where one ends up, these questions, doubts, beliefs, and musings are the stuff that make life deep and rich and interesting.

It gets even more interesting (and dare I say, fun) when we tease these things out in community. That's what I want to try to create. I want to invite you into a community that is asking questions and re-imagining faith with the added bonus of a neighbor who is a bit of an expert on some of these questions.

If I have a problem with my car, I call Brian. When I have a question about real estate, I call Todd. When I have a question about interpersonal stuff, I call The Beard. Often, these calls take place in a bit of a broader community too. When these guys have questions about religion, spirituality, or faith they often call me.

Welcome to the Neighborhood!

The Pastor Next Door is an invitation to community and and invitation to access. Not all of us have a pastor next door that we can ask questions of whenever we want.

If you're reading this, you do.

I hope that you will engage by commenting on posts, becoming involved in a new Facebook Group that I will be launching soon, and joining me for live in person meet ups and virtual live gatherings. You can also sign up to block out one-on-one time with me.

To make a long post really short, come on over, pull up a chair and let's ask questions and re-imagine faith together.

USE YOUR HEAD AND HEART

John 7:20-24

How do I know what's right?

That's a question that plagues many of us. It seems to find us everywhere we go. As we scroll the social media feeds or we see the news or as we parent or as we talk with friends, this question is lingering in the background.

So what do we do?

When we are young what is right and what is wrong is easy. If you don't realize this you haven't spent much time with three and four year olds. There's right, there's wrong, there's nothing in between.

Somewhere around six or seven we discover "rules". They are wonderful. Because now there is a basis for what is right and wrong. The "rules" say so. Arguments about rules break out every day on playgrounds around the world.

I'm guessing around ten or eleven, older siblings figure out that they can now use the "rules" to their advantage. So, they change the "rules" mid game to ensure victory. Because now what is right and wrong is really determined by our desired outcome.

It's at this point that everything really changes.

If you don't know this, then you haven't spent much time around middle school kids.

From here on out this question of what is "right" spirals into a multitude of shades of gray.

And yet, "what is right?", follows us like a shadow.

Jonathan Haidt in his seminal text, The Righteous Mind, argues that this desire to be right or to pursue righteousness is at the heart of all that we do as people. Often what helps us determine what is "right" is deeply rooted in what community we bind ourselves to. As a result, we are able to blind ourselves from the claims of what is "right" from those outside our selected tribe. This means that most of our decisions about what is "right" are not the rational decisions that we think they are. According to Haidt we back fill emotional moral intuitions with rational arguments.

As I ponder this it strikes me that once we take notice of how this plays out in ourselves then we can try to intentionally push against it. By taking note of the intuitive or emotional, first recognizing it, then seeing it for what it is, I can try to slow it down and balance it with reason.

There was this one time when Jesus was dealing with the some religious folks. They were upset with him because he had healed a guy on the Sabbath. From sundown on Friday until sundown on Saturday the people of Israel were not supposed to do any work. Yet, over the ages they had written in some exceptions like saving an animal from falling into a hole or even circumcision. Why? Because they had determined those things were "right." Jesus healed someone on the Sabbath and folks lost their minds. This was "wrong."

So what was Jesus going to do? How would he respond?

He said, "Don't be nitpickers; use your head--and heart!-- to discern what is right, to test what is authentically right."

I think Jesus knew something about us people that we don't. I think he inherently knew that we get the head and heart backwards when it comes to the question of "what is right?". If he had said, "You're simply responding out of your bound emotional moral intuition, you need to bring your rational thought more into this," the folks would not have heard him. You see, we think that every decision we make is with our rationality. But, the reality is that it's the opposite. When he said, "and heart," I think he's really challenging them to engage their rational thought on a deeper level.

When we are wrestling with the question of "what is right?", we need head and heart. What is authentically right often goes to a place deeper than simply a black and white rule. It demands that we enter into a depth that requires us to bring more of ourselves. If we are going to answer the question, "what is right?", and be even close to what is right, then we have to remove the blinders that we have put in place due to our tribal allegiance.

If we could do this, we could move beyond a dualism of right or wrong and towards something approaching justice and righteousness. These goals are found over the horizon of right or wrong.

How might your perspective on right or wrong change if you chose to think through some of the moral issues facing you through the lens of a different tribe? Or how have you been blinded because of your tribal allegiance? What does it look like for you to bring head and heart together and to stop nitpicking?

JUST MAKING OURSELVES LOOK GOOD

John 7:14-20

Have you ever been around a "one upper"? Or maybe, you are a "one upper"?

You know what I'm talking about, don't you? That person who upon hearing a story from someone else always has another story that one ups the person before. The thing is, most of those folks are likely making it up. They want the people listening to the story to be amazed and to embrace them.

The religious world these days is full of people who are simply making stuff up. I'm sure if I took the time to dig into other religious traditions that I could find examples across the board. I'm most knowledgeable of Christianity and even more so about American Protestant Christianity, and so that's the context that I'm thinking through.

As I look at social media screes and see some of the stuff that finds its way onto television, I am struck by how little it resembles the gospel. The rage fueled preaching and tweeting are heartbreaking. Yet, many do so because it gets them traction. The crowd applauds and let me tell you, the applause is addictive. What they say and post are simply designed to make themselves look good with little connection to reality.

Jesus once said, "A person making things up tries to make himself look good. But someone trying to honor the one who sent him sticks to the facts and doesn't tamper with reality."

Read that again.

If I put that into my own words, I'd say, "When we forget who we are really are, we lose the plot."

So many of us have lost the plot. We've lost our sense of self. We have become so bound to our political tribe that we have become blind to reality. As a result, we "tamper with reality."

You likely remember the famous, "alternative facts," from a former White House staffer. It's become a bit of a punchline. Sadly though, this has become the way by which many of us live and move out in the world.

Why? Because many Christians and Christian leaders have forgotten who sent them. Instead of honoring the Divine by sticking to reality, they simply seek to make themselves look good.

It is almost as if many of us are ashamed to be a people that can choose to love neighbor and enemy.

It's as though we are ashamed of our identity as a people who have received grace, mercy, and forgiveness and as a result are called to offer the same.

It is as if we are ashamed to be following the Christ that willingly chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of bringing reconciliation to all of creation.

I need to constantly remind myself who sent me. It is here that I find my truest self. When I rest most fully in the mystery of the Divine through Christ then I find little need to make myself look good. In those moments, and to be sure they are moments,

I lose my need to be right and find a holy desire to get it right.
I lose my self righteousness and find gracious submission.
I lose my desire to make myself look and find reality.

How about you? As you reflect on the way you move out in the world, are you someone seeking to make yourself look good by manufacturing your own reality or have you found yourself and are willing to embrace true reality? Let's talk about it in the comments.

Nerd Note: It strikes me that the story of Wanda Maximoff (The Scarlett Witch) could be easily seen as a modern parable of this truth.

HUMILITY OR FEAR?

John 7:1-13

The great theologian Michael Scott once said, "Would I rather be feared or loved? Um... easy, both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me."

This always makes me chuckle because it rings so true.

What kind of leader is a good leader? The one who casts fear in their followers or the one that creates love? I think we would say the latter, yet so much of what we see in our institutions is the former. It's as if we don't really believe that it's possible to lead from a place of love or humility.

I think one way to think about humility is to think of it as the application of love from a position of power.

What do you think? How would you define humility in the context of leadership?

This morning I read this story,

Jesus chose humility. His brothers wanted him to go do something big and public. Their assumption was that Jesus was all about becoming a public person. But, that wasn't it at all. Jesus had a specific purpose and calling. This calling demanded humility, love applied from power.

As I grow older the greatest miracle that I think Jesus ever did was being born into the human frame. The dual nature of Christ, both God and Man, is something that is beyond remarkable and we don't think deeply about it. It is a mystery of mysteries. Yet, it is where these two natures meet that we can find and know the true humility of Christ.

Everything that Jesus did was the application of love from a position of divine power.

This is in stark contrast to the religious leaders of his day. How did they move through the crowds? They did so through intimidation. Or as the NIV puts it, by fear.

Elsewhere in the ancient text we come across this line, "Perfect love casts out fear. (1 John 4:18)"

The application of love from the position of divine power drives out fear! Christ moved through the crowds in humility, the religious leaders did so through intimidation.

As I think about what it means to be a leader I think we need to intentionally follow the way of Jesus. Whether we are leading as parents, in business, in athletics, in school, in the church, or in any other social setting, our goal should be the application of love from the position of power.

Humility or fear? One is really hard. One is really easy. Which do you choose?

R-E-L-A-X

John 6:60-71

Many among his disciples heard this and said, "This is tough teaching, too tough to swallow."

Jesus sensed that his disciples were having a hard time with this and said, "Does this throw you completely? What would happen if you saw the Son of Man ascending to where he came from? The Spirit can make life. Sheer muscle and willpower don't make anything happen. Every word I've spoken to you is a Spirit-word, and so it is life-making. But some of you are resisting, refusing to have any part in this." (Jesus knew from the start that some weren't going to risk themselves with him. He knew also who would betray him.) He went on to say, "This is why I told you earlier that no one is capable of coming to me on his own. You get to me only as a gift from the Father."

After this a lot of his disciples left. They no longer wanted to be associated with him. Then Jesus gave the Twelve their chance: "Do you also want to leave?"

Peter replied, "Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We've already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God."

Jesus responded, "Haven't I handpicked you, the Twelve? Still, one of you is a devil!" He was referring to Judas, son of Simon Iscariot. This man—one from the Twelve!—was even then getting ready to betray him. // John 6:60-71, The Message

//

Can I tell you a secret?

It’s one that I shouldn’t tell you.

But, I’m going to tell you anyway.

Most of us who are working with people walk around feeling like failures or at the very least a bit disappointed.

I don’t know a single parent, teacher, coach, counselor, therapist, or pastor who doesn’t carry with them a nagging sense that they just aren’t doing things well enough. When we get real honest with ourselves we look around and think, “I could have done so much more.”

People are never a finished work. People are always in process. There is never a point when we stop and look at someone and say, “They have arrived!”

It turns out that people are really messy. We can be so beautiful and wonderful and kind and loving and awful and mean and nasty.

The temptation is to focus on the failures. Often when we do, we think it’s our own fault. We could have done so much more. Somehow, if only I could have done a better job then that person would not have failed.

Many of us have a perfection complex.

Maybe this wasn’t that big of a secret after all. Because, some of you are probably thinking, “Duh, I experience this all the time.”

Ok, how about this secret: Jesus experienced this too.

Did you catch the end of his conversation with the Twelve? "Haven't I handpicked you, the Twelve? Still, one of you is a devil!"

Y’all, this is Jesus. The perfect one. The God-Man himself. He handpicked the Twelve and picked one that was “a devil.” Now, I know that many of you are already theologizing this and saying, “Yeah, he had to because Judas was going to play the role of traitor to get him crucified.” If you want to theologize this away, that’s up to you. I get it.

I’ll tell you what, this has been one of the most comforting verses for me in the whole Bible.

Why?

Well, on the one hand it shows me the importance of differentiating myself from those entrusted to my care. Jesus didn’t find his identity in the Twelve. He was able to separate himself from them. Because of this, he was able to fully love all of them even though he knew one was going to betray him. Think about that for a minute. There is no place in the whole of the Gospels that we see Jesus do anything but fully love Judas. I am learning that is only possible because Jesus fully found his identity in relation to the Father and not to other people.

On the other hand, it shows me that the perfect one, the God-Man, experienced someone whom he had given significant time to not becoming a “success.” This is remarkable isn’t it? If there’s anyone who should bat 1.000 for people “success” shouldn’t it be Jesus? There’s another story where he heals a whole bunch of folks all at once and only one guy comes back and thanks him.

If Jesus experienced these things, how much more will we?

This story for me has lead me to a lesson that I keep trying to learn: Relax.

People’s lives and stories are going to follow their own trajectories and story arcs. We can’t control them. There is no way that we can expect to set the stage and force people to say the lines that we want them to say. No, we are mutual travelers. As we journey and meet others on their journey we encourage them and point them toward faith, hope, and love. We trust that the sovereign and good God will bring their journeys to God in Christ.

Just relax.

Love people well and relax.

The question for us is not: How did this person turn out?

The question for us is: Did I love them well?

When we ask the second question we can begin to relax because what matters is the journey and not the destination.

YEAH BUT...

John 6:27-59

"Don't waste your energy striving for perishable food like that. Work for the food that sticks with you, food that nourishes your lasting life, food the Son of Man provides. He and what he does are guaranteed by God the Father to last."

To that they said, "Well, what do we do then to get in on God's works?"

Jesus said, "Throw your lot in with the One that God has sent. That kind of a commitment gets you in on God's works."

They waffled: "Why don't you give us a clue about who you are, just a hint of what's going on? When we see what's up, we'll commit ourselves. Show us what you can do. Moses fed our ancestors with bread in the desert. It says so in the Scriptures: 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'"

Jesus responded, "The real significance of that Scripture is not that Moses gave you bread from heaven but that my Father is right now offering you bread from heaven, the real bread. The Bread of God came down out of heaven and is giving life to the world."

They jumped at that: "Master, give us this bread, now and forever!"

Jesus said, "I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more, ever. I have told you this explicitly because even though you have seen me in action, you don't really believe me. Every person the Father gives me eventually comes running to me. And once that person is with me, I hold on and don't let go. I came down from heaven not to follow my own whim but to accomplish the will of the One who sent me.

"This, in a nutshell, is that will: that everything handed over to me by the Father be completed—not a single detail missed—and at the wrap-up of time I have everything and everyone put together, upright and whole. This is what my Father wants: that anyone who sees the Son and trusts who he is and what he does and then aligns with him will enter real life, eternal life. My part is to put them on their feet alive and whole at the completion of time."

At this, because he said, "I am the Bread that came down from heaven," the Jews started arguing over him: "Isn't this the son of Joseph? Don't we know his father? Don't we know his mother? How can he now say, 'I came down out of heaven' and expect anyone to believe him?"

Jesus said, "Don't bicker among yourselves over me. You're not in charge here. The Father who sent me is in charge. He draws people to me—that's the only way you'll ever come. Only then do I do my work, putting people together, setting them on their feet, ready for the End. This is what the prophets meant when they wrote, 'And then they will all be personally taught by God.' Anyone who has spent any time at all listening to the Father, really listening and therefore learning, comes to me to be taught personally—to see it with his own eyes, hear it with his own ears, from me, since I have it firsthand from the Father. No one has seen the Father except the One who has his Being alongside the Father—and you can see me.

"I'm telling you the most solemn and sober truth now: Whoever believes in me has real life, eternal life. I am the Bread of Life. Your ancestors ate the manna bread in the desert and died. But now here is Bread that truly comes down out of heaven. Anyone eating this Bread will not die, ever. I am the Bread—living Bread!—who came down out of heaven. Anyone who eats this Bread will live—and forever! The Bread that I present to the world so that it can eat and live is myself, this flesh-and-blood self."

At this, the Jews started fighting among themselves: "How can this man serve up his flesh for a meal?"

But Jesus didn't give an inch. "Only insofar as you eat and drink flesh and blood, the flesh and blood of the Son of Man, do you have life within you. The one who brings a hearty appetite to this eating and drinking has eternal life and will be fit and ready for the Final Day. My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. By eating my flesh and drinking my blood you enter into me and I into you. In the same way that the fully alive Father sent me here and I live because of him, so the one who makes a meal of me lives because of me. This is the Bread from heaven. Your ancestors ate bread and later died. Whoever eats this Bread will live always."

He said these things while teaching in the meeting place in Capernaum. // John 6:27-59

//

When my brothers and I were growing up my mom would often leave lists of things for us to do while she was at work. Typically the chore lists included really difficult things like dusting, vacuuming, cleaning our rooms, and cleaning the toilets. I am not sure how often we accomplished the lists before she got home from work, but it was rare. When mom would, with reasonable frustration, challenge our inability to get such simple things done she would be met with, “Yeah but…” The response from her was always, “YeahBut doesn’t live here!”

This passage is one of my favorites in the story of Jesus. He doubles down on challenging the transactional nature of the people’s attitude toward their trust of him.

Jesus does this whole teaching about how he is the living bread. He is calling the people to realize that to get in on God’s works demands an intimacy and trust beyond the transaction.

The whole story is punctuated with the people missing the point.

It’s a constant, “Yeah but…”

Jesus was intentionally missing the transactional expectations of the people. He was asking them to move beyond their dualistic approach to life and faith. Intimacy, oneness, deep connection was uncomfortable and confusing.

Now, let’s be fair, this stuff that Jesus said is weird! It would have sounded just as strange to them as it does to us. If I’m real honest I would have been dropping a bunch of “yeah buts” too.

I think this highlights something for us that we need to be aware of.

Jesus will routinely, often, and consistently challenge our presumptions. When we seek connection with Christ we need to be prepared to move beyond the dualism, the black and white, the either/or, the this or that. Christ calls us further up and further in to something more than a mere transactional faith.

As we read the gospel narratives of Jesus we see this clear trajectory of people being called to something deeper, more full, more real, more mystical…

More.

That’s really it isn’t it?

It’s more.

The bread and wine are not just bread and wine. They are more.

The flesh and blood are nor just flesh and blood. They are more.

Following Jesus is more.

Who we are becomes more.

Existence becomes more.

Everywhere we look we see more.

If you’re anything like me you have something welling up in your chest at the moment, you have this overwhelming desire to say, “yeah but.”

What if faith is setting aside the “yeah but” and simply saying, “I’m willing to trust to experience this mystical and mysterious more.”

It turns out my mom was right, YeahBut doesn’t live here.

I&#039;M JUST HERE FOR THE SNACKS

John 6:16-26

In the evening his disciples went down to the sea, got in the boat, and headed back across the water to Capernaum. It had grown quite dark and Jesus had not yet returned. A huge wind blew up, churning the sea. They were maybe three or four miles out when they saw Jesus walking on the sea, quite near the boat. They were scared senseless, but he reassured them, "It's me. It's all right. Don't be afraid." So they took him on board. In no time they reached land—the exact spot they were headed to.

The next day the crowd that was left behind realized that there had been only one boat, and that Jesus had not gotten into it with his disciples. They had seen them go off without him. By now boats from Tiberias had pulled up near where they had eaten the bread blessed by the Master. So when the crowd realized he was gone and wasn't coming back, they piled into the Tiberias boats and headed for Capernaum, looking for Jesus.

When they found him back across the sea, they said, "Rabbi, when did you get here?"

Jesus answered, "You've come looking for me not because you saw God in my actions but because I fed you, filled your stomachs—and for free.” — John 6:16-26, The Message

We get really caught up in the miracle of Jesus here. Why wouldn’t we? I mean it’s like a scene out of a movie. A storm rises out of the lake and then in the distance who do they see? Jesus! He’s walking on the water. I mean come on! Amazing!

The thing is, it’s all a set up.

John is setting us all up for the punchline.

It’s that moment when Jesus says, “You've come looking for me not because you saw God in my actions but because I fed you, filled your stomachs—and for free.”

Jesus called the people out for seeking to use him.

They understood Jesus in transactional terms. He knew that the were not amazed by the miracle of the loaves and fishes. They simply wanted more free food.

Jesus was nothing more than a magic food talisman.

This is true for us too. We use Jesus all the time. When we don’t get what we want we blame Jesus.

It’s not surprising though. This is the gospel that we have been preaching for a long time is it not? “God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life…” so the saying goes. If you make a decision for Jesus and pray this prayer then everything will be wonderful for you. This is the false gospel that has been preached and continues to be preached all over the place. It’s a gospel of services rendered. It is transactional. Give Jesus everything and your life will be wonderful.

What happens when our lives don’t turn out to be wonderful?

Then we realize the gospel we believed was false.

Jesus, wasn’t having any of this false gospel stuff. He knew the people were coming for another transaction.

The deeper reality that Jesus wanted them to see was God in him.

It’s so much easier to make a transaction.

It’s much more difficult to cultivate a life and ministry where people see God.

That is slow work. It’s hard work. It’s long work. It demands change and transformation in us. It requires authenticity.

I think it’s worth it though.

SLIPPING OFF...

John 6:1-15

After this, Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee (some call it Tiberias). A huge crowd followed him, attracted by the miracles they had seen him do among the sick. When he got to the other side, he climbed a hill and sat down, surrounded by his disciples. It was nearly time for the Feast of Passover, kept annually by the Jews.

When Jesus looked out and saw that a large crowd had arrived, he said to Philip, "Where can we buy bread to feed these people?" He said this to stretch Philip's faith. He already knew what he was going to do.

Philip answered, "Two hundred silver pieces wouldn't be enough to buy bread for each person to get a piece."

One of the disciples—it was Andrew, brother to Simon Peter—said, "There's a little boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But that's a drop in the bucket for a crowd like this."

Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." There was a nice carpet of green grass in this place. They sat down, about five thousand of them. Then Jesus took the bread and, having given thanks, gave it to those who were seated. He did the same with the fish. All ate as much as they wanted.

When the people had eaten their fill, he said to his disciples, "Gather the leftovers so nothing is wasted." They went to work and filled twelve large baskets with leftovers from the five barley loaves.

The people realized that God was at work among them in what Jesus had just done. They said, "This is the Prophet for sure, God's Prophet right here in Galilee!" Jesus saw that in their enthusiasm, they were about to grab him and make him king, so he slipped off and went back up the mountain to be by himself. // John 5:1-15, The Message

//

As I was thinking about this story this morning, I was wrestling with what do I write about? Does anyone need another moralistic lesson from this passage? Do we need another devotional on “stretching faith”? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I mean, I love that this passage drives home that we do not need to live with a scarcity mindset and that we can trust that God will provide. It’s good stuff.

But, what really hit me was the phrase, “so he slipped off…”

Jesus just up and left.

Why?

Because he “saw that in their enthusiasm, they were about to grab him and make him king.”

Jesus just didn’t get it, did he?

He could have been king! He could have had it all! The crowds were eating out of his hand, literally.

I wonder, if I was in the same position as Jesus what would I have done? I likely would have accepted the role and tried to do “good.”

I am reminded of the scene in The Lord of the Rings where Frodo tries to give Gandalf the ring of power:

Frodo: Take it, Gandalf, you must take it!
Gandalf:I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe. Understand, Frodo, I would use this ring from a desire to do good, but through me it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.

I know my own heart so well. My greatest fear as a pastor is that I will deeply wound someone through using my position as leverage in their life. So many of us pastors have abused people in so many ways. I even see this fear in my wife as she doesn’t want to leverage her role as “pastor’s wife” in a way that makes people feel compelled to do things.

Jesus is such a beautiful example for spiritual leaders. We really ought to be people who slip away from the crowds and who seek to keep ourselves from the adulation of the crowds. Yet, in our day and age the “successful” pastors are those who do the exact opposite of Jesus. The “best” and the “brightest” are the ones who can draw the crowd and have the crowd eating out of the palm of their hands. No wonder we see spiritual abuse and trauma all over the place.

When we as leaders become so enamored with ourselves and our ministries that we miss what we are really called to be, that is people who are administering spiritual salves to the broken-hearted, then we have lost the plot.

The American church today needs more spiritual leaders who will set aside the power and the fame for the quiet presence of being involved in the lives of people.

I remember reading about how Eugene Peterson, a pastor’s pastor if there ever was one, would read The Brothers Karamazov every year to remind himself that the people in his congregation had stories that were compelling and very real.

Pastors, we need to get serious about what our calling is. It isn’t to be a celebrity. It isn’t to be “king” or “queen.” It is to be like the Good Samaritan, being present with the hurting and the wounded to bring healing. We do so with presence, we do so in speaking grace, mercy, and truth. We do so by slipping off from the crowds to do our work in the lives of real people.

As I continue to think about this and dwell on this, I realize again how much I need to repent of my own sin-sick heart. I have such a desire for the crowd. Oh, what I would give to be “on the conference circuit.” How wonderful would it be to have bestsellers and thousands listening to me preach every Sunday!

Yet, sitting with a man in his hospital room is better.
Yet, answering the questions of a teen struggling with doubt is better.
Yet, being present in the life of community is better.
Yet, being fully available and present to my wife and children is better.

My prayer is that those of us in spiritual leadership will never seek the throne but that we would "slip off..”

THE WORKING AGENDA

John 5:41-47

I'm not interested in crowd approval. And do you know why? Because I know you and your crowds. I know that love, especially God's love, is not on your working agenda. I came with the authority of my Father, and you either dismiss me or avoid me. If another came, acting self-important, you would welcome him with open arms. How do you expect to get anywhere with God when you spend all your time jockeying for position with each other, ranking your rivals and ignoring God?

"But don't think I'm going to accuse you before my Father. Moses, in whom you put so much stock, is your accuser. If you believed, really believed, what Moses said, you would believe me. He wrote of me. If you won't take seriously what he wrote, how can I expect you to take seriously what I speak?" // John 5:41-47, The Message

//

As the kids say these days, “Jesus just said the quiet part out loud!”

Again, perhaps it’s the books I’ve been reading or maybe it’s just my own presumptions about the way much of the American church has failed over the last 70 years, but we really need to hear what Jesus is saying here.

Michael Frost a missioligist and church planter said it really well,

Perhaps you have listened to the Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast or the Gangster Capitalism: Liberty University podcast or you have just seen so many of the headlines about the many failures of the American church. For many, Michael’s question is right on the money, “Where else can we turn?”

You see, Jesus didn’t care about crowd approval. Yet, for many of us pastors that is all we care about. In many churches all that matters is getting more people in the door of the church regardless of means, short of illegal and mostly short of immoral. Why? Because for them the ends justify those means.

The crowds are what matter.

The bigger the crowd then the more God is blessing the ministry, obviously. The thing is, that isn’t really true. You can have huge crowds and not honor God in the slightest.

Jesus says, “I'm not interested in crowd approval. And do you know why? Because I know you and your crowds. I know that love, especially God's love, is not on your working agenda.”

We see this all over the place. As Frost says, “The proof is in the pudding.”

As a result of the Acts 13 Network seeking to embody the church in a different way, I am privileged to sit down with people who would likely not sit down with other pastors. These folks have been so deeply wounded and traumatized by the church. I hear their stories firsthand. They are gut wrenching.

When we care more about crowd approval then we will move away from love, it’s not on the working agenda. This is because to gain the crowd you have to focus on the things that draw the crowd. It’s all about the coolest, the most beautiful, the people who can look the part of the “blessed.”

The crowds demand everything to look perfect all the time. The crowds need to feel good and to feel powerful and to feel like they are in control. Yet, the leaders know that to make those things happen they first have to hook the crowds up to strings so that they can control everything. I know. I’ve done it.

The crowds hate messy.
The crowds hate uncertainty.
The crowds hate mystery.
The crowds hate reality.

Over the last 70 years the American church has become expert in hiding the messy, hiding the uncertainty, hiding the mystery, and hiding reality.

This came crashing home for me when two movies were released about the holocaust. In 1993 Schindler’s List was released and many Christians said that it was inappropriate to see the film because of the full frontal nudity and the brutality depicted in it. Then in 1997 Life is Beautiful was released, a film about the holocaust where a father tries to keep his son from knowing about the horrors of the situation. Christians largely endorsed this film. It’s interesting isn’t it? Both films have their place. But, the American church boycotted one and embraced the other (at least in my Evangelical circles). I think this displays a symptom of the greater problem.

I think those of us who are Elders need to rethink the working agenda.

Is most of your time spent thinking about the Sunday event, the numbers of giving units, budgets, and programs? If it is, then you are likely in a place where the crowds matter most and the working agenda is not Jesus’ working agenda. Is most of your time spent praying for the people in your congregation, meeting with people in your congregation, being present with the people in your congregation? Then, I think the working agenda is more in line with Jesus’.

If you’re thinking to yourself, “There’s no way I could spend time with that many people!” Then perhaps you have your answer. Perhaps it’s time to break up the monoliths into smaller congregations with Elders and pastors who can truly shepherd and care for the people. Perhaps it’s time to sell off the land and the property and leave the offices behind.

When is enough, enough? When will we as the leaders of the American church realize that the religious industrial complex is sick and needs radical surgery?

What is your agenda? Is it Jesus’?

I don’t have it all together. I struggle with the desire for the large crowd. I still deep down inside believe that more numbers equals success. It feels good to have large crowds. The bigger the crowd the bigger the ego bump and it is awesome. But, I’ve noticed even in my setting that when we have a bigger crew on a Sunday night it’s really hard for me to get to really engage with every person that comes. I want to be able to do that because I want to know what’s happening in their lives and to be able to pray for and love them well.

I desperately want my working agenda to reflect the working agenda of Jesus.

I desperately want the church at large in America to have the working agenda of Jesus.

Something needs to change.

We need to hear what Jesus says here to the religious leaders of his day. We need to be changed by it.

GOD, JESUS, AND BOBBY KNIGHT?

John 5:39-40

You have your heads in your Bibles constantly because you think you'll find eternal life there. But you miss the forest for the trees. These Scriptures are all about me! And here I am, standing right before you, and you aren't willing to receive from me the life you say you want. // John 5:39-40, The Message

//

Over the last few weeks I have read A Church Called Tov, Jesus and John Wayne, The Righteous Mind, and I’m almost finished with The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind. Because of this, I almost feel like just leaving those two verses standing alone, without comment.

I would love for you to go and read them again.

Seriously, we can wait.

I have been part of the Evangelical wing of the Protestant church since I started to really take my faith seriously in college. If you were to ask any of us what the Trinity is we would quickly tell you that it is the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.

That’s easy.

The thing is, most Evangelicals are more like Indiana University basketball fans than we are orthodox trinitarians.

What do I mean by this, you might be wondering?

Well, let me tell you!

I remember the day that Bobby Knight left IU. Amy and I were driving somewhere to raise money and we were listening to sports radio in Indiana. When the news broke the calls that came in were some of the saddest and angriest people that I had ever heard on a radio station. One man said, “In Indiana the holy trinity is God, Jesus, and Bobby Knight!” Now, if this man was at church he would surely tell you the Holy Spirit is likely part of the Trinity rather than Bobby Knight, but in that moment how he actually lived his life was on display.

For many of us who have been part of the Evangelical world for a while, the way we actually live our lives is that the Trinity is composed of God, Jesus, and the Bible. Most of us don’t think much about the Spirit, likely because when we do we get uncomfortable. The Spirit leads us down a road towards mystery and uncertainty and faith. What we prefer is certainty, data, and logic.

Jesus is talking to the religious leaders of his day. The folks who in many ways most parallel the Evangelical Christians and our leaders of this day. He tells them that they are missing everything. Why? Because they have their heads so far stuck up their Bibles that they can’t see what’s right in front of them.

Friends, many of us American Christian Evangelicals have the EXACT SAME PROBLEM. We are so committed to a book that we are missing what or actually who the book is pointing us toward.

Is the Bible important? Yes. I read it, I study it, I love it. The Bible inspires me and challenges me and convicts me and encourages me. I think the Bible is the most fascinating, beautiful, and challenging text that has ever been written. I think it’s been breathed out by God. I think it is sharper than a two-edged sword, as the saying goes. I am fully committed to the Bible!

In the midst of all that though, I have resolved over the last few years to try not to miss who the Bible is pointing us toward.

Who is the Bible pointing us toward? Christ.

What is the Bible pointing us toward? Grace, the reconciliation of all things, and the consummation of all things.

I wonder, what if we were to return the Holy Spirit back to the Trinity and allow the Spirit to draw us into mystery, uncertainty, and faith and as a result place the Bible back in its rightful place as a reflecting mirror through which we see dimly; would this help us to love and live more like Christ?

Maybe.

I think it might be worth a try.

SERIOUSLY!

John 5:28-38

"Don't act so surprised at all this. The time is coming when everyone dead and buried will hear his voice. Those who have lived the right way will walk out into a resurrection Life; those who have lived the wrong way, into a resurrection Judgment.

"I can't do a solitary thing on my own: I listen, then I decide. You can trust my decision because I'm not out to get my own way but only to carry out orders. If I were simply speaking on my own account, it would be an empty, self-serving witness. But an independent witness confirms me, the most reliable Witness of all. Furthermore, you all saw and heard John, and he gave expert and reliable testimony about me, didn't he?

"But my purpose is not to get your vote, and not to appeal to mere human testimony. I'm speaking to you this way so that you will be saved. John was a torch, blazing and bright, and you were glad enough to dance for an hour or so in his bright light. But the witness that really confirms me far exceeds John's witness. It's the work the Father gave me to complete. These very tasks, as I go about completing them, confirm that the Father, in fact, sent me. The Father who sent me, confirmed me. And you missed it. You never heard his voice, you never saw his appearance. There is nothing left in your memory of his Message because you do not take his Messenger seriously.” // John 5:28-38, The Message

//

This is another passage where there is a lot going on. It is thick with meaning. We could be here for hours working our through it. But, that’s not the purpose of this little semi-daily devotional. The purpose is for me to share one thing that stuck out to me and that I will be meditating on for the rest of the day. Then, perhaps you will too.

What hit me today was that last little bit.

“There is nothing left in your memory of his Message because you do not take his Message seriously.”

I wonder if many Christians in America get so sideways because we have not taken his Message seriously?

We get pretty worked up about particular data points in the story of Jesus. But, we seem to have missed the Message. I am so guilty of this. I see it everyday in my interactions with others. There are times that I’m sarcastic, cutting, and mean. Many times what is happening inside my mind is so ugly, that as I review the day, I realize again how much in need of grace I am.

When we boil down everything about Jesus into a set of data points then what matters most is intellectual ascent. It seems that these data points are:

1. Intellectual ascent to a virgin birth

2. Intellectual ascent that Jesus lived

3. Intellectual ascent that Jesus died by means of crucifixion

4. Intellectual ascent that Jesus rose from the dead

I am in no way belittling these beliefs. I think they are important and crucial beliefs. I hold to them.

What I am finding in my own life as I continue to learn more about what it means to follow Jesus is that his life and his message was so much more than those four beliefs. These data points are not life changing.

When I first became aware of this, I was sitting in my friend Bob’s living room. He is a mentor and father figure to me. Amy and I were there with a handful of other couples for a small group bible study. It was a wonderful time of fellowship and going deep into one another’s lives. One night he asked the question, “What does grace mean?” Everyone sat in silence. So, Bob said, “Dan and Amy, you’re on staff with Campus Crusade, what’s the definition?” Me, being the self-righteous, self-important know-it-all exclaimed, “Unmerited favor!”

Bob asked the follow up, “What’s so amazing about that?”

Silence.

As we walk with Jesus we are confronted with one who invites the outsider in. We are confronted by one who is the embodiment of love. I understood the “grace data point,” but I didn’t understand the depths of it, the beauty of it, the reality that it was an idea that changed the world.

I had yet to take the Message seriously.

When we take the Message seriously we are transformed into people who are seeking to be like Jesus. A people who try to take with us in our bodies the death and resurrection of Christ. We try to embody grace, truth, and love. To take the Message seriously is to be transformed in how we live, not just in what we believe.

GREETERS NOT GATEKEEPERS!

John 5:24-27

"It's urgent that you listen carefully to this: Anyone here who believes what I am saying right now and aligns himself with the Father, who has in fact put me in charge, has at this very moment the real, lasting life and is no longer condemned to be an outsider. This person has taken a giant step from the world of the dead to the world of the living.

"It's urgent that you get this right: The time has arrived—I mean right now!—when dead men and women will hear the voice of the Son of God and, hearing, will come alive. Just as the Father has life in himself, he has conferred on the Son life in himself. And he has given him the authority, simply because he is the Son of Man, to decide and carry out matters of Judgment. // John 5:24-27, The Message

//

Jesus doesn’t care about what we think about who is in and who is out.

Jesus doesn’t care that we don’t like “those” people, whomever those people are.

Jesus cares about bringing in those who have been condemned as outsiders and bringing them into community.

It’s interesting isn’t it that for Jesus the one who is outside the circle of friends is the one who is experiencing the “world of the dead”?

I’m struck by the statement of Jesus, where he says that it is up to him to carry out matters of judgment. If it’s up to him, do you know who it’s not up to? You or me.

That is so freeing.

Seriously.

I have spent a lot of years trying to figure out how to pass judgment on others. When I was younger, it was easy. You see, in our youth we have everything figured out and we know that we are pretty much perfect. As you age and mature you become aware of the reality that you don’t have much, if anything, figured out. You realize that your Mimi was right when she said, “But by the grace of God go I.”

So, yeah. Jesus being the arbiter of judgment is a way better system than a pastor or anyone else being an arbiter of judgment.

Now, to be clear I think what he’s talking about here is the judging of who belongs on the outside to experience the “world of the dead.” That’s not my call. That’s not your call.

As I let this passage sit in me, I think we have the twin responsibilities of being sure that we are aligned with Jesus and also to welcome outsiders inside.

Could you imagine the way the world would look different if those of us who bear the name, “Christian,” understood ourselves as greeters not gatekeepers?

My goodness! We might take another step toward being known by our love!

NO SHUT OUTS!

John 5:19-23

So Jesus explained himself at length. "I'm telling you this straight. The Son can't independently do a thing, only what he sees the Father doing. What the Father does, the Son does. The Father loves the Son and includes him in everything he is doing.

"But you haven't seen the half of it yet, for in the same way that the Father raises the dead and creates life, so does the Son. The Son gives life to anyone he chooses. Neither he nor the Father shuts anyone out. The Father handed all authority to judge over to the Son so that the Son will be honored equally with the Father. Anyone who dishonors the Son, dishonors the Father, for it was the Father's decision to put the Son in the place of honor. // John 5:19-23, The Message

//

I don’t know if you have noticed this or not, but we live in a tribal age. Everyone is so concerned about which team you’re on. I remember a number of years ago there was a segment on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart where he sent one of their correspondents to one of the political parties’ national convention. The correspondent was interviewing people and asked what made their party better than the other? The response was that their party was the “big tent” party and welcomed everyone. The correspondent then began asking people who were their political “other” were welcome. Predictably, the people he interviewed said, “no! Not THOSE people.”

It was a stark example that the age we are living in seems to be first and foremost about figuring out who is with us and who against us. Then, we can determine who our enemies are.

It’s easy to have enemies.

There’s just something about hating someone that is animating.

So, when I read this passage this morning I was struck by how it subverts the “Us vs Them” mentality of our culture. It also was subversive of Jesus’ own culture. He too lived in an age where the lines were clearly drawn.

Jew or Gentile.
Greek or Barbarian.
Slave or Free.
Man or Woman.

He lived in a world that was full of distinctions and separations. You couldn’t worship with those who were in different categories than you. Men and women were separated at Temple and in the synagogue, for example. Distinctions ruled the day even when it came to worship.

Yet, here is Jesus saying that neither he nor the Father will shut anyone out. Jesus’ work was about bringing reconciliation to the world. This reconciling work meant that the lines of distinction were being erased. The tribalism was being undercut by grace. It didn’t matter who you were to Jesus, you were welcomed at his table.

Jew or Gentile,
Greek or Barbarian,
Slave or Free,
Man or Woman,

…all were welcome at his table and into the presence of the Father.

The dividing walls were coming down and Jesus was welcoming everyone.

As I sit at my desk today writing and I think about our world. I am struck by the sad reality that Christians, those who intentionally and willingly bear the name of Christ, are among the most divisive. We seek to separate and divide, Us vs Them, in so many ways. Whether it be politically, racially, theologically, or even over the type of seating in a congregation’s building. It is as if we are looking for ways to separate and categorize people into nice neat little groups.

There is something satisfying about knowing our enemies.

The problem is, that as followers of Christ there are to be no enemies. When the Christian looks out into the world we are to see a world filled with bearers of the divine image who are welcomed and accepted by Jesus.

If we can approach the world this way, we become a people who are no longer dividing and separating into Us vs Them but a people who make bigger tables and throw bigger parties. We can become a people who practice a radical minimum standard of welcome and hospitality.

Perhaps we might even become a people known by our love.

EVEN ON THE SABBATH!

John 5:1-18

Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people—blind, crippled, paralyzed—were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, "Do you want to get well?"

The sick man said, "Sir, when the water is stirred, I don't have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in."

Jesus said, "Get up, take your bedroll, start walking." The man was healed on the spot. He picked up his bedroll and walked off.

That day happened to be the Sabbath. The Jews stopped the healed man and said, "It's the Sabbath. You can't carry your bedroll around. It's against the rules."

But he told them, "The man who made me well told me to. He said, 'Take your bedroll and start walking.'"

They asked, "Who gave you the order to take it up and start walking?" But the healed man didn't know, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd.

A little later Jesus found him in the Temple and said, "You look wonderful! You're well! Don't return to a sinning life or something worse might happen."

The man went back and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. That is why the Jews were out to get Jesus—because he did this kind of thing on the Sabbath.

But Jesus defended himself. "My Father is working straight through, even on the Sabbath. So am I."

That really set them off. The Jews were now not only out to expose him; they were out to kill him. Not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was calling God his own Father, putting himself on a level with God. // John 5:1-18, The Message

//

“My Father is working straight through, even on the Sabbath. So am I.”

Did you catch that?

It jumped off the page to me.

Maybe it’s because I just put the wraps on reading A Church Called Tov by Scot McKnight and Laura Barrington where I was challenged to think about what it means for the church to be “tov” or “good.”

I wonder if we think about this enough. For Jesus, doing good was not “work.” Jesus does “good” throughout his ministry on the Sabbath. If doing good was a breaking of the commandment then he would be sinning. This would of course sideline his whole mission, you know? But doing good on the Sabbath was not breaking the commandment it was merely breaking a social convention.

When we do good we are not working if the doing good is coming from a place of who we are.

Something that is talked often in the context of theology classes is the reality that on the seventh day God rested. That when God declared all things good, God stopped working. Yet, here Jesus is saying that God is working and still working right on through the Sabbath! How could this be? Unless of course doing good is not work.

Perhaps when we are living out of our identity it is something different. I think when we are working out of our identity we are simply being. Jesus in healing the man by the pool was not doing work, he was simply being who he is.

Jesus is good.

Therefore, doing good is not work.

Which of course drives me to a place of introspection. Am I good? Is good a part of my identity? Is goodness something that is true of me? I desperately want it to be, but I’m not entirely sure that it is. Except that by placing my trust in Christ I have been united with Christ in life. This means that who I am is hidden with Christ. Whether or I not I perceive my goodness it is there.

I think inherently we know this. I don’t know anyone that after doing good or living out their goodness thinks, “Man, that was terrible, I hate doing good.”

We might be physically tired or even emotionally tired after doing good but there is a sense of joy, accomplishment, or

satisfaction from doing good. Goodness is part of who we are. Not only from union with Christ but also because we are image bearers of the Divine. I think this is why we see goodness cut across the human experience.

Let us lean into our goodness and in so doing we will do good, even when it challenges cultural norms. Let us do good out of our goodness even when it upsets the pious. Let us do good out of our goodness because it is the very thing that we desire to do.

A BRIDGE TOO FAR?

John 4:43–54

After the two days he left for Galilee. Now, Jesus knew well from experience that a prophet is not respected in the place where he grew up. So when he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, but only because they were impressed with what he had done in Jerusalem during the Passover Feast, not that they really had a clue about who he was or what he was up to.

Now he was back in Cana of Galilee, the place where he made the water into wine. Meanwhile in Capernaum, there was a certain official from the king’s court whose son was sick. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and asked that he come down and heal his son, who was on the brink of death. Jesus put him off: “Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe.”

But the court official wouldn’t be put off. “Come down! It’s life or death for my son.”

Jesus simply replied, “Go home. Your son lives.”

The man believed the bare word Jesus spoke and headed home. On his way back, his servants intercepted him and announced, “Your son lives!”

He asked them what time he began to get better. They said, “The fever broke yesterday afternoon at one o’clock.” The father knew that that was the very moment Jesus had said, “Your son lives.”

That clinched it. Not only he but his entire household believed. This was now the second sign Jesus gave after having come from Judea into Galilee. — John 4:43–54, The Message

//

Believing is not always the easiest thing in the world. So often we make it out to be something that people can “just do.” But, when we slow down a minute we have to realize that there is a real cost and real risk involved in the believing.

When I was younger I would often think to myself, “How is it that people don’t believe?” I mean it seemed so self-evident to me. God, Jesus, all of it just seemed so logical and straightforward. It seemed to be the thing that made the world make sense. Yet, so many struggled with the idea of it.

One conversation that has stuck with me for nearly twenty years was with a college student at Illinois State University. This man needed no convincing of his sin-sickness. He knew he was hurting and in need of healing. He was fully aware of broken relationships that needed restoration. Forgiveness was something that he desperately wanted. Yet, the idea of receiving grace that he did not earn was a bridge too far. Here, he stumbled. It made no sense to him. He desperately wanted to believe it but it just didn’t make any sense to him. There was no anger or dislike of Christians. He was unchurched so there wasn’t any kind of church baggage. It was simply the idea that a God existed who would love him without condition seemed so illogical and unfathomable that he could not give intellectual ascent to the concept, let alone belief.

As I read this story of the official in the King’s court it struck me how much it would cost this man to believe Jesus. His belief told him that he needed Jesus to come and be in person with his son to heal him. But, Jesus simply said, “Go, your son lives.” How does that work? What would you do? If you, in your heart of hearts believed that Jesus needed to be in person with your dying son to heal him, would you believe?

I don’t know if I would.

I would want to.

But the cost would be so great if I was wrong.

I think about that young man from Illinois State often. What would the cost of his belief in grace be? I think perhaps the cost may have been his sense of autonomy. We want to believe that we don’t need anyone or anything to help us. But, the truth of the matter is that we desperately need one another. To believe in grace demands that we set aside our personal autonomy and acquiesce to the love of the Divine. For rugged individualists, that’s tough stuff.

It’s an interesting thought isn’t it? The thought that something freely given actually comes to us for great cost. It’s not that we earn grace but the receipt of grace demands that we trust.

I am learning that trust is often a bridge too far.

Trust is a cost that many of us are unwilling to pay.

I read this story and am left in awe by the belief of the official. His radical trust that Christ, with a “bare word”, could save his son leaves me slack jawed.

Belief, faith, trust, isn’t easy. It costs.

Sometimes when we do trust we get to experience the joy of life, the joy of healing, the joy of resurrection.

As I ponder this story, I think I’m realizing again the risk of belief, the cost of trust, is worth the joy that is set before me.

A BRIDGE TOO FAR?

John 4:43-54

I have exciting news to share: You can now read #LoveWell in the new Substack app for iPhone.

Read #LoveWell in the new Substack app

Now available for iOS

Get the app

With the app, you’ll have a dedicated Inbox for my Substack and any others you subscribe to. New posts will never get lost in your email filters, or stuck in spam. Longer posts will never cut-off by your email app. Comments and rich media will all work seamlessly. Overall, it’s a big upgrade to the reading experience.

The Substack app is currently available for iOS. If you don’t have an Apple device, you can join the Android waitlist here.

//

After the two days he left for Galilee. Now, Jesus knew well from experience that a prophet is not respected in the place where he grew up. So when he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, but only because they were impressed with what he had done in Jerusalem during the Passover Feast, not that they really had a clue about who he was or what he was up to.

Now he was back in Cana of Galilee, the place where he made the water into wine. Meanwhile in Capernaum, there was a certain official from the king's court whose son was sick. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and asked that he come down and heal his son, who was on the brink of death. Jesus put him off: "Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe."

But the court official wouldn't be put off. "Come down! It's life or death for my son."

Jesus simply replied, "Go home. Your son lives."

The man believed the bare word Jesus spoke and headed home. On his way back, his servants intercepted him and announced, "Your son lives!"

He asked them what time he began to get better. They said, "The fever broke yesterday afternoon at one o'clock." The father knew that that was the very moment Jesus had said, "Your son lives."

That clinched it. Not only he but his entire household believed. This was now the second sign Jesus gave after having come from Judea into Galilee. — John 4:43-54, The Message

//

Believing is not always the easiest thing in the world. So often we make it out to be something that people can “just do.” But, when we slow down a minute we have to realize that there is a real cost and real risk involved in the believing.

When I was younger I would often think to myself, “How is it that people don’t believe?” I mean it seemed so self-evident to me. God, Jesus, all of it just seemed so logical and straightforward. It seemed to be the thing that made the world make sense. Yet, so many struggled with the idea of it.

One conversation that has stuck with me for nearly twenty years was with a college student at Illinois State University. This man needed no convincing of his sin-sickness. He knew he was hurting and in need of healing. He was fully aware of broken relationships that needed restoration. Forgiveness was something that he desperately wanted. Yet, the idea of receiving grace that he did not earn was a bridge too far. Here, he stumbled. It made no sense to him. He desperately wanted to believe it but it just didn’t make any sense to him. There was no anger or dislike of Christians. He was unchurched so there wasn’t any kind of church baggage. It was simply the idea that a God existed who would love him without condition seemed so illogical and unfathomable that he could not give intellectual ascent to the concept, let alone belief.

As I read this story of the official in the King’s court it struck me how much it would cost this man to believe Jesus. His belief told him that he needed Jesus to come and be in person with his son to heal him. But, Jesus simply said, “Go, your son lives.” How does that work? What would you do? If you, in your heart of hearts believed that Jesus needed to be in person with your dying son to heal him, would you believe?

I don’t know if I would.

I would want to.

But the cost would be so great if I was wrong.

I think about that young man from Illinois State often. What would the cost of his belief in grace be? I think perhaps the cost may have been his sense of autonomy. We want to believe that we don’t need anyone or anything to help us. But, the truth of the matter is that we desperately need one another. To believe in grace demands that we set aside our personal autonomy and acquiesce to the love of the Divine. For rugged individualists, that’s tough stuff.

It’s an interesting thought isn’t it? The thought that something freely given actually comes to us for great cost. It’s not that we earn grace but the receipt of grace demands that we trust.

I am learning that trust is often a bridge too far.

Trust is a cost that many of us are unwilling to pay.

I read this story and am left in awe by the belief of the official. His radical trust that Christ, with a “bare word”, could save his son leaves me slack jawed.

Belief, faith, trust, isn’t easy. It costs.

Sometimes when we do trust we get to experience the joy of life, the joy of healing, the joy of resurrection.

As I ponder this story, I think I’m realizing again the risk of belief, the cost of trust, is worth the joy that is set before me.

FIRSTHAND JIVE

John 4:39-42

Many of the Samaritans from that village committed themselves to him because of the woman's witness: "He knew all about the things I did. He knows me inside and out!" They asked him to stay on, so Jesus stayed two days. A lot more people entrusted their lives to him when they heard what he had to say. They said to the woman, "We're no longer taking this on your say-so. We've heard it for ourselves and know it for sure. He's the Savior of the world!" — John 4:39-42, The Message

//

I remember the first time that I heard the phrase, “Secondhand jive.” We were at church and our pastor used it. He was talking about how in the 70s when you heard something from someone else it was, “sechondhad jive.” He was arguing that we needed to have a “firsthand jive” faith. That is, a faith where we ourselves engage with the divine and not just hear about it from someone else.

As I read this passage this morning this was the phrase that popped into my head.

But I also noticed that before the people of this Samaritan village experienced “firsthand jive” they received the word of someone else. What is fascinating to me is that the person that they heard it from is not someone who would have been considered to be all that trustworthy.

What was it about her?

The only thing I can think of is that something about her changed.

It is the assumption of most that she was a person who was living in isolation from her community due to her life. We learn from her conversation with Jesus that she had multiple husbands and was living with a man not her husband at that time. She went to the well at the hottest part of the day to avoid others or because she was being shunned by them. Either way, after her interaction with Jesus she re-entered their community and pointed people to him.

Isn’t this what Jesus was always doing? Because of the grace and mercy and love that he offered, people were being reconciled to God, themselves, and also their communities. We see this in the healings that he performs as well. People with physical infirmities are able to become full participants in the community again.

When the Samaritan woman has her “firsthand jive” with Jesus she is changed. By her entering back into community others believe and go meet Jesus too. Then they have their own experience of “firsthand jive.”

Who was it that you knew that initially pointed you toward Jesus? For me, I think it was my Mimi and mom. Seeing their lived faith and how they loved people kept me in touch with my faith while it would have been easy to walk away. I am beyond grateful for them. Because of them, I now believe because of my own experience with the divine. So, who was it for you?

STANDING WITH GIANTS

John 4:31-38

In the meantime, the disciples pressed him, "Rabbi, eat. Aren't you going to eat?"

He told them, "I have food to eat you know nothing about."

The disciples were puzzled. "Who could have brought him food?"

Jesus said, "The food that keeps me going is that I do the will of the One who sent me, finishing the work he started. As you look around right now, wouldn't you say that in about four months it will be time to harvest? Well, I'm telling you to open your eyes and take a good look at what's right in front of you. These Samaritan fields are ripe. It's harvest time!

"The Harvester isn't waiting. He's taking his pay, gathering in this grain that's ripe for eternal life. Now the Sower is arm in arm with the Harvester, triumphant. That's the truth of the saying, 'This one sows, that one harvests.' I sent you to harvest a field you never worked. Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others." — John 4:31-38, The Message

//

As I sit in this passage today I am struck by this image from the last sentence, “Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others.”

Too often we think that we are “the first” or that we are bringing a “fresh” expression of the gospel to a particular place and people. But, the reality is that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.

A couple years into my time here in Ypsilanti I was sitting with a group of pastors from the city. Mostly men and women who had given most of their adult lives to this place. They had been faithfully serving the people and the city for decades. These pastors are good and faithful men and women. They love our city deeply and passionately. They have been through the hard years and the painful times. There is nothing that they have not seen. They’ve been through the Civil Rights marches and the Billy Graham Crusades.

In that meeting my heart broke.

I was absolutely gutted.

It was as if the Spirit grabbed me by my ear and seemingly said, “Little boy, look, listen, and hear. You are arrogant. Your arrogance is hurting my people here. Learn to love, son.”

I was sitting next to my friends Pastor Vicki, Pastor Roger, and Pastor Tony. Pastor Vicki was walking the line of anger, frustration, and sadness over the attitude of the many “church planters” that were coming into the area. They were speaking as though God was absent and that God’s people were absent and that the work of the Spirit of God was absent from this place. I could see and hear, her frustration and heartbreak. Pastor Tony and Pastor Roger were resonating with her.

I was gutted.

After the meeting I sought forgiveness, she was gracious and kind. Then she said, with that twinkle in her eye and the rye smile that accompanied her kind heart, “I’m so glad you were hearing me.”

It was in that moment that I realized in our work here in Ypsilanti we are standing on the shoulders of giants. Men and women who most of the world will never know. But, these men and women have done the hard work. They have prayed, served, loved, and been present in a place that many have overlooked and ignored except in its proximity to Ann Arbor.

Truly the Spirit that day was showing me that, “Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others.”

Today as I sit here, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for their faithful love of this city and this people.

How have you walked into a field, without lifting a finger, that was ripe for harvest because it has been worked long and hard by others?

GO AND DO

John 4:31-34

In the meantime, the disciples pressed him, "Rabbi, eat. Aren't you going to eat?"

He told them, "I have food to eat you know nothing about."

The disciples were puzzled. "Who could have brought him food?"

Jesus said, "The food that keeps me going is that I do the will of the One who sent me, finishing the work he started.” — John 4:31-34, The Message

//

Sometimes I read and stop and think and can’t stop thinking about what it was that I just read. Today is one of those days. I was reading and just stopped with that last sentence. I couldn’t keep going. It was just done-zo after that.

So often in our American Christianity we think of spiritual food simply as the Scriptures. Please hear me, I am not downplaying the importance of the Scriptures in our spiritual lives. Nor am I downplaying the role of prayer in our spiritual lives. What I want to say is that maybe we have over emphasized the Bible to the point that we have missed something crucial to our spiritual development.

For Jesus, the food that keeps him going is doing “the will of the One” who sent him. It was living, acting, doing. Spiritual food was not sitting and studying the Bible. Though, Jesus clearly knew his Bible. It was not sitting and only praying. Though, Jesus actively sought time to get away and pray.

His spiritual vitality came from living out his faith. Jesus was fully engaged in the world living out what he taught.

Jesus was doing things.

For Jesus, spiritual vitality did not come about from hiding out in a holy huddle. No, it came from living his faith by loving people and pointing them to the glorious One that sent him.

The work that “One who sent” him had started was the work of calling people into relationship with the divine, renewing the covenant promises, bringing the history of God’s people to its dramatic conclusion where exile was ending. In a word, reconciliation.

Reconciliation could only happen if Jesus acted in the world and the did the work before him.

The same is true for us. We will find a greater vitality of faith as we live it out in the world. Our faith will become more real to us as we try to love people. This demands that we leave our study rooms and prayer closets and find our way to the neighborhoods, cafes, pubs, bowling alleys, schools, restaurants, golf courses, and anywhere else there are people who need to see love, grace, and mercy in action.

Are you feeling a bit dry in your spiritual life? Go serve. Do you need help finding a place to serve? I can help with that. There are many needs all around us if we just lift our heads and start looking around.

THAT KIND OF WOMAN

John 4:25-30

The woman said, "I don't know about that. I do know that the Messiah is coming. When he arrives, we'll get the whole story."

"I am he," said Jesus. "You don't have to wait any longer or look any further."

Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked. They couldn't believe he was talking with that kind of a woman. No one said what they were all thinking, but their faces showed it.

The woman took the hint and left. In her confusion she left her water pot. Back in the village she told the people, "Come see a man who knew all about the things I did, who knows me inside and out. Do you think this could be the Messiah?" And they went out to see for themselves. — John 4:25-30, The Message

//

Sure I could wax eloquent about Jesus’ response to the woman’s statement about the Messiah. I mean it is remarkable isn’t it? A Samaritan woman waiting expectantly for the Messiah, a whole Samaritan town, for that matter, waiting for the Messiah. All of this would be mind bending stuff in the first century. John, in telling this story this way, was blowing categories left and right for his Jewish readers.

Yet, this is not the part that really grabs my attention.

No, what really grabs my attention is this, “Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked. They couldn't believe he was talking with that kind of a woman. No one said what they were all thinking, but their faces showed it.”

This woman came to the well at midday, in the heat of the day, and this meant that she was not interested in engaging with the other women of her village. She was living a life of shame. Her own shame and likely being shamed by those in her village. This woman was not someone that would have been considered to have “high moral virtue.” No, she definitely fit into the, “One of those people,” kind of categories.

The disciples showed up and were shocked. Probably first that Jesus was talking to a Samaritan, second that he was talking to Samaritan woman, and third that he was talking to a Samaritan woman who was clearly immoral. Peterson’s translation gets it right on the money, “that kind of woman.”

Jesus was always doing that.

He was always talking to that “kind of woman.”

There always seemed to be the person that he shouldn’t talk to hanging around. But did Jesus care? Nope! He went right ahead and spent time with them.

Jesus wasn’t worried about what other people thought of him. He had an audience of one, so to speak, and this freed him to love well. When you no longer care about trying to please others you are able to love people who some have determined to be unlovable.

There was no tribal affiliation for Jesus. He pursued the way of love, that was his dogma. This way of love lead him to talk to people like the Samaritan woman and leave even his disciples in utter shock.

Who are you afraid to talk to? Who are “those people” that your tribe wouldn’t approve of? Why are you worried about what they think?

When we follow the way of Jesus we no longer have to worry about what others think. Our only concern is to love like him and live like him. When we do, we will love well and live life to the full!

ALL THAT MATTERS...

John 4:15-24

The woman said, "Sir, give me this water so I won't ever get thirsty, won't ever have to come back to this well again!"

He said, "Go call your husband and then come back."

"I have no husband," she said.

"That's nicely put: 'I have no husband.' You've had five husbands, and the man you're living with now isn't even your husband. You spoke the truth there, sure enough."

"Oh, so you're a prophet! Well, tell me this: Our ancestors worshiped God at this mountain, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship, right?"

"Believe me, woman, the time is coming when you Samaritans will worship the Father neither here at this mountain nor there in Jerusalem. You worship guessing in the dark; we Jews worship in the clear light of day. God's way of salvation is made available through the Jews. But the time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you're called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.

"It's who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That's the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration." // John 4:15-24, The Message

//

When I slowed down and read this story again, with fresh eyes, I was left a bit scandalized. Were you? What Jesus says here challenges me so deeply and leaves me experiencing a deeper sense of grace and mercy.

As a pastor I live and work within the religious industrial complex. Within that complex there are many tribes. Within those tribes there are tribes. So, for instance, I am in the Western Protestant tribe. Within that tribe I am Reformed. Within that tribe I am Presbyterian. Within that tribe I am part of the Evangelical Presbyterians. Within that tribe I am Missional. Within that tribe I am house church movements.

It’s like nesting dolls of tribal identity and those are just the broad tribal alignments that have to do with what kind of congregation I lead.

We love our tribes. We love knowing who is with us and who is against us. There is something marvelously delicious about knowing who our enemies are. Don’t you agree?

Yet, according to Jesus none of it matters.

Not one bit of it.

Not a single iota of it.

Zilch.

Nada.

Nothing.

Nope, not even that.

Wrong, that doesn’t matter either.

Sorry, it doesn’t.

We have so deeply missed the plot that we might as well not even be in the same book as Jesus. Jesus is out here challenging everything that we think we know about God and worship and all that and we just keep on fighting and arguing the same silly little battles that people have for years.

In this story it’s Jew and Samaritan. In our story it might be Pentecostal, Dispensational, and Reformed. Maybe it’s Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant. Could be “Woke” and “Non-woke.” Maybe it’s Apple and Android.

Whatever it is, it’s the same tired story and it doesn’t matter anymore.

All that matters Jesus says is that people, “are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship.”

That’s it.

That’s all that matters.

Nothing else.

Nope, not that.

Nor that.

Not even that.

All that matters is simply and honestly being yourself before the divine in worship. That is all that matters, at least according to Jesus.

Perhaps he’s wrong.

Could be, but it seems unlikely.

A motto in our home is that God is sovereign and good. If I believe that, then I can rest in this radically subversive thing that Jesus says here.

All that matters is simply and honestly being yourself before the divine in worship.

Nothing else matters.

THE GENEROUS ONE

John 4:3-14

So Jesus left the Judean countryside and went back to Galilee.

To get there, he had to pass through Samaria. He came into Sychar, a Samaritan village that bordered the field Jacob had given his son Joseph. Jacob's well was still there. Jesus, worn out by the trip, sat down at the well. It was noon.

A woman, a Samaritan, came to draw water. Jesus said, "Would you give me a drink of water?" (His disciples had gone to the village to buy food for lunch.)

The Samaritan woman, taken aback, asked, "How come you, a Jew, are asking me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?" (Jews in those days wouldn't be caught dead talking to Samaritans.)

Jesus answered, "If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you fresh, living water."

The woman said, "Sir, you don't even have a bucket to draw with, and this well is deep. So how are you going to get this 'living water'? Are you a better man than our ancestor Jacob, who dug this well and drank from it, he and his sons and livestock, and passed it down to us?"

Jesus said, "Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life." // John 4:3-14

//

The interaction between Jesus and the Samaritan is one of my favorite stories in the whole of the Scripture. There are so many layers. I could probably write three or four days worth and not even scratch the surface, and that’s just the theological stuff from this story. The applications of this story in our lives is almost overwhelming.

What really struck me this morning is when Jesus says, “If you knew the generosity of God and who I am…”

If we could grab hold of the reality of the God’s generosity it would transform the way we interact with the divine.

I think so often of God as stingy or hard or strict or even absent. I know that I shouldn’t admit to those things because I’m a pastor and all. Here’s the deal, us pastors, even though we have the intellectual knowledge that such things are not true, we still wrestle with them.

For some reason it’s easier to believe that God is not generous. Why? Probably because when we put ourselves in God’s place we would really struggle with being generous. Each of us know our own sin-sickness. We know how far we fall short of loving well, loving God, loving our neighbors, and loving our enemies. If we were God, we’d probably have sent some brimstone hurdling from the heavens. Ha!

It’s so much harder to believe that God is generous in the face of our imperfections. God is always faithful. God is always forgiving. God is always gracious. God’s generosity knows no bounds.

In the face of such overwhelming generosity we feel inadequate, we feel self-conscious, we feel undeserving. Yet, God’s generosity and grace will not be swayed. This generous God lavishes grace and mercy and love on those made in God’s image.

I’m learning that central to the life of faith is embracing God in all the beauty and goodness that flows from the Divine. To live by faith is learning to rest in God’s generosity as opposed to living as though God was stingy, hard, and cruel.

As we come to terms with the reality that God is lavishly generous then we are free from the fear of entering into God’s presence. We are free to enter in and drink deeply of grace, the very living water that offers life!

JUST DON&#039;T PLAY

John 4:1-3

Jesus realized that the Pharisees were keeping count of the baptisms that he and John performed (although his disciples, not Jesus, did the actual baptizing). They had posted the score that Jesus was ahead, turning him and John into rivals in the eyes of the people. So Jesus left the Judean countryside and went back to Galilee. - John 4:1-3, The Message

//

“But the bell rang!”

That is the phrase that ran through my head reading this little bit of Scripture today. In one of my favorite Christmas movies, A Christmas Story, there’s a scene where Schwartz sticks his tongue to a flagpole and it gets stuck. He’s freaking out and then the bell rings for the kids to go in from recess. Everyone turns to run inside. Schwartz is screaming to his friend Ralphie, “Don’t go! Don’t go Ralphie! Don’t leave me here!”

Ralphie puts his hands up and says, “The bell rang!”

He turns and runs inside.

How many times in life do we feel like Ralphie? The bell rang, there’s just nothing else we can do but go inside.

There are these supposed rules that we have to follow. There is a “way that it’s always been done.”

What if I told you that you don’t have to follow the rules because you don’t even have to play the game?

The religious leaders were playing a game equivalent to our modern religious industrial complex called the game of Triple B, “Butts, Bucks, and Buildings.” For them it was not so much buildings and perhaps not so much bucks but they were definitely keeping track of butts.

When Jesus notices he decides he doesn’t want to play anymore. He doesn’t argue about the rules or the scorecard. He just decides that he’s not playing the game. He takes his disciples and walks.

It turns out that the games and rules of the religious industrial complex in his day and age were ones that he didn’t want to play by. So, he stopped playing their game. If you notice, Jesus seems to drive as many people away during his ministry as he attracts. He isn’t worried about the scorecard. All he cares about is teaching people to live life and to live it to the full through loving well in grace.

The silly games and rules of the religious industrial complex were so uninteresting he chose to not even play the game.

I wonder, what games are we playing that we really could just walk away from? What could we just stop playing? How much more joy would we find in life if we did?

Too many of my colleagues are spending their days in meetings and sending emails. This was not what they signed up for as pastors. I don’t know any pastor that thought their calling was responding to email and sitting in meetings. They wanted to teach people how to follow Jesus. Too many of us think that to carry out our calling, we have to pay the price of spending hours in meetings and administration.

We really don’t.

We can stop playing the game altogether.

I don’t mean walk away from ministry. I mean for Elders to gather together and decide that our churches will cease to be run as businesses catering to the whims of the masses for the sake of scoring high on the Triple B index.

Perhaps we need to leave the Judean countryside and go back to Galilee.

EXTRAVAGANCE!

John 3:22-36

After this conversation, Jesus went on with his disciples into the Judean countryside and relaxed with them there. He was also baptizing. At the same time, John was baptizing over at Aenon near Salim, where water was abundant. This was before John was thrown into jail. John's disciples got into an argument with the establishment Jews over the nature of baptism. They came to John and said, "Rabbi, you know the one who was with you on the other side of the Jordan? The one you authorized with your witness? Well, he's now competing with us. He's baptizing, too, and everyone's going to him instead of us."

John answered, "It's not possible for a person to succeed—I'm talking about eternal success—without heaven's help. You yourselves were there when I made it public that I was not the Messiah but simply the one sent ahead of him to get things ready. The one who gets the bride is, by definition, the bridegroom. And the bridegroom's friend, his 'best man'—that's me—in place at his side where he can hear every word, is genuinely happy. How could he be jealous when he knows that the wedding is finished and the marriage is off to a good start?

"That's why my cup is running over. This is the assigned moment for him to move into the center, while I slip off to the sidelines.

"The One who comes from above is head and shoulders over other messengers from God. The earthborn is earthbound and speaks earth language; the heavenborn is in a league of his own. He sets out the evidence of what he saw and heard in heaven. No one wants to deal with these facts. But anyone who examines this evidence will come to stake his life on this: that God himself is the truth.

"The One that God sent speaks God's words. And don't think he rations out the Spirit in bits and pieces. The Father loves the Son extravagantly. He turned everything over to him so he could give it away—a lavish distribution of gifts. That is why whoever accepts and trusts the Son gets in on everything, life complete and forever! And that is also why the person who avoids and distrusts the Son is in the dark and doesn't see life. All he experiences of God is darkness, and an angry darkness at that."

// John 3:22-36, The Message

//

The richness of these passages can be overwhelming. Truly, I often struggle to find “the one thing” in these passages. I wish I could be sitting with you over a coffee or a beer and just talk through these together. There is so much!

I am continuing to find a theme running through John and it’s a theme that I have not been able to escape from for a while now. We see it again at the end of the passage, the phrase this time is “life complete and forever.” The phrase that has been in my heart for a while now is “life, and life to the full” as the reason Jesus came.

John turns the prism so to speak and shows another glimpse of what this complete and full life looks like. It is a life marked by the reality that Christ, being loved extravagantly by the Father, gives away all that the Father gave to him.

Can we just stop and let that sink in a bit?

The extravagant love of God flows through Christ to us to experience a life complete.

There is nothing small or limited about what Christ is doing. There is not a limited or short supply of God’s extravagant love flowing through Christ. There is no scarcity here, only abundance.

Now, let’s be clear this not some sort of prosperity Gospel, name it claim it, health and wealth kind of deal. This is something that goes deeper than material gain. It is experiencing life to the full rooted in the extravagant love of God.

A complete life, a full life, is one that is marked by loving deeply and being loved deeply. In other words, to love well.

Loving well is rooted not in ourselves but in the very nature of the Divine in us. As we come to a deeper understanding of being loved fully and lavishly by God then we have more love to give others. It is in the midst of this dance of giving and receiving that we find a full and complete life.

THE ADDICTION

John 3:9-21

Nicodemus asked, "What do you mean by this? How does this happen?"

Jesus said, "You're a respected teacher of Israel and you don't know these basics? Listen carefully. I'm speaking sober truth to you. I speak only of what I know by experience; I give witness only to what I have seen with my own eyes. There is nothing secondhand here, no hearsay. Yet instead of facing the evidence and accepting it, you procrastinate with questions. If I tell you things that are plain as the hand before your face and you don't believe me, what use is there in telling you of things you can't see, the things of God?

"No one has ever gone up into the presence of God except the One who came down from that Presence, the Son of Man. In the same way that Moses lifted the serpent in the desert so people could have something to see and then believe, it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up— and everyone who looks up to him, trusting and expectant, will gain a real life, eternal life.

"This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.

"This is the crisis we're in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness. They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God. Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won't come near it, fearing a painful exposure. But anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is." // John 3:9-21

//

There is just so much here to unpack. It is no wonder that this is a passage that has multiple books written about it.

I think what really strikes me about this passage this morning is the crisis and the solution. The way that Peterson renders this is beautifully haunting and it rings true to so much of what we are seeing in our world today.

This crisis of men and women running for the darkness seems to be ever present. Does it not? Why is it that we can’t have nice things? It’s because people tend to run toward the darkness. That description of being “addicted to denial and illusion” is on the money for our world isn’t it?

So what’s the solution? “Anyone working and living in truth and reality welcomes God-light so the work can be seen for the God-work it is.” This way of living reflects the life lived in light of Christ coming to make things right. Did you notice that? We see the last paragraph get a preview in the paragraph before. “God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.”

When we are addicted to the darkness we fear the light.

When we are addicted to the wrong things the right things are awful.

Let’s think about it like this. When I started trying to eat right fruits and vegetables were not very tasty to me. I longed for the sweetness of refined sugar. As I pressed on and didn’t eat refined sugar fruits and vegetables gained sweetness and flavor. Did they change? No. I changed. As I broke my addiction to sugar real food tastes better than any processed food I’ve ever eaten.

When we think about living life to the full it means living life in reality. It means breaking our addictions to denial and illusion. If we are going to be a people who are trying to help set the world right by following Jesus then we need to run from the darkness and toward the light. This is going to take work. It’s going to force us to admit that not everything we believe or hold onto is true and real. But, it’s so worth it.

To live life to the full is to live life in the light.

JUST THAT

John 3:1-8

There was a man of the Pharisee sect, Nicodemus, a prominent leader among the Jews. Late one night he visited Jesus and said, "Rabbi, we all know you're a teacher straight from God. No one could do all the God-pointing, God-revealing acts you do if God weren't in on it."

Jesus said, "You're absolutely right. Take it from me: Unless a person is born from above, it's not possible to see what I'm pointing to—to God's kingdom."

"How can anyone," said Nicodemus, "be born who has already been born and grown up? You can't re-enter your mother's womb and be born again. What are you saying with this 'born-from-above' talk?"

Jesus said, "You're not listening. Let me say it again. Unless a person submits to this original creation—the 'wind hovering over the water' creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—it's not possible to enter God's kingdom. When you look at a baby, it's just that: a body you can look at and touch. But the person who takes shape within is formed by something you can't see and touch—the Spirit—and becomes a living spirit.

"So don't be so surprised when I tell you that you have to be 'born from above'—out of this world, so to speak. You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it's headed next. That's the way it is with everyone 'born from above' by the wind of God, the Spirit of God."

// John 3:1-8, The Message

//

We live in a world that is all about “just that.”

It’s all about the what we can see, touch, taste, smell, and hear. If it’s not “just that” then it isn’t real, it doesn’t exist. They physical world is all there is and nothing more.

At least that’s what we say.

But we live as though there is more.

I will never forget the first time I heard the heartbeats of my children. In that moment there was something that came over me. I was left in a state of awe and wonder. In that moment I began dreaming about what their lives would be like. My dreams were not “just that” they were something different.

Or the moment that I was floating in the Pacific Ocean with my brother Jay and my dad holding onto boogie boards watching the sun sink over the horizon. I can still hear the gentle hiss that we all heard as though it was really plunging into the water. In that moment the sun was not “just that.”

I have had the opportunity to be a part of a number of wedding ceremonies. When the bride begins her procession I always watch the groom. The look on his face is always spectacular. In that moment his bride was not “just that.”

We live an existence that is full of mystery and wonder and awe.

Old Nicodemus was caught up in the “just that.” In his mind religion was concrete, clear cut, with no room for ambiguity. Jesus throws a wrench in it all by talking about this whole “being born from above” stuff. Poor Nicodemus is completely confused. How can you be born a second time? That’s a fair question when you live in a “just that” world. Jesus tries to explain to Nicodemus that we live in a world that is much more than “just that.” We live in a world imbued with the Spirit. There is more to everything around us than “just that.”

I am beginning to understand that a big part, if not the central part, of being “born again” is waking up to the wonderful, beautiful, mystery that is the creation, of which we are a part. It’s not some transaction. It’s recognizing in the wind the image of the Spirit. It’s the overwhelming realization that there is more to this life than “just that.”

Jesus says later on in John that he came to bring life and life to the full. I think that for us to live this full life we need to wake up the wonderful, beautiful, mystery that surrounds us. Oh that we would be born from above to experience the joy of the beautiful mystery of our existence.

Let’s live today in light of the reality that it’s not “just that.”

LATER...

John 2:13-25

When the Passover Feast, celebrated each spring by the Jews, was about to take place, Jesus traveled up to Jerusalem. He found the Temple teeming with people selling cattle and sheep and doves. The loan sharks were also there in full strength.

Jesus put together a whip out of strips of leather and chased them out of the Temple, stampeding the sheep and cattle, upending the tables of the loan sharks, spilling coins left and right. He told the dove merchants, "Get your things out of here! Stop turning my Father's house into a shopping mall!" That's when his disciples remembered the Scripture, "Zeal for your house consumes me."

But the Jews were upset. They asked, "What credentials can you present to justify this?" Jesus answered, "Tear down this Temple and in three days I'll put it back together."

They were indignant: "It took forty-six years to build this Temple, and you're going to rebuild it in three days?" But Jesus was talking about his body as the Temple. Later, after he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered he had said this. They then put two and two together and believed both what was written in Scripture and what Jesus had said.

During the time he was in Jerusalem, those days of the Passover Feast, many people noticed the signs he was displaying and, seeing they pointed straight to God, entrusted their lives to him. But Jesus didn't entrust his life to them. He knew them inside and out, knew how untrustworthy they were. He didn't need any help in seeing right through them. // John 2:13-25, The Message

//

I have said this before and I will say it again, these devotionals are not sermons. So you get my fresh take on a particular passage. I limit myself to how much I write. A passage like this is really hard to hold myself to the limit. I want to dig into all the things. I want to share all the things. But, I can’t. So if you have questions hit me up and let’s talk about them!

Today what really stood out to me were these two sentences, “Later, after he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered he had said this. They then put two and two together and believed both what was written in Scripture and what Jesus had said.”

I had never noticed them before. They leapt off the page and smacked me in the forehead.

First, it shows some humility. John was saying that they totally didn’t understand what Jesus was doing at the beginning of his ministry. I love that they were confused by this whole scene.

Second, it gives me insight into how the early church made sense of everything they had experienced after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

This helps me wrap my mind around the reality that there will be things that we walk through in life and have no idea why or what purpose they serve. Yet, afterwards we can look back and see how they shaped us and made us into the people that we are today. When we get some distance from a particular situation we are able to see it through the lens of the wisdom that we gained from the experience.

The disciples, who would become apostles, looked back through the resurrection and the crucifixion on the life of Jesus and saw it with new meaning and new purpose.

What are some of things that you’ve gone through in your life that as you look back on them gained purpose and meaning? How do you understand your personal story and see in it how there has been a purpose? How has your story made you who you are?

When we take time to answer these kinds of questions, they help us identify the hand of the divine in our lives. Every few years I take some time to think through my story and it always leaves me grateful.

LATER…

When the Passover Feast, celebrated each spring by the Jews, was about to take place, Jesus traveled up to Jerusalem. He found the Temple teeming with people selling cattle and sheep and doves. The loan sharks were also there in full strength.

Jesus put together a whip out of strips of leather and chased them out of the Temple, stampeding the sheep and cattle, upending the tables of the loan sharks, spilling coins left and right. He told the dove merchants, “Get your things out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a shopping mall!” That’s when his disciples remembered the Scripture, “Zeal for your house consumes me.”

But the Jews were upset. They asked, “What credentials can you present to justify this?” Jesus answered, “Tear down this Temple and in three days I’ll put it back together.”

They were indignant: “It took forty-six years to build this Temple, and you’re going to rebuild it in three days?” But Jesus was talking about his body as the Temple. Later, after he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered he had said this. They then put two and two together and believed both what was written in Scripture and what Jesus had said.

During the time he was in Jerusalem, those days of the Passover Feast, many people noticed the signs he was displaying and, seeing they pointed straight to God, entrusted their lives to him. But Jesus didn’t entrust his life to them. He knew them inside and out, knew how untrustworthy they were. He didn’t need any help in seeing right through them. // John 2:13–25, The Message

//

I have said this before and I will say it again, these devotionals are not sermons. So you get my fresh take on a particular passage. I limit myself to how much I write. A passage like this is really hard to hold myself to the limit. I want to dig into all the things. I want to share all the things. But, I can’t. So if you have questions hit me up and let’s talk about them!

Today what really stood out to me were these two sentences, “Later, after he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered he had said this. They then put two and two together and believed both what was written in Scripture and what Jesus had said.”

I had never noticed them before. They leapt off the page and smacked me in the forehead.

First, it shows some humility. John was saying that they totally didn’t understand what Jesus was doing at the beginning of his ministry. I love that they were confused by this whole scene.

Second, it gives me insight into how the early church made sense of everything they had experienced after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

This helps me wrap my mind around the reality that there will be things that we walk through in life and have no idea why or what purpose they serve. Yet, afterwards we can look back and see how they shaped us and made us into the people that we are today. When we get some distance from a particular situation we are able to see it through the lens of the wisdom that we gained from the experience.

The disciples, who would become apostles, looked back through the resurrection and the crucifixion on the life of Jesus and saw it with new meaning and new purpose.

What are some of things that you’ve gone through in your life that as you look back on them gained purpose and meaning? How do you understand your personal story and see in it how there has been a purpose? How has your story made you who you are?

When we take time to answer these kinds of questions, they help us identify the hand of the divine in our lives. Every few years I take some time to think my story and it always leaves me grateful.

IT WAS A REAL BANGER

Three days later there was a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there. Jesus and his disciples were guests also. When they started running low on wine at the wedding banquet, Jesus’ mother told him, “They’re just about out of wine.”

Jesus said, “Is that any of our business, Mother — yours or mine? This isn’t my time. Don’t push me.”

She went ahead anyway, telling the servants, “Whatever he tells you, do it.”

Six stoneware water pots were there, used by the Jews for ritual washings. Each held twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus ordered the servants, “Fill the pots with water.” And they filled them to the brim.

“Now fill your pitchers and take them to the host,” Jesus said, and they did.

When the host tasted the water that had become wine (he didn’t know what had just happened but the servants, of course, knew), he called out to the bridegroom, “Everybody I know begins with their finest wines and after the guests have had their fill brings in the cheap stuff. But you’ve saved the best till now!”

This act in Cana of Galilee was the first sign Jesus gave, the first glimpse of his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

After this he went down to Capernaum along with his mother, brothers, and disciples, and stayed several days. // John 2:1–12, The Message

//

I was talking about the gospel of John with a friend the other day. We were talking about where he should start reading in the Bible. And I described each of the four gospels. When I described John, I said it feels like it was written by a good friend of Jesus’ who was telling the story from his perspective. It’s so different from the other gospels. It has this stream of consciousness feel to it for me. It starts with this deep philosophy about the Word being God and all that, then all of a sudden we are at a wedding and Jesus is making wine.

When you study the Gospel of John in depth you realize there is organization and a purpose to everything he writes. Yet, it still cracks me up that we go from philosophy and theology to partying.

We bounce back and forth in John from the deep and heady to the down and dirty real world stuff.

As I think about this story, the thing that strikes me most is, presence. Jesus was there. He was at the party. Not only that, but Jesus brought the disciples with him. You would think that a wedding would be a bit below the divine Son of God, wouldn’t you? I mean, doesn’t Jesus have better things to be doing rather than chilling at a wedding reception? He could be healing some people or teaching his disciples about the mysteries of the universe. But, no. He’s at a wedding reception. This reception must have been a banger too, they were almost out of wine.

Did you catch the detail we pick in what the host says to the bridegroom? Most people bring out cheap wine after everyone is drunk, but not this guy, he brings out the good stuff! This party was on point and it was not stopping. Jesus’ mom, Mary, was going to make sure of it.

But, again, the heart of this story is presence. Jesus showed up at the wedding feast. He was there.

For those of us that are Christians, are we “there”? Do we show up? Are we present in the world? Or do we hide in our holy huddles, sit back, and judge all those people.

It’s funny, I host a conversation each week called Doubt on Tap at a local bar. That makes a lot of folks in my religious sphere uncomfortable. They don’t like the idea that a pastor is drinking an alcoholic beverage (1) and is in a place where many people are drinking alcoholic beverages (2) and that the people that I spend time with are not “church” people. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me, “Is that really the message you want to send?”

Yep. It is.

I’m pretty sure that Jesus would be more likely to be found in our bars and pubs than in some of our churches.

Does that make you uncomfortable? It’s OK. It made the religious people of Jesus’ day uncomfortable too.

What’s your wedding feast? Where are you being invited as a guest? Go show up and be present.

It’s what Jesus would do.

IT WAS A REAL BANGER!

John 2:1-12

Three days later there was a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus' mother was there. Jesus and his disciples were guests also. When they started running low on wine at the wedding banquet, Jesus' mother told him, "They're just about out of wine."

Jesus said, "Is that any of our business, Mother—yours or mine? This isn't my time. Don't push me."

She went ahead anyway, telling the servants, "Whatever he tells you, do it."

Six stoneware water pots were there, used by the Jews for ritual washings. Each held twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus ordered the servants, "Fill the pots with water." And they filled them to the brim.

"Now fill your pitchers and take them to the host," Jesus said, and they did.

When the host tasted the water that had become wine (he didn't know what had just happened but the servants, of course, knew), he called out to the bridegroom, "Everybody I know begins with their finest wines and after the guests have had their fill brings in the cheap stuff. But you've saved the best till now!"

This act in Cana of Galilee was the first sign Jesus gave, the first glimpse of his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

After this he went down to Capernaum along with his mother, brothers, and disciples, and stayed several days. // John 2:1-12, The Message

//

I was talking about the gospel of John with a friend the other day. We were talking about where he should start reading in the Bible. And I described each of the four gospels. When I described John, I said it feels like it was written by a good friend of Jesus’ who was telling the story from his perspective. It’s so different from the other gospels. It has this stream of consciousness feel to it for me. It starts with this deep philosophy about the Word being God and all that, then all of a sudden we are at a wedding and Jesus is making wine.

When you study the Gospel of John in depth you realize there is organization and a purpose to everything he writes. Yet, it still cracks me up that we go from philosophy and theology to partying.

We bounce back and forth in John from the deep and heady to the down and dirty real world stuff.

As I think about this story, the thing that strikes me most is, presence. Jesus was there. He was at the party. Not only that, but Jesus brought the disciples with him. You would think that a wedding would be a bit below the divine Son of God, wouldn’t you? I mean, doesn’t Jesus have better things to be doing rather than chilling at a wedding reception? He could be healing some people or teaching his disciples about the mysteries of the universe. But, no. He’s at a wedding reception. This reception must have been a banger too, they were almost out of wine.

Did you catch the detail we pick in what the host says to the bridegroom? Most people bring out cheap wine after everyone is drunk, but not this guy, he brings out the good stuff! This party was on point and it was not stopping. Jesus’ mom, Mary, was going to make sure of it.

But, again, the heart of this story is presence. Jesus showed up at the wedding feast. He was there.

For those of us that are Christians, are we “there”? Do we show up? Are we present in the world? Or do we hide in our holy huddles, sit back, and judge all those people.

It’s funny, I host a conversation each week called Doubt on Tap at a local bar. That makes a lot of folks in my religious sphere uncomfortable. They don’t like the idea that a pastor is drinking an alcoholic beverage (1) and is in a place where many people are drinking alcoholic beverages (2) and that the people that I spend time with are not “church” people. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me, “Is that really the message you want to send?”

Yep. It is.

I’m pretty sure that Jesus would be more likely to be found in our bars and pubs than in some of our churches.

Does that make you uncomfortable? It’s OK. It made the religious people of Jesus’ day uncomfortable too.

What’s your wedding feast? Where are you being invited as a guest? Go show up and be present.

It’s what Jesus would do.

YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHING YET

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. When he got there, he ran across Philip and said, “Come, follow me.” (Philip’s hometown was Bethsaida, the same as Andrew and Peter.)

Philip went and found Nathanael and told him, “We’ve found the One Moses wrote of in the Law, the One preached by the prophets. It’s Jesus, Joseph’s son, the one from Nazareth!” Nathanael said, “Nazareth? You’ve got to be kidding.”

But Philip said, “Come, see for yourself.”

When Jesus saw him coming he said, “There’s a real Israelite, not a false bone in his body.”

Nathanael said, “Where did you get that idea? You don’t know me.”

Jesus answered, “One day, long before Philip called you here, I saw you under the fig tree.”

Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi! You are the Son of God, the King of Israel!”

Jesus said, “You’ve become a believer simply because I say I saw you one day sitting under the fig tree? You haven’t seen anything yet! Before this is over you’re going to see heaven open and God’s angels descending to the Son of Man and ascending again.” // John 1:43–51, The Message

//

Have you ever noticed that sometimes the smallest, most insignificant, act of faith can have HUGE repercussions? I bet you can think of a time when you did something that you thought was not “a big deal” but it meant the world to someone else. Or maybe you can think of a time when the shoe was on the other foot.

Small acts of faith or love leave lasting impact on those around us.

I love this story for some many reasons. Nathanael’s response is absolutely priceless, “Nazareth? You’ve got to be kidding!” Jesus was a dude that came from a place that was on the wrong side of the olive tree. Nathanael just couldn’t believe his brother Phillip was telling him that the Messiah had come from Nazareth, that was too much to be true.

Then Nathanael’s response to Jesus after being complimented! “You don’t know me!” Nate was one suspicious guy! It just makes me smile. It points to the humanity of all this. Can’t you see this all playing out in your mind’s eye?

When Jesus says, “I saw you under a fig tree…” Nathanael is blown away. Jesus’ response is great, “You ain’t seen nothing yet son…”

This whole interaction is just full of wit, humor, and leaves us with the simple truth: A small step of faith opens a door wide to limitless possibilities.

As I was reading this story this morning I could not help but have images of Doctor Who run through my mind. Doctor Who is a science fiction show from the BBC. It’s been on TV for decades and it’s pretty darn good, if you like sci-fi. The Doctor’s time machine is called The T.A.R.D.I.S., which stands for “Time And Relative Dimension In Space.” This T.A.R.D.I.S. is an old blue English Police Box. It doesn’t look like much. The running gag through the whole show is that the T.A.R.D.I.S. is bigger on the inside. When you step inside this seemingly inauspicious police box you are stepping into an existence where time and space have few limits. The question always before you is, “WHEN and WHERE do you want to go next?” To have the adventure you simply step inside.

This is what I imagine Jesus was saying to Nathanael in that moment. Your one little act of faith has opened before you an existence like you’ve never thought possible.

Every day that we wake up and choose to enter in with just a little bit of faith is another day where we can live expectantly.

Jesus says in John 10:10, “I came that they might have life and have it to the full.”

Jesus also says here in John 1, “You ain’t seen nothing yet…”

I think part of living life to the full is living each day in wonder, awe, and expecting the unexpected. To live life like that requires a pinch of faith and a step out the door.

Let’s live each day in the Jesus reality, that reality where we ain’t seen nothing yet!

YOU AIN&#039;T SEEN NOTHING YET!

John 1:43-51

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. When he got there, he ran across Philip and said, "Come, follow me." (Philip's hometown was Bethsaida, the same as Andrew and Peter.)

Philip went and found Nathanael and told him, "We've found the One Moses wrote of in the Law, the One preached by the prophets. It's Jesus, Joseph's son, the one from Nazareth!" Nathanael said, "Nazareth? You've got to be kidding."

But Philip said, "Come, see for yourself."

When Jesus saw him coming he said, "There's a real Israelite, not a false bone in his body."

Nathanael said, "Where did you get that idea? You don't know me."

Jesus answered, "One day, long before Philip called you here, I saw you under the fig tree."

Nathanael exclaimed, "Rabbi! You are the Son of God, the King of Israel!"

Jesus said, "You've become a believer simply because I say I saw you one day sitting under the fig tree? You haven't seen anything yet! Before this is over you're going to see heaven open and God's angels descending to the Son of Man and ascending again." // John 1:43-51

//

Have you ever noticed that sometimes the smallest, most insignificant, act of faith can have HUGE repercussions? I bet you can think of a time when you did something that you thought was not “a big deal” but it meant the world to someone else. Or maybe you can think of a time when the shoe was on the other foot.

Small acts of faith or love leave lasting impact on those around us.

I love this story for some many reasons. Nathanael’s response is absolutely priceless, “Nazareth? You’ve got to be kidding!” Jesus was a dude that came from a place that was on the wrong side of the olive tree. Nathanael just couldn’t believe his brother Phillip was telling him that the Messiah had come from Nazareth, that was too much to be true.

Then Nathanael’s response to Jesus after being complimented! “You don’t know me!” Nate was one suspicious guy! It just makes me smile. It points to the humanity of all this. Can’t you see this all playing out in your mind’s eye?

When Jesus says, “I saw you under a fig tree…” Nathanael is blown away. Jesus’ response is great, “You ain’t seen nothing yet son…”

This whole interaction is just full of wit, humor, and leaves us with the simple truth: A small step of faith opens a door wide to limitless possibilities.

As I was reading this story this morning I could not help but have images of Doctor Who run through my mind. Doctor Who is a science fiction show from the BBC. It’s been on TV for decades and it’s pretty darn good, if you like sci-fi. The Doctor’s time machine is called The T.A.R.D.I.S., which stands for “Time And Relative Dimension In Space.” This T.A.R.D.I.S. is an old blue English Police Box. It doesn’t look like much. The running gag through the whole show is that the T.A.R.D.I.S. is bigger on the inside. When you step inside this seemingly inauspicious police box you are stepping into an existence where time and space have few limits. The question always before you is, “WHEN and WHERE do you want to go next?” To have the adventure you simply step inside.

This is what I imagine Jesus was saying to Nathanael in that moment. Your one little act of faith has opened before you an existence like you’ve never thought possible.

Every day that we wake up and choose to enter in with just a little bit of faith is another day where we can live expectantly.

Jesus says in John 10:10, “I came that they might have life and have it to the full.”

Jesus also says here in John 1, “You ain’t seen nothing yet…”

I think part of living life to the full is living each day in wonder, awe, and expecting the unexpected. To live life like that requires a pinch of faith and a step out the door.

Let’s live each day in the Jesus reality, that reality where we ain’t seen nothing yet!

THERE HE IS!

The next day John was back at his post with two disciples, who were watching. He looked up, saw Jesus walking nearby, and said, "Here he is, God's Passover Lamb."

The two disciples heard him and went after Jesus. Jesus looked over his shoulder and said to them, "What are you after?"

They said, "Rabbi" (which means "Teacher"), "where are you staying?"

He replied, "Come along and see for yourself."

They came, saw where he was living, and ended up staying with him for the day. It was late afternoon when this happened.

Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, was one of the two who heard John's witness and followed Jesus. The first thing he did after finding where Jesus lived was find his own brother, Simon, telling him, "We've found the Messiah" (that is, "Christ"). He immediately led him to Jesus.

Jesus took one look up and said, "You're John's son, Simon? From now on your name is Cephas" (or Peter, which means "Rock"). // John 1:35-42, The Message

John the Baptist continues to intrigue me as I read these early parts of the Gospel of John. I am finding him instructive for me as a pastor.

We live in a day and age where pastors build platforms. I am guilty of it. I failed at it, but there has been a significant season in my life where I was deeply desirous of building my platform to broaden my influence. Sometimes you feel like if you haven’t published a book or been invited to speak at conferences you’re some sort of failure. Some of us seek to build our influence by building mega-churches. We come to the conclusion that anything that’s not illegal or immoral is fine to do if we can add another bottom in the pews.

It really is striking to think about the difference between the way many of us pastors act and the way John did.

First, you have John who was out being present in the community. Peterson puts it this way, “he was at his post.” So many of us think that our post is the pulpit and that we need to spend most of our time in our office polishing up a sermon. We truly believe that our 20-40 minute talk each week will disciple, mentor, and transform people’s lives. After being on both sides of the pulpit I am quite confident that sermons by and large don’t change people’s lives. What I have found is that a deep, abiding, personal relationship with someone creates an environment where a sermon is like the Hershey’s chocolate syrup on a sundae. In the moment someone may experience something but it was built on the patient ferment of relationship. More of us need to realize that our office isn’t our post. Our office is our refuge where we go to recoup and rest. The coffee shops, bars, bowling alleys, and neighborhoods are our posts. We need to expend our energy there and then return to our refuge to refuel.

Second, John was more concerned with those who he was building into seeing Jesus than seeing him. Did you notice that? As soon as he saw Jesus, he pointed his disciples to Jesus. What did they do? They left John and followed Jesus! Also notice that Jesus was out and about in the community too. John’s greatest desire was people to follow Christ. His goal through his teaching and mentoring was for people to leave him and follow Christ. It’s pretty amazing to think that is was through John’s influence that the core of the apostolic band was being formed. Peter, arguably the most famous, came to Christ because his brother Andrew saw Jesus because of John.

When it’s not about us, it can be about Jesus. This means that we must be faithful to attend our posts and point people to Christ.

You don’t have to be a pastor to live like John. You can be anything. It just so happens that my calling is that of pastor. I’d love to hear from you about how you see what I might start calling the “John Principle” play out in your profession or life at the moment? Where’s your “post” and what’s your refuge? Who do you come into contact with that you get to point our Christ to?

THERE HE IS!

John 1:35-42

The next day John was back at his post with two disciples, who were watching. He looked up, saw Jesus walking nearby, and said, "Here he is, God's Passover Lamb."
The two disciples heard him and went after Jesus. Jesus looked over his shoulder and said to them, “What are you after?”
They said, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”
He replied, “Come along and see for yourself.”
They came, saw where he was living, and ended up staying with him for the day. It was late afternoon when this happened.
Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, was one of the two who heard John’s witness and followed Jesus. The first thing he did after finding where Jesus lived was find his own brother, Simon, telling him, “We’ve found the Messiah” (that is, “Christ”). He immediately led him to Jesus.
Jesus took one look up and said, “You’re John’s son, Simon? From now on your name is Cephas” (or Peter, which means “Rock”). // John 1:35-42, The Message

John the Baptist continues to intrigue me as I read these early parts of the Gospel of John. I am finding him instructive for me as a pastor.

We live in a day and age where pastors build platforms. I am guilty of it. I failed at it, but there has been a significant season in my life where I was deeply desirous of building my platform to broaden my influence. Sometimes you feel like if you haven’t published a book or been invited to speak at conferences you’re some sort of failure. Some of us seek to build our influence by building mega-churches. We come to the conclusion that anything that’s not illegal or immoral is fine to do if we can add another bottom in the pews.

It really is striking to think about the difference between the way many of us pastors act and the way John did.

First, you have John who was out being present in the community. Peterson puts it this way, “he was at his post.” So many of us think that our post is the pulpit and that we need to spend most of our time in our office polishing up a sermon. We truly believe that our 20-40 minute talk each week will disciple, mentor, and transform people’s lives. After being on both sides of the pulpit I am quite confident that sermons by and large don’t change people’s lives. What I have found is that a deep, abiding, personal relationship with someone creates an environment where a sermon is like the Hershey’s chocolate syrup on a sundae. In the moment someone may experience something but it was built on the patient ferment of relationship. More of us need to realize that our office isn’t our post. Our office is our refuge where we go to recoup and rest. The coffee shops, bars, bowling alleys, and neighborhoods are our posts. We need to expend our energy there and then return to our refuge to refuel.

Second, John was more concerned with those who he was building into seeing Jesus than seeing him. Did you notice that? As soon as he saw Jesus, he pointed his disciples to Jesus. What did they do? They left John and followed Jesus! Also notice that Jesus was out and about in the community too. John’s greatest desire was people to follow Christ. His goal through his teaching and mentoring was for people to leave him and follow Christ. It’s pretty amazing to think that is was through John’s influence that the core of the apostolic band was being formed. Peter, arguably the most famous, came to Christ because his brother Andrew saw Jesus because of John.

When it’s not about us, it can be about Jesus. This means that we must be faithful to attend our posts and point people to Christ.

You don’t have to be a pastor to live like John. You can be anything. It just so happens that my calling is that of pastor. I’d love to hear from you about how you see what I might start calling the “John Principle” play out in your profession or life at the moment? Where’s your “post” and what’s your refuge? Who do you come into contact with that you get to point our Christ to?

GOD-REVEALER

The very next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and yelled out, "Here he is, God's Passover Lamb! He forgives the sins of the world! This is the man I've been talking about, 'the One who comes after me but is really ahead of me.' I knew nothing about who he was—only this: that my task has been to get Israel ready to recognize him as the God-Revealer. That is why I came here baptizing with water, giving you a good bath and scrubbing sins from your life so you can get a fresh start with God."

John clinched his witness with this: "I watched the Spirit, like a dove flying down out of the sky, making himself at home in him. I repeat, I know nothing about him except this: The One who authorized me to baptize with water told me, 'The One on whom you see the Spirit come down and stay, this One will baptize with the Holy Spirit.' That's exactly what I saw happen, and I'm telling you, there's no question about it: This is the Son of God." // John 1:29-34, The Message

I spent a long time living as a missionary. Ten years to be exact. Amy and I worked with one of the largest missionary organizations in the world. We spent a decade serving college students. We invited them to become Christ-centered laborers. Our lives were shaped by prayer, evangelism, discipleship, and sending. It was an amazing time where we grew in our faith, we grew in our leadership, and we grew into adulthood. I would not trade that time for anything in the world.

Over the last ten years or so, I have reflected often about our time as college missionaries. I think about the many things that I would have done differently.

There were so many things.

During that time as someone who was young in my faith and learning to follow the way of Christ I was very strident in my desire to win for him. I sharpened my rhetorical skills and sought to learn from the best apologists about how to defend the faith.

I won a lot.

So many college students left an argument with me with their tails between their legs after a verbal and intellectual beat down. I really liked winning.

I’m not so sure that I was all that great at preparing people for the God-revealer though.

If there was one thing that I could change about my time as a college missionary it is that. I wish I had learned the critical importance of preparing people for the God-revealer moreso than an argument winner.

As I read this story this morning about John the Baptist two things grabbed my attention. First, that John understood himself to be someone who was preparing others for the God-revealer. This meant that John was not about his own ego or tallying up numbers of baptisms or wining arguments for the sake of winning arguments. Everything he was doing, everything he was about, was to prepare for the God-revealer.

Notice very clearly, that John was not the God-revealer. No, John was the preparer for the God-revealer.

Jesus, the Christ, he was the God-revealer.

And, that’s the second big thing that I’m wrestling with this morning. This idea of Jesus being the God-revealer boggles my mind a bit. It’s one of those, “It’s right there in front of your face! How can you not notice how big of a deal this is?” kind of things.

I don’t think that I have really and truly wrestled with the deep and abiding reality of Jesus as the God-revealer. Sure, I know that he’s the incarnate God-man, second person of the Trinity, the image of the invisible God, and all that. But, to really think and dwell and process this reality that Christ is the God-revealer, that if I want to see God I need to look at Jesus. There is no other person or place to look for God. God is most clearly revealed in Christ.

What is God like? God is like Christ.

So, once again, I’m challenged to spend time in the middle. If I want to know God, then I need to know Christ. If I want to know Christ I need to spend more time reading, meditating, and getting to know the Christ between Christmas and Easter. The middle of the story is where the person of Christ is revealed and in so doing, reveals God.

I’m also beginning to wrestle with the reality that my calling as a pastor is to prepare people to meet the God-revealer. I’d argue that is part and parcel to following Christ. So, how I live and love and follow in The Way is more important than winning arguments.

I desperately want my life to prepare people to meet the God-revealer so that they can join me in The Way too.

GOD-REVEALER

John 1:29-34

The very next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and yelled out, "Here he is, God's Passover Lamb! He forgives the sins of the world! This is the man I've been talking about, 'the One who comes after me but is really ahead of me.' I knew nothing about who he was—only this: that my task has been to get Israel ready to recognize him as the God-Revealer. That is why I came here baptizing with water, giving you a good bath and scrubbing sins from your life so you can get a fresh start with God."
John clinched his witness with this: “I watched the Spirit, like a dove flying down out of the sky, making himself at home in him. I repeat, I know nothing about him except this: The One who authorized me to baptize with water told me, ‘The One on whom you see the Spirit come down and stay, this One will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ That’s exactly what I saw happen, and I’m telling you, there’s no question about it: This is the Son of God.” // John 1:29-34, The Message

I spent a long time living as a missionary. Ten years to be exact. Amy and I worked with one of the largest missionary organizations in the world. We spent a decade serving college students. We invited them to become Christ-centered laborers. Our lives were shaped by prayer, evangelism, discipleship, and sending. It was an amazing time where we grew in our faith, we grew in our leadership, and we grew into adulthood. I would not trade that time for anything in the world.

Over the last ten years or so, I have reflected often about our time as college missionaries. I think about the many things that I would have done differently.

There were so many things.

During that time as someone who was young in my faith and learning to follow the way of Christ I was very strident in my desire to win for him. I sharpened my rhetorical skills and sought to learn from the best apologists about how to defend the faith.

I won a lot.

So many college students left an argument with me with their tails between their legs after a verbal and intellectual beat down. I really liked winning.

I’m not so sure that I was all that great at preparing people for the God-revealer though.

If there was one thing that I could change about my time as a college missionary it is that. I wish I had learned the critical importance of preparing people for the God-revealer moreso than an argument winner.

As I read this story this morning about John the Baptist two things grabbed my attention. First, that John understood himself to be someone who was preparing others for the God-revealer. This meant that John was not about his own ego or tallying up numbers of baptisms or wining arguments for the sake of winning arguments. Everything he was doing, everything he was about, was to prepare for the God-revealer.

Notice very clearly, that John was not the God-revealer. No, John was the preparer for the God-revealer.

Jesus, the Christ, he was the God-revealer.

And, that’s the second big thing that I’m wrestling with this morning. This idea of Jesus being the God-revealer boggles my mind a bit. It’s one of those, “It’s right there in front of your face! How can you not notice how big of a deal this is?” kind of things.

I don’t think that I have really and truly wrestled with the deep and abiding reality of Jesus as the God-revealer. Sure, I know that he’s the incarnate God-man, second person of the Trinity, the image of the invisible God, and all that. But, to really think and dwell and process this reality that Christ is the God-revealer, that if I want to see God I need to look at Jesus. There is no other person or place to look for God. God is most clearly revealed in Christ.

What is God like? God is like Christ.

So, once again, I’m challenged to spend time in the middle. If I want to know God, then I need to know Christ. If I want to know Christ I need to spend more time reading, meditating, and getting to know the Christ between Christmas and Easter. The middle of the story is where the person of Christ is revealed and in so doing, reveals God.

I’m also beginning to wrestle with the reality that my calling as a pastor is to prepare people to meet the God-revealer. I’d argue that is part and parcel to following Christ. So, how I live and love and follow in The Way is more important than winning arguments.

I desperately want my life to prepare people to meet the God-revealer so that they can join me in The Way too.

WE WANT ANSWERS!

When Jews from Jerusalem sent a group of priests and officials to ask John who he was, he was completely honest. He didn't evade the question. He told the plain truth: 

"I am not the Messiah."

They pressed him, "Who, then? Elijah?"

"I am not."

"The Prophet?"

"No."

Exasperated, they said, "Who, then? We need an answer for those who sent us. Tell us something—anything!—about yourself."

"I'm thunder in the desert: 'Make the road straight for God!' I'm doing what the prophet Isaiah preached."

Those sent to question him were from the Pharisee party. Now they had a question of their own: "If you're neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet, why do you baptize?"

John answered, "I only baptize using water. A person you don't recognize has taken his stand in your midst. He comes after me, but he is not in second place to me. I'm not even worthy to hold his coat for him."

These conversations took place in Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing at the time. // John 1:19-28, The Message

I think it’s interesting that those of us in the modern Christian movement give the Pharisees a really hard time when we read the Gospels. We tend to think of them as something of a foil, and perhaps that is how the writers of the Gospels wanted us to experience them.

Yet, as I read and process the Gospels more I am coming to realize that the Pharisees and other religious leaders were very similar to the Christians of our day.

One line in this story punched me in the face: “We need an answer for those who sent us.”

An aside: If you’re of a certain age, your mind likely just pictured Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson yelling at each other in a court room.

I think it struck me because as I look around at our world it feels like many of us are shouting, “WE NEED AN ANSWER!”

During times of great uncertainty, distress, or suffering we desperately want to know why and we want answers. When I was in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina most of my conversations boiled down to, “We need an answer.” As I’ve walked through various heartaches with people the questions are inevitably boiled down to, “We need an answer.” There is something comforting about having answers. We really don’t like uncertainty at all and mystery is not something that we tend to be comfortable with.

John gave them answers. But, they weren’t satisfied. They wanted more. There was never an end to the questions that they wanted answers to. John engages with them but his responses cause exasperation on their end and even more questions.

I think that what we see in John is someone who was trying to lead people toward a life of faith. Faith is living in the midst of uncertainty and embracing it for the beautiful mystery that it is. When we live in faith we are left with a sense of wonder, awe, and hope. Faith calls us toward a posture of learning and humility.

When John and Jesus show up they upset the certainty apple cart of the religious industrial complex of their age.

When John and Jesus show up they upset the certainty apple cart of the religious industrial complex of our age.

It turns out that living in the way of Jesus is to live as one who seeks to learn, one who learns to be content in uncertainty, and one who is humble enough to acknowledge that he or she doesn’t have all the answers.

I don’t want to fear uncertainty any longer, I want to embrace it. As one of my favorite songwriters wrote:

But I get turned around
I mistake my happiness for blessing
But I'm blessed as the poor
Still I judge success by how I'm dressing

So keep 'em coming these lines on the road
And keep me responsible, be it a light or heavy load
And keep me guessing with these blessings in disguise
And I'll walk with grace my feet and with faith my eyes

// Faith My Eyes by Caedmon's Call

May we each walk with grace our feet and faith our eyes!

WE WANT ANSWERS!

John 1:19-28

When Jews from Jerusalem sent a group of priests and officials to ask John who he was, he was completely honest. He didn't evade the question. He told the plain truth: 
“I am not the Messiah.”
They pressed him, “Who, then? Elijah?”
“I am not.”
“The Prophet?”
“No.”
Exasperated, they said, “Who, then? We need an answer for those who sent us. Tell us something—anything!—about yourself.”
“I’m thunder in the desert: ‘Make the road straight for God!’ I’m doing what the prophet Isaiah preached.”
Those sent to question him were from the Pharisee party. Now they had a question of their own: “If you’re neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet, why do you baptize?”
John answered, “I only baptize using water. A person you don’t recognize has taken his stand in your midst. He comes after me, but he is not in second place to me. I’m not even worthy to hold his coat for him.”
These conversations took place in Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing at the time. // John 1:19-28, The Message

I think it’s interesting that those of us in the modern Christian movement give the Pharisees a really hard time when we read the Gospels. We tend to think of them as something of a foil, and perhaps that is how the writers of the Gospels wanted us to experience them.

Yet, as I read and process the Gospels more I am coming to realize that the Pharisees and other religious leaders were very similar to the Christians of our day.

One line in this story punched me in the face: “We need an answer for those who sent us.”

An aside: If you’re of a certain age, your mind likely just pictured Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson yelling at each other in a court room.

I think it struck me because as I look around at our world it feels like many of us are shouting, “WE NEED AN ANSWER!”

During times of great uncertainty, distress, or suffering we desperately want to know why and we want answers. When I was in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina most of my conversations boiled down to, “We need an answer.” As I’ve walked through various heartaches with people the questions are inevitably boiled down to, “We need an answer.” There is something comforting about having answers. We really don’t like uncertainty at all and mystery is not something that we tend to be comfortable with.

John gave them answers. But, they weren’t satisfied. They wanted more. There was never an end to the questions that they wanted answers to. John engages with them but his responses cause exasperation on their end and even more questions.

I think that what we see in John is someone who was trying to lead people toward a life of faith. Faith is living in the midst of uncertainty and embracing it for the beautiful mystery that it is. When we live in faith we are left with a sense of wonder, awe, and hope. Faith calls us toward a posture of learning and humility.

When John and Jesus show up they upset the certainty apple cart of the religious industrial complex of their age.

When John and Jesus show up they upset the certainty apple cart of the religious industrial complex of our age.

It turns out that living in the way of Jesus is to live as one who seeks to learn, one who learns to be content in uncertainty, and one who is humble enough to acknowledge that he or she doesn’t have all the answers.

I don’t want to fear uncertainty any longer, I want to embrace it. As one of my favorite songwriters wrote:

But I get turned around
I mistake my happiness for blessing
But I’m blessed as the poor
Still I judge success by how I’m dressing

So keep ‘em coming these lines on the road
And keep me responsible, be it a light or heavy load
And keep me guessing with these blessings in disguise
And I’ll walk with grace my feet and with faith my eyes
// Faith My Eyes by Caedmon’s Call

May we each walk with grace our feet and faith our eyes!

THE MIDDLE

John 1:15-18

John pointed him out and called, "This is the One! The One I told you was coming after me but in fact was ahead of me. He has always been ahead of me, has always had the first word."
We all live off his generous bounty,
gift after gift after gift.
We got the basics from Moses,
and then this exuberant giving and receiving,
This endless knowing and understanding—
all this came through Jesus, the Messiah.
No one has ever seen God,
not so much as a glimpse.
This one-of-a-kind God-Expression,
who exists at the very heart of the Father,
has made him plain as day.

Over the last few weeks I have been thinking a lot about Jesus. I know, I know, I am a pastor so of course I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus. Often as pastors we don’t think much about Jesus himself. There are many seasons where we are thinking about other things. We focus on growing ministries and all that entails. Sadly, it usually entails very little thinking and talking about Jesus.

I have been reading a book by N.T. Wright entitled, When God Became King. It’s a great read so far! In it he challenges us to think about the Jesus in the middle.

Wait, what does that mean?

Many of us focus on the Jesus of the manger and the cross. But, do we dwell deeply on the Jesus in the middle of those two events?

You see the “one-of-a-kind God-Expression” that is Christ is found in his birth, his cross, and also in his life!

When we place our sole or ultimate focus on his birth and death we can begin to relate to Christ in a purely transactional way. But, this Christ “who exists at the very heart of the Father,” is so much more than just his birth and death.

When we read through the Gospel of John I think we find that the second half of John 10:10 might be a bit of a thesis statement, “I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full.”

It strikes me that if we want to learn to live the Jesus way we need to pay closer attention to the middle. We need to read and meditate on the life of this Christ who is the “one-of-a-kind God-Expression.”

How might we change?

How does his life challenge our lives?

What would it look like for us to learn to live and love the way that he does?

As awe inspiring as the birth of Christ is and as necessary as the death and resurrection of Christ is, the life of Christ is just as crucial to learning to follow the way.

When someone looks at our gravestone and sees the beginning date and the end date those are not all that interesting. What really matters is what we did with the dash in the middle. While the birth and death of Jesus has significance untold, his life is just as critical.

So, as we launch into this new year together, I hope you will join me as I seek to spend time in the middle with Jesus.