Essays on Daniel Rose: The Pastor Next Door

Revelation 10 - Following the Lamb: Hope, Harvest, and the Gospel in Revelation 14

Tue, 14 Apr 2026 17:17:45 -0400

A reflection on Revelation 14:1–20

To listen to the unabridged audio subscribe to the podcast: Following the Lamb: Hope, Harvest, and the Gospel in Revelation 14

One of the easiest traps to fall into when reading Revelation is forgetting that we are reading symbols. It happens subtly — we encounter a passage that seems straightforward, one that aligns neatly with our expectations, and we quietly decide that this part must be literal. But Revelation doesn’t give us that option. John is telling us throughout: these are images. These are symbols. A principled reading of the text means we stay consistent, even when a passage seems to confirm what we already believe.

With that in mind, let’s walk through Revelation 14.

The Lamb and the 144,000 (Revelation 14:1–5)

After the darkness of Revelation 13 — the dragon, the two monsters, the mark of the beast — we turn the page and find something entirely different. The Lamb stands on Mount Zion, and with him are 144,000 people who bear his name and the name of his Father written on their foreheads.

This is a deliberate contrast. In chapter 13, people are marked with the sign of the enemy. Here, the followers of the Lamb are marked with something deeper: the name of the Father and the Son written on them. This isn’t incidental. When someone’s name is written on you, it speaks to ownership and identity in the most fundamental sense. These people belong to God. They are defined by him.

The 144,000 are described as celibate — a detail some make too much of. Read in its Jewish context, this points to a military image. In ancient Israel, soldiers on active duty were expected to abstain from sex during battle (recall Uriah’s refusal to sleep with Bathsheba while his troops were in the field). The imagery here depicts the 144,000 as warriors always ready for battle, always prepared to defend the name of the Lamb.

Two phrases stand out. First: “They follow the Lamb wherever he goes.” This echoes the Gospel of John, where following Jesus is a central, recurring theme — which leads some scholars to suggest a connection between the author of Revelation and the author of the fourth Gospel. Second: “No lie has been found in their mouths.” This is the exact opposite of the dragon and the monsters, whose defining characteristic is deception. The followers of Jesus are marked by truth; the followers of the dragon are marked by lies.

As N.T. Wright puts it: “Following the Lamb means rejecting the lie, always and forever.”

Three Angels and the Eternal Gospel (Revelation 14:6–13)

The first angel carries “an eternal gospel” to all nations, tribes, languages, and peoples. This is worth pausing on.

We often think of the gospel as a transaction: I confess my sin, God forgives me, the deal is done. That understanding isn’t wrong, exactly — but it’s far too small. At its heart, the gospel is a proclamation of victory. When a Roman emperor conquered a foreign territory, a messenger was sent back to announce the news: Caesar has won. The empire has expanded. Everything has changed. That was called gospel.

The eternal gospel John describes here is this: God has acted. Through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, the very nature of existence has been transformed. Everything is different now. This is not fire insurance. This is a new way of living in a world where God has already won.

The second angel announces the fall of Babylon — a symbol every Jewish reader would have immediately understood as exile and oppression. When Babylon falls, the people come home. The land is restored. The temple is rebuilt. In Revelation, Babylon is Rome — but Rome is also a principle. Any oppressive power in history can be Babylon. And the good news is that God brings justice against every Babylon.

The third angel warns of God’s wrath against those who worship the monster. Here again, we must resist the urge to abandon the symbolic framework. This is not primarily a treatise on eternal conscious torment. It is a message to persecuted Christians: Hold on. Your suffering is seen. God will set things right. The imagery is meant to bring comfort, not to satisfy our desire for vengeance.

Wright puts it plainly: in passages like this, John is working with symbols, and the task is not to literalize them but to probe through to the reality they point toward. That reality is this — God is going to sort it all out.

The Harvest (Revelation 14:14–20)

Then comes the famous harvest passage — and its disturbing ending: blood flowing from the winepress as high as a horse’s bridle for about 200 miles.

Our instinct is to read this as judgment. But here’s the thing: throughout the New Testament, harvest imagery is consistently good news. Harvest means the people of God are being gathered in. The “Grapes of Wrath” phrase entered popular culture with a dark connotation, but that’s not what John is describing.

Wright writes: “There should be no doubt that this passage describing the harvest and the vintage is meant to be an occasion of great uninhibited joy.”

We’ve lost touch with what harvest means. We no longer live in agricultural societies where the harvest determined whether you ate through the winter. Harvest was joy. It was celebration. It was the culmination of everything you had worked and waited for.

So what about the blood?

Consider this: where is Jesus taken to be crucified? Outside the city. And in this passage, the winepress is trodden outside the city. This is the path of the followers of Jesus — those who follow him wherever he goes, including outside the city gates.

And consider what happens to grapes. Grapes are good. But grapes find their greatest value by being crushed into wine. The suffering of persecution, the crushing by the powers of the dragon and the monsters — this is not the end of the story. It is transformation. The grape becomes wine. The suffering becomes something far greater.

Not a single grape is lost.

This is the whole message of Revelation in miniature: Persevere. Press on. Follow Jesus wherever he leads. Though the dragon and the monsters may crush you, Christ transforms you. You become wine. You will be brought in.

The Thread Running Through It All

What holds Revelation 14 together is a single call: follow the Lamb.

Follow him in truth — no lies on your lips, no compromise with the methods of the dragon.

Follow him in perseverance — not by fighting on the enemy’s terms, not by chasing power or manipulating outcomes, but by walking in self-sacrificial love.

Follow him outside the city — into suffering, if that is where he leads, trusting that the winepress is not the end.

The way we fight the dragon is not to become like the dragon. The ends do not justify the means. The only means truly available to the followers of Jesus are the means of Jesus himself: truth, love, and the cross.

Press on. The harvest is coming. The wine will be worth it.

This reflection is part of an ongoing series through the book of Revelation here at Beyond Sunday School.

Mandate of Mishpat - When God Turns the Mirror Around

Sun, 12 Apr 2026 14:52:24 -0400

An Introduction to Amos A sermon series on the Prophet Amos — Week 1

To listen to the full unabridged audio of this message: Mandate of Mishpat - When God Turns the Mirror Around

Let me be honest with you: the minor prophets get a bad rap.

It’s right there in the name — minor — as if Amos and Hosea and Micah were somehow second-tier voices. But the only reason they’re called minor is because they were concise. They didn’t ramble on like Isaiah or Jeremiah. My seminary professors taught me that to be concise is to be skilled. So maybe we have it backwards. Maybe the minor prophets are the real majors.

And if that’s true, Amos deserves to be at the top of the list.

Who Was Amos?

Amos was the first. He preached before Isaiah, before Jeremiah, before Ezekiel. Isaiah likely knew of Amos’s prophecies and built upon them. When you hear resonances between Amos and Isaiah, it’s because Isaiah was standing on Amos’s shoulders.

He preached roughly from 788 to 750 BC — probably thirty years of ministry.

And here’s what I love about him: Amos was one of us.

He wasn’t a professional prophet. He wasn’t wealthy or powerful. Chapter 1 introduces him as “one of the shepherds of Tekoa.” Later, in chapter 7, when a priest named Amaziah challenges him, Amos responds simply: “I was neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet, but I was a shepherd, and I also took care of sycamore fig trees.”

He was a middle manager, essentially. Not the owner of the farm, but the one who oversaw the other shepherds. He had some authority, some responsibility — but he wasn’t at the top.

And that second job — tending sycamore fig trees — is more interesting than it sounds. These trees required a specific kind of pruning. Done wrong, they’d catch disease and die. Done right, the cuts ensured health and growth. Amos’s whole life was about making careful, precise interventions to keep living things from dying.

Then God called him to preach to Israel.

The World Amos Walked Into

To understand Amos’s message, you have to understand the world he was walking into.

Israel was at the height of its power. The great empires of the ancient Near East had receded or not yet risen, and under King Uzziah in the south and King Jeroboam II in the north, Israel had expanded its territory — perhaps even beyond the boundaries of Solomon’s kingdom. Politically, it was the top of their historical game.

The economy was booming. A new merchant class had emerged — people who could make money with money. A rising upper-middle class was ascending fast. Wealth was being generated.

But not for everyone.

The top tier of society had figured out how to trap people in debt. Can’t pay what you owe me? No problem. Just sign over your family land. You can keep working it — I’ll own it now. The rich got richer. The poor got poorer. The wealth gap was staggering.

And yet — the temples were full.

When people have extra money, they give more to church. When life is good, religious festivals multiply. More feast days, more worship gatherings, more offerings. From the outside, Israel looked like a nation firing on all cylinders: expanding territory, booming economy, thriving religion.

This is the moment Amos arrives.

The Sermon Nobody Saw Coming

Amos opens with a rhetorical masterstroke. He begins preaching judgment — but not on Israel. Not yet.

“For three sins of Damascus, even for four, I will not relent…”

The phrase “for three sins, even for four” is worth pausing on. It’s God saying: I’ve given you grace upon grace. I’ve been patient. But there’s a limit, and you’ve crossed it. Think of it like a parent who has asked their child 150 million times to do something — and finally reaches the breaking point. That’s the “three sins, even four” moment.

And the crowd loves it.

Damascus thrashed Gilead with iron-toothed threshers — a scorched-earth strategy that destroyed farmland and caused famine. A crime against humanity.

Gaza took entire communities captive and sold them into exile. Genocide by another name.

Tyre made peace treaties, built trust — then betrayed their partners and handed them over as slaves. The ancient Near Eastern equivalent of playing someone in Risk until you can wipe them off the board.

Edom pursued his brother with a sword, slaughtering the women of the land in unrelenting rage.

Ammon ripped open pregnant women to eliminate future generations and expand his borders.

Moab burned people’s bones to ash — dehumanization taken to its furthest extreme.

Each oracle lands like a punch. And every Israelite in the crowd is cheering: Yes. Get them, God. They deserve it. Hold them accountable.

Then Amos turns to Judah — the southern kingdom, Israel’s rival. And something shifts.

The charges against Judah aren’t war crimes or atrocities. They’re this: “They have rejected the law of the Lord… they have been led astray by false gods.”

Wait. God is placing spiritual unfaithfulness on the same level as genocide and ethnic cleansing?

Yes. Because to God’s people, more is expected. A higher standard applies. The crowd from the northern kingdom is still nodding — that’s right, those dirty southerners — and then Amos turns one more time.

The Punch Nobody Saw Coming

“For three sins of Israel, even for four, I will not relent.”

The record scratch heard across the ancient Near East.

Now he’s talking about us.

And what does he charge Israel with? Not military conquest. Not ethnic cleansing. Something that, on the surface, looks far more mundane:

They sell the innocent for silver — the justice system is rigged; the wealthy bribe the judges.
They trample the heads of the poor into the dust — the marginalized are not just neglected, they are actively ground down.
They deny justice to the oppressed — not passive indifference, but active denial.
They visit pagan temples — for all the religious activity, the heart is divided.
They exploit the vulnerable — the poor aren’t just ignored; their poverty is leveraged for profit.

Two Hebrew words sit at the heart of Amos’s message: mishpat and tzedakah — justice and righteousness.

Righteousness (tzedakah) is the condition of the soul. Justice (mishpat) is righteousness expressed outward in action. You cannot have one without the other. Amos’s indictment is that Israel’s actions — their injustice — is revealing something true about their souls: that for all the religious activity, something is rotten at the core.

Everything looked good. Territory expanding. Economy booming. Temples full.

But the poor were being trampled. The vulnerable were being exploited. The justice system was for sale. And some were hedging their bets at pagan temples on the side.

Why This Matters Now

I want to be careful here. We are not standing in judgment over the broader church. That is not the point. The point is to hold up a mirror — to let Amos’s words do what they were always meant to do: make us look at ourselves.

When I read Amos and then look at the American church in 2026, the parallels are uncomfortable. A nation of enormous wealth and expanding power. Churches that are busy and active. And yet — questions about whose interests are being served, whose voices are being heard, whose justice is being sought.

Amos doesn’t let us off the hook with good attendance and generous giving.

He asks a harder question: Is the grace you’ve received actually transforming you?

Because here is the thing — Amos is preaching before the cross. Before the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that changes everything. The grace we have received is greater, not lesser. It is not cheap grace. It is costly grace. It is a radical, reckless grace rooted in self-sacrificial love — and that kind of grace doesn’t leave you the same.

If grace has truly landed in your soul, it wakes you up to the brokenness of the world. It makes you unable to look away from injustice. It moves you.

The question Amos puts to us — the question we’ll be sitting with for the next several weeks — is simple and searching:

Are you being transformed on the inside in a way that shows up on the outside?

Or are we content to play the game — attend the services, make the donation, sing the songs — while the shape of our lives tells a different story?

That is the question Amos brought to Israel.

It is the question he brings to us.

This is the first installment in a series on the Prophet Amos. We’ll be wrestling with his message together over the coming weeks.

Dragons, Monsters, and the Powers Behind the Curtain

Wed, 08 Apr 2026 11:16:18 -0400

A Study in Revelation 13

You can listen to the full unabridged audio here: Dragons, Monsters, and the Powers Behind the Curtain

We’re deep in dragon-and-monster territory now. If you’ve been following along in Revelation, you know we’re not exactly in cheerful, Hallmark-card Christianity. And that’s precisely the point.

Before we dive into the text itself, a quick note on Bible navigation: all those chapter and verse numbers? They weren’t in the original. They were added later to help people find their place — and the running joke among Bible scholars is that the divisions were made by a monk on horseback, because the breaks don’t always make sense. Case in point: N.T. Wright ends chapter 12 where the NIV begins chapter 13. If you want to experience Scripture fresh, try copying a passage into a plain document, stripping out the chapter and verse numbers, and reading it without those interpretive interruptions.

Now, on to the monsters.

The First Monster: Empire and Its Machinery

“I saw a monster coming up out of the sea. It had 10 horns and seven heads… The dragon gave the monster its power and its throne and great authority.” — Revelation 13:1–2

For the Jewish imagination, the sea was never just water. It was chaos. It was the unknown. The great terrors — Behemoth, Leviathan — came from the deep. Storms rolled in off the Mediterranean. The sea was fear itself. So when a monster rises from it, the symbolism hits hard.

This monster is a composite. It draws together all four beasts from Daniel 7 — the winged lion, the bear with tusks, the four-headed leopard, the iron-toothed fourth beast — into one terrifying figure. First-century Christians would have recognized this immediately. They’d been living with Daniel’s images for generations, asking: When will God overthrow the empires that oppress us?

N.T. Wright reads the first monster as Rome — the dominant political and military power of John’s day. And he makes a crucial observation: Rome was the obvious candidate in the first century, but “the phenomenon of heartless, dehumanized pagan empire sadly did not end with the decline and demise of Rome.” The monster changes outfits. It doesn’t change nature.

Behind the monster stands the dragon — Satan, the accuser, the one pulling the strings. But Satan is not omnipresent, not omniscient. He can’t be everywhere at once. So how does he multiply his influence? Through systems. Through empires. Through the structures of power that do the dirty work on his behalf.

We can trace this across history:

The Ottoman Empire
Nazi Germany
Any structure that systematically dehumanizes human beings made in God’s image

Wherever you see power being used to crush, to dehumanize, to sow chaos rather than order — that is the fingerprint of the monster.

Identifying the Monster in Our Own Time

This raises an uncomfortable question: How do we know when we’re looking at the monster?

It’s not always obvious. And we have to hold our conclusions with humility — we will not be right every time. But Scripture gives us tools for discernment.

Paul’s letters offer what you might call diagnostic lists. In Galatians, Colossians, and Ephesians, he describes both the works of the flesh and the fruit of the Spirit. We can use these as a lens:

Is this power fomenting anger, malice, chaos, fear? That aligns with the works of the flesh.
Is this power producing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control? That aligns with the Spirit.

We’re not asking whether a political movement is explicitly building the church. We’re asking: What is the general direction of this thing? What does it produce in people?

Sometimes it remains ambiguous. Sometimes — painfully — it becomes clear. Either way, our calling as followers of Jesus is to stay alert, to exercise discernment, and to push back against dehumanizing power wherever we find it. That’s not a political statement. That’s faithfulness to the One who said blessed are the peacemakers and love your enemies.

The Second Monster: The Local Face of Empire

“Then I saw another monster coming up from the earth. It had two horns like those of a lamb. It spoke like a dragon.” — Revelation 13:11

If the first monster is the empire, the second monster is the local enforcement apparatus — the provincial governors, the regional officials, the people who make the empire’s demands feel personal and immediate.

In Rome’s case, these were the governors assigned to newly conquered provinces. Men like Pilate. Their job was to keep the emperor’s cult alive at the local level — building temples, demanding worship, integrating emperor veneration into every trade guild and marketplace. They gained power by being loyal fanatics. The more devoted they appeared to the emperor, the more they rose.

Notice the description: horns like a lamb, but the voice of a dragon. This is mimicry. It looks gentle. It looks approachable. It looks almost like a sacrificial lamb. But what comes out of its mouth? The words of the dragon. It’s a counterfeit savior — a fake lamb with a borrowed voice.

Paul picks up on this same dynamic in Colossians 1. That magnificent passage about Christ — “the image of the invisible God,” “firstborn over all creation,” “in him all things hold together” — Paul is deliberately co-opting the language Caesar used for himself. He’s saying, in effect: You’re fake. This is the real Son of God. Your claims are hollow.

The second monster reveals how evil scales down. The dragon works through the first monster. The first monster empowers the second. The second brings it all the way to your neighborhood, your trade guild, your school board meeting. We’re watching the same downstream effect in our own time — decades of national-level chaos filtering down into local communities, neighbor distrusting neighbor, institutions losing their credibility, everyone shouting and nobody listening.

The media, in many ways, fits this pattern: outwardly presenting as trustworthy and authoritative — horns like a lamb — while increasingly speaking in the voice of the dragon, amplifying division, rage, and mistrust.

666: The Number of Falling Short

“This calls for wisdom. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders should work out the monster’s number, because it is the number of a human being. Its number is 666.” — Revelation 13:18

Every generation finds a new candidate for 666. Credit cards. Bar codes. Vaccines. Microchips. The paranoia cycles on. But once again, we need to think symbolically before we think literally.

There are two compelling interpretations worth holding together:

The historical reading: In Hebrew numerology, each letter carries a numerical value. The Hebrew spelling of Nero Caesar adds up to 666. Given that Nero’s face was literally on every coin — and you couldn’t buy or sell without using coins — “receiving the mark of 666” had an almost mundane literalness to it. You couldn’t participate in the economy without using Nero’s image.

The symbolic reading: Seven is the number of wholeness and completion throughout Revelation. Six falls short of seven. So 666 is the ultimate coming up short — the number of striving toward perfection and failing at every level. It is the number of humanity in its fallenness.

The monster isn’t superhuman. The monster is profoundly, catastrophically subhuman — comprised of fallen people, animated by fallen institutions, producing the worst of what we’re capable of.

Think of it this way: governments are made of people. Media is made of people. Empires are built and sustained by people. Our collective brokenness doesn’t just stay private — it accumulates, institutionalizes, and becomes monstrous. That’s what 666 points to.

The Hard Word at the End

“This is a summons for God’s holy people to be patient and have faith.” — Revelation 13:10

This is what we’re left with. Not a battle plan. Not a political strategy. Not a program. Patience. Faith.

It’s an almost brutally simple word. And it comes right after John has just told his readers that some of them will be taken captive and some will be killed. Be patient and have faith.

That’s not Pollyanna Christianity. That’s not the prosperity gospel. That’s the hard way of Jesus — the way of the cross, the way of turned cheeks and enemies blessed and suffering received without retaliation.

Martin Luther King Jr. understood this. Before the Civil Rights marches, protesters were reminded: You are going out to break unjust laws. You will be arrested. You need to receive that arrest. If you cannot love the people who are about to arrest you, don’t go. The means matter. The ends never justify the means for a follower of Jesus. The power of that witness came precisely from the willingness to face consequences with dignity.

We’re not facing active persecution the way John’s first readers were. We should be grateful for that. But the call is the same: identify the monsters. Name what we see. Push against dehumanizing power. Do it with love and without illusions. Receive the consequences if they come.

Because death doesn’t win. It already lost. That’s the whole point of Easter.

A Final Note on Where We Stand

Someone asked a good question: As believers, are we still 666 until we get to heaven?

Here’s the theological answer: positionally, no. Paul doesn’t address his letters to “you dirty, rotten sinners” — even in Corinth. He writes to the saints. Because of Christ, positionally, we’ve been made whole. We’re sevens.

Practically? We all know what’s going on in our own hearts. We’re in process. We’re being sanctified. And that means we hold our discernment with an open hand and genuine humility. We will not always get this right. We will sometimes mistake a lamb for a dragon, and a dragon for a lamb. The goal isn’t certainty — it’s faithfulness. Pressing on. Staying alert. Trusting the Spirit who leads us into all truth.

We are, as one person put it, at about 6.99.

Next week: Revelation 14.

This post is adapted from a teaching in our ongoing series through the book of Revelation.

The Stories Are True: A Resurrection Sunday Reflection

Mon, 06 Apr 2026 16:08:25 -0400

If you would like to listen to the unabridged message listen here: The Stories Are True

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb.

She wasn’t expecting a miracle. She was expecting a body.

That detail matters more than we usually let it.

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”

So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in.
Then Simon Peter came along behind him and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.) Then the disciples went back to where they were staying.
Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.

John 20:1-18, NIV

A Race and a Garden

John’s account of the resurrection is my favorite of the four gospels — partly because of its theology, but honestly, partly because of its humor.

When Peter and John hear the news from Mary, they run to the tomb. And John, writing about himself in third person as “the disciple Jesus loved,” can’t resist noting — three times — that he reached the tomb first. You can almost see Peter rolling his eyes as he reads the manuscript. Two guys, one of the most significant moments in human history, and John is still keeping score on who won the footrace.

It’s holy and hilarious. It’s the kind of thing only real friends do.

But then the tone shifts.

Resurrection Begins in Not Knowing

We arrive at Easter Sunday dressed in our pastels, ready to celebrate. We know how the story ends. But that first resurrection morning? It was disorienting. Confusing. Heartbreaking.

Mary had watched Jesus crucified. She watched them take the body down. She watched Joseph of Arimathea lay him in the tomb and seal it with a stone. She came before daybreak to tend to his body — to offer him the dignity of proper burial rites. It was the last thing she could do for him.

And the stone was gone. The body was gone. The story, as far as she could tell, was over.

When she looks into the tomb a second time, she sees angels — and here’s something worth pausing on: this is the only appearance of angels in the Gospels where they don’t say “Do not be afraid.” They simply ask, “Why are you crying?”

Mary was so overwhelmed with grief that fear wasn’t even on the table.

She turns and sees a man she assumes is the gardener. She still doesn’t understand. And this, I think, is one of the most honest things the resurrection stories give us: resurrection often brings disorientation before it brings clarity.

We like to think that encountering the risen Christ produces immediate, confident faith. But the resurrection of Christ upends everything we think we know — especially the most basic thing: that death is final. That when someone dies, the story is over. Turn the page, close the book, put it back on the shelf.

Resurrection refuses that logic. And that refusal is disorienting.

I remember sitting in a dorm room at Illinois State with a college student, talking about the gospel. He stopped me and said — and I’m cleaning up his language — “So let me get this straight. I’ve been a dirtbag my whole life. I’ve done really bad things. And you’re telling me that Jesus, who doesn’t even know me, died for my sins 2,000 years ago — and I’m just forgiven? And I don’t have to do anything?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “You trust Christ and grace is yours.”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “There’s no way God would do this for me.”

I couldn’t argue him into it. The resurrection doesn’t always produce clarity. Sometimes it just produces holy confusion — because the grace it announces is so radical, so reckless, so completely outside the logic of how the world works, that the only honest response is: this doesn’t make sense.

Easter begins in not knowing.

The Second Garden

There’s a detail in John’s account that’s easy to miss: this tomb was in a garden.

That’s not incidental.

The story of God’s people begins in a garden — and in that first garden, everything comes apart. Creation is broken. Relationship is fractured. The whole thing unravels.

But here, in this second garden, things are being put back together. Repaired. Redeemed. Renewed.

Jesus is the gardener of a new creation.

And his entire ministry up to this point? He’s been planting seeds. Seeds scattered along a path. A lost son returning home. An enemy showing radical mercy. A tax collector crying out in humble unworthiness. Seed after seed after seed. Little previews of something just over the horizon.

The cross is a burial. Resurrection is growth. In this garden, what was buried begins to live.

One Word

Mary is standing in the garden, weeping, confused, speaking to a man she thinks is the caretaker — and then it happens.

He says one word.

“Mary.”

That’s it. Her name. And everything changes.

It’s like that moment in The Wizard of Oz when the black-and-white world suddenly bursts into color. One word, and the whole landscape transforms.

Jesus doesn’t offer her a philosophical argument for the resurrection. He doesn’t walk her through the messianic prophecies of Isaiah and Micah. He doesn’t present a doctrinal treatise. He simply says her name.

And in that moment, she knows she is known.

This is, I think, one of the most beautiful things about grace. Faith isn’t born from understanding. It’s rooted in being known. The God who knows everything about us — everything — still gave himself for us. Still rose for us. And in the moment we realize we are known by this Jesus, something breaks open.

Resurrection happens by name.

Mary. Dan. Sarah. Bill.

Pick your name.

The Stories Were Never Just Ideals

Here’s what the resurrection does to everything that came before it.

All those parables — the seeds, the prodigal son, the good Samaritan, the Pharisee and the tax collector — they weren’t principles to live by. They weren’t inspirational ideals. They were previews. They were seeds pointing toward a harvest that only resurrection could produce.

Without the resurrection, the sower’s seeds die in the rocks and on the road. Nothing grows.

Without the resurrection, the father running toward his returning son isn’t a picture of grace — he’s just a doormat. A man being taken advantage of. It doesn’t mean anything.

Without the resurrection, the neighbor who stops to help his enemy on the side of the road isn’t modeling love — he’s just a fool. A waste. Naive.

Without the resurrection, the tax collector who cries out “I am not worthy” is left exactly there — in his shame, in his hopelessness, with no answer to his prayer.

But because Christ is risen, those seeds bear fruit.

That father’s mercy is real grace — the grace of one who has given himself completely. The neighbor’s love isn’t foolishness; it’s the way of resurrection, the way of a cross rooted in self-sacrificial love. And the one who knows he is unworthy is lifted up, welcomed in, his name spoken.

The parables were always true. We just needed resurrection to prove it.

What This Means Now

Death is not final. Not anymore.

Grace is not fragile. It cannot be broken — it is reckless and overwhelming and radical, because resurrection backs it up.

And no matter where you find yourself in your story, that story is not over. It never will be. Because at any moment, you might hear your name — and everything will make sense. Everything will be transformed.

Christ is risen.

The stories are true.

Heavenly Father, this Resurrection Sunday, we are grateful that all the stories are true. We are grateful that we have heard our names. And if we haven’t yet — open our ears and our hearts, so that we might. So that we might receive the radical and reckless grace rooted in self-sacrificial love, because of the cross and the resurrection. Christ is risen and the stories are true. Amen.

Beyond Sunday School - Behid the Cosmic Curtain

Wed, 01 Apr 2026 08:05:53 -0400

You can listen to the full unabridged audio here: Revelation 8 - Behind the Cosmic Curtain

We are moving further up and further into the book of Revelation, specifically entering the “third cycle” of the vision in chapter 12. If you were making a TV show about the apocalypse but wanted to keep the source material a secret, this is where you would start. It’s mysterious, cosmic, and feels like a “behind the curtain” look at the universe.

However, for many readers, this is the point where the “brain on drugs” effect kicks in. The imagery is wild: a woman clothed in the sun, a seven-headed red dragon, and a cosmic war. But John is actually incredibly helpful here. He gives us a specific clue right at the start: “A great sign.”

The Language of Symbols

When John calls these “signs,” he is tipping us off. We shouldn’t take these descriptions literally. There isn’t a giant woman giving birth in space, nor a physical dragon waiting to eat a baby. These are symbols—snapshots of a deeper reality.

In these verses, we meet three primary figures:

The Male Child: This is the clearest symbol. He is the Christ. John connects him to Psalm 2:9, a Messianic prophecy about the one who will rule the nations with an iron scepter.
The Dragon: Identified later as the serpent, the devil, or Satan—the accuser.
The Woman: This is where the debate usually happens.

Who is the Woman?

There are three main theories regarding the identity of the pregnant woman:

Theory	The Logic	The Verdict
Mary	She is the literal mother of Jesus.	A bit too narrow for the cosmic scope of the passage.
Eve	Referring to the “seed” in Genesis 3:15 that would crush the serpent’s head.	Possible, but doesn’t quite fit the “12 stars” imagery.
The People of God	The 12 stars represent the 12 tribes (Israel) and the 12 apostles (the Church).	Most likely. She represents the continuous story of God’s people.

By identifying the woman as the People of God, we see that we are not just spectators in this story; we are participants. As the “offspring” of this woman, we are part of the cosmic struggle to bring the way of Jesus into a broken world.

The Strategy of the Enemy

The dragon stands before the woman, ready to devour the child the moment he is born. This is a compacted version of the Gospel. On Good Friday, the enemy thought he had won. He was waiting with jaws open as Jesus hung on the cross.

But the “trick” was on the enemy. As C.S. Lewis illustrated in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, there is a “deeper magic.” When the innocent dies for the guilty, death cannot hold them. The child was “snatched up to God and to his throne.” The resurrection and ascension were the ultimate victory, leaving the dragon defeated and furious.

War in Heaven and Hope on Earth

The passage describes a war between Michael and the dragon. The dragon is hurled down to earth, and he is filled with fury because he knows his time is short.

It is important to remember a few things about the enemy:

He is not divine. He is a created being.
He is not omnipresent. He can only be in one place at a time.
He is limited.

While the dragon wages war against the “rest of her offspring” (us), we are given a roadmap for victory:

“They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.”

The Bottom Line

Revelation 12 might seem “weird,” but its message is profoundly encouraging. The dragon has already lost. The victory is won through the blood of the Lamb. Whether we face personal struggles or systemic “unclean lips” in the world around us, we hold fast to our testimony.

We persevere because we know how the story ends: Christ is on the throne, and His victory is ours.

Glory Upside Down: A Palm Sunday Reflection

Mon, 30 Mar 2026 14:59:27 -0400

You can listen to the unabridged post here: Glory Upside Down

Today is Palm Sunday—our annual reminder that the Kingdom of God doesn’t break into the world through tanks, armies, or military might. It doesn’t arrive with a show of force. Instead, it shows up on the back of a donkey, carried by a King who knows He is going to die.

Palm Sunday is a day of deep irony. We call it “Palm Sunday” because the crowds waved branches and shouted “Hosanna!” as Jesus entered Jerusalem. They treated Him like a conquering hero, but He wasn’t the kind of hero they wanted. In just a few days, those same crowds would turn on Him because He didn’t overthrow Rome. He didn’t play their game.

Because that’s not how the Kingdom comes. The Kingdom of God comes through a crucified Savior who reconciles all things by giving Himself away.

When the “Hour” Finally Arrives

In John 12:20-36, we see a pivotal shift in Jesus’ ministry. Up until this point, Jesus has spent most of His time telling people, “My hour has not yet come.” But then, something specific happens: Some Greeks show up.

These were likely Gentiles—seekers who had traveled to worship at the festival. They approach Philip with a simple request: “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” When Philip and Andrew bring this request to Jesus, His response is startling. He doesn’t say, “Sure, send them in,” or “I’m too busy.” He says:

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

Why did these Greek travelers trigger that response? Because their arrival signaled that the Gospel was now moving beyond Israel to the whole world. This was the moment of redemption Jesus had been waiting for.

Redefining Glory

When we think of “glory,” we think of trophies, applause, and positions of power. We think of being on top. But for Jesus, glory looked like a Roman cross.

Jesus knew exactly what was coming. He wasn’t living in a “Pollyanna” fantasy; He explicitly says, “My soul is troubled.” He knew the arrest, the abuse, and the suffocation of the cross were imminent. Yet, He calls this His glory.

This flips everything we know upside down:

The world’s glory is about self-promotion and influence.
Christ’s glory is about self-sacrificial love.

If we claim to follow the Christ of the cross while chasing the glory of the world—bigger houses, more power, or political dominance—we have to ask ourselves: Which King are we actually following?

The Secret of the Seed

Jesus offers a paradox in verse 24: “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”

Eugene Peterson’s The Message puts it beautifully:

“If you hold on to life just as it is, you destroy that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.”

We often try to “white-knuckle” our lives. We try to control every outcome, fix every problem, and protect ourselves at all costs. But like a cycle of addiction, the harder we grip, the more things fall apart. The “better way” is the way of reckless love. It’s the willingness to let go of self-protection and show up for others.

A Challenge for Holy Week

As we enter Holy Week and prepare our hearts for Easter, I want to challenge us to look for places where we can practice this reckless, self-sacrificial love.

Look to the fringes: Who is being ignored or marginalized?
Let go of “deserving”: We don’t deserve Christ’s love, yet He gave it freely. Who can you love this week who “doesn’t deserve it”?
Follow Him where He is: Jesus isn’t found in the halls of power; He is found at the cross, on the edges, and with the broken.

We don’t have to be nailed to a cross—Jesus already did that. But we are called to take up our cross daily. This week, may we die to our self-centeredness so that our lives might produce fruit that points the world back to the Savior.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, I pray that our lives this week would reflect the kernel of wheat that falls to the ground. May we die to ourselves so that we might produce life in others. Help us to love recklessly, just as our Savior loved us, so that the world might see Your glory. Amen.

1.6 A Rule of Life for Ordinary People 🎙️

Wed, 18 Mar 2026 15:02:52 -0400

A Rule of Life isn’t about rigid structure or spiritual perfection—it’s about creating a simple, sustainable way of life that keeps you rooted in grace.

In this episode, we bring together everything from Season 1—attention, strength, flexibility, and recovery—and shape it into a rhythm you can actually live. Not an ideal life. Your real one.

We explore how small, intentional practices can form a life of endurance without becoming burdens, and how grace—not pressure—holds it all together.

If you’ve ever wanted a way to live your faith that feels grounded, realistic, and deeply human, this is a place to begin.

Gospel Anchor: John 15 — “Abide in me.”

In this episode:

Why a Rule of Life is about freedom, not control
How to build rhythms that fit your actual life
The danger of overcommitting spiritually
How consistency matters more than intensity
A simple framework to begin your own Rule of Life

One simple step:

Choose one small daily practice and one weekly rhythm. Start there. Let it grow slowly.

Transcript

Revelation 7 - Sweet as Honey, Bitter in the Stomach

Tue, 17 Mar 2026 16:50:57 -0400

To listen to the full unabridged episode: Revelation 7 - Sweet as Honey, Bitter in the Stomach

One of the most important habits we can develop when reading Revelation is remembering what kind of text we’re reading. It’s easy to open a Bible and forget that the various books represent different genres — you wouldn’t read the Psalms the same way you’d read 1 Kings, and you wouldn’t read 1 Kings the same way you’d read Philippians. Revelation is its own thing entirely.

This is a text of apocalypse — a revealing, a peeling back of spiritual realities. It’s written primarily in metaphor and symbol, giving us word pictures of things that are real but not literal. Not history. Not a timeline. A vision.

Revelation 10: Eating the Scroll

Chapter 10 opens with a striking figure: a strong angel descending from heaven, dressed in a cloud, rainbow over his head, face like the sun, feet like fiery pillars. He holds a small open scroll and cries out with a voice like a lion’s roar. Seven thunders respond — and then John is told not to write down what they said.

Even in this text full of revelation, some things are held back. Whatever the seven thunders communicated, it wasn’t yet time for those words to go out. There are things we simply cannot comprehend, and God, in his wisdom, withholds them.

Then John is told to take the scroll and eat it. The angel warns him: “It will be bitter in your stomach, sweet as honey in your mouth.”

And that’s exactly what happens.

The sweetness is God’s word itself — his plan is wonderful and beautiful. The bitterness is what that word contains: hard warnings, difficult prophecies, the reality that following Jesus in a broken world is not easy. The prophet’s task is to speak what is true and what is coming, and much of what is coming is painful.

This is consistent with other prophetic calls throughout Scripture — Ezekiel, Daniel, and others received similar commissioning. The word is sweet. But once it becomes part of you, once it shapes your calling, it’s going to be hard.

N.T. Wright makes an important observation here: prophecy is a creative act. When a prophet speaks something into the world, something happens. This is a theme that runs through all of Scripture, back to Genesis 1 — God spoke, and things came to be. John eating the scroll is him taking God’s words into himself, making them his own, so that they can go out from him with creative force.

Revelation 11: The Temple, the Witnesses, and the Seventh Trumpet

Chapter 11 opens with John being handed a measuring rod and told to measure the temple — but not the outer court. This parallels the sealing of God’s people earlier in Revelation: the measuring represents protection from ultimate harm. And yet, the outer court is left vulnerable. The people of God will experience suffering and hardship. That’s part of the deal.

Notice the numbers: three and a half years, 1,260 days, 42 months. These all say the same thing. And what is double three and a half? Seven — the number of completion. The suffering of God’s people is incomplete. It is half a measure. It is not the final word.

This is not a timeline to map onto history. It’s the message: you will suffer, but you will not be destroyed.

The Two Witnesses

Then we meet two prophetic figures — and here is where the imaginative speculation usually kicks in. Moses? Elijah? Elisha? People have proposed all kinds of answers.

But there’s a clue in the text itself. Verse 4 calls them the two olive trees and the two lamp stands. Earlier in Revelation, what did the lamp stands represent? The seven churches. The church.

Wright’s summary is apt: the two witnesses appear to be a symbol for the whole church in its prophetic witness, its faithful death, and its vindication by God.

The church, bearing witness in the world, will face opposition. The “monster from the abyss” — which later chapters reveal to be the power of pagan empire, embodied by Rome — will make war on it. The witnesses are killed. Their bodies lie in the street of the city “spiritually called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified” — that is, Rome itself, or the whole public order of empire.

And then they are resurrected. A voice from heaven says: “Come up here.” And they ascend.

This is the message to a persecuted church: yes, the world will hate you. Yes, following Jesus will cost you. Some of you will actually die for your faith. But resurrection is real. The hope of resurrection is what enables us to press on.

History bears this out in a striking way. In the early centuries of the church, one of the primary drivers of growth was the martyrdom of Christians. They were known in their communities for caring for the poor, for living with integrity, for embodying the way of Jesus. And when they were executed, they didn’t recant. They stood firm. People saw this and were undone by it — and came to faith. The church has always grown through persecution. It still does. The places where the church is struggling today are often the places where it has become too comfortable, too entangled with cultural and political power.

Suffering, it turns out, produces the kinds of things that ease never can.

The Seventh Trumpet: The Kingdom Has Come

The cycle closes in verses 15–19 with the seventh trumpet. The voices in heaven cry out:

“Now the kingdom of the world has passed to our Lord and his Messiah, and he will reign forever and ever.”

The 24 elders worship. And notice something subtle but significant in verse 17: God is described as “who is and who was” — not “who is to come.” Because he has come. The one who was expected has arrived. The wait is over.

The raging nations are judged. The destroyers are destroyed. The servants — prophets, holy ones, small and great, all who fear God’s name — are rewarded. Remember the martyrs in earlier chapters crying out, “How long, O Lord?” Here is the answer. Here is the justice they were promised.

This is not a military conquest. There is no great Christian army sweeping through the earth. It is simply this: Christ has returned, and therefore his kingdom has come. Righteousness and justice prevail — not because we won, but because he did.

A Note on “New Heaven, New Earth”

One question that came up in our conversation: if Revelation speaks of a new heaven and new earth, does that mean the old creation gets burned up and replaced?

Wright pushes back on this reading — and I think rightly so. The popular notion that “everything’s going to get burned up anyway, so what does it matter?” is a relatively recent invention, largely pieced together in the mid-1800s from fragments of Scripture taken out of context.

What Scripture actually describes is renewal, not destruction. God declared his creation good in Genesis 1, and he is not abandoning it. The resurrection of Jesus — still recognizably Jesus, but glorified — is the template. Creation doesn’t get replaced; it gets redeemed. Sin and death are removed. Everything is made whole.

As one person in our group put it beautifully: nothing that what God created will be wasted.

Looking Ahead

Next session we move into Revelation 12 — and things get considerably stranger. Women, dragons, cosmic war. We’re going further up and further into the spiritual realm.

If you want to join us in person, we gather on Tuesday afternoons at Peace Presbyterian Church in Flint. We’d love to have you.

Parables for the Long Way Home - Beyond the Catchphrase

Sun, 15 Mar 2026 19:59:03 -0400

To listen to the full unabridged message listen here: Beyond the Catchphrase

We are currently journeying through the parables of Luke, leading up to Lent. Last week, we looked at the Prodigal Son—or perhaps more accurately, the parable of the Loving Father and the Angry Brother. This week, we turn to one of the most famous stories ever told: The Parable of the Good Samaritan.

The term “Good Samaritan” has become a cultural fixture. We have Good Samaritan laws, hospitals, and charities. It’s become shorthand for “a nice person who helps out.” But if we look closely at Luke 10, we see that Jesus wasn’t just giving a lesson on being “nice.” He was issuing a radical, scandalous challenge to our tendency to categorize who is—and isn’t—worthy of our love.

The Setup: A Test of Limits

The story begins with an expert in religious law standing up to test Jesus. He asks, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus points him back to the Law. The man recites what had become the shorthand for the Ten Commandments: Love God with everything you are, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Jesus affirms this, but the man—seeking to justify himself—asks the million-dollar question: “And who is my neighbor?”

This wasn’t an innocent question. He was looking for a boundary. He wanted to know the minimum requirements. He wanted a list of who he had to love so he could feel justified in ignoring everyone else.

The Reversal: Heroes and Villains

In response, Jesus tells the story of a man beaten and left for dead on the notoriously dangerous road from Jerusalem to Jericho.

The Priest: He sees the man and passes by on the other side.
The Levite: A man dedicated to God’s service, he also sees the man and passes by.
The Samaritan: To Jesus’ audience, this was the “bad guy.”

The animosity between Jews and Samaritans was deep-seated, involving both religious disputes and ethnic tension. Jews often took long detours specifically to avoid Samaria. To the expert in the law, a Samaritan was a heretic and an outsider.

Yet, the Samaritan is the one who stops. He doesn’t just offer a quick prayer; he gets his hands dirty. He bandages wounds, uses his own resources (oil, wine, and his donkey), takes the man to an inn, and pays two denarii—roughly two days’ wages—promising to cover any extra costs.

Neighbor as a Verb

At the end of the story, Jesus asks: “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man?”

The expert in the law can’t even bring himself to say the word “Samaritan.” He simply replies, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Notice the shift. The lawyer asked for a definition of “neighbor” as a noun—an object or a category of person. Jesus turns “neighbor” into a verb. He asks who acted neighborly.

Being a neighbor isn’t a state of mind or a social category; it is an action. It demands engagement. It is not “performative activism” or changing a profile picture; it is diverting your path, spending your money, and risking your safety for someone else.

Modern-Day Samaritans

If Jesus were telling this story today, who would he make the hero?

In 1969, Fred Rogers (Mr. Rogers) provided a powerful modern illustration. During a time of intense racial segregation—where black and white Americans often couldn’t even share the same swimming pools—Mr. Rogers invited Officer Clemmons, a black man, to sit with him and soak his feet in a small kiddie pool.

It was a simple act, but in 1969, it was a “doing.” It was an act of neighborly love that broke social barriers to provide rest and rejuvenation to another image-bearer of God.

The Challenge: Who is Your “Samaritan”?

We all have scorecards. We justify our lack of love by looking at:

Political parties
Ethnicity or race
Sexual ethics
Socioeconomic status
Religious backgrounds

We create lists of people who are “disqualified” from our compassion so we can feel okay about denying them love. But in the Kingdom of God, there is no enemy—there is only the neighbor.

This week, I challenge you to wrestle with this question: > Who would Jesus make the hero of the story if he were telling it specifically to you?

Identify the group or the person you find it hardest to love, and ask God for an opportunity to show them “neighborly” mercy. This isn’t just about being a “good person”; it’s about the Jesus way.

1.5 Recovery - Rest, Burnout, and the Grace to Begin Again

Wed, 11 Mar 2026 13:48:39 -0400

In this episode of The Pastor Next Door, we shift our focus from the pressure of “growth” to the necessity of recovery. Spiritual fatigue is real, and often, what we mistake for a lack of faith is simply a soul in need of rest.

The Anatomy of Spiritual Fatigue

We often treat burnout as a badge of spiritual honor, but in reality, constant exertion without recovery leads to:

Cynicism & Numbness: Seeing only failure and hypocrisy in the world and the church.
Over-functioning: The inability to say “no” because we believe everything depends on us.
Performing Faith: Putting on a “costume” of perfection instead of being authentically present.
Resentment: Feeling bitter toward others who are actually practicing the rest we ignore.

What Sabbath Actually Is

Sabbath is more than a day off; it is a theological declaration.

It is an act of trust: A practical way of saying, “I believe God will keep the world spinning without me.”
It is resistance: Sabbath pushes back against the urge for self-justification and the “functional atheism” of constant busyness.
It is a Creation Rhythm: Just as nature goes through seasons of dormancy to prepare for spring, our souls require “winter” to produce new growth.

“Rest is not quitting. Rest is trusting.”

Practical Steps to Begin Again

If you are spiritually exhausted, you don’t need to compensate or apologize. You can return quietly.

Start Small: One honest prayer (even if it’s just “What the heck, God?”) is enough.
Physical First: Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap and have a snack.
Digital Limits: Turn off the screens and stop the doom-scrolling to protect your inner quiet.
Embrace Solitude over Isolation: Seek quiet time that prepares you for community, rather than hiding from it.

Closing Thought

Jesus doesn’t ask us to come to him once we’ve fixed ourselves. He asks the weary and heavy-burdened to come exactly as they are. Grace does not expire, and your worth is not a social media “streak.”

Next Week: We wrap up the season by discussing how to build a simple, sustainable Rule of Life.

Transcript

Revelation 6 - Navigating the Storm

Tue, 10 Mar 2026 16:57:15 -0400

You can listen to the unabridged audio here: Revelation 6 - Navigating the Storm

In our latest study of Revelation, we dove into chapters 8 and 9—a section of Scripture that is as intense as it is misunderstood. We’ve transitioned from the opening of the seven seals into a new cycle: the seven trumpets.

To understand where we are, we have to use a “fancy $10 word”: recapitulation. Revelation isn’t necessarily a straight line from A to Z; it’s a series of cycles that go back to the beginning to cover the same ground with different symbols, taking us “further up and further in” to the spiritual reality of God’s work in the world.

Trumpets as Warnings, Not Predictions

As the angels begin to blow the seven trumpets, we encounter vivid, harrowing imagery: hail and fire mixed with blood, mountains falling into the sea, and stars turning water bitter.

It is easy to get lost in trying to “decode” these as literal historical events or modern technology, but we must remember:

Trumpets are Warnings: In the Old Testament, trumpets were alarms—calls to alert the people of approaching danger or a call to repentance.
Symbolism Over Literalism: These images paint a picture of how seriously God takes sin. If God literally laid waste to a third of the planet, His original mission for creation would be a failure—and God is no failure.
Plagues and Liberation: The imagery of these trumpets mirrors the plagues of Egypt. Just as those plagues led to the freedom of the Israelites, these “plagues” represent the necessary, radical surgery required to uproot the evil systems that enslave humanity.

The Abyss Within

Chapter 9 takes us into “nightmare fodder”—the opening of the abyss and the release of locusts that look like war horses. Rather than looking for attack helicopters in the text, we should see this as the unveiling of the human heart.

The “abyss” is often the depth of our own sinfulness and brokenness. Throughout history, God often restrains this evil, but Revelation shows us what happens when sin is allowed to come out into the open to be dealt with once and for all. The ultimate “exposure” of sin occurred on the cross, where Christ took the full weight of that darkness upon Himself so that we might find grace.

The Root of the Matter: Idolatry

The chapter ends on a sobering note. Despite these warnings and the collapse of oppressive systems, many “did not repent of the things they had made”.

This is the heartbeat of the issue: Idolatry. Whether it’s ancient idols or modern systems of power and greed, when we worship things other than our Creator, our sin goes unchecked. We create systems—economic, political, and social—that reflect our messy hearts.

Takeaway

The “woes” of Revelation are not meant to terrify us into hiding, but to wake us up. They remind us that the spiritual realm is real and that our relationship with God matters. God provides the “breathing space” for us to turn back to Him, to acknowledge our need for grace, and to find our identity not as “earth dwellers” lost in the material world, but as people sealed by His Spirit.

The Loving Father's Wide Grace

Sun, 08 Mar 2026 14:27:43 -0400

To hear the full unabridged message listen here: Parables for the Long Way Home - The Loving Father’s Wide Grace

As we continue our journey through Lent, wandering toward the resurrection, there is one story I haven’t been able to escape. It’s a parable that seems to creep into almost every sermon I preach, regardless of the text. It’s the story many of us know as the “Parable of the Prodigal Son,” but the more I sit with it, the more I’ve fallen in love with a different title: The Parable of the Loving Father.

Found in Luke 15:11-32, this story is a cornerstone of our cultural consciousness. We use the word “prodigal” to describe anyone who wanders away and eventually returns with their tail between their legs. But if we look closer at the cultural context and the second half of the story, we find that Jesus wasn’t just talking about reckless rebels—He was talking to the “good people” standing in the room.

“You’re Dead to Me”

The story begins with a younger son looking at his father and saying, essentially, “Old man, you’re dead to me. Give me what’s mine.” In the first century, asking for an inheritance early wasn’t just rude; it was gut-wrenching. It was a complete rejection of the father’s life and authority.

In an act of overwhelming mercy, the father doesn’t disown him. He divides the estate. But here is the detail we often miss: He divided the property between them. The older son got his payday, too. He likely received the larger portion—the land, the farm, the bulk of the wealth—right then and there.

The Myth of the “Clean” Return

We know what happens next. The younger son squanders everything on “wild living” and ends up starving in a pigpen. To a Jewish audience, this was the ultimate rock bottom. Feeding pigs made him ceremonially unclean; he was getting “worse” by the moment.

When he finally “comes to his senses,” he crafts a manipulative speech: “I’ll tell Dad I’m not worthy to be a son, just let me be a servant.” He’s still trying to manage the situation. But he doesn’t count on the Father’s grace.

The Father, who must have been walking to the end of the road every single day to look for him, sees him from a long way off. He doesn’t wait for the speech. He runs. He embraces the “unclean” son. He throws a party.

The Undercurrent: The Older Brother

If the story ended there, it would be a beautiful tale of redemption. But Jesus’ real targets weren’t the “tax collectors and sinners” listening to Him—it was the Pharisees and teachers of the law who were muttering under their breath.

The older brother returns from the field and hears the music. He is indignant. He’s been “slaving away,” doing the right thing, and he is furious that the “younger loser” is getting a fattened calf.

The tragedy of the older brother is that he doesn’t realize how good he already has it. The father tells him, “Everything I have is yours.” The older brother didn’t need permission to throw a party; the goats and calves already belonged to him! But he was so focused on his brother’s sin that he missed out on his father’s joy.

Where Do You Sit at the Party?

Most of us like to cast ourselves as the younger son because we want the “grace for the screw-up.” But many of us—especially those of us who grew up in the church—are much more like the older brother.

We look at others beginning to taste grace and we think: Not them. They don’t get a pass. They’re grubs, they’re icky, they’re awful. We have a choice:

Stand outside in the dark: Bitter, judgmental, and alone—separating ourselves from the party because we can’t stand who else was invited.
Go inside: Set aside our scorecards and embrace the “overwhelming wideness” of God’s mercy.

The Challenge of Lent

As we progress toward Easter, we are moving toward the moment when God broke into history to say, “I’m tired of waiting. I want my people reconciled.” Christ went to the cross to tear the curtain open so that grace could flow out like a flood.

God’s grace is either a massive, uncontrollable flood, or it is stingy and small. We can’t have it both ways. If we want the flood for ourselves, we have to embrace the flood for everyone else, too.

This week, take a hard look in the mirror. Are you excited about the ever-expanding wideness of God’s mercy, or are you trying to control it?

The party is happening. The Father is inviting you in. Will you join the celebration?

1.4 Flexibility - Faith that Bends Without Breaking

Tue, 03 Mar 2026 17:00:43 -0400

About This Episode

In this episode, I’m digging into something I’ve been thinking a lot about in my own physical fitness: flexibility. We often talk about building “strength” in our faith, but strength without the ability to bend leads to injury. If our spiritual muscles are rigid, they’re going to tear when life gets heavy.

I want to talk to you about the difference between a rigid faith and a resilient one. Whether you’re wrestling with questions, feeling the weight of “certainty,” or unlearning things you were taught as a child, I want you to know that a faith that stretches isn’t a faith that’s failing—it’s a faith that’s growing.

Key Takeaways

1. Rigid Faith vs. Resilient Faith

I’ve noticed that some faith collapses under pressure, not because it’s weak, but because it’s brittle. Here is how I see the two:

On Questions: In a rigid faith, there’s no room for them. It feels like a house of cards—take one card out and the whole thing snaps. In a resilient faith, questions are how we grow.
On Certainty: I don’t believe certainty equals maturity. Maturity is rooted in the ability to struggle and go deep. I prefer confidence over certainty.
On Doubt: Some say doubt is rebellion. I argue that doubt is just the flip side of faith. If we’re believing in things unseen, doubt is going to be right there with us.
On Change: We’re often told change is “compromise.” I call it repentance. If we aren’t different people than we were five or ten years ago, we aren’t being transformed by the renewal of our minds.

2. Why I Value Doubt

Doubt isn’t the enemy of your faith; it’s often a signal of three very healthy things:

Deep Thinking: You’re actually engaging with the Word and what it means.
Moral Wrestling: You’re looking at things like the conquest narratives in Joshua and refusing to gloss over the hard parts.
Emotional Honesty: You’re being real with God about your sadness, anger, or confusion.

3. The Necessity of Unlearning

I’ve realized that growth requires “pruning.” My childhood understanding of stories like Noah’s Ark—animals and rainbows—doesn’t survive adult scrutiny. And that’s okay! Shedding distortions and letting go of unhealthy theology isn’t abandoning God; it’s moving closer to who He truly is. Remember: God is not fragile. He can handle your inquiry.

4. Habits for a Flexible Faith

Here’s how I’m trying to cultivate this resiliency in my own life:

Listening before defending: I’m learning to hear someone’s hard questions without jumping in to “fix” them.
Reading broadly: I try to read from a variety of perspectives—progressive, conservative, and even non-Christian—while keeping my anchor in Christ.
Praying honestly: I look to the Psalms as my guide. The writers didn’t sugarcoat a thing, and neither should we.

Reflection from the Word

Galatians 5:1: Christ set us free for freedom—not for a life of being controlled by rigid systems.
Mark 9:24: “I believe; help my unbelief!” This is the ultimate cry of a resilient faith.
John 20: When Thomas asked for evidence, Jesus didn’t lecture or rebuke him. He showed up and met him right in the middle of his doubt.

My Encouragement to You

If your faith feels like it’s stretching right now, don’t panic. That may not be a collapse; it may simply be growth. You are allowed to ask. You are allowed to wrestle. You are allowed to take your time.

Next time, we’re going to talk about Recovery—how grace meets us when we’re burnt out and tired. Until then, remember: bending is not breaking.

Transcript

Parables for the Long Way Home - Mow the Yard, Miss the Point

Sun, 01 Mar 2026 15:10:49 -0400

For the full unabridged audio: Mow the Yard, Miss the Point

A couple of years ago, I made a commitment — at the very least, I would go for an intentional walk for 15 minutes a day. Not much, but I needed it. I had reached that place in life where I knew I had to start moving, or I was going to lose the ability to. Surely I could walk out my door and around my block. I could do that.

I made the incredibly bad decision to ask a handful of good friends to hold me accountable. By 8 o’clock each night, I needed to text the group and confirm I had gone for my walk.

It was going great — until I got a minor injury. My shoes had worn out, and a leg muscle was making every step uncomfortable. So one evening I mowed the yard instead, tracked the whole thing, and texted the group: Guys, I mowed the yard. That’s my walk for the day.

One of my buddies wasn’t having it. “No, it’s not,” he said. I argued. I showed him the data — 40 minutes of movement. He said, “Yeah, but your commitment wasn’t to mow the yard. Your commitment was to go for an intentional 15-minute walk.”

I lost my mind. I muted the chat and threw an absolute temper tantrum. It was kind of ridiculous.

And then I went for a 15-minute walk.

I texted back: Fine. You win. It took me 30 minutes to get around the block because my leg hurt so bad. My buddy replied: I’m so proud of you. I love you. This is how it’s supposed to work.

I was 46 or 47 years old. It was the first time in my life anyone had ever held me accountable to anything. And I didn’t like it one bit.

What Isaiah Has to Do With It

Isaiah 6 is Isaiah’s call to ministry. It’s that dramatic moment: Who will go for us? And Isaiah says, Here am I — send me. But right there at his commissioning, God essentially says: you’re going to preach my love, my mercy, my grace. You’re going to speak truth to power. You’re going to challenge people in places they don’t want to be challenged. And they are going to turn a blind eye. They’re going into exile.

When you read through Isaiah, it’s heartbreak after heartbreak. There are glimpses of redemption, but Israel still goes into exile.

Jesus understood himself to stand in Isaiah’s lineage. He functioned as prophet, priest, and king — and here, he’s operating as prophet. He tells parables for the same reason Isaiah preached: to reveal things people don’t want to hear.

And notice what he says just before the Isaiah quote — “The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you.” Whenever Jesus talks about the “secret” or “mystery” of the kingdom, it’s always in the sense of something being revealed, not hidden. Paul uses the same language: the mystery is what has been concealed and is now being disclosed. The very next parable Jesus tells is the lamp on a stand: Whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed. Whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open.

Parables aren’t meant to confuse. They are the means by which Jesus reveals the nature of the kingdom of God.

What People Expected to Hear

So what is it, exactly, that people didn’t want to hear in the Parable of the Sower?

They expected the kingdom of heaven to be a sweep. The Messiah arrives, the word goes out, everyone bows the knee, and the kingdom wins — and wins big. That’s the expectation.

But Jesus says: actually, some people are going to hear the word and it’ll be gone before they get home. Some will receive it with joy and then disappear the moment things get hard. Some will start down the path but let the worries of life and the pull of wealth choke it out. And some — some — will hear it, receive it, and be completely transformed.

This is how the kingdom of heaven is going to work.

And people don’t want to hear that — because the moment you start framing it this way, we do what we always do. We start sorting the people around us. Bob’s clearly first-soil. Jimmy was second-soil all the way. Larry got seduced by prosperity. But me? I’m in church every Sunday. I’m doing great.

We turn it into a taxonomy for judging other people. And that’s exactly the moralistic trap I fell into for years.

Notice that there’s nothing in this parable about tilling the soil. In that era, farmers often sowed first and tilled afterward. The whole “get your heart right so you can receive the word” framework isn’t actually in the text. That’s us importing our assumptions.

The Real Question

The question this parable actually puts before us is simpler and harder than soil types: What are you going to do when you hear something in the gospel that you don’t like?

Because the Jesus way will challenge you. It challenged people then and it challenges us now. Love your neighbor. Who’s my neighbor? He tells a story about a Samaritan — despised, written off — and says, that’s your neighbor. Love them. Love your enemy? That doesn’t compute. And yet Jesus says, if you only love people you already like, what’s the point?

The path is narrow. The Jesus way demands dying to self. It demands a self-sacrificial love that actually costs something. That’s the whole point of Lent. That’s why we take communion — to remember who Jesus is, what he has done, and that his way is the way of the cross.

And self-sacrificial love hurts. It isn’t tidy. So the question is: when we encounter gospel truth that demands we live and love differently — toward our neighbors, our enemies, and sometimes even toward ourselves — how will we respond? Will we hear and be changed? Or will we find some way to kick the seed back out?

Will we be ever seeing, but never perceiving? Ever hearing, but never understanding?

There is grace here. The kingdom Jesus reveals is grace and mercy and unconditional love, through and through. But the kicker is this: we are called to turn around and live that same way.

That’s the hard part. And it’s worth wrestling with all week.

Questions to sit with: Where am I hearing the gospel and resisting it? What is the Jesus way asking of me that I’d rather not do? And is there someone — like that friend in my group chat — who loves me enough to hold me to it?

1.3 Strength - Practices that Build Resilience

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 14:10:06 -0400

Most of spiritual growth happens where no one is watching.

In this episode, we explore how God forms us through small, ordinary acts of obedience — the quiet prayers, unseen sacrifices, daily choices to forgive, to show up, to remain steady. The Christian life is less about dramatic breakthroughs and more about faithful rhythms.

The question beneath it all: What if the “small things” are actually the main things?

In this episode:

Why hidden faithfulness matters

How ordinary obedience shapes lasting character

The connection between daily rhythms and spiritual endurance

Spiritual fitness is formed slowly, faithfully, and often invisibly.

—

You can find more long-form reflections at danielmrose.com

Transcript

Parables for the Long Way Home - The Scandal of Generous Grace

Sun, 22 Feb 2026 16:22:41 -0400

To listen to the full unabridged message: The Scandal fo Generous Grace

As we begin the season of Lent, we enter a specific rhythm in the Christian calendar. It is a season of lament—a time to acknowledge that the world we inhabit is imperfect. It is often sad, hard, and weary. It is a world in desperate need of resurrection.

The beauty of Lent is that it points us toward Easter. We know that in a few weeks, we will celebrate the moment history was transformed by the resurrection of Christ. But we shouldn’t rush there. As Westerners, our culture encourages us to skip the “hard” and jump straight to the “fun.” But this season, we aren’t going to skip the hardness. We are going to work through it together by looking at the parables of Jesus.

Twisting the Prism

Jesus used parables to flip our expectations upside down. If the Kingdom of Heaven is a prism, Jesus is constantly twisting it so we see the light differently. This week, we’re jumping into the deep end with one of his most challenging stories: The Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16).

The Story

The parable describes a landowner who hires laborers at different points throughout the day:

6:00 AM: The first group is hired for a standard day’s wage (a denarius).
9:00 AM, Noon, & 3:00 PM: More workers are hired.
5:00 PM: With only one hour of light left, the landowner hires the final group.

When it comes time to pay, the “twist” happens. The workers hired last are paid first—and they receive a full day’s wage. Naturally, those who worked twelve hours in the heat expected more. But they, too, received a single denarius.

They grumbled, saying, “You have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work!”

The landowner’s response is the punchline of the parable: “I am not being unfair to you… Are you envious because I am generous?”

Fairness vs. Righteousness

If we’re honest, most of us identify with the first group of workers. It feels like “righteous indignation.” It feels unfair. But we have to recognize that fairness and grace are different categories.

If we treat this story like a literal lesson in economics, it’s a mess. Why didn’t the owner hire everyone at once? Why pay the one-hour workers the same? But Jesus isn’t giving a business lecture; he’s landing a punch. He is describing the radical, “gobsmacking” generosity of God.

The Struggle of the “Lifelong” Christian

For those of us who grew up in the church—who have known Jesus since before we left the womb—this parable is a mirror.

We can become callous to grace. We start to think we’ve earned it because we’ve been “good” our whole lives. Then, we see someone who lived “the fast life” turn to God on their deathbed, and we get bent out of shape. We hear a dramatic testimony of someone saved from addiction and think, “What about my story? My life was boring because I followed the rules. Where are my kudos?”

But we are forgetting the grace of being hired first.

Two Kinds of Grace

Grace redeems both stories, just in different ways:

The Early Workers: If you’ve known God your whole life, you were shielded. You were protected from the 5:00 PM anxiety—the agonizing worry of “How will I feed my family tonight?” You had the hope of the Master all day long. That is an overwhelming grace.
The Late Workers: For those who catch grace at the end, they receive unmitigated relief. They are rescued from the pain and struggle of a life lived without hope.

Whether you were hired at dawn or at dusk, the result is the same: The Master provided what you needed.

A Lenten Reflection

As we walk through Lent, let’s keep this overwhelming generosity in front of us. Whether you have followed Jesus for eighty years or eight minutes, we all stand on the same level ground at the foot of the Cross.

Let’s not look at the grace given to others with envy, but with rejoicing. We serve a God who is far more generous than we deserve.

Revelation 5 - Horses and Robes

Tue, 17 Feb 2026 17:35:13 -0400

To listen to full unabridged audio listen here: Revelation 5 - Horses and the Multitude

We are moving into the “tricky stuff” today as we pick up in Revelation chapter 6. Up to this point, we’ve witnessed the glorious worship of the heavenly throne room. We’ve seen Jesus identified as the only one worthy to open the scroll—the representation of God’s will and His plan for the world. Now, we get to see that plan begin to unfurl.

The Limitation of the Linear

Before we dive into the seals, we have to address how we read this book. As humans, we read in a linear fashion—one word after another, one event after another. But the visions of Revelation don’t necessarily exist in a linear timeline.

The theologian N.T. Wright uses a beautiful musical analogy: the written word is limited, but music can be layered. In a great symphony by Mozart or Beethoven, the flutes are doing one thing, the clarinets another, and the trumpets something else—all at the same time—to create a masterpiece.

Revelation is like that. These aren’t necessarily chronological “ages” of history. These are snapshots, word pictures, and symbols of big-idea realities that are often happening simultaneously throughout human history.

The Four Horsemen (The First Four Seals)

When the Lamb opens the first four seals, four horses and their riders are released.

The White Horse: There are two main theories here. One is that this represents Christ or the Gospel going out. However, given that the other three horses represent hardships, it’s more likely that the white horse represents conquering political and imperial powers—those who use worldly authority to oppress and conquer.
The Red Horse: This rider is given a short sword (the kind used by Roman legionnaires) and the power to take peace from the earth. This represents general violence—the way human beings kill one another—and specifically the physical persecution of the Church.
The Black Horse: Carrying a pair of scales, this rider represents economic oppression and disparity. The voice cries out prices for wheat and barley that represent a full day’s wages for barely enough food to survive, while the “oil and wine” (the luxuries of the rich) remain untouched.
The Pale Horse: This rider is named Death, followed by Hades. This is a “catch-all” for pestilence and mortality—war, famine, and plague. Note that his power is limited; he is given authority over only a fourth of the earth.

The Takeaway: None of these horses go out on their own. They are called out by the voice of the Lamb. This is meant to be encouraging: as bad as things get, these powers are still under the authority of God. If God allows them to move, He is also the one who can say, “Stop.” We do not need to live in despair when we see oppressive rulers or violence; we can live in hope because our God is the ultimate King.

The Cry for Justice (The Fifth and Sixth Seals)

In the fifth seal, we see the martyrs—those slain for the Word of God—under the altar. They cry out, “How long until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?”

This isn’t a petty or capricious cry for “getting even.” It is a cry for divine justice. They are appealing to the character of God—who is “Holy and True”—to settle the accounts of an unjust world. They are told to wait a little longer and are given white robes. Justice will come, but on God’s schedule, not ours.

The sixth seal brings an overwhelming picture of judgment: earthquakes, the sun turning black, and the moon turning red. It is so terrifying that the mighty and the rich hide in caves. They ask a haunting question: “The great day of wrath has come, and who can withstand it?”

The 144,000 and the Great Multitude

Chapter 7 provides the answer to that question. Before the destruction continues, an angel places a seal on the foreheads of the servants of God. In the first century, a seal represented authenticity and ownership.

What John Hears: He hears the number of the sealed: 144,000 from the tribes of Israel. This is a symbolic number representing the fullness of God’s people.
What John Sees: When he turns to look, he doesn’t see a small, literal group; he sees a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language.

This is the culmination of the story. These are the ones who have come out of the “Great Tribulation.” We often think of that as a specific future event, but in many ways, the Great Tribulation is the experience of living outside of Eden. It is any point in history where the four horses are running wild.

The promise for those who persevere is beautiful:

“Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst… the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd… and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

What’s Next?

In chapter 8, the “spiral” of Revelation begins again. We’ll go back to the beginning to look at the same story from a different, perhaps weirder, perspective. But the ending remains the same: Christ is the Shepherd, and He wins.

God's Kingdom Come - The Joy of the Kingdom

Sun, 15 Feb 2026 16:30:37 -0400

For the full unabridged message listen here: God’s Kingdom Come - The Joy of the Kingdom

Last year, two hikers in Czechia were walking through the woods when they spotted something metallic sticking out of the dirt. At first, they figured it was just trash—the kind of random debris you find in the wilderness. But when they pulled it out and opened it, they found pounds of gold.

In an instant, their lives were transformed. They weren’t looking for treasure; they just stumbled upon it.

As we wrap up this Epiphany season and prepare for Lent, we’ve been asking a specific question: What is the Kingdom of Heaven actually like? We pray for it every week in the Lord’s Prayer (“Your Kingdom come”), but do we know what we’re asking for?

According to Jesus in Matthew 13, the Kingdom is exactly like that box in the woods.

The Treasure You Trip Over

In Matthew 13:44–46, Jesus gives us two short pictures:

The Hidden Treasure: A man finds treasure in a field, hides it again, and in his joy, sells everything to buy the field.
The Pearl of Great Value: A merchant searching for fine pearls finds one “of great value” and sells everything to possess it.

The first image is remarkable because it suggests the Kingdom can be found by anyone. You don’t need a seminary degree, a specific pedigree, or a lifetime of perfect church attendance to find it. You can be a “normal, everyday folk” just wandering through a field and trip over it.

The Kingdom is present. It is breaking in. It is right in our midst.

Joy vs. Happiness

There is a specific marker that tells you when you’ve stumbled across the Kingdom: Joy. For too long, the Kingdom has been marketed as a place of judgment, shame, or fire and brimstone. But Jesus says the man who found the treasure acted out of joy.

We often confuse joy with happiness, but they aren’t the same:

Happiness is fleeting. It’s based on circumstances—your team winning a game, buying a new car, or a good day at work. It comes and goes.
Joy is sustaining. It is something that can be experienced even in the midst of struggle, pain, and sorrow.

The book of Hebrews says that “for the joy set before him,” Christ endured the cross. He looked beyond the immediate agony to the reconciliation and restoration of all things. That is what the Kingdom does for us—it allows us to look beyond our momentary afflictions and say, “I know where I belong.”

You Find What You Seek

The second parable features a merchant looking for pearls. There is a psychological reality to this: what you set your mind on, you begin to see everywhere. If you buy a yellow car, you suddenly notice yellow cars on every block.

If you look for the “bad” in a broken world, you will find it everywhere. Our news cycle is built on this. But if you start looking for the Kingdom—if you look for the “helpers,” as Mr. Rogers famously said—you will find joy in the smile of a child or a small act of kindness at a coffee shop.

We have a responsibility to pay attention. The Kingdom has broken through, but we have to be willing to see it.

Two Invitations for This Week

As we transition toward the shadow of the cross in Lent, I want to encourage you to do two things:

Take Stock: Ask yourself, “Am I setting my heart on joy, or am I fixated on the negative?” What we fixate on is ultimately what flows out of us.
The Evening Review: Even if you aren’t a “journaler,” take five minutes before bed to identify one joyful thing you saw today. Be intentional about naming the Kingdom’s presence in your world.

When we find joy, we find the Kingdom. And when you are truly joyful, you don’t have to try to “evangelize”—joy simply oozes out of you. It becomes impossible to hide.

The Kingdom of Heaven isn’t for “special” people. It’s for all of us. And it’s right there in the field, waiting for you to trip over it.

1.2 Attention - What You Train Grows

Wed, 11 Feb 2026 16:03:48 -0400

We live in an age of distraction. Our attention is constantly being captured, pulled, and shaped—often without us realizing it.

In this episode, we explore a simple but powerful truth: what you repeatedly give your attention to quietly forms you.

Spiritual formation doesn’t begin with intensity or effort. It begins with attention. The question isn’t whether you’re being formed—it’s by what.

Rooted in Jesus’ words about the attention and focus (Matthew 6:19–24), this conversation looks at how our daily focus trains our fears, our loves, and our hopes—and how small, grace-filled shifts in attention can reshape us over time.

No heroic practices. No spiritual hustle. Just learning to notice what’s shaping us.

New here? Start with Season 0, a short two-episode introduction to the heart of The Pastor Next Door. It sets the tone—grace-first, honest about doubt, and committed to the slow work of formation.

Transcript

Revelation 4 - A Glimpse into the Throne Room

Wed, 11 Feb 2026 12:57:14 -0400

To listen to the whole unabridged teaching, listen here: A Glimpse into the Throne Room

As we move from the letters to the seven churches in Revelation 2 and 3 into the vision of the heavenly throne room in chapters 4 and 5, things are about to get “weird.” We are moving from the clear to the less clear—into the realm of deep imagery and symbolism.

To set the stage, we must remember that the churches John was writing to were facing intense hardship. Whether they were in the midst of struggle or on the verge of it, they needed a central focus. The commentator William Hendriksen captures this perfectly:

“Whenever in history the church is faithful to its calling and bears testimony concerning the truth, tribulation is bound to follow… The church needs these tribulations… as an instrument for our own spiritual advancement. We see God’s footstool; let us not forget His throne.”

Revelation is not primarily a timeline for the future; it is a call to persevere. It teaches us how to “suffer well.” When we walk through hard seasons, knowing who is on the throne changes everything. We don’t experience the woes of the world as those without hope, but as those who know that victory has already been won through Christ.

The Open Door: Heaven is Closer Than You Think

In Revelation 4:1, John says, “After this I looked, and there before me was a door standing open in heaven.”

Often, we think of the physical and spiritual realms as being miles apart—heaven “up there” and earth “down here.” But John’s imagery suggests something more like C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia. The “door” isn’t miles away in the sky; it’s right here. The spiritual realm is intertwined with our own, typically unseen, but separated only by a “curtain” that John is now permitted to look behind.

The Seven Circles of Worship

To understand the layout of this heavenly vision, it helps to visualize the throne room as seven concentric circles. This structure becomes a recurring anchor throughout the rest of the book.

The Center: God the Father seated on the throne, appearing like Jasper and Ruby—a picture of overwhelming purity and holiness.
The Radiance: An emerald-like rainbow encircling the throne. While thunder and lightning (judgment) emanate from the throne, the rainbow reminds us of God’s covenant faithfulness. The “storm” of brokenness exists, but it ends in grace.
The Holy Spirit: Seven blazing lamps, representing the “sevenfold” (perfect and complete) Spirit of God.
The Four Living Creatures: The Cherubim (lion, ox, man, and eagle). These represent either the highest order of angels or the fullness of creation itself, leading the worship.
The 24 Elders: Representing the 12 tribes of Israel and the 12 apostles—the totality of God’s people from all of history.
The Multitude of Angels: “Thousands upon thousands” who join the chorus.
The Outer Circle: Every creature in heaven, on earth, and under the sea.

The Scroll and the Lamb

In Chapter 5, a scroll appears in the Father’s right hand, sealed with seven seals. This scroll represents the will of God—His plan for the outworking of history. John weeps because no one is found worthy to open it. If God’s plan cannot be carried out, there is no hope.

But then, one of the elders tells John to stop weeping: “See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah… has triumphed.”

When John turns to see this Lion, he sees a surprise: A Lamb, looking as if it had been slain.

The Lion and the Lamb

This is the beautiful “both-and” of Jesus. He is the Lion (power, authority, and kingship) and He is the Lamb (meekness, sacrifice, and gentleness). His ultimate power is displayed not through worldly conquest, but through His willingness to give His life for others.

Because He was slain, He is worthy to take the scroll. He is the only one who can take God’s plan and carry it to fruition on the earth.

Our Response: Presence and Prayer One of the most moving images in this scene is the “golden bowls full of incense,” which are the prayers of God’s people. Don’t miss this: when you pray, your words go directly into the throne room. They are held in the very center of the universe’s power.

As we look toward the one who is King of Kings, our response—like that of the elders and the angels—is worship. We can press on, knowing that the One who holds the scroll also holds us.

God's Kingdom Come - The Scandalous Guest List

Sun, 08 Feb 2026 15:36:10 -0400

To listen to the full unabridged audio listen here: The Scandalous Guest List

Today is Super Bowl Sunday—a day synonymous with gatherings, snacks, and “sportsball.” Whether you’re there for the game or just the commercials, it’s one of those rare nights where everyone chills out and has a good time.

But in the first century, parties were a different story. They weren’t “democratic” like ours today; they were highly structured, intentional, and governed by strict social rules. This context makes the story of Jesus at a dinner party in Luke 14:1-14 all the more shocking.

The Mirror of the Pharisee

In this passage, Jesus is invited to the home of a prominent Pharisee. It’s easy for us to cast the Pharisees as the “bad guys,” but in reality, they were the “devout believers” of their time. They loved God, studied Scripture, and tried to live faithfully.

If we are people who go to church, pray, and center our lives on God, the Pharisees are our people. They are a mirror for us. When Jesus challenges them, he is challenging us.

Flipping the Script

While at the party, Jesus notices guests scrambling for the “places of honor.” He offers a counter-cultural lesson on humility: “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

In an age where the most desired career for emerging generations is to be a “social media influencer,” this message of self-abasement feels more radical than ever. But Jesus doesn’t stop at personal humility; he turns his attention to the guest list itself.

“When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors… But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.”

The “Arm’s Length” People

Jesus’ challenge is simple but devastating: Don’t just invite the people who are just like you. It’s easy to do life with people who share our socioeconomic status, our politics, or our background. That’s comfortable. But Jesus points toward those on the fringes—the people who cannot repay the favor. In the first century, that meant the disabled and the destitute. Today, it refers to whoever is on the “outside” of your specific circle.

Who are the “arm’s length” people for you?

The person whose politics make your blood boil?
The neighbor who is “messy” or struggling with addiction?
The people who have a completely different lifestyle or worldview?

The Scandal of the Gospel

The scandal of the Gospel is that it isn’t just for the “normies” or the people who have it all figured out. It is for everyone.

Inviting “those people” to your table—to your Super Bowl party, your dinner table, or your life—is costly. It might cost you your social standing or make your religious friends uncomfortable. People might even “side-eye” you for who you’re seen with.

But that is exactly where Jesus is.

A “Triple Dog Dare”

This week, I have a challenge for you. It’s a “triple dog dare” of the highest order:

Be Honest: Identify who “those people” are for you. Don’t say “I love everyone”—we all have a group we’d rather keep at a distance.
Pray for a Relationship: Ask God for the privilege of building a genuine relationship with someone from that group.

Imagine if our communities were filled with people who loved one another without condition, simply because we are all image-bearers of the divine. That wouldn’t just be a nice party; it would be a glimpse of heaven on earth.

1.1 What Is Spiritual Fitness?

Wed, 04 Feb 2026 14:44:50 -0400

A new season of The Pastor Next Door is live.

Season 1 begins with a simple question: What do we mean when we talk about “spiritual fitness”?

Not hustle. Not self-improvement. Not another thing to fail at.

Just a conversation about forming the capacity to trust, love, and stay rooted in grace over time.

If faith has felt tiring or complicated lately, you’re not behind—you’re paying attention.

🎧 Episode 1: What Is Spiritual Fitness? (And What It Is Not)

#podcast #faith #spiritualformation

Transcript

Revelation 3 - The Last Four Churches

Tue, 03 Feb 2026 17:32:33 -0400

To listen to the full unabridged audio listen here: The Last Four Churches

We are picking up right where we left off in Revelation chapter 2. Last time, we covered the first three churches: Ephesus, Smyrna, and Pergamum. Today, we turn our attention to the final four.

As a reminder, each of these letters is addressed to the “angel” of that particular church. Many commentators, myself included, believe the Greek word angelos is better translated here as “messenger” or “pastor.” It makes much more sense in this context that these letters are being addressed to the earthly overseers of these congregations.

Furthermore, we must remember that the number seven represents completion. While these were seven real, historical churches in Asia Minor, they also provide a composite image of the whole church in all places for all time. As we walk through these descriptions, you might see glimpses of our own church, or perhaps a reflection of a season we’ve walked through in the past.

Thyatira: The Danger of Appearances

Reading: Revelation 2:18–29

Thyatira was a trade hub on the road to the capital, Pergamum. It was a manufacturing center filled with “trade guilds”—think of them like labor unions for carpenters, weavers, or bakers. The catch? Each guild had its own “god.” To be successful in business, you were expected to attend guild parties, offer sacrifices, and often engage in the ritual immorality that followed.

For a Christian, this created a crisis of integrity. If you didn’t participate, you didn’t get work. If you didn’t get work, you didn’t eat.

Enter “Jezebel.” Whether this was a specific woman or a symbolic name (referencing the Old Testament queen who led Israel into idolatry), she was teaching a dangerous compromise: Go into the darkness to be relevant. She suggested that Christians could participate in these pagan rituals as a way to “know the deep secrets” of the enemy, perhaps under the guise of being more effective witnesses.

Jesus describes himself here as having “eyes like blazing fire”—the kind of gaze that looks straight into the soul. He commends their service and love, noting they are doing more now than at the start. On the outside, Thyatira looked like a “mega-church” success story. But on the inside, they were tolerating a rot that compromised their very identity.

Sardis: The Church on Autopilot

Reading: Revelation 3:1–6

Sardis is the church of “resting on your laurels.” Jesus tells them, “You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead.” They were living in the past. They were like sports fans who only want to talk about the championship they won in the nineties while ignoring the fact that they haven’t won a game in years. They had become apathetic and lazy in their faith, “soiling their clothes” with the dust of inactivity.

Jesus’ command is simple: Wake up. A church cannot survive on history alone; faith requires a present, active movement of the Spirit.

Philadelphia: Success Defined as Faithfulness

Reading: Revelation 3:7–13

Philadelphia was a small, missionary-minded city. In the eyes of the world, this church was insignificant. They didn’t have the wealth of Laodicea or the political status of Pergamum.

Yet, Jesus has no rebuke for them. Why? Because they endured patiently. They held onto the Word despite having “little strength.”

This is a vital word for us today. In American Christianity, we often measure success by the “Triple Bs”: Butts in seats, Bucks in the plate, and Buildings on the campus. But to Jesus, success is defined by one thing: Faithfulness. If a church remains loyal to the Gospel, Jesus considers it a triumph.

Laodicea: The Wretchedness of Self-Sufficiency

Reading: Revelation 3:14–22

Laodicea was the “Birmingham, Michigan” of the region—a place of extreme wealth and power. The people there were hoity-toity, and they knew it. They claimed, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.”

But Jesus gives them an “Emperor’s New Clothes” moment. He tells them they are actually “wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.” They were lukewarm—neither the refreshing cold water of the mountains nor the healing hot springs of nearby Hierapolis. They were the room-temperature water that makes you want to gag.

What is beautiful here is Jesus’ tone. He doesn’t come in swinging punches. He says, “I counsel you…” It is a gentle invitation to trade their temporary wealth for “gold refined in fire.” He stands at the door and knocks, asking for a return to intimacy.

The Remnant and the Standard

In almost every one of these letters, Jesus mentions a remnant—a small group of people who are still doing the work, even when the institution around them has grown cold or compromised.

As followers of Christ, we are held to a higher standard. We don’t get to hide behind the excuse of being “just human” to justify hypocrisy. Like a teacher who gives a gifted student a ‘C’ because they know the student is capable of ‘A’ work, Christ disciplines those He loves because He wants the best version of us.

The American church today reflects a lot of Laodicea. We are comfortable, we are wealthy, and we often substitute business principles for the move of the Spirit. The question for us—and for every church in every age—is this: Will we hear the voice of the One knocking, and will we have the courage to open the door?

The rest of Revelation is going to get “exceptionally weird,” but if we hold onto these principles of integrity and perseverance, the vision becomes clear. It is not a book of fear; it is a call to remain faithful to the end.

The Sword and the Living Sacrifice - Why Romans 13 is Not About Blind Obedience

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 18:46:01 -0400

In light of recent events in Minnesota and elsewhere regarding the work of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), I have seen many people cite Romans 13:1–7. It is often used as a “trump card” to end any argument. Too often, I think those citing the passage haven’t thought deeply about it or considered its original context. So, I revisited the text to consider again what Paul is actually arguing in the opening verses of chapter 13 in his magisterial letter to the Romans.

The Passage (NIV)

“Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong… For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good… Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also as a matter of conscience.

This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing. Give to everyone what you owe them: If you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor.”

The Tension

On the surface, the passage appears quite straightforward: Do what the government tells you, and things will go well. Disobey, and things will go badly.

Could it really be that simple? If it were, so much ink wouldn’t have been spilled over these seven verses. As I sat down with the text and various commentaries, I was struck by a massive tension every interpreter must wrestle with: How could Paul write this when he had personally experienced unjust treatment at the hands of Rome? He knew many other followers of Jesus were also experiencing state-sanctioned injustice. Trying to resolve this tension drives the various ways people seek to understand Paul’s intent. Personally, I wish I could ask him: Was this meant to be prescriptive for all people in all places, or was it specific to the needs of the Roman church at that time?

Note: I won’t walk through every perspective here. If you want to dive deeper, check out the Pillar New Testament Commentary by Colin G. Kruse, Romans by Robert Jewett, or Paul for Everyone by N.T. Wright. The first two are more academic; Wright’s is an accessible summary. I’m not providing a deep exegesis here, but rather a “10,000-foot perspective” to provide a scaffolding for further thought.

A Two-Fold Understanding

I believe the best way to understand this passage today is through two lenses:

The Necessity of Order: This passage takes seriously the reality that humanity needs government. Anarchy allows the worst aspects of human nature to run unchecked. God, in grace, grants authority to human governments to bring order to society. Even in flawed governments, there is usually some general order that prevents total mayhem.
- Note: Paul’s argument is actually subversive. By saying Rome’s authority comes from God, he is claiming that Caesar is accountable to the Father of Jesus, not the Roman pantheon.
The Condition of Honor: The final verse offers a conditional statement that frees us from blind subservience to evil. Paul says: “Give to everyone what you owe them… if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor.” This protects the believer in two ways:
- Integrity: If the government provides public goods (roads, schools, safety), we owe them our taxes. (This strikes a blow to the “taxes are theft” crowd.)
- Resistance: It opens the door to challenge authority when it acts unjustly. If an authority does not act respectably or honorably, respect and honor are not “owed.” We see Paul himself model this in Acts, where he vigorously challenges the authorities after being unjustly arrested.

Conclusion

Romans 13:1–7 provides the foundation for a healthy understanding of good government and the grounds for a case against bad government. We recognize that authorities are the ideal means by which evil is punished and good rewarded. However, when a government fails to do this—when it wields the “sword” unjustly—our consciences are free to withhold the honor it demands.

In the midst of this, we must hold to the broader principle of Romans 13:8: “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another.” Love does no harm to a neighbor. If the law or the government causes harm, love becomes the higher fulfillment of the law.

God's Kingdom Come - The Kingdom That Grows Small

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 10:50:51 -0400

To listen to the unbridged message: God’s Kingdom Come - The Kingdom That Grows Small

There is a famous story about a little boy walking along a beach scattered with starfish that have washed ashore. As he walks, he bends down, picks up a starfish, and throws it back into the ocean. Over and over again, he does the same thing.

A grizzled old man approaches him and says, “You know you’re making no difference, right? There are far too many starfish. You can’t possibly save them all. What does it matter?”

The boy bends down, picks up another starfish, and replies, “It matters to this one.” And he throws it back into the sea.

It’s a story most of us have heard before, but it remains a powerful reminder of how easily we fall into all-or-nothing thinking. If we can’t fix everything, why do anything at all? If we can’t make a big dent, why bother with the small effort?

The prophet Zechariah once named this temptation with a single, piercing sentence:

“Do not despise the day of small things.”

That line feels almost subversive in a world obsessed with size, scale, speed, and spectacle. And it sits right at the heart of Jesus’ teaching about the kingdom of heaven.

We Expect Big. God Begins Small.

We tend to assume that if God’s kingdom is going to come, it should come loudly, visibly, and immediately. Big movements. Big numbers. Big impact.

In recent decades, even the church has absorbed this mindset. We’ve been told that growth must be fast and obvious. That success means visibility. That effectiveness requires scale.

But Jesus doesn’t say the kingdom is like a fireworks display.

He says it’s like a mustard seed.

Now, no, the mustard seed is not technically the smallest seed in existence. Jesus is speaking the way people speak when they tell stories—using familiar, embodied language. Anyone who had ever held a mustard seed knew just how tiny it was. And that’s the point.

Something small. Something easy to overlook. Something that looks insignificant.

And yet, when planted, it grows into something far larger than anyone would expect.

Growth Requires Care

There’s something else worth noticing here. Seeds don’t grow on their own.

They need soil. They need water. They need care. They need time.

The same is true of yeast. A tiny bit of leaven doesn’t magically transform sixty pounds of flour. It has to be worked in. Kneaded. Given attention. Allowed to do its slow, quiet work.

Jesus is describing a kingdom that grows under care. A kingdom nurtured in hidden places. A kingdom shaped through patient, faithful presence.

This isn’t random growth. It’s relational growth.

A Place to Rest. A Place to Belong.

When the mustard seed becomes a tree, Jesus says the birds come and perch in its branches. They rest there. Eventually, they build nests. They make a home.

That image matters.

The kingdom of heaven is not just something that expands.
It’s something that shelters.

It becomes a place where weary people can rest. A place where lives can take root. A place of protection, belonging, and home.

The same is true of the bread made from leavened dough. What starts as a small, almost invisible ingredient becomes life-sustaining nourishment for many.

Small things. Faithfully tended. Becoming life for others.

Do Not Despise the Day of Small Things

We live in a world that tells us small doesn’t matter.

Small gestures. Small communities. Small acts of care. Small beginnings.

God says otherwise.

God delights in small things. God works through hidden things. God grows life in quiet, patient ways.

The kingdom doesn’t start large. It doesn’t need to. It grows.

So How Do We Participate?

The invitation here is not to do more or try harder. It’s not a call to volunteer, perform, or produce.

It’s a call to connect.

To connect with one another. To share life. To practice presence. To open our tables and our homes. To break bread together. To listen to one another’s stories.

You eat meals every week. One of them could become holy ground. One of them could become a place where the kingdom quietly grows.

This is how we participate in the kingdom. This is how the seed is tended. This is how the dough is worked. This is how we discover rest, nourishment, and home.

Because sometimes, the smallest things matter most.

A Prayer

Gracious God,
Thank You for a kingdom that grows quietly and faithfully.
Forgive us when we despise small beginnings or overlook hidden work.
Teach us to trust You as You grow life in us and among us.
Root us deeply in love,
that we might find rest, nourishment, and home together.
We pray this in Jesus’ name.
Amen.

God's Kingdom Come - God's Kingdom Reorders Our Lives

Sun, 25 Jan 2026 22:01:06 -0400

You can listen to the unabridged message here: God’s Kingdom Reorders Our Lives

Matthew chapter 5 opens what we often call the Sermon on the Mount. If you’ve ever read this section in a red-letter Bible, you know the feeling: suddenly the page looks packed, your eyes start swimming, and it can feel a little overwhelming.

This morning we’re focusing our attention on the opening 11 verses—the Beatitudes—as we continue our Epiphany series, God’s Kingdom Come. Each week we pray the Lord’s Prayer, asking:

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

During this season we’re wrestling with a simple but challenging question: What are we actually praying for when we pray for God’s kingdom to come?

Honestly, Matthew 5–7 could have been the whole series. It’s the longest stretch of uninterrupted teaching we get from Jesus. We also find a similar sermon in Luke 6—often called the “Sermon on the Plain”—and some people point to that and say, “Contradiction!”

But here’s the thing: the headings in our Bibles weren’t part of the original text. We call it the “Sermon on the Mount” because Matthew says Jesus went up a mountainside. Luke says he taught from a level place. When you visit the traditional site in Israel, you find… a hillside with level places. Jesus likely stood in a flat spot while teaching on a hillside. That’s not a contradiction. That’s geography.

And even if Jesus delivered similar teaching on more than one occasion—well, it turns out preachers reuse sermons. Especially traveling, itinerant preachers speaking to different crowds. If this teaching sits at the center of Jesus’ vision for life in God’s kingdom, it shouldn’t surprise us that he would return to it again and again.

The Beatitudes: The Kingdom’s Outline

The Beatitudes function like an introduction, an outline, a kind of “Cliff’s Notes” for everything Jesus is about to teach. Jesus raises these themes, then spends the rest of Matthew 5–7 unfolding them.

Here is the text:

“Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them. He said:

‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.’”
(Matthew 5:1–12)

There’s so much here we could spend weeks on these lines alone. But as my Mimi used to say:

“The heart can absorb only what the backside can endure.”

So today we’re staying at a 100,000-foot view.

What Are We Praying For?

When we pray, “Your kingdom come…,” one simple answer might be this:

We are praying for the Beatitudes to become reality.
Not just as ideals we admire, but as a way of life that shapes us—personally, communally, socially, and culturally.

In other words: This is what God’s kingdom looks like when it breaks into the world.

What does it look like to live under the reign of a crucified and risen King?
What does it look like to follow the One who willingly gives his life for people who despise him?

It looks like this.

The Kingdom and the People It Blesses

Blessed are those who mourn

We live in a culture that often treats mourning like something you do quickly and then move on from—especially in a kind of stiff-upper-lip Protestant world.

But Jesus says: the one who mourns will be comforted.

That comfort is not a command to “get over it.” It’s a picture of arms around shoulders. It’s companionship. It’s presence. It’s empathy. It’s people who walk with you, love you through it, and refuse to leave you alone.

That is the way of the kingdom.

Blessed are the meek

This one is deeply countercultural.

In our world, who inherits the earth? The powerful. The dominant. The ones with the biggest weapons, the strongest influence, the ability to intimidate.

Jesus says: no—the meek inherit the earth.

But we misunderstand meekness. Meekness isn’t weakness. Meekness is strength under control—power restrained for the good of others. It’s someone who could crush, dominate, retaliate… and chooses not to.

Meekness is power used for blessing.

I think of a video from a youth basketball game. There’s one kid—head and shoulders bigger than everyone else. He grabs a rebound and instead of putting it back up, he hands it to the smallest kid on the floor. Then he boxes everyone out so the little guy can shoot. The little guy misses—big kid rebounds and hands it back. Misses again—same thing. Finally the small kid makes it, and the whole gym erupts.

That’s meekness.

The strong using strength on behalf of the small.
Power restrained and redirected toward love.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness

This righteousness is both being made right with God and joining God in setting the world right.

Jesus says those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled—and the word has the sense of being fully satisfied, like the contentment after a feast.

But notice: the satisfaction comes in the process. Those who chase justice and pursue righteousness are not abandoned in the struggle. The kingdom meets them there, and one day God will finish what they long for.

Blessed are the merciful

Mercy is upside down in our world.

Our culture often runs on retaliation:
“If they did it, I get to do it.”
“If they hurt me, I can hurt them back—worse.”

Jesus says: no—show mercy.

And mercy returns—not always from the world, but certainly from God. The kingdom trains us to become people who refuse revenge and embody grace.

Blessed are the pure in heart

If we’re honest, this one can feel intimidating. Who among us is pure in heart?

But the good news is: we are not made pure by our own effort. We are made pure by grace—by being united to Christ. And then our lives begin to reflect that inner transformation in a new way of living.

A pure heart doesn’t mean a perfect record. It means a life being reordered from the inside out.

Blessed are the peacemakers

We confuse peacemaking with peacekeeping.

Peacekeeping tries to keep everything quiet.
Peacemaking steps into conflict.

A peacemaker is someone who stands between two hostile parties and brings them together—ending hostility. That’s dangerous work. It requires courage, hope, and the willingness to absorb misunderstanding and resistance from both sides.

And that’s why peacemakers are rare: it’s easier to destroy than to reconcile.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness

This is one of the most revealing lines, because when you start actually living out righteousness, you may discover something surprising:

sometimes the sharpest persecution comes from your own side.

Doing what’s right often requires telling your own team the truth. And people don’t like that. We want righteousness until it requires repentance.

The kingdom way can cost us—sometimes in public, sometimes in private, sometimes in relationships we didn’t expect to become complicated.

The Kingdom Is a Total Reordering

Jesus is not offering spiritual tips for a better life. He is unveiling a new world.

The Beatitudes describe a way of living that subverts every power-driven system—ancient Rome, modern nationalism, authoritarianism, the endless “isms” that promise security through dominance.

The Jesus way is not the way of grasping.
It’s the way of humility.
It’s the way of self-sacrificial love.

And that’s why it’s hard.

Following Jesus opens us to misunderstanding, mockery, and opposition—because our allegiance is to Christ above every other loyalty. The Beatitudes don’t just challenge the world “out there.” They challenge us.

As G.K. Chesterton famously put it:

Christianity has not been tried and found wanting.
It has been found difficult—and left untried.

The road is narrow because it costs us everything.

One Question for This Week

Here’s my challenge for you:

Which Beatitude do you think is absolute bunk?
Which one do you read and think, “That’s cute, Jesus… but it doesn’t work in the world we live in.”

Which one feels unrealistic? Outdated? Naive?

Because that one—the one you resist—is likely the one you most need to sit with. The one you need to pray through. The one that reveals where your heart is rubbing against the kingdom.

I can’t pick that one for you. I know what mine are.

I struggle with mercy.
I struggle with meekness.

I want to clap back.
I want to dominate.
I want to “win.”

And Jesus keeps inviting me into a different way.

So which one is it for you?

0.2 - Brittle Faith to Enduring Faith

Thu, 22 Jan 2026 12:11:35 -0400

What if the cracking of your faith isn’t a failure—but an invitation?

Many of us were given a version of faith that worked right up until life applied pressure. Built on certainty, rules, and platitudes, it held together for a while. But grief, doubt, disappointment, and silence from God have a way of exposing how brittle that kind of faith really is.

In this episode of The Pastor Next Door, we explore the difference between brittle faith and enduring faith—and why the breaking apart of faith may actually be the beginning of something deeper and more honest.

In this episode, we explore:

Why faith rooted in agreement collapses under real life
How control masquerades as spirituality—and why relationship matters more
Why doubt and lament are not threats to faith, but signs of it
What it means to trust God without certainty
How Scripture (especially the Psalms) gives us permission to speak honestly
Why faith is not something we perform for God, but practice with God

Drawing from Scripture, personal story, and the words of a desperate father who prayed, “I believe; help my unbelief,” this episode makes space for wrestling, grief, and unfinished faith—without shame.

If your faith feels fragile right now, you’re not behind.
You might actually be paying attention.

This episode also sets the stage for what’s coming next on the podcast:

Season 1: Personal spiritual fitness — slow, ordinary practices rooted in grace
Season 2: Faith deconstruction and reconstruction
Season 3: Community, connection, and belonging
Season 4: Leadership without burnout

No quick fixes.
No pressure to arrive.
Just an honest, grace-filled space to keep going.

Take your time.
Grace and peace, friends.
May you love well.

Transcript

Revelation 2 - The First Three Churches

Wed, 21 Jan 2026 12:40:38 -0400

For the full unabridged audio check it out here: Revelation 2 - The First Three Churches

In this session of Beyond Sunday School, we turn our attention to Revelation chapters 2 and 3 and begin working our way through the letters to the seven churches. We won’t get through all seven at once, but we’ll start with the first three: Ephesus, Smyrna, and Pergamum.

Before looking at each church individually, there are a couple of important reminders that shape how we read these chapters.

A Word About “Angels”

Each letter is addressed “to the angel of the church.” The Greek word angelos simply means messenger. In this context, it is best understood not as a heavenly being, but as the church’s human leader—its pastor or minister.

In other words, these letters are addressed to those responsible for leading and teaching the church.

The Pattern of the Letters

As we work through the churches, we’ll notice a consistent pattern:

Jesus addresses the messenger of the church
Jesus identifies himself using imagery drawn from Revelation 1
Jesus offers a commendation
Jesus gives a rebuke (though not every church receives one)
Jesus calls for repentance or faithfulness
Jesus makes a promise to “the one who conquers”

With that structure in mind, we turn to the first three churches.

Ephesus: Faithful but Loveless

(Revelation 2:1–7)

Jesus identifies himself to Ephesus as the one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands. The image is powerful: Christ holds the messengers securely and is fully present among his churches.

Ephesus receives strong praise. They work hard. They persevere. They reject false teachers. They endure hardship for Christ’s name. From the outside, this church looks incredibly healthy—orthodox in belief and active in ministry.

But then comes the rebuke:

“You have forsaken the love you had at first.”

This is a chilling warning. A church can believe all the right things and do all the right things—and still be spiritually dead. Love for Christ and love for others can be replaced with duty, habit, or mere correctness.

Jesus calls them to repent and return to their first love. The warning is severe: if they do not, their lampstand will be removed. And history tells us that Ephesus eventually disappeared. The church that once thrived there no longer exists.

The lesson is sobering. Faithfulness without love eventually collapses. We still see this pattern today in churches that appear successful but are hollow at the core, leaving behind spiritual harm and confusion.

The promise to those who overcome is life—access to the tree of life in the paradise of God. Faithfulness rooted in love leads to true life.

Smyrna: Faithful Through Suffering

(Revelation 2:8–11)

To Smyrna, Jesus identifies himself as the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. This matters deeply, because Smyrna is a suffering church.

Jesus knows their afflictions and poverty. Though materially poor, they are spiritually rich. Unlike Ephesus, Smyrna receives no rebuke at all.

Instead, Jesus prepares them for further suffering—imprisonment, persecution, even death. He calls them to remain faithful, reminding them that he has already conquered death itself.

The reference to suffering for “ten days” points not to a hidden timeline, but to a limited and purposeful season. Their suffering is real, but it is not endless.

Historically, Smyrna was filled with trade guilds that required participation in pagan worship. Christians who refused were excluded, leading to economic hardship and poverty. Following Jesus cost them dearly.

Jesus does not promise escape from suffering. He promises his presence through it—and resurrection life beyond it.

The promise is clear: the one who overcomes will not be harmed by the second death.

Pergamum: Faithful but Compromised

(Revelation 2:12–17)

Pergamum was the center of Roman political power and emperor worship in the region. Jesus identifies himself here as the one who has the sharp, double-edged sword—the Word of God.

This church is commended for holding fast to Christ’s name, even in a place described as where “Satan has his throne.” They remained faithful despite persecution and martyrdom.

But compromise had crept in.

Some in the church tolerated teaching that encouraged participation in idolatry and sexual immorality—echoing the story of Balaam in Numbers 25. The logic was subtle but dangerous: idols aren’t real, so participation doesn’t matter. Cultural accommodation was justified in the name of survival or influence.

Jesus calls them to repent. Faithfulness, he insists, cannot be separated from obedience.

To those who overcome, Jesus promises hidden manna—God’s provision—and a white stone with a new name. The imagery points to a new identity and belonging that comes not from cultural alignment, but from union with Christ.

Our identity is received, not achieved. It is shaped by the Word of God, not by the surrounding culture.

Where We Leave Off

We’ve made it through the first three churches. Next time, we’ll continue with the remaining four.

If you’d like to be part of the live conversation and discussion, you’re invited to join us on Tuesdays at 12:30 p.m. at Peace Presbyterian Church for the recording of Beyond Sunday School.

Until next time, we keep climbing—looking for faithful handholds as we make our way through Revelation.

God's Kingdom Come - The Kingdom Received

Sun, 18 Jan 2026 15:35:58 -0400

If you would like to listen to the whole unabridged version it is available here: The Kingdom Received

It was the middle of July in 2001. A couple of weeks earlier, Amy and I had been sitting in her doctor’s office for a routine appointment—ultrasound, measurements, all the usual things. At the end of the visit, the doctor looked at us and said, “I think it’s time for this baby to be born.” The baby was getting a little too big and needed to make an appearance.

This was our first child. We didn’t know the gender—we were doing the surprise thing—and suddenly we were nervous. But the doctor reassured us: “Don’t worry. We’ll schedule a time. You come in on this day, at this time, and we’ll get things started.”

It felt strange knowing exactly when we were going to have a baby—unless God intervened. God did not intervene. And even with all the medical help, it still took nearly 24 hours before Ethan finally made his way into the world.

Before heading to the hospital, we went out for one last meal—our “last supper,” if you will—at a little Italian place in Bloomington–Normal called Avanti’s. Baked ziti, spaghetti, and that famous Avanti’s bread. Warm, sweet, and absolutely filled with sugar. Delicious.

Then we went to the hospital. And eventually, there he was.

What Does This Have to Do with the Kingdom?

So you might be wondering what any of this has to do with the Kingdom of God.

Let’s turn to Mark 10:

People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.”
— Mark 10:13–16

A couple of things matter here.

First, the word translated “little children” is a diminutive in Greek. It doesn’t mean toddlers. It means the smallest children—infants, babies.

That changes the picture.

This isn’t a scene of preschoolers running up to Jesus. It’s parents bringing their infants to him, asking for blessing.

Second, the idea of Jesus touching them wasn’t strange in their world. In the Jewish tradition, a prophet’s touch was understood as a sign of blessing—a way of passing along God’s favor. These parents believed Jesus was deeply connected to the divine, and that his touch could mark their children’s lives.

The disciples, however, step in to stop it.

From our modern perspective, that seems ridiculous. Why would anyone keep babies away from Jesus?

But in the first-century world, babies weren’t sentimentalized the way they are today. They were dependent, non-productive, resource-draining necessities. Women, slaves, and infants all occupied the lowest rungs of the social ladder. Babies were not treasured—they were endured.

So when parents bring infants to Jesus, the disciples see them as interruptions. Hindrances. Distractions from “important” kingdom work.

And Jesus is furious.

Mark tells us he was indignant—deeply, visibly angry. He says, “Let the babies come to me. Do not hinder them. For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”

Receiving, Not Achieving

This is where we often misunderstand the passage.

We tend to say the kingdom belongs to children because they’re trusting, humble, or innocent. But infants aren’t innocent in the way we imagine. I’ve watched a crawling baby knowingly disobey while smiling the entire time.

That’s not the point.

The kingdom belongs to such as these because infants have nothing to offer.

They bring no achievement.
No productivity.
No credentials.

Only need.

This is what Jesus is getting at when he says the kingdom must be received like a little child. Not earned. Not achieved. Not grasped. Received.

Like a newborn placed into the arms of parents who give everything while expecting nothing in return.

Entering the kingdom happens only by grace—because the King says, “You are welcome.”

When we come saying, “I’ve got nothing,” Jesus says, “Perfect.”

The Long Way Home

One of my favorite books growing up was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. There’s a line near the end where Lucy is told she’ll return to Narnia—but not by looking for it.

That’s the kingdom.

You don’t find it by striving.
You don’t enter by effort.
You receive it in helplessness.

So here’s the question I want you to sit with this week:

How are you seeking the kingdom?

Are you still trying to earn your way in?
Trying to prove something?
Trying to deserve grace?

Or are you coming with empty hands—utterly dependent?

Because when we finally let go, we discover that the kingdom has already been given.

And in that place, we are welcomed into Christ’s arms and blessed.

0.1 — Grace Is the Environment Where Growth Happens

Wed, 14 Jan 2026 13:28:45 -0400

Welcome to The Pastor Next Door.

This is Season 0, Episode 1—the beginning of a small, slow, grace-centered project built around one core conviction: grace is the environment where growth happens.

In this opening episode, I introduce the heart behind the podcast and the idea of spiritual fitness—not as striving, productivity, or self-optimization, but as a growing capacity to live from our union with Christ. This is not a podcast about rules, recipes, or becoming impressive. It’s about becoming available.

We talk about:

Why spiritual fitness should never be exhausting or moralistic
How grace, not effort, grounds the Christian life
Union with Christ as the starting point—not the goal
Why hurry works against spiritual formation
Doubt as a companion to faith, not its enemy
Ordinary faithfulness over “radical” spirituality
Why this podcast can never replace real, embodied community

Season 0 sets the theological and pastoral foundation for everything that follows. Upcoming seasons will explore personal spiritual fitness, faith deconstruction and reconstruction, congregational life, and leadership—always returning to grace as the starting place.

You don’t need to fix your faith to be here.
You don’t need certainty.
You don’t need to arrive.

Just come as you are. Stay as long as you need.

Next episode: A Faith That Endures

Love well, my friends.

Transcript

Revelation 1 - Seeing the Voice of the Risen Christ

Wed, 14 Jan 2026 12:20:50 -0400

What follows is an abbreviated transcript of the live recording. To listen to an unabridged version you can listen here: Revelation 1 - Seeing the Voice of the Risen Christ

Revelation chapter 1 functions as the doorway into the entire book. It sets the tone, establishes the purpose, and introduces us to the Christ we will encounter throughout the vision. The chapter unfolds in three movements: a prologue, an opening greeting, and a breathtaking vision of the risen Jesus.

A Revelation, Not a Disaster

The book opens with these words:

“The revelation from Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place…” (Revelation 1:1–3)

The word translated revelation comes from the Greek apokalypsis. Over time, “apocalypse” has come to mean devastation or catastrophe, but that was never its original meaning. Apokalypsis means an unveiling, a revealing. Revelation is not meant to terrify God’s people—it is meant to reveal Jesus Christ.

This unveiling flows downward: God the Father gives the revelation to Jesus, Jesus sends it through an angel, the angel delivers it to John, and John bears witness to what he has seen so that the church might hear it. From the very beginning, Revelation is presented as a book meant to be read aloud in worship and received by God’s people together.

There is a blessing promised here—not only for the one who reads it, but for those who hear it and take it to heart. Revelation is not an outlier text reserved for specialists or thrill-seekers. It is Scripture given to sustain the church.

Avoiding the Two Ditches

Historically, Christians tend to fall into one of two ditches when it comes to Revelation.

The first is wooden literalism—trying to decode every symbol, map timelines, and assign modern equivalents to every image. The second is avoidance—treating Revelation as too strange or confusing to bother with, preferring to camp out in more familiar territory.

Both approaches miss the point.

Revelation is meant to be heard, received, and trusted because it forms God’s people for perseverance. When rightly understood, it encourages faithfulness in the face of suffering. It reminds us that evil does not have the final word and that history is moving toward God’s promised future.

A Trinitarian Greeting

John addresses the seven churches of Asia with grace and peace from:

the one who is, who was, and who is to come,
the seven spirits before the throne,
and Jesus Christ.

This is a profoundly Trinitarian greeting. The “seven spirits” should be understood as the Holy Spirit—the fullness and perfection of God’s presence. Jesus is described as the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.

That last phrase would have landed with particular force for Christians living under Roman rule. The emperor claimed ultimate authority, yet John boldly declares that Jesus—not Caesar—is the true ruler of the world. For a persecuted church, this was not abstract theology; it was encouragement to endure.

A Kingdom of Priests

Jesus is also the one who loves us, frees us from our sins by his blood, and makes us a kingdom of priests. Salvation is not merely rescue from something; it is a calling into something. God’s people are freed in order to serve—to mediate God’s presence in the world and invite creation into worship.

Revelation consistently resists the idea of faith as an escape plan. We are not saved in order to withdraw from the world, but to faithfully inhabit it as priests of God’s kingdom.

The Coming King

Revelation 1 gives us our first glimpse of Christ’s return:

“Look, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him…”

This is no secret event. Scripture does not envision a hidden or silent return of Christ. His coming will be unmistakable, public, and universal. The goal is not the church escaping the world, but God renewing it—bringing heaven and earth together, making all things new.

The mourning described here is not merely fear or judgment. It is the human response to overwhelming holiness. Like Isaiah before the throne of God, humanity will be undone by the beauty and purity of Christ.

Seeing the Voice

John then describes his vision of the risen Jesus—language so rich and symbolic it defies literal interpretation. The imagery is not meant to be diagrammed but felt. Jesus’ appearance overwhelms John, who falls as though dead.

Yet the story does not end there.

Jesus places his right hand on John—a sign of fellowship and reassurance—and says, “Do not be afraid.” The holy Christ is also the gentle Savior. The one who terrifies is the same one who comforts.

Jesus declares that he was dead and is now alive forever, holding the keys of death and Hades. Death is no longer the final enemy. Jesus has entered it, defeated it, and emerged victorious. For believers facing suffering or even martyrdom, this is hope: death has been unlocked from the inside.

The Church Held in His Hand

The chapter ends with Jesus explaining the vision. The seven lampstands represent the seven churches, and the seven stars in his hand represent their messengers—the pastors entrusted with their care. The image is one of protection and presence. The church exists not by its own strength but because it is held securely by Christ.

Why Revelation Matters

Revelation does not give us a timeline to master. It gives us a vision to inhabit. It shapes our imagination so that we can live faithfully in the present, confident in God’s future.

It calls us to patient endurance, faithful witness, and hope rooted not in escape, but in resurrection.

And above all, it reveals Jesus Christ—alive, reigning, and present with his people.

God's Kingdom Come - God's Kingdom Comes Near

Sun, 11 Jan 2026 15:34:18 -0400

To listen to the full audio of this message you can click here: God’s Kingdom Come - God’s Kingdom Comes Near We’ve entered a new season in the life of the church.

Every year, Christians move through a rhythm that shapes our imagination and our lives. Our “new year” doesn’t begin on January 1, but with Advent, as we prepare for Christ’s coming. That preparation gives way to the twelve days of Christmas, which conclude on January 6 with Epiphany—the season when we reflect on what it means for Jesus to be revealed as Messiah, King, and Emmanuel, God with us.

Epiphany is a season of unveiling. In some traditions it’s marked by special services, familiar hymns like We Three Kings, and even cultural celebrations like king cakes. But beneath all of that symbolism is a deeper question: What does it mean that Jesus is King—and what kind of kingdom does he bring?

Epiphany also serves as a bridge. It continues our preparation and leads us toward Lent. And so, over the next several weeks, we’re going to spend time wrestling with Jesus’ announcement of God’s kingdom.

What Are We Really Praying For?

Every week, when we gather for worship, we pray the Lord’s Prayer:

“Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.”
(Matthew 6:10)

We pray this so often that it can become familiar—almost automatic. But have we really paused to consider what we’re asking for?

When we pray for something specific—healing, guidance, provision—we usually have a clear picture in mind. But when we pray “your kingdom come,” what are we envisioning? What would it actually look like if God’s kingdom showed up right here, right now? Would we recognize it? Would we be ready for it? Or might we be looking for something else entirely?

These are the questions we’ll be sitting with together.

Our Assumptions About Kings and Kingdoms

When we hear the word kingdom, most of us immediately picture a king—someone with power, wealth, armies, and authority over others. Whether our image is romantic or cynical, it usually involves domination, control, and expansion.

Worldly kingdoms operate this way. Power flows from the top down. Success is measured by territory, influence, and strength. History gives us countless examples—from the Roman Empire to modern nations.

But is that what Jesus means when he announces the kingdom of heaven?

The Gospels suggest otherwise.

The kingdom Jesus brings is upside down. It does not operate by power over others, but by power with others. It does not move from the top down, but from the bottom up. Our King does not arrive on a warhorse with chariots and weapons. He comes as an infant—and leaves the scene on a cross (Philippians 2:6–8).

This kingdom reshapes everything we think we know about power, authority, and success.

The Kingdom Begins in an Unexpected Place

Matthew tells us that Jesus’ public ministry begins after John the Baptist is arrested (Matthew 4:12). With John’s voice silenced, Jesus steps forward and begins proclaiming the kingdom.

But notice where he goes.

Rather than launching his ministry in Jerusalem—the center of religious, political, and economic power—Jesus withdraws to Galilee (Matthew 4:13). Specifically, to Galilee of the Gentiles.

Galilee was a crossroads. Jews and Gentiles lived side by side. Commerce flowed through the region. It was a place where the message could spread outward. From the very beginning, Jesus signals that this kingdom is not reserved for one group or one nation. It is universal in scope (Matthew 28:19).

Matthew connects this moment to the prophet Isaiah:

“The people living in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land
of the shadow of death
a light has dawned.”
(Matthew 4:16; cf. Isaiah 9:1–2)

The kingdom of heaven arrives as light breaking into darkness.

“Repent, for the Kingdom Has Come Near”

Jesus’ message is remarkably simple:

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
(Matthew 4:17)

Unfortunately, the word repent carries a lot of baggage for us. Many of us hear it and immediately picture angry street preachers shouting threats of hellfire. Turn or burn.

But that is not what Jesus is doing here.

The word repent literally means to turn—to change direction. It’s a 180-degree reorientation of one’s life. Yes, it involves turning away from sin (cf. Colossians 3:5–9). But more importantly, it involves turning toward something.

Jesus is inviting people who are walking toward darkness—toward fear, death, and brokenness—to turn toward light, life, and wholeness. He is announcing that a new way of living is now available because the kingdom has drawn near.

Repentance is not just about what we leave behind. It’s about what we move toward.

From Darkness to Light

Throughout Scripture, the kingdom of God is described as a movement:

from darkness to light (Isaiah 9:2; John 1:5)
from death to life (John 5:24)
from fear to love (1 John 4:18)

Jesus later says it plainly:

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”
(John 10:10)

To repent, then, is to turn toward that life. To choose the way of love instead of fear. Grace instead of control. Light instead of darkness.

This kingdom is marked not by domination, but by the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23).

Paul describes this movement clearly:

“He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness
and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves.”
(Colossians 1:13)

A Question to Carry With Us

As we begin this journey through the teachings of Jesus about the kingdom, I want to invite you to hold one question in the back of your mind:

Which kingdom am I walking toward?

Am I oriented toward a dominion shaped by fear, anger, resentment, and power?
Or am I turning—again and again—toward the kingdom of the beloved Son, a kingdom rooted in light, love, mercy, and grace?

Jesus announces that God’s kingdom has come near. The invitation before us is not simply to believe that—but to turn toward it, and to learn how to live under a different King.

The Pastor Next Door Trailer

Thu, 08 Jan 2026 16:09:04 -0400

What if you had a pastor living next door? Not someone with all the answers— but someone willing to sit with your questions. A podcast for the curious, the skeptical, the faithful, and the worn-out.

New episodes coming soon.

#ThePastorNextDoor #Podcast #FaithAndDoubt #Spirituality #Christianity

🎧 Listen to the trailer…

Transcript

An Introduction to Revelation

Wed, 07 Jan 2026 12:37:49 -0400

You can listen to the full audio here: Beyond Sunday School: Revelation - Introduction

Revelation is one of the most misunderstood—and most avoided—books of the Bible. It can feel strange, confusing, even frightening. Dragons, beasts, bowls of wrath, angels, demons—it’s easy to wonder what we’re supposed to do with a book like this.

We begin with a simple question: What is Revelation actually trying to do?

My hope is that as we work through this book together, Revelation will become less scary and more hopeful, less about decoding the future and more about forming faithful people in the present.

A Letter to Real People

Revelation is, first and foremost, a letter. It was written to real churches, in real cities, facing real pressure and persecution.

The author tells us his name is John. Which John? We don’t know for sure and that’s okay. The original audience didn’t need that information to understand the message. Modern readers tend to fixate on details the ancient world simply didn’t worry about. They were less concerned with precision and more concerned with meaning.

Soaked in the Old Testament

One thing becomes clear almost immediately: Revelation is steeped in the Old Testament. Its imagery, symbols, and themes are drawn from Israel’s Scriptures. Revelation isn’t inventing a new story, it’s retelling God’s story using familiar images in unfamiliar ways.

That’s why we’ll keep circling back to the Old Testament as we go.

Not a Timeline, but a Spiral

Revelation doesn’t move in a straight line. It doesn’t unfold like a timeline where one event leads neatly to the next. Instead, it tells the same story over and over again, each time from a different angle.

After an opening vision and letters to seven real churches, the book pulls back the curtain and shows us a deeper reality: God’s throne, the Lamb, and the unseen spiritual forces at work in the world. From there, we move through cycles—the seals, the trumpets, the bowls—each retelling the story of creation, brokenness, redemption, and hope.

The theological word for this is recapitulation. Revelation spirals rather than progresses. Problems arise when we try to force it into a strict, linear timeline. That approach creates fear, speculation, and confusion; and it misses the point.

A Book Full of Symbols

Revelation communicates primarily through symbolism. That doesn’t make it less true; it’s simply how this kind of literature works.

When John describes Jesus with a sword coming out of his mouth, he’s not giving us a literal picture. He’s using imagery to communicate power—the Word of God that judges, heals, and restores. Revelation is full of scenes like this: vivid images meant to shape our imagination and faith.

When in doubt, symbolism is usually the right starting point.

Knowing Our Limits

We also need to admit our limitations. We are not first-century people. We don’t share the cultural instincts of Revelation’s original audience. There will be moments when the most honest answer is, we’re not entirely sure.

What we can say with confidence is this: Revelation cannot mean something to us that it did not mean to them. It was not written to predict modern geopolitics or chart the end of the world in detail.

What Revelation Is Really For

Revelation was written to encourage perseverance.

The churches receiving this letter were facing suffering and persecution. John himself was exiled by Rome. Revelation exists to remind God’s people that despite appearances, God reigns—and the Lion who is the Lamb has already conquered through his life, death, resurrection, and ascension.

Because of that, God’s people can press on. They can remain faithful. They can live with integrity even in hardship.

That is the heart of Revelation.

When read this way, Revelation becomes not a book of fear, but a book of hope—a reminder that God is faithful, Christ has won, and perseverance is possible.

As we begin this journey together, what has shaped the way you’ve understood—or avoided—the book of Revelation up to now?

Year in books for 2025

Wed, 31 Dec 2025 16:58:06 -0400

Here are the books I finished reading in 2025.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Devoted

Sun, 28 Dec 2025 16:09:39 -0400

For the full sermon audio message click here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Devoted

We have come to the end of Paul’s letter to the Colossians. Over these weeks, we’ve walked carefully through this small but theologically rich book, and now we arrive at its final exhortation. Today, our focus is Colossians 4:2–6. Beginning in verse 7, Paul turns to personal greetings, material we touched on in our introductory message, so here, at the close, we attend to the heart of his final instruction.

Paul writes:

“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”
(Colossians 4:2–6)

A Life Hidden with Christ

From the very beginning, we said that the heart of Colossians is this vision of a life hidden with Christ. The church in Colossae was facing pressure from outside teachers, voices insisting that fullness with God required rule-keeping, special knowledge, or spiritual techniques. Paul responds decisively: life with God is not found in striving or spectacle, but in Christ himself.

To live hidden with Christ means setting our minds on things above. It means putting to death what belongs to our old way of life and putting on compassion, kindness, humility, and love. Our lives are meant to look different—not because we are superior, but because we belong to Jesus.

So it is striking that as Paul brings this letter to a close, after casting such a beautiful vision of the Christian life, he begins here:

“Devote yourselves to prayer.”

Prayer as the Air We Breathe

For Paul, a life hidden with Christ begins—and continues—with prayer.

To be devoted to prayer is not to master a technique or recite the right words. It is a posture of constancy, attentiveness, and perseverance. Paul envisions prayer as something ongoing, something woven into the fabric of everyday life, like the air we breathe or the water in which we swim.

So often, we treat prayer as a spiritual specialty. Some people are “prayer warriors,” while the rest of us quietly assume prayer just isn’t our gift. We imagine prayer requires the right posture, the right words, or the right intensity. But Paul makes no such distinctions.

Prayer is not magic. It is not reserved for experts. There is no “correct” posture, volume, or formula. You can pray out loud or silently, on your knees or lying in bed. If you fall asleep while praying, God is not offended, rest, too, is a gift.

Paul’s call is simple and profound: be devoted to prayer. Let it be natural. Let it be ordinary. Let it be constant.

Watchful and Thankful

Paul pairs devotion to prayer with watchfulness and gratitude. Prayer, more than anything else, teaches us to pay attention.

When we are devoted to prayer, we begin to notice people. We become more present, more attentive, more aware of the needs and stories unfolding around us. It’s not that opportunities suddenly appear out of nowhere, it’s that we finally see them.

I’ve noticed this in my own life. During seasons when prayer shapes my days, brief prayers while driving, walking, or pausing, people seem more likely to say, “Can you pray for me?” It’s not because the world suddenly changes. It’s because prayer changes me. I make eye contact. I listen. I notice.

There’s a story I love that captures this perfectly. Years ago, friends of ours in Bloomington-Normal felt called to serve international students at Illinois State University. Yet they were convinced none existed, despite living there for forty years. Their ministry coach encouraged them to pray simply that God would help them see.

They did, and suddenly international students were everywhere. Entire residence halls. Hundreds of faces they had never noticed before.

Prayer had opened their eyes.

And that watchfulness naturally led to gratitude. They were overwhelmed with thankfulness for the people God had placed right in front of them all along.

Prayer That Sends Us Out

Paul then asks the Colossians to pray—not just for themselves, but for those proclaiming the gospel:

“Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should.”

This is a good and necessary reminder. We pray for missionaries. We pray for pastors. We pray for one another, that the mystery of Christ would be spoken clearly and faithfully.

But prayer does not stop there.

When prayer becomes the air we breathe, it shapes the way we live among others. As a friend of mine often says, “Before you talk to people about God, talk to God about people.”

That posture leads directly into Paul’s words in verses 5 and 6.

Conversations Full of Grace

Paul calls us to wisdom, intentionality, and grace toward those outside the faith:

“Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt.”

Grace means meeting people where they are, not demanding they change before they belong. It means showing up in their lives without conditions or strings attached. This is how God has always worked.

God wanted to save humanity, so God became human. In Christ, God entered our world, walked alongside us, and loved us with compassion and truth. Jesus knew how to answer people because he knew how to see them.

We are called to live the same way.

Transformation does not happen through arguments or logic alone. Change happens through the work of the Holy Spirit. Our role is not to coerce belief, but to create spaces of belonging, places where people are welcomed, loved, and seen.

We do not believe and then belong.
We belong, and then belief grows.

Seasoned with Salt

Salt, used well, does not overpower. It brings out what is already there. It enhances flavor.

This is what grace does. Followers of Jesus should bring out the best in the people around them. Our presence should help others become more fully themselves—not trapped, preserved, or boxed in, but freed to grow.

Too much salt preserves things exactly as they are. Grace, rightly lived, invites growth.

So we must ask ourselves: Are our lives bringing out the best in others? Are we creating communities where people can belong, grow, and encounter love without conditions?

A People in Process

Paul ends Colossians reminding us that this life, hidden with Christ, is not about arrival, but about formation. Even Paul says he has not yet arrived. We are all in process, being shaped by grace.

That is why we return again and again to Scripture. That is why we pray. That is why we keep taking the next small step.

If we leave Colossians with one tangible invitation, it is this:

Be a people devoted to prayer.
Let prayer be the air you breathe.
Let grace shape your conversations.
Let your life, hidden with Christ, be good news to the world.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,
We thank you for your grace, your mercy, and your love revealed in Jesus. Thank you that we are invited into your presence through prayer, freely and fully. Shape us into a people who are watchful, thankful, and gracious. May our lives proclaim the mystery of Christ clearly, not just in our words, but in the way we love.
Amen.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Grounded

Mon, 22 Dec 2025 09:28:01 -0400

Note: This text based post is very much a summary. To hear my full exposition, grab a couple cups of coffee and listen to here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Grounded

As we turn to this passage in Colossians, we are coming down from some of the highest Christology and richest theology in the letter. Paul has been painting a sweeping vision of who Christ is and what it means for our lives to be “hidden with Christ.” Last week we ended with this summary statement:

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Col. 3:17)

That verse naturally raises a question: What does that actually look like in real life? How does this grand theology land in the ordinary places where we live every day?

Paul’s answer is surprisingly concrete. He takes this vision and applies it to the most intimate setting of daily life: the household.

For some readers—ancient and modern alike—this is where the tension begins.

A Difficult Passage, Then and Now

Colossians 3:18–4:1 is one of those passages that makes pastors sweat a little. It raises questions. It frustrates modern readers. And my answers, at times, may feel unsatisfying.

But that discomfort is important.

These verses must be read in context, both literary and historical. They come at the end of everything Paul has already said about identity in Christ, about dying and rising with Jesus, about putting on a new way of life. And they were written by a real person, living in a particular time and place, addressing real social structures that existed in the first-century world.

Just as importantly, this passage was not easy for Paul’s original audience either. It was challenging, subversive, and unsettling—but in different ways than it is for us.

With that in mind, let’s turn to the text.

The Text: Colossians 3:18–4:1

Paul addresses three pairs within the household:

Wives and husbands
Children and fathers
Slaves and masters

These are often called household codes, a common form of moral instruction in the Greco-Roman world. Philosophers frequently wrote about how households should function, because the household was seen as the foundation of society.

But Paul’s version is doing something very different.

Wives and Husbands: Love That Subverts Power

Paul begins:

“Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.”

Let’s start with husbands.

The word Paul uses for “love” is agapē—a self-sacrificial, others-first love. This was radical in the Roman world. As far as we know, no secular household code from this period ever commanded husbands to love their wives this way.

Roman husbands were expected to control their households, not sacrifice themselves for them.

Paul turns that expectation upside down. Christian husbands are called to put their wives’ needs above their own, to love with gentleness rather than harshness. This reframes authority entirely. Strength is no longer expressed through domination, but through self-giving love.

Then Paul turns to wives and uses the word submit. That word understandably causes discomfort for modern readers, often because we associate submission with passivity, coercion, or abuse.

But the Greek word (hypotassō) does not mean blind obedience. It carries the sense of voluntarily offering oneself, of giving appropriate respect. Notice that Paul says, “submit yourselves.” This assumes agency.

Read in the context of the couplet, the picture becomes clearer. Wives are called to come alongside husbands who are already committed to loving them sacrificially. This is not a call to endure abuse or domination. It is a vision of mutual devotion shaped by Christ.

In Ephesians, Paul makes this explicit by calling believers to “submit to one another.” Christian marriage, in Paul’s vision, is not about hierarchy—it is about shared life under Christ.

Children and Fathers: Authority Without Discouragement

Next, Paul addresses children and fathers:

“Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord. Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.”

Here Paul uses a different word—obey—rather than submit. Children are called to obedience, rooted in their relationship to Christ.

But notice how Paul addresses fathers. In the Roman world, fathers had nearly absolute authority. Children were often treated as economic assets rather than as people to be nurtured.

Paul pushes back against that. Fathers are warned not to crush their children’s spirits, not to provoke discouragement. He is calling fathers to emotional care, gentleness, and attentiveness—another deeply subversive move.

In our culture, fathers are often portrayed as either buffoons or tyrants. Paul offers a better vision: fathers as steady, loving presences who give their hearts to their children and reflect the love of Christ.

Slaves and Masters: Subversion from Within

Finally, Paul addresses slaves and masters—a section that may trouble modern readers the most.

Paul does not explicitly call for the abolition of slavery here, and that can feel deeply frustrating. But we must remember the historical context. Slavery was an unquestioned economic reality of the first-century world. For Paul to denounce it outright would not have been heard as prophetic, it would have been dismissed as incoherent.

Instead, Paul undermines the institution from within.

He tells slaves that their ultimate master is Christ, that their work has dignity and meaning beyond their circumstances, and, astonishingly, that they will receive an inheritance from the Lord. In Roman society, slaves never received inheritances. Paul gives hope where none existed.

Then he turns to masters and says something extraordinary:

“Provide your slaves with what is right and fair, because you know that you also have a Master in heaven.”

In other words: you are not as powerful as you think. Before Christ, masters are no more than slaves themselves.

Paul levels the ground beneath everyone’s feet.

The Bigger Picture: Lives Hidden with Christ

Throughout this passage, Paul is not endorsing oppressive systems. He is reshaping relationships by placing Christ at the center.

Whether in marriage, parenting, or economic life, the guiding question remains the same:

Are we living as people whose lives are hidden with Christ?

For those with power, that means self-sacrificial love.
For those without power, it means faithful witness and trust in the Lord who sees and rewards.

Paul grounds the gospel in the most personal places of life, reminding us that following Jesus is not abstract—it is deeply relational.

A Question for Reflection

So here is the challenge Paul leaves us with:

Am I loving my spouse as though I am loving Christ?
Am I parenting, or honoring my parents, as though I am serving Christ?
Am I working, leading, or following as though my true master is Jesus?

In everything, in word or deed, are we doing it in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him?

That is the vision Paul sets before us.

And it is still challenging us today.

Advent and the Sign of Compassionate Grace

Sun, 21 Dec 2025 11:00:00 -0400

Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, “Ask the LORD your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.”

But Ahaz said, “I will not ask; I will not put the LORD to the test.”

Then Isaiah said, “Hear now, you house of David! Is it not enough to try the patience of humans? Will you try the patience of my God also? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel. He will be eating curds and honey when he knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, for before the boy knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, the land of the two kings you dread will be laid waste.”

— Isaiah 7:10–16, NIV

Sometimes these readings are strange. Sometimes readings from the Revised Common Lectionary are interesting precisely because they force us to read the broader context of famous lines we often take out of context.

This is one of those readings.

Isaiah 7 is a fascinating chapter. Ahaz is the grandson of Uzziah (the king who died in the year Isaiah was called as a prophet). During Ahaz’s reign in Judah, two other kings are laying siege to the city. Both the people and the king are afraid. At the beginning of chapter 7, God tells Isaiah what to say to Ahaz in order to encourage him in the face of that fear.

Then we arrive at this passage and an unusual command from God: “Ask for a sign.”

Could you imagine?

God commands Ahaz to ask for a sign. In grace, God offers Ahaz this kindness. It is as if God is saying, “I know you’re scared. I get it. Those two armies are no joke. I want you to know that I have you. I will protect you. You don’t need to be afraid. Ask for a sign, anything. I will prove that I will take care of you.”

Ahaz, in what appears to be a form of false piety, replies, “No thanks. I will not put the LORD to the test.”

Isaiah is exasperated. He has heard enough. I have to imagine he has been hearing plenty of, “Where is your God now, Isaiah? Why isn’t God showing up to protect us?” So God compassionately and graciously offers to provide a sign “in the deepest depths or the highest heights,” and Ahaz responds with a dismissive, “No.”

As a result, we receive the prophecy about the “virgin” (some manuscripts read young woman) conceiving and bearing a son who will be called Immanuel, God with us. The early church embraced this as a prophecy about Jesus. The early Judean followers of Christ searched the Scriptures (what modern Christians call the Old Testament) for signs and patterns that pointed to him. They developed a hermeneutic shaped by reading Israel’s Scriptures through the lens of the resurrected Christ.

What strikes me, however, is not the prophecy itself.

What strikes me is how unimpressed God is with false piety.

God does not desire a performative or artificial faith. God desires a real faith, even a faith that needs signs. Even a faith that struggles. Even a faith that wavers.

This, I think, is at the heart of what it means to proclaim Immanuel, God with us. Too often we think of this merely in terms of proximity. But it is more than that. God is with us in our doubt and in our struggle to believe. God is with us in our fear, our worry, and our anxiety. In the midst of it all, God deals with us in compassionate grace.

The question I wrestle with is this: Will I receive it?
Will I receive the sign that is offered, or will I reject God’s compassionate grace for the sake of a false piety?

Lives Hidden With Christ - Yielded

Mon, 15 Dec 2025 14:35:25 -0400

For the full audio of this message you can listen here, Lives Hidden with Christ - Yielded

This passage from Colossians 3:15-17 is a powerful call to radical Christian living. It challenges us to measure the gap between the ideal of following Jesus and the reality of our daily lives.

Let’s dive into these verses and the three core challenges they present for every believer.

Colossians 3:15-17 (NIV)

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you are called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly, as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

2. Let the Message Dwell: The Challenge of Joyful Worship

The second instruction is a communal one: “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly, as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom…”

The message of Christ—the Gospel—must live deeply among us, becoming the constant story, the shared language we use to encourage one another. When the message of Christ dwells in us richly, we are constantly reminded that we are the reconciled, redeemed people who have received overwhelming forgiveness, grace, and mercy.

The Overflow of the Gospel

What is the outward sign of this message dwelling richly? Joy and Worship.

“…through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.”

This suggests an overflow of the heart so profound that it turns into music. We are meant to be a people whose existence is not dour or miserable, but one where joy springs from the core of our being. We are to be **“walking musicals,”**radiating an authentic happiness that reflects our deep awareness of Christ’s grace.

🎯 Challenge #2: Cultivate Joy

While you may not literally be the “singy type,” the question remains:

Do you experience a deep, welling joy that stems from the grace you have received?
Do you laugh easily? Are you able to look on the bright side of life and find things to be thankful for?

This inner joy is the evidence that the message of Christ is truly resonating within you. It is the fuel that helps us enter into conflict and maintain peace (Challenge #1).

3. Do It All in His Name: The Challenge of Integrity

Finally, Paul gives the encompassing command for all of life: “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

This is the great unifier. The following of Jesus is not just one part of our lives; it is all of life.

All of Life is Sacred

We often try to separate the “sacred” (church, prayer, Bible study) from the “secular” (work, traffic, hobbies). Paul eradicates this distinction. It is all sacred.

Your job as a teacher, a vet, or working at a fast-food restaurant is sacred work.
Sitting in traffic is sacred time.
Eating a meal is an opportunity to thank God and do so to the glory of Christ.

The Integrity Test

This command provides a brilliantly simple test for ethical decision-making:

Can I do this thing for the glory of Christ?

If you are wrestling with a decision or an action (X), ask yourself: “Can I do X with a clear conscience, for the glory of Christ?”

If the answer is Yes, then proceed.
If the answer is a simple No, then it is an easy non-starter.

🎯 Challenge #3: Live with Integrity

Are you doing all things, in word and deed, in the name of Jesus?
Do you have integrity? Is the “church you” on Sunday the same as the “random Thursday at 9:00 AM you?”

To live all in the name of Jesus means living without compartmentalization—it means living a life of radical, Christ-centered integrity.

Your Next Steps

The challenges in Colossians 3:15-17 are demanding, but they are the path to a powerful, unified, and joyful life in Christ. This week, choose one of these three challenges to wrestle with:

Peacemaking: Will you enter into a conflict to pursue reconciliation?
Joy: Will you intentionally cultivate gratitude and let the Gospel overflow?
Integrity: Will you commit to doing all of your life—word and deed—to the glory of Christ?

Until Joy Overtakes Us - Being the Answer to "Your Kingdom Come"

Mon, 15 Dec 2025 14:16:47 -0400

The end of last week got away from me, and so, I didn’t write up this reflection on time. I truly intend for these reflections to go out each Sunday, but sometimes I fall short.

The passage for this third week of Advent is from Isaiah:

The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the LORD, the splendor of our God. Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.” Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow. And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; it will be for those who walk on that Way. The unclean will not journey on it; wicked fools will not go about on it. No lion will be there, nor any ravenous beast; they will not be found there. But only the redeemed will walk there, and those the LORD has rescued will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away. - Isaiah 35:1-10

As I read this, I cannot help but think of the two tragedies that occurred over the weekend. One in the United States and the other on a beach in Australia.

At Brown University, a man opened fire on campus, killing at least two students and leaving many injured. The shooter is still at large.
In Australia, a father and son opened fire at a Hanukkah gathering on Bondi Beach. They killed at least fifteen people, including a ten-year-old girl and a Holocaust survivor who shielded his wife with his own body.

Sorrow and sighing are fully in our midst.

The world we find ourselves in is brutal, filled with heartache and pain. There seems to be a “ravenous beast” behind every corner. I deeply long for the day when gladness and joy will overtake us.

As we look around this broken world, saturated in pain and grief, what are we to do?

The Hope of the Gospel

For me, I return again and again to the hope we see in this passage: that someday there will be a time when gladness and joy completely replace sorrow and sighing.

We glimpsed this hope in the first coming of Christ. It was a foretaste of what we will one day experience forever. In that first coming, there was healing, there was joy, and yet grief and pain remained. What we saw was merely the trailer for the main attraction. Someday, Emmanuel will come and stay among us for eternity.

This is the great mystery and beauty of the gospel story. It is not about us being whisked away to heaven. No, it is about us longingly hoping for the day when Christ comes to be with us forever. This is the hope of the gospel: that someday the kingdom of God will truly be on Earth as it is in heaven. So, we hope and wait with expectation.

This hope is something that we must fight for every single day. It is a hope rooted in an expectation built upon the resurrection.

Our Charge

Until that day, we are to be the answer to the prayer, “Your kingdom come…”

Who will be the ones to wipe away tears? We must.
Who are the ones pursuing justice and righteousness? We must.
Who are the ones to tell the fearful, “Be strong and be courageous”? We must!

We are called to be the people who demonstrate the joy rooted in the hope of the coming Christ.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Put on Love

Sun, 07 Dec 2025 15:31:23 -0400

You can listen to this message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Put on Love

Colossians 3:5–14 is a passage overflowing with challenge, hope, and vision for what it means to live as renewed people in Christ.

Paul writes:

“Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all and is in all. Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” Colossians 3:5-14, NIV

There is enough in this passage to preach on for months. But today I want to focus on what I believe is the heart of the whole section: verse 14 — “Over all these virtues put on love.”

Love is not just one virtue among many. It is the virtue that holds all the others together. It is the defining mark of people whose lives are “hidden with Christ” (v. 3), people who have been transferred from the dominion of darkness into the kingdom of the beloved Son.

Paul’s question is essentially this:
What does a renewed life look like?
His answer: love—love expressed, embodied, practiced.

So how do we put on this love?

2. We Bear With One Another

If forgiveness seems hard, “bearing with one another” might feel even harder.

Bearing with others means choosing to stay in community with people who annoy, frustrate, or exhaust us. We all have a “Bill” in our lives—the person we’d rather avoid. Yet Paul says love chooses to bear up, to stay present, to walk alongside.

And bearing with one another gives us plenty of opportunities to practice forgiveness.

This is what love looks like in real life.

3. We Clothe Ourselves Daily in Christlike Virtues

Paul then writes:

“As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”

These are not traits we put on once and forget. We “get dressed” in them every day. Just as we change out of our pajamas each morning, we intentionally choose compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.

If you notice a lack of these qualities in your life, the deeper question is not “How do I try harder?” but “Do I know—deeply know—that I am loved?”

My mom, who taught for more than thirty years, used to say that the kindest students were always those who knew they were loved at home. Loved children could be patient, gentle, and kind. Those who felt unloved or unseen often acted out simply to be noticed. But when a teacher loved them well, something transformed.

The same is true for us. When we are grounded in God’s love, these virtues begin to overflow.

4. We Put to Death the Old Self

Before clothing ourselves with these virtues, Paul tells us to take off the old self:

sexual immorality
impurity
lust
evil desires
greed (and the whole list, he says, is a form of idolatry)

Idolatry at its core is worshiping self—placing our desires at the center. These behaviors grow out of forgetting who we are and where our life is found: hidden with Christ in God.

Paul then names the destructive communal behaviors that flow from the same root: anger, rage, malice, slander, filthy language, lying.

These too must be “put to death.” Not in the sense of a sudden moment of divine fury—Paul is not describing God losing His temper like a frustrated parent—but in the sense of consequences experienced here and now. When we center ourselves instead of Christ, our actions bear bitter fruit.

5. We Recognize That the Gospel Is for Everyone

In the middle of this passage Paul suddenly writes:

“Here there is no Gentile or Jew… barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all and is in all.”

Why insert this here?

Because the gospel reshapes everything—not just our personal morality, but our understanding of humanity itself. Paul deliberately includes every category he can think of: ethnic, religious, socioeconomic, cultural.

Even the barbarians and Scythians—the people the ancient world feared and distrusted.

Which leads to a question for us:

Who are our Scythians?
Who do we see as too far gone, too strange, too frightening, too “other”?

Love compels us to see every person as made in the image of God, every person as someone for whom Christ died.

Love Brings the Kingdom Near

If we put on love—truly put it on—we become the living answer to the prayer we pray each week:

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

The kingdom is not something we merely wait for. It is something we bring into the world as we love, forgive, bear with, and bless.

A Final Question for Reflection

So here is the challenge:

Do you know—at the core of your being—that you are loved without condition by your Father in heaven?

Not “Do you believe it intellectually?”
but “Do you know it in your bones?”

Because when you know you are loved:

forgiveness becomes natural,
gentleness becomes possible,
compassion becomes instinctive,
patience becomes your posture,
and love becomes who you are.

May we be a people who live from that deep, transforming knowledge of God’s love.

Amen.

Advent Reflections - Justice, Hope, and Becoming Like Christ

Sun, 07 Dec 2025 11:00:00 -0400

I think one of my enduring memories of Advent as a child is the Advent calendar. I don’t recall us using one very often, but I distinctly remember them being in our house. So many Advent calendars had little chocolates or other treats behind each door. I also remember the Christmas countdown rings—red and green paper strips linked into a chain, with one link removed each day leading up to Christmas. The goal was Christmas morning and getting to open presents.

Yes, Christmas was Jesus’ birthday, but it was also about the presents! It was about waking up and seeing that Santa Claus had arrived. I loved (and still do) opening the stockings hung by the chimney with care. Seeing the presents under the tree was always a thrill. It was just so fun.

I think Christmas ought to be fun! It is a celebration of the coming of Christ. But I am also growing to see the role that Advent plays. It’s a time to remind us that Christ did not come simply to give us gifts. While his story culminated in the resurrection, that was not all he came to accomplish.

As I ponder and read the Advent readings this year, I am deeply struck by what the prophets proclaimed and how their words point to Christ. Consider this week’s reading from Isaiah 11:1–9:

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
The spirit of the LORD shall rest on him,
the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the spirit of counsel and might,
the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.
His delight shall be in the fear of the LORD.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide by what his ears hear;
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;
he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,
and faithfulness the belt around his loins.
The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze,
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain;
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD
as the waters cover the sea.
— Isaiah 11:1–9, NRSV

This is one of those passages filled with imagery we can hold onto—the “wolf shall live with the lamb” and the like. Yet that’s not what stood out to me this time.

Did you catch that line in the middle?

“He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth.”

I have to confess, I don’t think I’ve ever really noticed those verses before.

There is something important here we need to grasp. In the ancient world, judgments were often shaped by prejudice. A person’s appearance or speech could determine whether they received justice—and this was especially true for the poor.

Can you imagine living in a culture where you’re judged by your appearance or how you speak?

Oh wait.

It turns out people haven’t changed much over the millennia. As much as things change, they stay the same.

In both 1 Corinthians and James, partiality—giving certain people preferential treatment—was a significant problem. Paul and James both had to address it. The early church was not immune to the struggles common to all humanity.

Christ, to whom the early church applied this passage from Isaiah 11, was one who judged with righteousness. He did not judge by outward appearances. Righteousness in Christ is a standard not rooted in partiality but flowing from his very being.

It stands to reason that the Church is to embody this ethic. To be found in Christ is to live like him. Christ did not come simply to offer hope of a future heaven. No—he was ushering in the Kingdom of God here and now. This means that, of all people, those who claim to follow him are to pursue justice and righteousness in spite of outward appearances or social standing.

Advent is the season when we are called to remember. We remember the hope of Christ—and not just the hope, but the promise of justice.

Advent is a time of reflection. I need to wrestle with how I am practicing these values. How am I caught up in my own prejudices and partialities? Who am I willing to deny justice because of something external?

Advent isn’t really about little chocolates or a countdown to Santa Claus. It is a season to remember and reflect, to grow in the hope that we will become more like Christ as we prepare for his coming.

Tap Room Tuesdays Donations

Wed, 03 Dec 2025 12:48:37 -0400

Each year the community that we call, Tap Room Tuesdays picks a local organization to support at the end of the year. This year, we are gathering donations for the Brick Elementary Food Pantry and the Lincoln Clothes Closet. If you would like to donate anything to the cause, you can drop things off on our porch until December 16 or you can order from Amazon and ship them to me: Amazon List

Here are the items that we are collecting:

Needs for the Brick Food Pantry:

Hygiene products - body washes, deodorant, tooth brushes, toothpaste, shampoo/conditioner, unscented lotions.
Hair oil: Blue Magic (can be found at Walmart, Meijer, etc.) and a brand called Isoplus Oil Sheen Spray.
Cleaning products of any kind - Clorox wipes, bathroom cleaning supplies, dish soap.
Baby products: Diapers, wipes, baby food in jars or pouches, and baby cereal. Needs for the

Lincoln Clothing Closet:

Underwear (NEW)
Socks (NEW)
Bras (NEW) The needs are for all ages from babies to grandparents!

Advent Begins - A Season of Longing

Sun, 30 Nov 2025 13:45:21 -0400

Advent begins today.

Advent is a season of waiting, hoping, and trusting. We wait again for the coming of Christ. We hope that in Christ’s coming all things will be made new. We trust that faith will one day become sight.

Each year we return to particular passages to ponder in light of this season of hopeful waiting. This year is no different. We will reflect and hope and pray.

As I grow older, I’m finding something new stirring in my soul. When I was younger, Advent brought a sense of excitement. It was a spiritual challenge to imagine—again and again—what it might feel like if Christ had not yet come. The philosopher Peter Rollins practices something he calls Atheism for Lent, and for a time I tried to take on a similar mindset during Advent.

But now something new has sprouted in me. The only word I have for it is longing.

Longing for Peace

The Old Testament reading today is Isaiah 2:1–5. It’s a well-known passage—the one about beating swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks:

This is what Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem:

“In the last days
the mountain of the LORD’s temple will be established
as the highest of the mountains;
it will be exalted above the hills,
and all nations will stream to it.

Many peoples will come and say,
‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,
to the temple of the God of Jacob.
He will teach us his ways,
so that we may walk in his paths.’

The law will go out from Zion,
the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
He will judge between the nations
and will settle disputes for many peoples.

They will beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore.

Come, descendants of Jacob,
let us walk in the light of the LORD.”
— Isaiah 2:1–5, NIV

As I meditate on this passage, the sense of longing grows within me.

Recently, I’ve found myself weary as I scroll through my social feeds. Day after day I’m bombarded with the awful things happening in the world. And every day it seems that Christians fall short of the name we collectively bear. Yes, many are doing well. The congregations I serve are filled with people who love well. Are we imperfect? Of course. But on the whole, I am deeply encouraged by how well we love.

Yet day after day I am confronted by others who do not love well. Many who bear the name “Christian” seem consumed with longing for power and control—things thoroughly antithetical to the way of Jesus.

It seems that fear has become the currency many Christians trade in. This fear is nothing new; it has fueled Christian anxiety for decades. Somehow, we have lost the spiritual awareness that in Christ we are more than conquerors, and that at the center of who he is we find sacrificial love.

Too often we confuse sacrificial love with weakness. But there is no weakness in the meek Christ. To love as Christ loves—sacrificially—is to draw from a strength rooted in eternity. When we give ourselves over to fear, we move away from the love found in Christ. Fear is the old way. Love is the new way.

I am confident that love is strong because of its effect.

The Effect of God’s Love: Peace

Read Isaiah’s passage again.

The people come to the mountain of the Lord—and what is the result?

Peace.

But what do you think of when you imagine “peace”? Do you picture quiet? Or do you think in terms of justice?

The peace described here is the latter. Notice that Isaiah says the Lord will “judge.” This judgment is not the petty kind found in middle-school hallways. It is the judgment that brings justice by settling disputes. And when justice is established, nations stop taking up swords against one another.

The effect of God’s love is justice through righteous judgment—justice that produces peace. And this peace is not just individual; it is global.

I long for this peace.

Living as Peacemakers

So what do I do? It seems to me that I must seek to practice this peacemaking in my own life. This means:

Intentionally setting aside fear and embracing love.
Seeking to understand what justice looks like in any particular situation.
Judging in accordance with justice.
Acting on that judgment through sacrificial love in order to make peace.

During this Advent season, I am praying that this longing inside me moves me to action.

Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5, Psalm 122, Romans 13:11-14, Matthew 24:36-44

Lives Hidden With Christ

Mon, 24 Nov 2025 12:18:40 -0400

You can listen to the full audio of the sermon here: Lives Hidden With Christ I have a confession to make: I am not a details guy. Details and I don’t always get along. I’m more of a “big picture” person—an idea guy. When I plan my preaching calendar, I don’t sit down with a spreadsheet and map out every Sunday months in advance. I usually wrestle with God, asking, “Where are you leading us next?”

Sometimes, this lack of planning gets me into trouble. But occasionally, by the grace (or sovereignty) of God, I stumble into the perfect passage for the perfect moment.

That happened with Colossians 3:1-4. It aligns perfectly with Christ the King Sunday—the day the church historically remembers that Christ is the one who reigns, and we bow our knees to no one but Him.

Paul’s words in Colossians 3 shift from the defensive arguments of chapter 2 (what not to do) to a positive vision of the Christian life. He writes:

“Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” — Colossians 3:1-4

These four verses are pregnant with meaning. They tell us who we are, how we should think, and how we should live.

The “Already But Not Yet” Reality

Paul begins with a bold statement: “Since then, you have been raised with Christ.”

For the logical thinkers among us, this might sound confusing. You might be thinking, “I haven’t died yet. I’m sitting right here. The world is a mess. How can I be raised?”

Theologians call this being positionally raised. It is a reality that is already true, even if we have not yet experienced the full results.

Think of World War II. There was V-E Day (Victory in Europe) and V-J Day (Victory in Japan). Victory was declared. The war was technically over. Yet, fighting continued in pockets. Following that, we had the Cold War, Korea, and Vietnam—conflicts that were essentially aftershocks of the World War.

Victory had been achieved, but peace had not yet been fully realized.

This is our spiritual reality. The moment Christ was raised on Easter, death was defeated. The moment you trusted Christ, you were raised with Him. That is your position. However, we still live in the “fighting”—the struggle of a fallen world. We must constantly remind ourselves of our positional victory because, frankly, most of us live in fear as if death still wins. But Paul reminds us: It is a finished work.

Setting Your Heart

Because of this reality, Paul commands us to “set your hearts on things above.”

The “heart” here represents our deepest longings, passions, and desires. What captures you?

I remember being in my early 20s, working on staff with a campus ministry. I was a massive sports fan. My mood depended entirely on whether my team won or lost. I broke off friendships and got into heated arguments over sports rivalries. Later, I realized how trivial that was, so I swapped sports for politics. I started doing the exact same thing—destroying relationships over political platforms.

I had to learn the hard way that politics and sports are “earthly things.” They are temporal.

To set our hearts on things above means aligning our passions with God’s heart: His vision for justice, grace, mercy, and compassion. When our hearts are captured by the things that matter to Jesus, we transcend the petty bickering of the world. We stop seeing things as black and white dualities and start asking deeper questions: How can we see people reconciled? How can we love the least of these?

Setting Your Mind

Paul continues: “Set your minds on things above.” This speaks to our intellect and our strategy.

Growing up, I wanted to be the smartest guy in the room. Later, in ministry, my intellect became obsessed with strategy. How do we grow this? What are the numbers? Let’s copy what the successful people are doing.

Strategy is easy. You can build a massive organization just by copying what is popular in the culture—mimicking concert venues or TED talks. But that is earthly thinking.

When our minds catch up to hearts that are set on Christ, something changes. We stop asking “what works” and start asking “what honors Jesus?” We wrestle with how to implement grace and mercy in a way that is intellectually robust but spiritually faithful.

Hidden with Christ

Paul concludes with a beautiful phrase: “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”

If you want to know who you are, look at Jesus. Your life is hidden in His. This means that when the world looks at us, they should get a glimpse of Christ.

The Fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—is always counter-cultural. There has never been an era in history where these traits were the default human setting. They are distinct. They are different.

When we live this way, people get confused. They wonder why we have peace in chaos or why we offer forgiveness when we’ve been wronged.

There is a famous story about Martin Luther. His parishioners asked him, “Why do you keep preaching the gospel to us week after week? We know it. We’re ready to move on.”

Luther replied, “I will stop preaching the gospel when you start looking like a people who believe it.”

A Challenge for the Week

The world is constantly trying to undo the work of the Spirit in your life. It tries to replace peace with anxiety and love with division. The only way to push back is to remind yourself, again and again, of who you are.

You have been raised with Christ.

This week, do a little introspection.

Where is your heart? Is it captured by lesser things, or is it set on the heart of God?
Where is your mind? Is it consumed by earthly worries, or is it focused on the things above?

Start small. Take five minutes in the morning. Read a few verses of the Psalms or the Gospels. Pray the Lord’s Prayer. Intentionally set your compass to “things above” before the world pulls you down.

Your life is hidden with Christ. Let’s live like it.

Lives Hidden with Christ - Appearance

Sun, 16 Nov 2025 16:41:31 -0400

You can listen to the full audio of the message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Appearance

How do you really know that you are walking with Jesus? How do you know that you are truly saved and following the narrow path? This is a hard, essential question.

For many of us, the answer we grew up with was a list of rules—explicit or implied. Don’t dance, don’t drink, don’t chew, and definitely don’t associate with those who do. We internalize these boundaries, believing that obedience to the rules equals authentic Christianity.

My father-in-law often tells a story about a preacher who made him feel that everything he enjoyed—playing cards, having an occasional drink, even slipping up and saying a bad word—was a sin. The message was clear: if you were having any fun, you couldn’t be a true Christian.

We crave assurance. We want to know that we are following Christ’s way, and to get that feeling of security, we create rules.

Paul’s Argument Against the Rules

The Apostle Paul spoke directly against this impulse in his letter to the church at Colossae. Some people were telling the Colossians, who were new in their faith, that to have a “full” relationship with God, they had to follow a specific set of man-made regulations: worship in a certain way, acknowledge certain days, and submit to harsh disciplines.

Paul’s response is a powerful corrective. Let’s look at Colossians 2:20-23 (NIV):

“Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules: ‘Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!’? These rules, which have to do with things that are all destined to perish with use, are based on merely human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence.”

Understanding “Elemental”

Paul uses the term “elemental spiritual forces” (or stoicheia in Greek). Some imagine this refers to mystical forces of nature, but the meaning is far more basic. It’s the same idea as elementary.

Paul is saying, “You have died with Christ to the elementary. You’ve died to the childish, foundational basics.”

It’s the 2+2 and ABCD of life—the things you learned in “kindergarten,” like “Do unto others” and “Be nice.”
These basics are good and make society work, but they are common to all people, regardless of faith.

In Christ, we have transcended the elementary. When Jesus rose from the dead, He conquered and moved past the world’s basic power: death. In following Him, we move beyond the world’s basic moral codes and rules.

The Problem with an “Appearance of Wisdom”

Paul says these self-imposed rules have an “appearance of wisdom.” They look good on the outside. They appear disciplined and righteous, but they are rooted in a false humility and ultimately lack any value.

Why?

1. Rules Often Do the Opposite

Rules can be counterproductive. When I see a sign that says, “Do not throw rocks into the water,” my first instinct is to find the biggest rock or the flattest skipping stone. Rules simply define the boundaries we are tempted to cross. As Paul says elsewhere (Romans), we wouldn’t even know what sin was if it weren’t for the law.

2. Rules Cannot Change the Heart

Imagine a loving relationship where one person hands the other a list of ten rules and says, “If you do these ten things, I’ll know you love me.” Eventually, doing those things rings hollow. Following rules doesn’t change your heart. If you break one, you feel guilt, and the relationship becomes about what I do, not who we are together.

An authentic relationship with God is not rooted in “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!”

The Heart of the Question: How Do I Love?

The only way to move beyond the elementary is to grow in wisdom and discernment. This growth isn’t about getting a more complex set of rules; it’s about answering a deeper, harder question:

How do I love in this particular situation?

Jesus told His disciples, “The world will know you are my disciples because of your love.” He didn’t say, “…because you follow the rules.”

Jesus modeled this love by constantly crossing boundaries:

He hung out with tax collectors and “sinners.”
He befriended prostitutes and gluttons.
He spoke to a Samaritan woman alone at a well—a violation of every cultural and religious rule of the day.

Jesus looked at all the rules that had the appearance of wisdom and He crossed them for the sake of love.

When we rely on rules, we eliminate the difficult question of love. We substitute an easy checklist for the messy, sacrificial work of following Jesus to the places He goes. Rules free us from the harder question of “What does it look like for me to love?” and replace it with “Am I following the rules?”

Reflection: What Are Your Rules?

We have been united with Christ; we have died to the elementary. If we are walking with Him, we must constantly ask, “How do I love in the way that Christ would love?”

My challenge to you this week is to identify your rules.

What are the rules you put on other people? (This is where the real problem starts.)
What are the unwritten “Christian” assumptions you carry?
- A real Christian wouldn’t vote for…
- A real Christian wouldn’t drink…
- A real Christian wouldn’t wear…

Try to identify them, hold them out in front of you, and evaluate them: Do these rules look like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, or self-control?

More often than not, these rules simply allow us to be self-righteous. We become like the older sibling who changes the rules of the game so that they always win. We set up rules for ourselves that we can manage, and then we hold everyone else to them.

The Freedom to Transcend

We have the freedom to jettison anything that is not leading us down the road of sacrificial love.

Rules and laws have an appearance of wisdom, but they are not the foundation of our faith.

What is real is:

The life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ.
The work of the Holy Spirit.
The reality that our lives are hidden with His.

We are called to live lives that demonstrate sacrificial love to a watching world. As Paul says in another letter, against such things—the Fruit of the Spirit—there is no law.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Reality

Tue, 11 Nov 2025 12:47:40 -0400

You can listen to the full audio of this message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Reality How do we know what is real? In an age where digital “baloney” flies about everywhere—from our social media feeds to online articles—discerning truth has become a constant challenge.

We are flooded with fabricated content. You might see a quote from a public figure that perfectly aligns with your preconceived notions, so you automatically believe it. But what about the increasingly popular (and deceptive) trend of manufactured positive stories?

The Problem of Fake Positivity

We often associate “fake news” with the negative, like scandals or misinformation. However, one of the most popular ways websites now generate clicks is by publishing AI-generated articles about famous people performing remarkably good deeds. The articles look legit, they spread like wildfire, and they’re completely untrue.

I saw a perfect example of this recently. During a university football team’s bye week, I saw dozens of people sharing the same story about the head coach and his wife spending millions to start a school for underprivileged kids.

It sounded great, but when I clicked the link, the website was clearly fake, and the article was obviously written by artificial intelligence. The language was overly sentimental and stilted: “The small children upon seeing Coach wept in joy as they knew that they were finally going to be able to…”

It was ridiculous and, sure enough, untrue. What’s truly fascinating is that the exact same story was being attached to scores of athletes and coaches across the country, simply replacing the names. Yet, people shared it with comments like, “This is why I love him!”

We live in a day and age where we have lost our anchor for what is real. Everything seems too good (or too bad) to be true. We are groping for reality.

Finding Reality in Scripture

This is why the phrase that pops off the page in the Apostle Paul’s letter to the church in Colossae is so vital: Reality. Paul is directly challenging the Colossian believers to consider what is truly real.

Let’s look at Colossians 2:16-19 (NIV):

“Therefore, do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ. Do not let anyone who delights in false humility and the worship of angels disqualify you. Such a person also goes into great detail about what they have seen. They are puffed up with idle notions by their unspiritual mind. They have lost connection with the head, from whom the whole body, supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews, grows as God causes it to grow.”

Shadows vs. Reality

The church communities in Colossae and Laodicea were dealing with groups coming in and essentially saying:

“How do you know you’re really worshiping God?”
“Don’t you want to experience the fullness of worship?”
“We have a deeper, clearer understanding of what’s going on because we’ve had experiences, like worshipping alongside angels.”
“We know what’s real through our experiences and rituals.”

These groups were mixing and matching pieces from different spiritualities—food restrictions, religious festivals, and Sabbath-keeping—and presenting it as the path to truth.

Paul’s response is definitive: No, that’s not real.

The Old Testament practices (like festivals and food laws) were given by God to remind the people of what He had done. They were given to set them apart. Paul calls these things shadows. They were temporary symbols that led and pointed us to the ultimate reality: Christ.

Christ has come. We have the reality. We no longer need to worry about the shadows. They were helpful, but what we truly need is Jesus.

Beware of False Humility and Detail

Paul then cautions the believers against those who would disqualify them. He points out a couple of key characteristics of these false teachers:

1. They Delight in False Humility and Angel Worship

These people were claiming special, secret knowledge—like being able to worship with angels—while simultaneously professing, “We don’t know very much; we are just humble servants.” This is a classic move: using self-deprecation to sell spiritual authority.

2. They Go into Great Detail About What They Have Seen

We tend to believe things that are highly detailed. The more specifics, the more true it must be, right?

Not necessarily.

Think about the way we lie: we add as many details as possible to make the story airtight. As a teenager, you knew that the more details you had—the temperature of the A/C, the brand of ketchup, the color of the paper plates—the more believable your story was.

In contrast, when you read the Bible, one of the great frustrations is the lack of enough detail. Why? Because the biblical authors were recording real, overwhelming experiences. They were so “gobsmacked” in the moment that they often missed the minutiae that an outside observer might want. The reality was the event, not the peripheral details.

Paul warns that those who rely on an overload of detail are often simply “puffed up with idle notions by their unspiritual mind.”

Connecting to the Head

The core problem, Paul states, is that they have “lost connection with the head.”

In Colossians, “the head” is Christ. These false teachers are disconnected from the source of all truth, life, and growth.

The body—the church—is “supported and held together by its ligaments and sinews.” When a limb loses connection with the head (like a dislocated knee cap), it stops working correctly. It cannot do what it was meant to do because it is no longer connected to the control center.

Our Challenge: Wrestling with Reality

For us today, we must wrestle with two questions:

Am I being the “earnest man”? Am I displaying a false humility while giving people complicated, detailed claims about how they should have a spiritual experience? Am I “puffed up in idle notions” and leading people away from the simple reality of Christ?
Am I buying into the “hollow and deceptive philosophies”? Am I being taken captive by things that are not Christ? This could be spiritualism, politics, debates over how a church does communion, or what kind of music is played. These are all empty, hollow philosophies if they become the foundation of our faith.

We have to wrestle with our hearts and minds and ask: Are we seeking to be fully and thoroughly and only connected to our Head, who is Christ?

If we are following and trusting Him, our real and true Head, then we will display for the world the ultimate reality: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control.

At the end of the day, what is real is Christ—His life, death, resurrection, and ascension. He is the standard. He is the reality.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Forgiven

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 17:27:17 -0400

For the full audio of this message listen here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Forgiven

Last week, we began our exploration of Colossians chapter 2, specifically verses 9-12, where Paul speaks of a circumcision not done by human hands—Christ removing our sinful nature, or the “old man.” This concept is deeply connected to this week’s passage, verses 13-15, which form one continuous, profound thought.

There is simply too much truth here to unpack all at once, so this week, we focus on the remarkable work of God as Paul writes:

“When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness which stood against us and condemned us. He has taken it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” (Colossians 2:13-15, NIV)

This is the Word of God. Let’s wrestle with what Paul means when he says, “When you were dead.”

The Reality of Spiritual Death

We are breathing, our hearts are beating, and we are, by all appearances, alive. So, what does Paul mean by “dead”?

He means a spiritual death—a profound separation from God due to our sinful nature, or what Paul calls the sarks (flesh). This sinful self is the “old man,” the innate desire within us that leads toward anger, malice, greed, and all the ugliness we hide and manage.

Here’s the critical question: What can a dead person do?

The answer, quite simply, is nothing. Dead people just lie there. They can’t move, can’t make themselves alive, and certainly can’t bring themselves to life.

In the same way, if we are spiritually dead, there is absolutely nothing we can do to fix our separation from God. This leads us to the most remarkable statement in the passage:

“God made you alive with Christ.”

This is the heart of the Gospel. We did not clean ourselves up. We did not make the first move. Christ came to us—while we were still wrapped in our sinful, “uncircumcised flesh”—and made us alive in Him.

We can add nothing to this salvation. We can’t lead ourselves to Christ; Christ comes to us.

The Danger of the Whitewashed Tomb

For those of us who have walked the Christian path for a long time, there is a subtle danger: forgetting where we came from. We can easily slip into thinking, “I’m pretty good now. I go to church, read my Bible, I pray, I avoid ‘sinful’ things.”

When we begin to believe we are responsible for our goodness or our spiritual life, we forget that it was Christ who made us alive. And when we forget this truth, we become judgmental and mean. We become like the whitewashed tombs Jesus described: looking good on the outside, but dead on the inside.

Our goodness is not a result of our effort; it’s a reflection of the overwhelming grace that changed our lives. We must never forget that Christ did it all.

All of Our Sins Forgiven

Paul wants us to grasp the full depth of this grace: “He forgave us all our sins.”

Think about that. When Jesus lived, died, and rose again, all of our sins—past, present, and future—were still ahead of us. Yet, He looked down the corridor of time and said, “It is forgiven. It is done.”

Despite this radical truth, how often do we still freak out over guilt and shame from sins committed years ago, or even yesterday? We struggle to believe Jesus truly forgave all of it.

But Paul says He didn’t just forgive it; He took the written code of legal indebtedness—everything that stood against us and condemned us—and nailed it to the cross.

A Call to Grace

We need to let go of the guilt and shame because all of our sins have been forgiven. And because we have received such great mercy, our call is clear:

Do not shame or guilt others. When we encounter people who don’t yet know this forgiveness, we must point them to grace, mercy, and welcome.
We need the Gospel preached to us daily. We forget the grace given to us, and we need our community of believers to constantly remind us: “Brother/Sister, you are forgiven. You are loved. You are accepted.” The Gospel is not a one-time magic prayer; it’s the daily sustenance for our souls.

A Cosmic Victory: Triumphing by the Cross

The victory of the cross is not just individual; it’s all-encompassing.

Paul says Christ, by the cross, also:

…disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them…

The cross breaks down all systems—cosmic spiritual powers, worldly authorities, and broken structures—that challenge God’s love and grace. It is a reorienting of all things, redeeming and restoring everything that is broken in our world.

The world thought it defeated Jesus by hanging him on a cross. But Christ used that very cross to achieve an ultimate victory, rising from the tomb in power and declaring that death has no hold.

Our Marching Orders

The question for every follower of Jesus is this: How do we take this radical, overwhelming grace and apply it everywhere?

Christ did not wait for us, the spiritually dead, to clean ourselves up. He came and made us alive. He now expects us, as living people, to go out into the world and bring life there too.

This is our witness. This is our work.

Challenge & Prayer

I challenge you with three questions today:

Trust: Have you truly trusted that Christ’s faithfulness has made you alive? Take that good, hard look and settle that truth in your heart.
Reflection: Do you move through the world as one who reflects this amazing, overflowing grace? Or are you a little more like a whitewashed tomb—looking good on the outside, but dead on the inside?
Action: How are you embodying this grace out in the world? How can you use your gifts, skills, and abilities to step in and bring life to the broken places and people around you?

Prayer: Heavenly Father, we thank You for Your grace. We are grateful that You didn’t wait for us, dead people, to become alive, but You went ahead and made us alive in Christ. Help us to be a people who bring this life, this hope, and this overwhelming forgiveness out into the world. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Fullness

Thu, 30 Oct 2025 11:35:38 -0400

For full audio you can listen here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Fullness

I have a simple, yet profound, question for you to consider: What truly fills you up?

What is that activity, experience, or acquisition that leaves you with a deep, satisfying sense of “I am whole, and I am full?”

For many of us, the chase for this sense of satisfaction comes to dominate our lives. We are constantly seeking to fill an inner void—a feeling of emptiness that is, perhaps, innately human.

The Endless Pursuit of “Just One More”

We try to fill this space in all kinds of ways, often chasing after things that offer only a temporary fix:

Family & Relationships: Spending time with loved ones can be deeply fulfilling, but if we rely on it to define our sense of self, the chase can become overwhelming.
Sports Triumphs: The momentary high of your favorite team winning (or your rival losing!) provides a fleeting sense of joy. We watch every minute, hoping for that next rush of fullness.
Escapism: When life feels overwhelming, we might turn to a favorite drink or other escape to temporarily melt away problems and find a sense of contentment.
Materialism & Consumerism: This is the most prevalent “ism” of our age. We are constantly seduced by the idea that if we just get the next thing—a new TV, a better car, a different shirt—we will finally be “good.” It’s the constant siren song of “Just one more.”
Political Victories: We invest our hope in a candidate or a party, believing that their win will set the world right and bring us satisfaction.

The 17th-century mathematician Blaise Pascal called this internal emptiness a “God-shaped hole”—a vacuum in us that we seek to fill with everything other than God.

The Radical Claim of Fullness in Christ

In his letter to the Colossians, the Apostle Paul drops a bombshell that directly confronts this constant chasing. He writes:

“For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority.” (Colossians 2:9-10)

This is a remarkable statement. We can somewhat grasp the idea of Jesus having the fullness of God—after all, he walked on water, fed thousands, and rose from the dead. But Paul has the audacity to say that through Christ, you have been brought to fullness.

If this is true, why do we still feel that internal emptiness? Why are we still chasing?

1. Christ Has the Authority

Paul first establishes Christ’s authority to make this claim: “He is the head over every power and authority.”

Every power we chase—be it consumerism, political victory, or personal success—is ultimately beneath his authority. This means we can yield those compulsions to him. When that “I want, I want, I need, I need” feeling starts to take over, we can turn it over to Christ, the one who is in charge of it all. We can trust him to handle it.

2. The Old Self Has Been Removed

Paul uses a strange, powerful metaphor to drive the point home:

“In him you are also circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands; your whole self ruled by the flesh was put off when you were circumcised by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him…” (Colossians 2:11-12)

The “flesh” here (the Greek word sarks) isn’t just skin and bones; it refers to our natural, sinful, and broken self—the part of us marred by sin. Paul says this old, broken self has been removed. It’s been cut away. You have been transformed in the very core of your being and raised to new life!

Get Busy Living

This truth presents a core choice, which I often see illustrated in the film The Shawshank Redemption.

Brooks: A man institutionalized by decades in prison. When he is finally released, he cannot accept the reality of his freedom. He cannot embrace his new life. Unable to escape the mindset of his “old self,” he tragically takes his own life. He chose death over the pain of living a new life.
Red: A fellow inmate who also gets released. He struggles deeply with his new identity as a free man, feeling the pull of the old self. But then, he remembers the phrase: “Get busy living, or get busy dying.” Red chooses to live. He accepts and receives the reality that his old self is gone and that he has been given a new life. He steps into it.

This is your story, too.

The question you must wrestle with is this: Do you believe that the old, empty, chasing self has been stripped away? Do you believe you have a new identity in Christ, one where you no longer have to chase to fill a hole because in Christ, you have fullness?

Or will you keep chasing after the empty mists that ultimately fail us?

A Question for the Week

Take a good, honest look in the mirror this week and ask yourself:

What am I chasing?
Am I trusting that Christ has filled this hole, or am I still running myself ragged trying to fill it myself?

Like me, you will find this is an ongoing process. We are easily sucked back into the “I want, I want” culture. We must be reminded, over and over: No. That has been taken from me. Christ has given me fullness. I can rest in him and live in a sense of contentment.

If you, like me, find some areas to grow in, confess it to Christ. Find a trusted friend to hold you accountable. Choose to live like Red, not Brooks. Choose to live free, knowing your old self is gone and you have been raised with Christ to a new life of fullness.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Rooted

Sun, 19 Oct 2025 16:02:01 -0400

You can listen to the full audio here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Rooted

We continue our series in Colossians by looking at Colossians 2:6-8:

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in Him, rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world, rather than on Christ.

Here, Paul gets to the heart of why he wrote this letter. The church was wrestling with what he calls “empty philosophies” rooted in “human traditions” and the “elemental spiritual forces of this world”—ideas that were beginning to capture their attention and pull them away from Christ.

Beyond the Basics: Human Tradition vs. Christ’s Way

A key part of this passage is the phrase translated by the NIV as “elemental spiritual forces.” While there’s debate on its exact meaning, I believe the context suggests a translation closer to the “basic principles of this world” or the “elementary principles of this world.”

This fits perfectly when connected to “human traditions.” Paul is essentially saying: Don’t get caught up in empty philosophies of human traditions and the basic, commonsense principles of the world.

The world operates on its own basic foundation—a sort of “one plus one equals two” mentality rooted in traditional ways of human thought. But when we follow Jesus, we move past the basics. We adopt a fundamentally different, upside-down view of the world.

The Basic Principle of “An Eye for an Eye”

To understand what Paul means by moving past the world’s basic principles, consider this story I heard from a missionary whose husband was killed by terrorists.

Days after her husband was murdered, she publicly stated her forgiveness for the terrorists. Years later, while serving in a prison in the same country, she came face-to-face with the man who had killed the father of her four children. What would she do?

A few years after that, her grown son had the opportunity to meet this same murderer. The jailers left the six-foot-four son alone in a small room with the man who killed his father in cold blood.

The elementary principles of this world say “an eye for an eye.” They demand pain, revenge, and justice as the world defines it. But the follower of Jesus is called to a different way.

When this mother came face-to-face with the murderer, she forgave him. When her son met his father’s killer, he forgave him. As the missionary put it, she “walked out of that place as though a giant ball and chain had been left behind.”

This is not human tradition. This is not the world’s basic principle. This is the way of Christ, who, being unjustly crucified, looked out and said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Three Metaphors for a Transformed Life

To be able to forgive that kind of evil requires being rooted, built up, and strengthened in a way that is distinctly Christian—seeing the world through the lens of grace. Paul gives us three powerful metaphors for what this life looks like:

Rooted (Agricultural Metaphor): Your faith is like a plant whose roots have gone deep into the soil, drawing nutrients that allow it to withstand any storm. You are not easily uprooted by the world’s shifting cultural winds or pressures.
Built Up (Architectural Metaphor): Your life is built upon a firm foundation—one that won’t give way under heavy pressure or erosion. Christ is your solid ground; your faith will not shatter.
Strengthened (Legal Metaphor): The Greek word here suggests being validated or confirmed, like a contract that is absolutely sure and cannot be broken. Your faith is not a fragile hope, but a sure and validated bond you can fully trust.

Notice Paul follows these three powerful images—from the garden, to the foundation, to the courthouse—with one essential overflow: “overflowing with thankfulness.”

The Wellspring of Gratitude

All of these—being rooted, built upon, and strengthened—flow out of a deep sense of gratitude for what Christ has done.

Paul brings us back to the beginning of the passage: “So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in Him.”

Think about that moment you first came to faith. You were keenly aware of God’s overwhelming, amazing grace and mercy. There was awe, joy, and gratitude. Over time, that sense of awe can fade. We get caught up in “church stuff,” culture wars, or politics, and we lose the central truth: we are unworthy, yet Christ lived, died, and rose again so that we might be brought into his presence.

Paul is calling us to maintain that initial sense of wonder. To do this, we must continually go back to the source—to Jesus. We need to put on the “Christ lenses” by immersing ourselves in the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John).

He saw the world differently: the super-religious who had it all together were “whitewashed tombs,” while the broken and messed up were closer to the Kingdom of God. He saw the world through grace, mercy, and compassion.

This is how we move beyond “an eye for an eye” and other basic human traditions. The way of Jesus says, “We play in a pool of grace. We forgive them for they know not what they do.”

This is what it looks like to have a faith that is rooted, built upon, and validated in Christ—a life lived out of an overflowing sense of gratitude for his transforming work.

Lives Hidden With Christ - The Goal

Sat, 18 Oct 2025 13:37:57 -0400

You can listen to the full audio message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - The Goal This morning, we’re diving into a passage I love: Colossians 2:1-5. And frankly, one of the things I love most about it is that it’s one of those rare places where the Apostle Paul finally decides to be clear!

Usually, Paul can be as clear as mud. But here, he decides to let us in on exactly what he’s trying to communicate, what he’s trying to achieve through this little letter to the Colossians.

Let’s look at the passage together:

“I want you to know how hard I am contending for you and for those at Laodicea, and for all who have not met me personally. My goal is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. I tell you this so that no one may deceive you by fine-sounding arguments. For though I am absent from you in body, I am present with you in spirit and delight to see how disciplined you are and how firm your faith in Christ is.”

The Goal: Encouraged and United

Finally, Paul! It’s so nice when you come across something in Scripture where the writer lays out the purpose: “This is my goal.”

What is the whole point of the letter to the Colossians?

“…that you may be encouraged in heart, united in love, so that you might have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that you may know the mystery of God, namely Christ.”

Then he follows up with the warning: “I tell you this so that no one may deceive you by fine sounding arguments.”

As Paul develops this idea throughout the rest of the book of Colossians, he helps us get to some of the underlying issues. While we can’t nail down exactly what these “fine sounding arguments” were, it’s clear that people were trying to draw these young followers of Jesus away from the core message.

It’s like that classic meme where a person is walking with their partner, but turns to look back at something else that’s caught their eye. The young church was learning about Christ, and then someone came along with a new, cool-sounding idea, and they were tempted to look away. Paul catches them and says, “Guys, don’t go chasing after these fine-sounding arguments. Let me remind you again of the things that are most important.”

He is trying to build a confident foundation for them.

1. Be Encouraged in Heart

This is a strange phrase in English. It’s more than just a “thumbs up, go get ‘em.” The Greek word here is closer to saying, “I want you to be strengthened from your inner being.” It’s an idiom, a figure of speech, where he is saying, “I want you to be absolutely strengthened from your core, from your gut. I want you to have courage to stand firm.”

We need this because we live in a world where all kinds of attractive ideas are swirling around. Paul desires a real, true strength—not a false bravado or a swagger, but an iron strength of being that emanates from your inner guts. When someone like this walks into a room, you know they are strong, and you feel safe.

2. United in Love

The second part of the goal is to be united in love.

The Greek word is Sambibazō (a cool word you can drop into conversation!). It means knit together in love, a deep pursuit and connection with one another.

These two concepts—encouraged in heart and united in love—have to be tied together. The idea of the “lone ranger Christian” simply doesn’t work. Paul says no, to be strengthened from the inside must also mean to be united in love with one another.

We need each other. We are not walking through this world alone. It’s an Old Testament concept: three strings are stronger than one. From that unity in love comes the strength and courage that bubbles up from your innermost being.

The Confidence: Knowing the Mystery of Christ

The ultimate goal of this strength and unity is so that we may have a complete understanding—a confidence in our faith. He wants us to be confident in who Jesus is: the mystery who is Christ.

Jesus is the very image of the invisible God, the one through whom all things are reconciled. Paul wants people to have absolute foundational confidence in the truth of the resurrected Christ.

If we are standing on this bedrock foundation, we won’t be swayed when life or all the competing ideas come at us. Does this mean we can’t doubt or wrestle? No! It means that as you doubt, wrestle, and struggle, you still have this foundation: Christ, the one who has forgiven you, who is merciful, gracious, and compassionate.

The Warning: Don’t Be Deceived

Paul says, “I tell you this so that no one may deceive you by fine sounding arguments.”

In the first century, and today, we are all attracted to the idea of finding something secret, something deeper that no one else knows. We are easily sucked into conspiracy theories and myths. We love it because it makes us feel powerful, like we have something better than someone else.

Paul’s message is clear: Don’t get caught up in these fine-sounding arguments. Don’t be drawn away from the foundation that gives you true and ultimate confidence: the mystery of Christ—the one who lived, died, and rose again.

This is the true north, and everything has to be tested against it. If an idea pulls you away from the reconciliation of all things, from grace, mercy, compassion, and love, it must be discarded.

It’s so easy for us to get sucked in by the newest theory. We need this reminder of where our understanding and confidence truly comes from: the person of Jesus.

A Challenge for Self-Reflection

The way we hold firm is by having a strength from our core, developed by being united in love as the body of Christ.

My challenge for you is this: Take a look and ask yourself, “Where am I building my confidence?”

Are you seeking to build confidence on “your research” about whatever new theory or idea is floating around? Or are you building your confidence on the person of Christ?

Go before the Lord and ask Him, “What is the foundation upon which I am building?” Paul wants us to build on the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

How great will it be to hear these words spoken over your life: “For though I am absent from you in body, I am present with you in spirit and delight to see how disciplined you are and how firm your faith in Christ is.”

Lives Hidden With Christ - The Mystery

Sun, 05 Oct 2025 20:11:35 -0400

You can listen to the full audio of the message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - The Mystery

In our ongoing study of Colossians, we arrive at a profound and challenging passage at the end of chapter 1. We’ve spent several weeks in this book, and as we come to verses 24 through 29, we find the Apostle Paul laying out a message that is as uncomfortable as it is beautiful. It’s a passage that challenges our modern ideas of faith, leadership, and community.

Let’s read the text, Colossians 1:24-29:

Now I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness— the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.

As I wrestled with this passage this week, I was struck by how much of it seems directed at those in church leadership. It makes me a little queasy because if we honestly apply what Paul is saying, it presents a difficult calling. But within this challenge lies a deep and powerful truth for all of us.

What Could Be Lacking in Christ’s Afflictions?

Paul begins in verse 24 with a statement that should make us all stop and think: “I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions…”

If you think about that for even a few seconds, it should raise all kinds of questions. First, he’s rejoicing in his suffering. That’s counterintuitive to our human experience. But it gets even more confusing. He says he is filling up what is _lacking_in Christ’s afflictions.

Time out. What could Jesus possibly lack in affliction? Did Paul not read the Gospels? Jesus’ life was affliction. From the hardship of daily life without modern comforts to the ultimate suffering of being beaten, mocked, and crucified for telling people to love one another—Jesus lacked nothing in his afflictions.

So, what is Paul talking about?

He gives us a clue in another of his letters. In 2 Corinthians 1:3-7, he writes:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.

I believe what Paul is getting at is this: to be united with Christ is to be united with His suffering. Christ suffered and died, and if we claim to walk in His way, suffering will be part of our journey. This isn’t the American evangelical sales pitch to fill the pews; this is the reality of following Jesus.

Since Christ is no longer physically here to suffer on our behalf, Paul says, “I now want to be the one that suffers on your behalf.” He sees his suffering—whether from persecution, spiritual attack, or the weight of ministry—as a way to shield and serve the church. He rejoices if his arrest or his pain means that others might be spared. He is standing in the gap, taking the heat so the body of Christ can flourish.

A Hard Calling for Leaders

This is where the passage becomes a heavy word for those of us in leadership. Our model is to follow Paul in this way—to rejoice in suffering for the sake of the body, to desire that the burden falls on us rather than on you. This is a hard calling. It’s not something they put on the seminary brochures.

Frankly, as I look across the landscape of American Christianity, I’m not sure we, as pastors and leaders, fully comprehend this. We understand we are called to counsel and care for you, but do we grasp that a significant part of our calling is to bear up under the suffering of all of you? To take your pain, your struggles, and your heartache as our own as much as we possibly can.

Our commission is to “present to you the Word of God in its fullness,” not to turn our pulpits into political rallies or platforms for cultural critique. The goal is to present the people of God in full maturity to Him. That is a heavy and humbling responsibility.

The Glorious Mystery Revealed

But the passage gets better. Paul moves from suffering to the glorious purpose behind it. He speaks of:

…the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. (v. 26)

What is this mystery? The Sunday school answer is the right one: Jesus. It’s the mystery unveiled earlier in this chapter, in verses 15-20—that Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the creator and sustainer of all things, the head of the church, and the one through whom God has reconciled everything to Himself.

But it doesn’t stop there. In verse 27, Paul reveals the other side of this mystery:

To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

The mystery is not just who Jesus is, but for whom He came. His reconciliation is not just for one subset of people; it is for the world. When Paul mentions the “Gentiles,” he is saying this grace is not limited to the people of Israel. It is for everyone.

This is radical. We’ve been part of a Western Christian culture for so long that we’ve lost our sense of awe at how incredibly inclusive the gospel is. The mystery is that the grace and mercy of God are not for a special, exclusive club but for all people. Christ meets you where you are, and that is a remarkable, world-changing truth.

Our Response: Three Key Takeaways

So, what do we, as God’s people, do with this passage?

The Gospel is for Everyone. The mystery of “Christ in you” should compel us to invite everybody into this story of love and grace. This is especially true for the people we might label as “those people.” They are the ones we should be running to most quickly with the beauty of the gospel.
Suffering is Part of the Journey. Following Jesus doesn’t mean you are freed from hard things. If we are truly united with Christ, we will walk through hardship. But we walk through it with the hope of glory. If we are united with Christ in his suffering and death, we know we will also be united with Him in His comfort and resurrection.
We Don’t Do It Alone. Paul says he contends “with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.” He is not using his own strength but is leaning on the power of Christ. How does Christ give us this energy? Through His Spirit and through His people—the body. It’s important to note that every time Paul says “you” in this passage, he’s using the plural. This is a community project. We bear one another’s burdens together.

A Challenge for This Week

My challenge for you is to wrestle with this question: Are you trying to carry your burdens alone?

So often, our pride gets in the way. We think, “I’m fine, I can do it,” or “My problems are nothing compared to someone else’s.” When we do this, we rob the body of Christ of its very purpose, which is to come alongside one another and carry each other’s burdens.

Take a good, hard look at your life this week. Are you inviting other followers of Jesus into your pain, your struggles, and your suffering? Let us not try to do this in our own flesh but with the energy of Christ, which He gives to us through His body.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank you that this mystery you have called us into is one of grace, rooted in love, and bigger than we could possibly ever imagine. It is the mystery of the Christ who has reconciled all things and has invited us to be united with Him—in His suffering and in His resurrection—with one another as a part of the body of Christ.

Lord, I pray that you would help us to be a people who invite one another into our lives—into the joys, but also very intentionally into one another’s sufferings, so that we might bear those burdens together. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

From Comments to Coffee: Disagreeing Well in a Digital Age

Mon, 22 Sep 2025 16:41:06 -0400

Is it possible to have constructive conversations with people with whom you disagree these days? That’s a question I’ve been wrestling with for a while now. It’s also a question many have asked me. For over a decade, I’ve tried to create space for these kinds of conversations on Tuesday nights at a local bar. Is it possible? Absolutely! But that declarative statement requires nuance and further explanation.

Let me begin with a story.

After Donald Trump was elected President of the United States in November 2024, I was disheartened. In his election, I anticipated many of the things that are beginning to come to pass: a rise in political violence, violence against immigrants, and moves toward the abrogation of free speech. I see many parallels between the United States today and the 1920s. As in that period with the rise of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, there is a growing hunger for authoritarian leadership—not just here, but abroad. One of my good friends reached out to me via private message, noted that we clearly disagreed about the election, and suggested we grab a coffee.

After an hour or so of chatting, we still did not agree on our assessment of the election. However, I think we both understood where the other was coming from. I respected his position, and he respected mine. We both wanted what was best for our families and our country. We simply had very different understandings of how to get there.

On that same post, people from across the political spectrum commented, and many of the responses got nasty. The name-calling and snark were awful. The way people treated one another in the comment section was very different from how these folks act in “real life.” I don’t think anyone who engaged in that thread walked away understanding anything about the “other.” They spoke past one another and sought out “gotcha” moments.

Why the two different kinds of engagement? Context.

Context matters. Context matters in studying texts and also in having conversations.

When we sit behind screens at keyboards, there is “nobody” on the other side. Those who engage with us in the digital realm become disembodied avatars, not real people created in the image of God. As a result, we react to them as though they’re less than human. Our words betray any sense that we comprehend them as flesh-and-blood people to love. They become nothing more than 0s and 1s to be beaten and subdued.

Sitting with my friend over a cup of coffee, I looked into the eyes of a man deeply concerned for his children and grandchild. His body language communicated worry and anxiety. There were moments when his voice cracked as he spoke of his concerns. This was a man who cared deeply for those in his life and was looking for a way to protect and care for them. Looking into his eyes, I could empathize; I felt deep compassion and sympathy. I think he was able to do the same with me. This is an experience we cannot have through the digital divide.

The two different contexts created two very different kinds of engagement.

It is absolutely possible to disagree agreeably, but we need to do it in the proper context. I’m convinced that social media comment sections, text messages, or other forms of digital communication are not the places for these conversations. We need to have them in person.

Related to this is something else I’ve been thinking about regarding social media. Each of us who has a social media account has the ability to respond immediately to anything and everything we see. Before social media, we might read something in the newspaper or see something on the evening news. To respond would require a letter to the editor. Or perhaps we’d try to publish an article in a journal or write a book. Regardless of the mode of response, it wasn’t immediate; it required effort and time.

We no longer have to wait.

I scroll and click and comment. Immediately.

When we respond with immediacy, we short-circuit our ability to think clearly. Our responses are rooted in the heat of the moment, without time for real reflection. When this happens, we are often less kind, see less nuance, and treat the conversation as a competition to be won.

In light of this, I’m trying hard to embrace a personal twenty-four-hour rule. When I see a post that triggers an emotional reaction, I try to wait at least twenty-four hours before responding. Nine times out of ten, I never respond. Why? Because it turns out the post doesn’t require a response on social media. If I keep thinking about it, I try to engage the person in real life. If that’s not possible, I reach out via private message and try to talk with them that way. A slower, more deliberate response has helped me discern what is needed in the things I encounter in my social feed.

In conclusion, yes, it’s possible to disagree well. But the context and medium matter. I encourage all of us to seek more in-person and fewer online conversations. And if you’re in the Ypsilanti area, join me on Tuesday nights at 8 p.m. at the historic Tap Room in downtown Ypsilanti for a weekly in-person conversation about things that matter.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Reconciled

Sun, 21 Sep 2025 14:54:00 -0400

Listen to the full message here: Lives Hidden With Chris - Reconciled

We live in a world that seems to thrive on having enemies. Everywhere we turn, someone is telling us who we should hate, who is coming for us, who we must fear. And what’s the expected response? Hate them back. Strike before they strike you. This is the way of the world.

But for those of us who follow Jesus, we are called to be in the world but not of it. We are called to look different—to respond differently.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said,

“You’ve heard it said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:43–44)

Jesus flips the whole thing upside down. The world says hate; Jesus says love. And though that teaching is two thousand years old, we’re still wrestling with it today.

Why? Because many of us have not fully grasped the reality of the Gospel—what Jesus has done for us through his life, death, resurrection, and ascension. If we could even begin to understand that reality, it would transform the way we live.

Instead of seeing enemies, we would begin to see neighbors. Instead of fighting, we would begin to love.

But Now… Reconciliation

Paul doesn’t stop there. He gives us the most hope-filled words:

“But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation.” (Colossians 1:22)

That but changes everything.

We couldn’t reconcile ourselves. Every attempt only dug us deeper into alienation. So God stepped in. In Jesus—fully God, fully human—He lived perfectly, without sin, never entering the spiral. And yet He took on the punishment of separation through His death on the cross.

Why? To reconcile us.

So now, Paul says, this is who you are:

Holy in God’s sight
Without blemish
Free from accusation

This is stunning. Even though we still stumble, even though we know our weaknesses and failures, God sees us as holy and whole. He looks at us as though we had never sinned.

No accusation can stand against us.

Living Reconciled

Paul continues:

“…if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel.”(Colossians 1:23)

At first glance, this condition may sound like our salvation depends on our effort. But Paul’s wider argument makes clear: our faith is not something we “gin up” ourselves. If we were alienated and helpless, then reconciliation can only come from God’s initiative.

It is Christ’s faithfulness—not ours—that establishes us in hope. And that hope is sure. Not a wish. Not a maybe. A guaranteed reality.

So Paul’s “if” is not a threat but an invitation: Hold fast to what is already secure in Christ.

From Enemies to Neighbors

If God has reconciled us—once enemies in our own minds, now holy and beloved—then how can we look at others the same way?

We begin to see that no one is truly our enemy. Each person is an image bearer of God, one for whom Christ died and rose again. Even if they see us as enemies, we are called to see them as neighbors.

This is how we live out Jesus’ command to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. We are freed from the spiral of sin and shame, and we step into a life shaped by grace.

A Question for the Week

Do you really believe what Paul writes here—that in Christ you are holy, without blemish, and free from accusation?

Sit with that question. Wrestle with it. Let it sink deep into your heart. Because when it does, it transforms everything—how you see yourself, how you see God, and how you see every person around you.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, remind us that we are reconciled through Christ. We were once alienated, but now we are holy in your sight, without blemish and free from accusation. Help us to live in this reality, to see others not as enemies but as neighbors, and to walk in the amazing grace of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Lives Hidden With Christ - The Fullness of God

Tue, 16 Sep 2025 14:05:30 -0400

If you would like to listen to the full audio of this message you can do so here: Lives Hidden With Christ - The Fullness of God

We are continuing our study of Colossians, and today we come to one of the most stunning passages in all of Scripture: Colossians 1:15–20. This short paragraph is overflowing with Christology—that $10 word that simply means “the study of Christ.” In just a few lines, the Apostle Paul gives us a breathtaking portrait of who Jesus is.

A Hymn or a Poem?

Before we read the text, a quick note: many modern translations set this section apart as poetry. Some scholars even believe it was an early hymn of the church. Whether Paul composed it himself or drew from an existing tradition, the beauty and rhythm of these verses are undeniable.

Here’s what Paul writes:

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. Colossians 1:15-20

Christ vs. Caesar: A Subversive Claim

When we read this passage today, it’s easy to marvel at its theology. But Paul’s audience would have heard something even sharper.

Colossae was deeply influenced by Rome, where Caesar was celebrated as “the image of the gods” and worshiped as divine. Rome’s propaganda claimed that Caesar “held all things together.”

Paul boldly flips this:

Christ—not Caesar—is the image of the invisible God.
Christ—not Caesar—created all things.
Christ—not Caesar—holds all things together.

Rome’s empire was held by violence and fear. Christ’s reign is marked by redemption and forgiveness.

What Does “Firstborn of Creation” Mean?

Paul calls Jesus the “firstborn of all creation,” but this doesn’t mean Jesus was created. Instead, “firstborn” refers to rank and authority. The firstborn was the heir, the one with ultimate privilege.

Paul explains immediately: “For in him all things were created… all things have been created through him and for him.”

Far from being part of creation, Jesus is the Creator himself. All rulers, powers, and authorities—both spiritual and earthly—exist under his authority. Even Caesar was ultimately subject to Christ.

Christ Holds All Things Together

Paul continues: “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”

This was deeply comforting for early Christians, many of whom faced persecution, loss of livelihood, and uncertainty. And it speaks to us today, in our own age of anxiety.

Faith asks: Do we believe Christ really is holding all things together? Even when the world seems chaotic, Paul reminds us that Christ is sovereign.

The Head of the Body: Christ and His Church

Paul also says: “He is the head of the body, the church.”

The church is the body of Christ, and Christ is its head. Just as the head directs the body, so Christ leads his people. And where does the Head lead us?

The Gospels show us:

Toward the marginalized.
Toward healing and restoration.
Toward reconciliation and inclusion.

Jesus healed not only to remove physical suffering but also to restore people into community. That’s where Christ leads his body—the church—today: toward those on the outside looking in.

The Fullness of God Dwelling in Christ

Paul makes a breathtaking claim: “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.”

This was a direct rebuttal to false teaching in Colossae that insisted believers needed secret knowledge, rituals, or special experiences to truly know God. Paul says no: the fullness of God is found in Christ alone.

And what has Christ done? He has reconciled all things through his blood on the cross. By entering death and rising again, Christ defeated sin and death. This was not “cosmic child abuse,” but God himself, in Christ, choosing to reconcile the world through self-giving love.

What This Means for Us

So, what do we do with this portrait of Christ?

Christ is supreme. He is Lord over all creation, powers, and authorities.
Christ holds all things together. We can rest in him instead of living in fear.
Christ leads his body. We are called to follow him to the margins, to reconciliation, to love.
Christ reveals God. If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus.

The challenge is simple but profound: Do we trust this?

A Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank you for Christ—the image of the invisible God, the one who holds all things together. Help us to trust him, to rest in him, and to follow where he leads. May we live as people who embody your reconciling love in a broken world. Amen.

A Pastor's Reflection on Political Violence

Thu, 11 Sep 2025 13:14:16 -0400

Yesterday, September 10, 2025, we once again witnessed horrendous acts of violence in our country. There was a school shooting in Colorado. There was also what appears to be a politically motivated assassination. Earlier this year, our country saw a representative from Minnesota assassinated, apparently for political reasons. There was also the assassination of a CEO of a large health insurance company. In all three cases, people from across the political spectrum condemned the violence. Yet there were also voices, from both sides, arguing in the most appalling ways that those assassinated “got what they deserved.”

I wish any of this were surprising or shocking. None of it is.

As the father of a daughter who was involved in a major campus shooting in March of 2023, I witnessed firsthand the lack of empathy, care, and concern. I also witnessed an outpouring of love that was transformational.

Many are asking: “How did we get here?”

If I told you I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, I would be lying. But after taking about twenty-four hours to think, pray, and meditate, I have some thoughts. I believe they are probably right, but there’s a good chance I could be very wrong.

When I was a college student in the late 1990s at Central Michigan University, I chose to minor in religion. It was fascinating to be a Christian studying religion at a secular university. My professors represented a wide range of beliefs—some non-religious, some Christian, and others practicing various Eastern traditions. Most classes were small, which fostered robust discussions and debates across the spectrum. I was outspoken and held my own in those conversations. Interestingly, the classmates with whom I sparred most intensely were often the ones I came to admire most. Not once can I remember us attacking each other’s personhood. We debated ideas and rationales. While our beliefs were deeply personal, we all understood that our conversations were part of a shared pursuit of truth.

But in the early 2000s, I noticed a marked change on college campuses where I served as a campus minister. Almost overnight, it seemed, the kinds of discussions I experienced in college were no longer possible. Beliefs and perspectives became fused with identity. Challenging an idea was now seen as challenging the person themselves.

By the late 2010s, another shift had taken hold. It became common to “other” people with whom one disagreed. This process of othering led to seeing the other as less than human. Disagreement came to mean evil. The person became the enemy. And once someone was an enemy, friendship across divides—political, religious, or moral—was no longer possible.

“Right wing nut jobs.”
“DemoRats.”
“Baby killers.”
“Homophobes.”

This language of dehumanization spread everywhere: news broadcasts, social media, and nearly every public square.

As a culture, we appear to have lost the ability to see people with different ideas and perspectives as human beings. Instead, they become enemies threatening our very existence—enemies who must be eliminated. The language of warfare now permeates our political, religious, and moral debates. Anyone who disagrees with us is framed as “a threat to our very existence and way of life.”

I often return to a quote from C.S. Lewis’s The Weight of Glory (1941):

“Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.”

We have lost this sense of the humanity and holiness of our neighbor.

Jesus said:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:43–48, NIV)

We have become a culture that only loves those who love us.

John also writes:

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18, NIV)

The loss of love has produced fear. Fear breeds hate. And people who are afraid lash out—not only in words, but also in deeds.

So, how did we get here?

We got here because we no longer value loving those who do not love us. We fear them. So we hate them. We hate them, so we dehumanize them. We dehumanize them, so we kill them.

Are there a thousand other layers and nuances to all of this? Absolutely. If you want to dig deeper, I recommend Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind.

A friend asked me yesterday, “When does it end?”

I don’t have an answer. What I do know is this: I can wake up each day and choose to love my neighbor—including those who don’t love me. I can do nothing else. Neither can you.

Perhaps—just perhaps—if enough of us choose this every single day, the ripple effect might change our neighborhoods, our towns, our states, and even our country.

Lives Hidden With Christ - The Spiral

Wed, 10 Sep 2025 13:17:34 -0400

You can listen to the full audio of this message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - The Spiral

When was the last time you learned something new? Maybe it was a skill, a hobby, or simply a new piece of knowledge. Whatever it was, you probably started with the basics—the fundamentals.

My son grew up playing baseball, and I quickly learned how important fundamentals are. Even as he advanced, practice always included hitting off a tee, fielding ground balls, and playing catch. What struck me is that professional athletes—the best in the world—still return to the fundamentals. They never move past them, but they also don’t stop there. The fundamentals are the foundation upon which the rest of the game is built.

That truth applies not only to sports, but to every area of life, including our spiritual lives.

Include and Transcend

There’s a phrase I’ve come to love: include and transcend. It sounds a little “woo-woo,” but it captures something vital about spiritual growth.

When we begin to follow Jesus, we start with the fundamentals: we pray, read the Bible, gather for worship, and serve others. These practices are the foundation of faith. But at some point, we are invited to transcend them—not by abandoning them, but by going deeper.

We move from simply reading the Bible to studying it. From praying only the Lord’s Prayer to developing a life of prayer in all kinds of circumstances. From showing up at church to living as the church in the world. We include the fundamentals, and then we transcend them.

Think of it like a spiral. You start with the basics, then move outward and upward, looping back in deeper and richer ways. The fundamentals remain, but they become part of a bigger picture.

Paul’s Spiral in Colossians

In Colossians 1:9–14, Paul prays for the believers in Colossae, and what he describes sounds a lot like this spiral of including and transcending:

“Since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father…”

Paul begins with the foundational reality: God has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of His beloved Son. That’s the bedrock truth. We didn’t escape on our own; we were rescued through Christ’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension.

But Paul doesn’t stop there. He prays that the Colossians would:

Grow in knowledge and wisdom through the Spirit.
Live lives worthy of the Lord, bearing fruit in every good work.
Grow stronger in endurance and patience.
Respond with joyful thanksgiving.

Do you see the spiral? Starting from the fundamental reality of rescue, Paul prays for growth that leads outward into deeper knowledge, Spirit-empowered endurance, and joyful gratitude—only to circle back again to the truth of who we are in Christ.

Bearing Fruit

So what does it mean to “bear fruit in every good work”?

It’s not about making churches bigger or tallying conversions. Those are things only God can do. Our responsibility is to live in such a way that the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—is left behind wherever we go.

When we leave a room, when we walk away from a conversation, when we finish a task—do people sense more of that fruit? If not, Paul reminds us to go back to the fundamentals: to seek again the Spirit’s wisdom, knowledge, and strength so that our lives truly reflect who we are in Christ.

Living the Spiral

The beauty of this spiral is that it never ends. We keep including the fundamentals and transcending them, moving outward and deeper until the day when we are fully united with Christ. Then, and only then, will the spiral be complete.

Until that day, Paul’s prayer for the Colossians becomes God’s invitation to us: to remember that we have been rescued, to keep growing in wisdom, to bear fruit, to endure with patience, and to give thanks with joy.

So here are the questions to wrestle with this week:

Do I grasp the foundational reality that I have been rescued by Christ?
Am I seeking the Spirit’s wisdom and understanding through practices like prayer, Scripture, and community?
What fruit am I leaving behind in the spaces I inhabit? Love, joy, peace—or something else?

May we be a people who live this spiral of including and transcending, leaving behind the fragrance of Christ in every place we go.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Faith, Love, and Hope

Tue, 02 Sep 2025 11:54:45 -0400

You can listen to the full message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Faith, Love, and Hope We continue our study of Colossians, Lives Hidden with Christ, focusing on chapter 1, verses 3–8.

Before diving in, it’s important to recognize that verses 3–23 form one big thought from Paul. It’s a single opening salvo—one long, flowing section. Even though our Bibles break it up with headings and even though we’re studying it in smaller chunks, it’s all part of one whole. Today, we’re taking verses 3–8.

Paul writes:

“We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people—the faith and love that spring from the hope stored up for you in heaven and about which you have already heard in the true message of the gospel that has come to you. In the same way, the gospel is bearing fruit and growing throughout the whole world—just as it has been doing among you since the day you heard it and truly understood God’s grace. You learned it from Epaphras, our dear fellow servant, who is a faithful minister of Christ on our behalf, and who also told us of your love in the Spirit.”

—Colossians 1:3–8

The Triad of the Gospel

Did you catch it? Three words stand out: faith, hope, and love.

Paul’s letters return to this triad again and again, echoing 1 Corinthians 13: “These three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

In Colossians, Paul flips the order slightly:

He has heard of their faith in Christ.
He has heard of their love for all God’s people.
Both are rooted in their hope, the treasure stored up for them in heaven.

For Paul, hope is not a wish or a dream. It’s a certainty rooted in God’s grace through the gospel. This hope is the assurance of full reconciliation with God—the undoing of the fall, the restoration of walking with Him “in the cool of the day.” It’s the confident trust that one day everything will be made right.

Hope That Produces Faith and Love

Paul reminds the Colossians: you already have this hope. It’s certain. It’s secure. It’s stored in heaven.

That hope produces two things:

Faith – The trust that God is sovereign and good, even in hardship. Faith gives us spiritual stamina to keep moving forward through grief, pain, and struggle. It’s what enables us to take the next step when we don’t know what comes next.
Love – The kind of love that drives out fear. When we live in hope, we no longer need to fear those who are different from us. Instead, we move toward neighbors—and even enemies—with love. This love identifies the church. It marks God’s people as a community shaped not by fear but by grace.

Do We Understand the Gospel?

Paul commends the Colossians for truly understanding God’s grace. This isn’t mere head knowledge, like knowing that 2+2=4 or reciting the ABCs. It’s intimate, heart-level knowledge. It’s the kind of understanding that produces awe, gratitude, and transformation.

The question for us is this:

Do we truly understand the gospel?
Do we live as people whose certain hope in Christ produces faith and love?
Or are we still shaped by fear, distrust, and division?

When we grasp the certainty of our hope—our reconciliation, redemption, and restoration in Christ—it changes everything. Faith and love spring up naturally from that soil.

May it be said of us, as it was of the church in Colossae: their hope in Christ gave rise to faith and love.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, may we be a people whose faith and love spring from the sure hope stored up for us in heaven. May our neighbors and even our enemies see in us a reflection of Christ’s love. And may the testimony of our lives echo that of the Colossians: they were a people of faith and love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Lives Hidden With Christ - Intro

Thu, 28 Aug 2025 11:09:16 -0400

Check out the full audio of the message here: Lives Hidden With Christ - Intro

Today we begin a new series, walking together through the little letter of Colossians. At only four chapters long, you might think it would take just four Sundays. But this book is so rich, so full of Christ, that it will take us much longer.

Colossians is one of my favorite writings in the New Testament. It is absolutely saturated with Jesus. Everywhere you turn, you encounter Him. You can’t hide from Christ in this letter—He is the central figure on every page.

After spending the last year and a half journeying through much of the Old and New Testaments, it seemed right to pause and focus on one letter in particular. And so, we begin at the beginning:

“Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to God’s holy people in Colossae, the faithful brothers and sisters in Christ: Grace and peace to you from God our Father.”
(Colossians 1:1–2)

At first glance, these verses might not seem like much. But before we can dive into the heart of the letter, we need to place it in its historical and spiritual context.

The City of Colossae

Colossae was once a cosmopolitan city at a major crossroads, filled with shops, artisans, philosophers, and ideas. Imagine a place like Ann Arbor—bustling with trade, intellectual energy, and cultural exchange. But shortly after Paul’s letter arrived, the city was devastated by an earthquake and never rebuilt. Its ruins still lie mostly unexcavated.

The False Teaching

So why did Paul write? Epaphras, a local believer who had planted the church, reported troubling developments. There was some kind of false teaching creeping in. It was a confusing blend:

Jewish traditions (rules, circumcision, holy days).
Ecstatic practices (angel worship, mystical experiences).
Philosophical ideas that sound a bit like Gnosticism (though Gnosticism itself developed later).

The best guess is that Colossae, being such a melting pot, had people combining elements of Judaism, early Christianity, and local philosophies—offering believers a supposed “fuller experience” of God.

The pitch was compelling: “If you really want to be close to God, if you want more than the basics, come to us. We have the secret. We can show you how to worship with angels and experience the divine fully.”

Enticing, isn’t it? Who doesn’t want more of God?

Paul’s Response: Christ Is Enough

Paul’s answer is strikingly simple:
You don’t need any of that. You already have Christ.

Your life is hidden with Him. He surrounds you, indwells you, and sustains you. You don’t need intermediaries. You don’t need secret rituals. You don’t need extra steps.

The risen Christ has already come to you. He has died for you, risen for you, ascended for you, and now draws you into His presence through the Spirit.

Paul’s message may not sound as exciting as angelic visions or mystical experiences. It almost sounds too good to be true. But that’s the reality of the gospel: Christ is enough.

Paul’s Authority

Before Paul dives into this message, he establishes why the Colossians should listen to him. He introduces himself as an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.

The word “apostle” means messenger. But for Paul, it means more: one chosen by God to speak with authority on Christ’s behalf.

Paul didn’t walk with Jesus during His earthly ministry. In fact, Paul was an enemy of the church. Yet Christ appeared to him, called him, and sent him as the apostle to the Gentiles. Paul’s authority rests not on human appointment but on God’s will.

A Gentle Beginning

What’s striking about Colossians is Paul’s tone. Some of his letters are sharp (like 1 Corinthians) or dense (like Romans). But here, Paul addresses the believers in Colossae as:

“Faithful brothers and sisters in Christ.”

What a compliment. Wouldn’t it be beautiful for someone to describe our church that way? To be known as faithful—people who love Jesus and walk with Him?

That’s who the Colossians were, and it sets the tone for the whole letter. Paul writes not with a hammer but with encouragement, reminding them of the sufficiency of Christ.

Our Challenge Today

So what does this mean for us?

Like the Colossians, we are tempted to add things to the gospel. We make mental checklists of what a “real Christian” must do or believe. We sometimes think faith requires Jesus plus something else.

But Paul’s message is clear:
Our lives are hidden with Christ. Nothing more is needed.

The challenge for us as we walk through this letter is to examine our hearts and ask:

What “extras” have we added to following Jesus?
Where have we believed that Christ alone is not enough?
Are we living out the reality that our lives are hidden in Him?

A Prayer

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for calling Paul and making him an apostle, a messenger of Christ. Thank You for preserving his words so that even now, two thousand years later, they still speak with power and authority.

As we read this letter, give us eyes to see, hearts to understand, and the courage to live as people hidden in Christ. Help us to rest in His sufficiency and to be known as faithful brothers and sisters in Him.

In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Bearing Witness to the Way of Love

Tue, 19 Aug 2025 17:14:18 -0400

The fully audio version of the message can be found here: Whispers of Grace - Witness (Revelation)

We’ve come to the end of our summer series, Whispers of Grace: 15 New Testament Words of Life. Week by week, we’ve traced these “words of life” across the New Testament. Today we arrive at the last book of the Bible—Revelation—and with it, our final word: witness.

The Greek word behind “witness” is martis. If that sounds familiar, it should: it’s the root of our word “martyr.” In the New Testament, martyrs are witnesses. Nowhere is this clearer than in Revelation, a book that is, at its core, about bearing witness.

Why Revelation Feels So Strange

Let’s be honest: Revelation is a difficult book. It’s strange, misunderstood, and often misused. Why? Because it’s a particular type of literature: apocalyptic. It’s filled with symbols, metaphors, imagery, and visions that spiral and repeat rather than unfold in a neat, linear timeline.

Revelation is not about decoding current events, drawing end-times charts, or speculating about world powers. At its heart, Revelation is a letter written to seven churches facing persecution. Its purpose is not prediction but encouragement:

Stand firm as faithful witnesses of Jesus Christ, no matter the cost.

The Cost of Witness

For John’s audience, following Jesus meant real loss. To reject Caesar as lord and worship Christ alone was to lose your trade, your livelihood, and possibly your life. To be a Christian in the Roman Empire was costly.

That’s why John’s vision matters so deeply. It’s a call to courage, to faithful witness in the face of suffering, to proclaim Jesus as Lord even when the world demands otherwise.

We may not face arenas, crucifixion, or exile like those first believers. But many of our brothers and sisters around the world still do—in places where following Christ can lead to imprisonment, persecution, or worse.

For us in the West, the cost is usually smaller—maybe being misunderstood, ridiculed, or dismissed as “that weird Jesus person.” Still, the question remains:

Is it worth it?

Jesus as the Faithful Witness

Revelation reminds us that Jesus himself is the faithful witness. His testimony was that God so loved the world He gave His only Son. His witness was unconditional love, grace, and mercy.

And what did the world do with that witness? It crucified Him.

There’s a scene in Good Omens where two angels stand watching the crucifixion. The demon asks, “What did he do that upset them so much?” The answer: “He said, ‘Love one another, and even love your enemies.’” The demon replies, “Yep. That’ll do it.”

That is what Jesus testified to—the radical, counter-cultural love of God. And as his followers, that is our witness too.

The Fruit of Witness

To witness is to embody the fruit of the Spirit:

Love
Joy
Peace
Patience
Kindness
Goodness
Faithfulness
Gentleness
Self-control

These aren’t just private virtues. They are our public testimony. They are countercultural in every age—challenging vengeance with love, greed with generosity, indulgence with self-control.

To live this way is to bear witness to Christ. And it will always cost something.

The Final Word

At the close of Revelation, Jesus testifies:

“Yes, I am coming soon.”
— Revelation 22:20

Until that day, we are called to be faithful witnesses—testifying with our lives to the love and grace of God.

So again, the question: Is it worth it?

Only you can answer that. But my prayer is that you’ll hear the Spirit’s whisper: Yes. It is worth it.

Because one day, when we stand before Christ, we long to hear the words:

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

👉 Question for reflection: What does it cost you to be a witness for Jesus today? And is it worth it?

Love First - Becoming Like Jesus in the World

Sun, 03 Aug 2025 15:31:01 -0400

You can listen to the whole unabridged sermon here: Whispers of Grace - Love (1 John)

As we near the end of our summer series, Whispers of Grace: 15 New Testament Words of Life, we arrive at word number 14—love. It’s no surprise that love makes the list. After all, when we think of Jesus, of God, of the church—love is supposed to be at the heart of it all.

But let me ask you something: if you walked around and asked people outside the church what word comes to mind when they hear “Christian,” do you think they’d say love?

Probably not.

You’re more likely to hear words like judgmental, mean, or political. And that should break our hearts. Because there may be nothing more central to following Jesus than love.

Not Just Paul—John Was All About Love Too

In recent weeks, I’ve grown increasingly convinced that love is not just a theme for the Apostle Paul (think 1 Corinthians 13), but the central thesis of his theology. But today, we’re turning to John—not the Gospel of John, but 1 John—near the end of your New Testament.

1 John is one of those universal letters. We don’t know exactly who it was written to, but its message is crystal clear. John, much like James, deals in contrasts: light and darkness, truth and lies, love and hate. There is no middle ground for him. And when he starts talking about love in 1 John 4, he doesn’t hold back.

Let’s look at what he writes, starting in verse 7:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God… Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love… We love because he first loved us.

This is the foundation: God is love. God loved us first. Therefore, we love.

A Spiritual 2x4 to the Face

There’s one verse in this passage that hit me like a spiritual 2x4 this week. It’s verse 17:

This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world, we are like Jesus.

That’s a high bar. That should leave our knees a little wobbly. Because being like Jesus in this world? That’s not easy. That’s not natural. That’s not comfortable.

I’m not naturally like Jesus. I’m judgmental. I’m brash. I yell at the TV when the Tigers bullpen gives up another lead. I say things I shouldn’t say.

And yet… In this world, we are like Jesus.

So what would that look like?

What Would Jesus Do?

Many of us remember the “WWJD” craze—bracelets, bumper stickers, the whole thing. What would Jesus do? It’s a great question, and the answer is actually simple:

Jesus would love first.

When you read the Gospels, what you see again and again is Jesus moving towards people. Especially the outsiders. The tax collectors, the sinners, the “unclean.” The religious elite mocked him for it:

“He eats with tax collectors and sinners!”

And in that culture, to share a table meant more than just eating together. It meant you are welcome here. You’re like family. Jesus welcomed them in without asking them to change first.

He loved first.

So if we are to be like Jesus in this world, what is our first move toward anyone—friend, stranger, enemy?

Love.

Why Don’t We Love?

If love is that central, why don’t we love well?

The issue isn’t that we hate people. In fact, hate isn’t the opposite of love.

Fear is.

John says it directly in verse 18:

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.

We fear being uncomfortable. We fear losing relationships or reputation. We fear being judged by our churches. And at a deeper level, we fear punishment from God.

But the Gospel tells us—we don’t need to be afraid. Why?

Because God loved us first. He sent His Son for us. His love isn’t conditional. It’s sacrificial.

And that’s the love we are called to show. Even when it’s not returned. Even when it costs us. Even when it’s uncomfortable.

The Church: A School of Love?

There’s a quote from the late bell hooks in her book All About Love that wrecked me. She said:

“We have schools for everything… but no school for love.”

And I thought: That’s supposed to be the Church.

The church should be the place where we learn how to love. Where we practice loving well. Where we learn to love people we don’t understand, don’t agree with, maybe even don’t like.

But we haven’t done that. Instead, we’ve acted more like the religious leaders in Jesus’ day—demanding rule-following, using fear to keep people in line, and pushing away those who don’t measure up.

That’s not love. That’s fear.

And fear kills love.

But perfect love drives out fear.

So… Are We Like Jesus?

Let’s come back to verse 17 again:

In this world, we are like Jesus.

That’s the goal. That’s the call. And it starts with love.

So here’s the hard question:

Are you moving through this world in a posture of love?

It’s easy to say yes when we think about friends or family. But what about our enemies? The people who annoy us? Disagree with us? Vote differently? Worship differently? Live differently?

That’s where love becomes real. That’s where love becomes like Jesus.

Because Scripture says that before we knew Him, we were enemies of God. And what did He do?

He loved us first.

So again, I ask: Are you moving toward your enemies in a posture of love?

That’s the Jesus question.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,
We thank You for the love of Christ. A love that is deeper, wider, and more powerful than we can comprehend.
You loved us first. Even when we were unlovable.

Help us now to be like Jesus in this world.
Help us to love first.
Help us to love our enemies.
Help us to show a watching world what loving well really looks like.

And may this church become a place—a school—where we learn how to love like You.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Holiness Isn’t a List—It’s a Life

Mon, 28 Jul 2025 16:50:21 -0400

You can listen to this week’s message in full here: Whispers of Grace - Holy (1 Peter)

This past fall, I took a weekend trip with my oldest friend, Vince. I’ve mentioned him before—we met on a basketball court at 16, and we’ve been friends ever since. That’s more than three decades now, which makes me feel… well, old.

Vince is a diehard Notre Dame football fan. He loves the movie Rudy—so much that he named his first dog after it—and I’m pretty sure he has the whole thing memorized. The speeches, the plays, the lore—he lives and breathes it. But he had never actually been to a Notre Dame game.

So last fall, at age 47, we made the pilgrimage to South Bend, Indiana. We watched the Fighting Irish take on the University of Virginia Cavaliers, and Notre Dame dominated. The stadium? A charming, small replica of Michigan’s Big House. Quieter than Spartan Stadium in East Lansing. But even still, the environment was electric.

Yet the highlight wasn’t the game—it was the day before.

We arrived Friday afternoon, and I had purchased passes that allowed us to walk through the tunnel and onto the field. As we descended the tunnel, I casually pulled out my phone to record Vince’s reaction. And I’m so glad I did. His face lit up. Awe. Wonder. Goosebumps. A 47-year-old man transformed into a 10-year-old boy stepping onto, for him, holy ground.

It was powerful.

A Holy Calling in a Foreign Land

In 1 Peter 2, the word “holy” only appears once—you are a holy nation. But don’t let that fool you. The entire passage is saturated with the idea:

“You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession…”
– 1 Peter 2:9

Peter is writing to believers scattered across the Roman Empire—Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, Bithynia. He calls them exiles, people living in a foreign land. And here’s the kicker—they didn’t move. They hadn’t relocated. Their exile wasn’t political or geographic. It was spiritual.

They had been transferred from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of God’s beloved Son. And now, wherever they lived, they were no longer fully “at home.” They were exiles with a new identity—a holy nation in a land that no longer fit.

And that identity came with consequences.

These early Christians were no longer participating in the empire’s rituals: no sacrifices to Caesar, no bowing to idols, no festivals in honor of trade guild gods. For some, that meant being kicked out of their trade guilds—losing work, income, and social standing. That’s a real cost. And it forced a hard decision:

Do I live out this identity as a holy exile? Or do I compromise to make life easier?

Sound familiar?

American Idols

We may not offer sacrifices to Caesar, but we’ve got our own idols: politics, popularity, comfort, control. We bow to things that make life smoother, that keep us “in the loop” at work or school or on social media. We justify: I’ve got grace. I’m forgiven. What’s the harm?

But Peter says: Remember who you are.

“You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.”
– 1 Peter 2:9

You’re not just someone trying to be a good person. You’ve been made holy by God. His Spirit lives in you. That means your life will look different. You will feel out of place. And yes—it will be hard.

Holiness Isn’t About Rules

Let’s go back to Moses.

In Exodus, Moses sees a bush burning but not consumed. He approaches, and a voice says:

“Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
– Exodus 3:5

What made the ground holy? Not the bush. Not the fire. Not the moment. God’s presence made it holy. The ground was holy because God was there.

And now? Because of Christ, God is here—in us.

Which means we are holy ground. Every step we take is sacred because God’s Spirit lives in us. Our lives are not holy because of our behavior but because of God’s presence.

Holiness isn’t about avoiding cards, dancing, or rock music. That’s legalism.

Holiness is about being so shaped by the Spirit of God that our lives reflect Him. Holiness isn’t a list of “don’ts.” It’s a way of being in the world. It’s the fruit of the Spirit showing up in everyday life—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Holy Lives for a Watching World

Peter puts it like this:

“Live such good lives among the pagans that… they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.”
– 1 Peter 2:12

Holiness compels us to live lives that shine. Lives that invite questions. Lives that whisper grace.

So here’s the challenge:

Are you living a holy life?
A life that reflects the presence of God?
A life that causes people not to say, “Look at you!” but to say, “Look at what God has done.”

If your answer is “Not really,” then good news: there is grace. You can start again. The Spirit is patient. Ask Him to produce His fruit in you. Practice love. Practice patience. Keep showing up. Keep stepping onto holy ground—because it’s wherever you go.

A Final Prayer

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for calling us to be holy—not as rule-followers, but as Spirit-filled people. Help us to live as exiles in a foreign land, reflecting Your presence and love to a watching world. Remind us of who we are: chosen, beloved, and made holy by You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Religion Isn’t a Dirty Word

Sun, 20 Jul 2025 14:48:14 -0400

You can listen to the full audio version here: Whispers of Grace - Religion (James)

“Christianity Isn’t a Religion, It’s a Relationship”… Right?

Back in the day, when I was on staff with Campus Crusade, I can’t count how many times I’d sit across from a college student and hear something like, “Yeah, I don’t do religion. It’s just not my thing.” And my go-to response? “Ah, but see—that’s the beautiful part. Christianity isn’t a religion. It’s a relationship.”

I thought I had a killer line. And sure, there’s truth in it—Christianity is deeply relational. We have a relationship with God through Christ in the Holy Spirit. But here’s the thing: I was wrong. Christianity is a religion.

Our Word of the Week: Religion

This week in our Whispers of Grace series—our summer journey through 15 New Testament words of life, loosely guided by Dr. Nijay Gupta’s book—we come to the word “religion.”

Surprisingly, the word doesn’t appear much in the Bible. But while it might not show up often, it’s definitely assumed throughout the text. And one of the clearest spots it does show up? The book of James.

James Doesn’t Pull Punches

James is that person in your life who tells it like it is. You either love him for it, or you bristle every time he talks. Even Martin Luther wasn’t a fan—he questioned whether James should even be in the Bible because it felt so different from Paul.

But different doesn’t mean wrong. James and Paul ultimately land in the same place. James just takes the direct route.

In James 1:22–27, we get the clearest biblical look at what religion actually is.

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.”
—James 1:22

James is basically saying, “Don’t just nod along in church. Do something.” He’s like Nike before Nike: Just do it.

He continues with this brilliant illustration: someone who hears the word but doesn’t act on it is like a person who looks in a mirror and immediately forgets their reflection. That’s not spiritual maturity—that’s spiritual amnesia.

Integrity and the Gospel

This is really a call to integrity. If we claim to believe something but our lives don’t reflect it, do we actually believe it? Or are we just big talkers?

I think of this golf video I saw: A guy claims to be a scratch golfer (that means really good), but his swing looks like he’s swatting flies. The commentary? “Yeah, he’s plus 10 after six holes.” No integrity.

James is saying: If you’re all in on church attendance, Bible studies, and Christian activities—but your life outside Sunday morning doesn’t reflect the Gospel—you’re that guy on the golf course. You’re faking it.

Words Reveal the Heart

James drills deeper in verse 26:

“Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.”

C.S. Lewis put it this way:

“If the divine call does not make us better, it will make us very much worse. Of all bad men, religious bad men are the worst.”

Why? Because our words reveal what’s really going on inside us. Garbage in, garbage out. If what’s coming out is mean, judgmental, or graceless, it’s probably because that’s what’s going in. And if our speech doesn’t reflect the Gospel—James says our religion is worthless.

All of Life as Worship

True Christian religion isn’t about ritual or rote practice. It’s about Gospel-shaped living.

Paul says it best in Romans 12:1:

“Offer your bodies as living sacrifices—this is your spiritual act of worship.”

In other words, our whole selves—actions, speech, relationships—are the living out of our beliefs. That’s religion in the biblical sense.

Jonathan Edwards, perhaps America’s greatest theologian, wrestled with this his whole life. Despite his deep understanding of grace, he constantly asked himself: “Is my whole life reflecting the Gospel?” Because he knew that if it didn’t, his religion was hollow.

Soaked in Grace

This sounds intense—and it is. But remember, the whole conversation is soaked in grace.

When Jesus cried out, “It is finished,” He meant it. Your redemption is complete. But grace doesn’t eliminate the call to integrity—it empowers it.

We evaluate ourselves not out of guilt or shame, but out of a deep desire to live a life that reflects the beauty of what Christ has done.

What Does Pure Religion Look Like?

James doesn’t leave us hanging.

“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 1:27

Crystal clear. Take care of the vulnerable. Watch your heart. Stay unpolluted by the world.

In James’s time, widows and orphans were the most vulnerable in society—powerless, voiceless, dependent. So today, who are the modern-day widows and orphans? The outcasts. The isolated. The invisible.

That’s where James says our religion should go.

Religion Means Reconnection

St. Augustine had a beautiful take on the Latin word religio. He said it comes from re- (again) and ligare (to bind or connect—like a ligament).

So religion, at its root, means reconnecting—re-ligamenting. Rebinding the broken. Reconnecting people to God, and people to each other.

I think of my oldest friend, Vince—the middle linebacker and the band geek who became lifelong brothers in Christ. We were ligamented together by the Gospel.

That’s what the Gospel does—it binds us to God and binds us to each other. Religion isn’t about rules. It’s about reconnection.

Questions to Wrestle With

So let me leave you with two questions I’ve been wrestling with this week:

Does my life—the way I act and the words I speak—truly reflect the Gospel?
Would someone who sees me live say that I’m marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control?
Who are the people on the fringes of my life and community that I’m being called to love?
Am I seeing them? Caring for them? Going to them with the reconciling love of Jesus?

These two questions go hand in hand. If we’re doing the first well, the second will naturally follow.

Let’s not merely listen to the Word. Let’s do what it says.

Behind Every Belief Is a Feeling

Thu, 17 Jul 2025 12:04:30 -0400

I remember the first time I drove a three-wheeler. I had ridden on the back with older cousins driving, but I had never been the one in control. There was an overwhelming sense of nervousness as I grabbed the handlebars and placed my thumb on the throttle. I knew where the gear shift was—just near my left foot. I took a deep breath and gave it a little gas. It began to move! A thrill ran through my entire being.

As I drove, I got more confident. Then I got arrogant, believing I was in control. But as I turned a corner, I hit a root—or maybe a large rock—and my thumb slammed down on the throttle. I was absolutely not in control. The machine underneath me was the real master. I was, in all reality, simply trying to hold on and manage it the best I could.

The Elephant and the Rider

In The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt argues that something similar happens with the way we make decisions and understand the world. He makes a compelling case that “intuitions come first, strategic reasoning second” (p. 61). If you want the full argument—spread across three chapters and nearly 100 pages—grab the book. But here’s the short version: we relate to the world primarily through our intuitions.

Haidt calls this our “elephant.” The elephant, as the largest land mammal on Earth, has long been used in parts of the world like horses are used here in the U.S.—including being ridden. Our intuitions, like the elephant, go wherever they want, whenever they want. In truth, we don’t control them. At best, we can hope to guide them. That guidance is what Haidt calls “the rider”—our strategic reasoning.

How Moral Foundations Work

As we engage with the world through our various moral foundations, it’s our intuitions that respond first. Think of moral foundations like taste receptors—ways we interpret the moral significance of what we experience.

Need a refresher on the foundations? Check out this earlier post: The Battle Lines Within.

Most of us like to believe we make decisions based on reason. We imagine ourselves thinking things through, weighing facts, and arriving at logical conclusions. But in reality, we intuit our way to decisions, and then use reason to justify them afterward. In other words, the rider is always trying to catch up with the elephant.

When Reason Meets Disagreement

Interestingly, while we believe we are guided by reason, we tend to assume that those who disagree with us are driven by emotion or blind intuition. Why? Because we assume that if they had simply reasoned through the facts, they’d come to the same conclusion we did.

This leads to a breakdown in communication. Neither side believes the other is using reason—and they’re both right! But because neither sees themselves as fundamentally driven by intuition, real communication becomes nearly impossible.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “You just can’t talk to So-And-So’s supporters. They don’t live in reality.” My friends on the left and right say the same thing about each other. You can see this play out in social media comment threads every day.

Curiosity Over Conflict

As I’ve come to understand the role of the elephant—our intuition—it’s changed the way I listen. I’m becoming more curious about people. It’s far more interesting to learn why someone feels the way they do than to hear their carefully rehearsed arguments.

Why? Because those arguments are just riders trying to direct their elephants. They’re not the why—just the how. Our reasons exist largely to help us feel better about our intuitions. That’s as true for me as it is for you.

How Change Happens

When we encounter triggering events, our moral foundations activate emotional responses. Those emotions then prompt our strategic reasoning to step in and provide meaning and justification.

At the end of the day, reason can’t go anywhere that intuition doesn’t want to. It’s like the elephant and the rider: the rider is powerless to make the elephant move in a direction it doesn’t already want to go.

Why Arguments Fall Flat

So much of our public discourse—especially around politics and religion—is aimed at the rider. People lay out “arguments” and “facts” to try to win others over. But little progress is made, because facts and arguments rarely reach the elephant.

To make real progress, we must speak to people at the level of their moral foundations and intuitions. When we do, two things happen:

We grow in empathy and compassion. We begin to understand the heart of the person we’re engaging with. We can start to see the world as they do.
We both might change. When we come to see that our intuitions may have been misdirected or incomplete, our reasoning adapts. Our rider catches up with a new path the elephant is willing to take.

The Shift in Me

The more I learn about the elephant and the rider, the more I realize people are rarely who I initially think they are. While someone’s arguments might rub me the wrong way, if I choose to explore the intuitions behind those arguments, I usually find something relatable.

I also find that when I want to communicate my own views, I’m better off identifying and sharing the intuitions that drive me. When I do, my conversation partners tend to respond more openly.

What About You?

What do you think?
Does this ring true for you?

From Guilt to Grace - The Path to Soul-Level Peace

Sun, 13 Jul 2025 14:16:26 -0400

The audio of this week’s message: Whispers of Grace - Peace (Hebrews)

As we continue our summer series, Whispers of Grace: New Testament Words of Life, today we turn our attention to the word peace. This is especially fitting given our setting—Peace Presbyterian Church. It’s worth pausing to reflect on what this word means, particularly for those of us who call this place home.

Our focus today is the letter to the Hebrews, specifically chapter 10. At first glance, it might seem odd to draw insights about peace from Hebrews, since the word itself only appears a few times in the text. However, the theme is present in powerful, though indirect, ways. Hebrews speaks frequently of rest and of reconciliation, of how humanity’s sin is atoned for. These discussions open a deeper understanding of peace—a peace that is more than the absence of conflict or noise. It is a soul-level peace, hard-won and deeply rooted in Christ.

In our culture, peace is often associated with the end of war or the absence of chaos. Mention peace, and many of us immediately think of Ukraine and Russia, or long-standing tensions in the Middle East. As a child of the 1980s, I remember the constant call for “Peace in the Middle East”—a rallying cry on television and beyond. Alternatively, if you’re a parent or a teacher, peace might conjure images of quiet—of finally getting a moment to yourself without disruption.

But the biblical notion of peace goes far deeper than that. Just as biblical hope is not merely wishful thinking, biblical peace is not merely tranquility or the absence of conflict. It is wholeness. It is reconciliation with God. It is the unshakable security of knowing that nothing stands between us and the Creator.

In Hebrews 10:19–25, we find a window into this richer understanding of peace:

“Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus… let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings…”
— Hebrews 10:19, 22

The word confidence here is vital. The “Most Holy Place” refers to the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple, where the high priest could enter only once a year to offer a sacrifice for the people. Tradition holds that if the priest had unconfessed sin, he risked death in God’s presence. Because of this, they would tie a rope around his ankle, just in case they needed to pull him out.

Imagine the anxiety of that priest the night before the Day of Atonement—lying awake, heart pounding, soul searching. That’s not peace. That’s dread.

But Hebrews says we can enter the Most Holy Place with confidence. That means something has changed. We can approach God without fear, because we are at peace with Him. Why? Because Christ has gone before us. Through His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He has reconciled us to God. We don’t have to tiptoe into God’s presence. We can walk in boldly—like a child bursting into a room where they are always welcome.

This kind of peace—the peace we have with God—is not self-generated. It’s not based on how good we feel about ourselves. It is founded on Christ’s finished work. And that’s good news, especially for those of us who, like Paul, might call ourselves the “chief of sinners.”

Hebrews continues:

“Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience…”
— Hebrews 10:22

A guilty conscience is one of the most persistent thieves of peace. When we carry guilt—especially unresolved or internalized guilt—it often evolves into shame. And shame is not just about what we’ve done; it’s about who we believe we are.
Guilt says, “I lied.”
Shame says, “I’m a liar.”
That’s a much heavier burden.

Our culture is confused on this point. It tells us not to feel guilty—yet we practice shame relentlessly, especially in online spaces. But the Scriptures show us a better way. They acknowledge guilt, but point us toward forgiveness. They do not condemn us but call us saints. Paul never addressed his letters “To the sinners at Corinth” or “To the failures at Ephesus.” He addressed them to the saints—because that’s who we are in Christ.

When our guilty consciences are cleansed—when we truly believe we are forgiven—we experience peace. A deep, abiding peace that doesn’t shift with our circumstances.

As a parent, my wife and I tried to instill this understanding in our children. When they acted out, we never said, “You are bad.” We said, “Why are you acting this way?” The distinction was intentional. We wanted them to know: this behavior is not who you are. You’re acting out of step with your true identity. And the gospel says the same to us:

“This is not who you are. You are forgiven. You are loved. You are mine.”

Hebrews goes on:

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”
— Hebrews 10:23

This hope is not wishful thinking. It is the confident expectation that Christ has done exactly what He said He would do. He lived. He died. He rose again. He ascended. And because of that, we are forgiven. Our consciences are clean. Our peace is real.

I’m reminded of my friend John, who died of cancer a few years ago. He had lost a leg and battled for months, but when he received his terminal diagnosis, he told us with a calm smile, “I’m at peace.” That wasn’t denial. That was faith. Peace radiated from him even on the day he died. Why? Because he knew Christ. And he knew that his hope—and his peace—were secure.

Hebrews ends this passage with a call:

“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds… encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”
— Hebrews 10:24–25

We need each other to hold onto this peace. We need to gather, to remind one another of who we are, to speak the truth in love:
You are forgiven. You are free. You are a saint.

We gather not only for our own sake, but to build up the confidence and peace of others. Because those who are confident in their identity in Christ love well. They serve freely. They are not trying to prove themselves. They are simply present—fully available to love others.

And that, perhaps, is the greatest testimony of all.

A Challenge

So here’s the challenge:
Do you have peace?
When you look in the mirror, do you see yourself as one at peace with God? Or is there an undercurrent of unrest, of shame, of anxiety?

If we start here—if we become people marked by this deep peace—then maybe, just maybe, the world around us will begin to reflect that peace too. War might become less common. Stillness more familiar. And the peace of Christ, which transcends all understanding, will guard our hearts and our minds.

May it begin with us.

The Battle for Liberty - Two Stories, One Word

Wed, 09 Jul 2025 10:00:00 -0400

Depending on how you answer that question, someone could likely place you on the political spectrum. That’s because liberty makes up one half of the final moral foundation described by Jonathan Haidt in The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. This is the liberty/oppression moral foundation.

Haidt writes:

“The liberty/oppression foundation, I propose, evolved in response to the adaptive challenge of living in small groups with individuals who would, given the chance, dominate, bully, and constrain others.”

He argues that anything even resembling oppression can activate this foundation. And it’s here that we begin to see just how differently people across the ideological spectrum view the world.

Those on the liberal end of the spectrum tend to apply this moral foundation to society as a whole. That is, they are sensitive to oppression on both global and local scales. Conservatives, on the other hand, experience this foundation at the individual level. They tend to be triggered when their personal freedom feels constrained. For liberals, liberty often aligns closely with equality, while conservatives make no such connection.

Can you begin to see how these two perspectives might create a divide that’s difficult to bridge?

Addressing liberal concerns within the liberty/oppression matrix often requires limiting what conservatives perceive as individual liberty. For example, to achieve equality of outcomes, liberals may advocate for taxation. They see this as a worthwhile sacrifice—redistributing resources to increase liberty for those facing systemic disadvantages. This also draws in the care/harm foundation. All these moral foundations are interconnected, informing and reinforcing one another.

When a liberal sees a system that causes harm to vulnerable individuals, they often feel morally compelled to intervene and correct it—even through large-scale efforts like redistributive taxation. Liberal-leaning governments tend to support higher taxes, viewing them as a means of combating oppression and creating more equal outcomes.

Conservatives, in contrast, often view taxation itself as a form of oppression—a forced seizure of what they have earned. From this perspective, true liberty is about individual autonomy: choosing how one’s money is spent, creating opportunities through personal effort, and helping others voluntarily. A conservative might say, “I’ll fund road maintenance because I use and value good roads,” or “I want to help someone in need, but I should choose when and how.” For them, liberty means maximizing personal freedom and minimizing external control.

If you’re like most people, one of those last two paragraphs probably frustrated you, while the other resonated. That’s your liberty/oppression foundation being triggered—likely stirring an emotional response.

I believe this moral foundation might be the most significant of them all because it’s felt so viscerally and in ways that often seem fundamentally opposed. When I scroll through social media, I see it play out constantly. Of course, it’s often intertwined with the other moral foundations, and it’s hard to separate them entirely—but once you start noticing the liberty/oppression dynamic, it becomes almost impossible to unsee.

The hard part is building a bridge across the divide. Each of us lands somewhere along this spectrum. One of the most difficult things we can do is identify our own position and then genuinely listen to someone else’s. Honestly, most of us don’t. I know I sometimes try, and sometimes I don’t—because it just takes too much energy. When I don’t try, that’s when the arguments turn futile and people talk past one another.

How about you?

Do you think you’re able to understand someone else’s position on this moral foundation?
What might happen if we were intentional about doing so?
How might our conversations change?

The Glue of Disgust - Exploring Our Sanctity Instinct

Wed, 02 Jul 2025 10:00:00 -0400

I’m a pretty big fan of Mister Rogers. I remember watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood growing up, and his kind and reassuring voice always resonated with me. He was, in many ways, a role model. After my parents’ divorce, the world felt a bit topsy-turvy, but there was a consistent kindness that came from Mister Rogers. Over the years, as I grew into an adult, I learned that Mister Rogers was a Presbyterian minister (hey, me too!) and also the kind of guy who would get into “good trouble.” This gentle and kind man was anything but timid or weak.

One of my favorite stories about Mister Rogers took place during the push for Civil Rights for Black Americans, when many pools were segregated. There was this strange belief that Black and white people couldn’t be in the same water, or something bad would happen to the white people. White people were even afraid to use the same water fountains. So, one day on his television show, Mister Rogers and his local police officer, Francois Clemmons (who was Black), shed their shoes and socks and soaked their feet together in a small wading pool. This simple act sent shockwaves and deeply challenged many existing social norms. Many people were disgusted by it.

Sanctity/Degradation: A Moral Foundation

The response of “disgust” highlights our next moral foundation: sanctity/degradation. In the early stages of human development, it was imperative for our survival as a species that we developed a strong sense of sanctity/degradation. If people kept trying to eat rotting meat or their feces, they wouldn’t have survived. So, we began to categorize some things as clean and some as unclean. As humanity developed medicines and technology to cook and store food properly, this moral foundation didn’t simply disappear. Instead, it latched onto ideas and ideologies.

One of my favorite scenes in the Bible is the story of Cornelius and Peter. This is the famous account where Peter goes into a trance and sees a sheet of “unclean” animals dropped from heaven, commanded by God to “rise, kill, and eat.” Peter, being a godly Jewish man, declines, as he has never eaten unclean food. Then, he goes on to meet Cornelius, and it strikes him that God was revealing that while people might see Gentiles as unclean, God has declared them clean. The ramifications of this are felt throughout the rest of the Book of Acts.

Sanctity/degradation as a moral foundation is the building block for some very important virtues in our lives, such as chastity, piety, cleanliness, and temperance. I think most of us would agree that these are important for people to incorporate into their lives. In every parent’s life, there comes a day when you have to ensure your child wears deodorant. In American culture, there’s a strong aversion to the smell of body odor; we find it to be a sign of someone being unclean.

This moral foundation drives people together and bonds them over their revulsion of something they consider to be unclean or taboo. For instance, Mormons and Baptists are often deeply bonded over their pro-life stance. In other areas, they may disagree vehemently, but their shared revulsion of abortion bonds them together. In the same way, devout Muslims and the LGBTQ community may be bonded together through their revulsion of various Republican stances they deem to hurt minority populations. Again, while they may hold wildly disparate views on many things, their shared disgust bonds them together.

The sanctity/degradation moral foundation opens the door for people to understand certain ideas or people as being clean and unclean. The clean is to be embraced, the unclean to be destroyed.

When I find myself in conversation with someone who holds disparate sanctity/degradation positions from my own, I find it really difficult to cross that divide. I have a lot of work to do in growing in this area. I wonder, how do you deal with it? Do you feel like you’re able to cross this divide?

Hope Rises - The Resurrection as Our Foundation

Sun, 29 Jun 2025 15:31:19 -0400

If you’d like to listen to this week’s message you can do so right here: Whispers of Grace - Hope (1 & 2 Thessalonians)

One of my favorite fictional universes is Star Wars. As I’ve shared before, I stand firmly on the right side of the Star Wars versus Star Trek debate. Trekkies, Trekkers, or whatever you call yourselves, you’re wrong. Star Wars, with its space wizards and laser swords, is vastly superior to the subpar Star Trek series.

The Power of Hope in Star Wars

Oddly enough, my favorite Star Wars film is Rogue One, a movie that doesn’t feature space wizards or laser swords. Instead, it’s a gritty portrayal of the early rebellion against the Empire, set just before the original Star Wars film, Episode IV: A New Hope.

In Rogue One, the lead character, Jyn Erso, delivers a powerful line: “Rebellions are built on hope.” This line resonates deeply, especially when considering the original film’s title. The concept of hope weaves its way throughout the Star Wars saga. In Episode IV, Princess Leia famously reaches out to Obi-Wan Kenobi, pleading, “Help us Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re our only hope.”

Hope: A Modern Misconception

It’s interesting how often the word “hope” appears in our culture and even in religious texts. Yet, like a line from The Princess Bride, one might say, “You keep using that word, but I do not think it means what you think it means.”

In the modern world, hope often equates to a wish. For example, I might say, “I hope the Detroit Tigers win the World Series.” This hope is based on projections and statistical analysis, but ultimately, it’s just a desire. We hope for our favorite sports teams to win championships, or for good things to happen in our daily lives. We use “hope” liberally, often meaning little more than “I wish you the best.”

The same holds true for the hope seen in Star Wars. The hope that rebellions are built on is a wish, a desire, a dream. However, this isn’t the profound meaning of hope found in Scripture.

Understanding Biblical Hope

Today, we’re exploring the concept of hope as it’s presented in the New Testament, drawing insights from Dr. N.T. Wright’s book, 15 New Testament Words of Life. We’ll focus on 1 Thessalonians chapter 4, starting from verse 13:

“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore, encourage one another with these words.”

The core takeaway from this passage is profound: Christian hope is based on the resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is where our hope is rooted, built, and found.

Hope Beyond Wishful Thinking

For Christians, hope isn’t mere wishful thinking or an empty platitude. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians because their community had been shaken by deaths. In the early Christian community, there was a misconception that following Christ meant an easy life, free from sickness or death. However, when people in Thessalonica began to die, they sought answers from Paul.

Most people in Thessalonica were Gentiles, for whom death meant a final journey to Hades, a place with no return. Unlike Greek mythology, which sometimes depicted heroes retrieving loved ones from the underworld, their reality offered no hope of resurrection or eternal life. Death was the end.

Paul, in his letter, aims to inform them, not to sugarcoat the truth. He explains that believers who have “fallen asleep in Christ” (a gentle term for death, not a theological statement on the soul’s state) are not “dead dead” in the hopeless sense of the world. Instead, they have a hope rooted in Christ’s return and resurrection. There will come a day when Christ returns, and all who have died in Him will rise first, followed by those who are still alive. All will be caught up together with Christ forever. This is the great hope that allows believers to grieve differently, with a sense of hopeful anticipation.

The Unwavering Foundation of Hope

This hope is not a wish. As Paul writes in Romans chapter 5, verses 1-5:

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Our boast is in the hope of the glory of God. Is there anything more certain than the glory of God? No. God’s glory is so overwhelming that Moses could only see His “backside.” Our hope is not wish fulfillment; it is rooted in this absolute reality.

Furthermore, Paul states that we glory in our sufferings because suffering produces perseverance, which builds character, and character ultimately leads to hope. This is mind-blowing because we often struggle with hope during suffering. Yet, Paul reveals that hope is a result of navigating hardships. Through trials, we are refined and transformed, emerging with a deeper understanding that our hope is in the resurrected Christ, and this hope will never put us to shame.

Hope: An Anchor, Not a Whisper

For the follower of Jesus, hope is anchored in the historical fact of Christ’s resurrection. If He rose once, He will certainly return again. Our hope is not a flimsy wish; it is a confidence, a foundation. As one writer, Matthew, aptly put it: “People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spit out a tooth as she rises for another go.”

Hope for the Christian is neither weak nor soft because it is rooted in Jesus’ conquest of death. He scorned the shame of the cross for the joy set before Him, rose again, and conquered death, evil, and the powers of this world. Because Jesus rose from the dead, our hope is absolutely assured and unwavering. It is not a wish or a dream; it is a reality.

Where Is Your Hope Built?

As you go about your week, I challenge you to reflect on your own heart and ask: What do I hope in? Is your hope firmly built on the resurrection of Christ, or is it founded on something else?

Perhaps your hope is built on your physical well-being. When sickness strikes or your body begins to decline, does your hope deteriorate? Or maybe your hope is centered on financial success. When the market dips or you face job loss, does your world feel like it’s falling apart?

For those who follow Christ, our hope is built and rooted in the sure foundation of the resurrection. This bedrock reality, the ultimate display of Christ’s love and righteousness, provides absolute confidence.

Let us pray:

Heavenly Father, we thank You that our hope is not merely wishes and dreams, but that it is absolutely rooted and grounded in the resurrection of Christ—the one thing about which we can be entirely sure. We hope in Your glory. We hope for that day when Christ will return, when all things will be made new, and every tear will be wiped away. We embrace this hope not as something ephemeral or as fragile as a spider’s web, easily blown away, but as a hope built on the bedrock reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We pray this in His name. Amen.

The Spectrum of Submission - Where Do You Stand?

Thu, 26 Jun 2025 14:24:24 -0400

When you think about your boss, do you have positive or negative emotions? How about when you consider the reality of a hierarchy at your workplace or social institution? In general, do you think that hierarchies and their resulting authority structures are good and helpful, or do you see them as something to be bucked against?

The next moral foundation that Jonathan Haidt lays out in his text, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion, is authority/subversion. This moral foundation is rooted in our innate development of social and other hierarchies. On one side of this spectrum is the authority of those in hierarchical leadership positions; on the other are those who seek to subvert those structures. This moral foundation originally arose from people seeking to develop helpful relationships within the hierarchies they found themselves in.

Consider a small town in the distant past. The town’s lord, who owned the land, had a responsibility to care for the people living on it. When he exercised his authority properly and well, those people would submit to his authority and trust his care. However, if the lord was uncaring and exploitative, the resulting suffering of the people under his charge would lead to all sorts of subversions.

We see this authority/subversion foundation embedded in small things, like how we speak to elders. Growing up, I always referred to adults as “Mr.” or “Mrs. Last Name.” Perhaps you did too. Adults who were connected to our family through more intimate relationships often gained the title “Aunt” or “Uncle,” even if they weren’t blood-related. Why? It was a display of respect and endearment for an adult who was in authority over me within our family hierarchy.

Let’s think back to the opening questions. How do you respond when you think about authority? I typically have a negative reaction, unless the authority has in some way earned my respect. I’m guessing that for many of us, this is the norm.

Many people think of authority only in terms of power. That is, there’s an immediate jump from recognizing some authority to assuming they will use their authority to benefit themselves, as opposed to caring for those under them.

Haidt argues that those on the left side of the political spectrum tend toward the subversion of authority, while folks on the right side tend toward the authority side. We live in a world of hierarchies with all kinds of resulting authority structures. This means that those on the right typically carry a characteristic sense of respect toward authority, whereas those on the left typically present with a sense of fear toward those in authority.

When we relate to the various hierarchies of authority in our world in such different ways, it’s not surprising to see gulfs widening between people. If you are someone who embraces the moral foundation of authority, you perceive those who are subversive as disrespectful and morally inferior. If you tend toward subversion of authority, you will experience those who respect authority as immorally uncaring and without empathy for those not in beneficial relationships with authority. The kicker here, though, is that these roles will likely reverse when a preferred authority rises in the hierarchy.

When I engage in conversation with people, I try to identify their placement on this spectrum. It’s helpful to know if they are carrying a sense of subversive fear or submissive respect. In doing so, I can try to meet them where they are on particular topics. I have identified in myself a sense of subversive fear. I tend to see the worst in any and all authority. I assume that they are seeking to only benefit themselves (at best) or are seeking to do me harm (at worst).

How about you? Where do you find yourself on this spectrum of moral foundation?

Whispers of Grace - The Radical Call to Share Life

Mon, 23 Jun 2025 15:46:52 -0400

The audio of this week’s message can be found here: Whispers of Grace - Fellowship (Philippians)

The concept of “community” is a major buzzword in the church world today. You hear it everywhere—in announcements about community lunches, chair volleyball, and denominational meetings. While we love to talk about community, it often feels shallow and misses the deeper calling for followers of Jesus.

From Community to Koinonia

What we’re truly called to is fellowship. This “old-fashioned” word has lost some of its impact, replaced by “community,” which further distances us from the original meaning. In the New Testament, the Greek word for what we translate as fellowship is “koinonia.”

Koinonia isn’t just about social gatherings or having fun; it’s a “depth word.” It signifies a profound sharing of life with one another.

Paul’s Radical Call to Koinonia

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul provides a beautiful illustration of what koinonia truly means. In Philippians 2:1-11, he writes:

“Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in Spirit and one of mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility, value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus, who, being in very nature, God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage. Rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness and being found in appearance as a man he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Therefore, God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.”

The Depths of Koinonia

Paul’s words reveal several key aspects of koinonia:

Sharing in the Spirit: The word “sharing” in verse 1 is koinonia. It’s not merely about having fun; it’s about a deep, spiritual connection and mutual participation in the Holy Spirit.
Doing Life Deeply: As followers of Jesus, we are called to share our lives with one another—to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” This means being present for each other in both joy and sorrow, truly knowing and caring about what’s happening in one another’s lives.
Sharing All Things in Common: While this might not mean pooling all our material possessions in today’s world, it does mean sharing our skills, talents, and resources. If you’re good at fixing things, offer your help. If you need assistance, don’t hesitate to ask. This reciprocal giving and receiving strengthens the bonds of fellowship.
The Mindset of Christ: This is the most challenging, yet crucial, aspect of koinonia. Paul urges us to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit” but rather “in humility, value others above yourselves.” This requires setting aside our own interests and genuinely looking out for the interests of others. It means having the same self-sacrificing mindset as Christ Jesus, who, despite being God, humbled himself to the point of death on a cross for others.

The Call to Radical Fellowship

Living out koinonia is not easy. It means abandoning pride, arrogance, and selfishness. It means serving one another, even when it’s difficult, and being willing to “die to self.” But when we live this way, something profound happens: God is exalted. The world takes notice and sees something truly compelling in a community that embodies this radical love and selflessness.

The shrinking church and declining numbers of Christians are often lamented. Perhaps the reason is that we aren’t truly practicing koinonia. We’re not sharing life deeply, and we’re not consistently adopting the mindset of Christ.

A Challenge for This Week

My challenge to you this week is simple: Where is your mindset? As you relate to others, are you doing so with humility, grace, and a servant’s heart? Are you seeking to truly share life, not just engage in superficial activities? Are you valuing others above yourself and looking to their interests, just as Christ did?

Let’s pray that we would be a people who truly pursue koinonia—a depth of sharing rooted in the mindset of Christ, where we put others before ourselves for God’s glory.

Grace Without Conditions - The Radical Love That Turns the World Upside Down

Wed, 18 Jun 2025 10:40:29 -0400

The audio for this week’s message can be found here: Grace Without Conditions - The Radical Love That Turns the World Upside Down

This week, we’re talking about a word that many of us have heard so often, it risks losing its impact. It’s a word we might hear in church, at dinner tables, and even during Olympic commentary—so much so that it can go in one ear and out the other.

That word is grace.

We’re continuing our sermon series on Whispers of Grace: Words of Life from the New Testament, based on Dr. Nijay Gupta’s book 15 New Testament Words of Life. Today, we turn our attention to the word “grace” as seen through the lens of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

But before we dive into Ephesians, let’s pause and reflect on this word—grace.

Everyday Grace and Its Many Meanings

Grace is one of those words that we hear all the time. We “say grace” before meals. We describe athletes as moving with “grace.” It’s used in poetry, prayer, and pop culture. But because it’s so common, it can lose its meaning—or at least its impact.

And yet, for followers of Jesus, grace is everything.

It might be the most beautiful word in all of Scripture. It’s the word upon which everything turns.

What Is Grace, Really?

I grew up in a Christian tradition that loved to define things. When we talked about grace, we called it “unmerited favor.” And that’s a solid, textbook definition: getting something you don’t deserve.

Grace is closely tied to mercy. Mercy is not getting what we do deserve. Grace is getting what we don’t deserve. The two are deeply connected.

But does “unmerited favor” really do justice to a word that inspired a song like Amazing Grace—a song that brings tears to our eyes, grips our hearts, and fills sanctuaries with hope? Probably not.

Bono, the lead singer of U2, once said in a song:

“Grace, she takes the blame. She covers the shame. Removes the stain. It could be her name.”

He also says:

“Grace… it’s the name of a girl. It’s also an idea that changed the world.”

And that’s what grace is: an idea that changed the world. The Gospel turned everything upside down—and at the center of it all is grace.

Grace in Ephesians

This morning, we look at Ephesians 2. Grace is central to this letter—it drips from every verse.

Let’s read from Ephesians 2:1–10:

“As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins… But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ—even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.”

Paul doesn’t just mention grace here—he builds everything around it. And he connects it directly to love:

“But because of his great love for us…”

Grace is rooted in God’s love. His overwhelming, unconditional, self-sacrificial love.

This is love that sees us exactly as we are—messy, broken, rebellious—and chooses us anyway. He doesn’t come to the end of His rope with us. He doesn’t grow tired of our failures. He doesn’t withdraw His grace. Ever.

Grace Has No Conditions

The most radical thing about grace is that it’s completely unconditional. God looks at you, as you are, and says, “You’re mine.” No preconditions. No checklist. No performance review.

And we struggle with that. Because we don’t really get grace. We love its benefits—freedom from punishment, the promise of heaven—but the depth of it? The reality that God loves us without condition? That’s hard for us to wrap our minds around.

Why do I say we don’t understand it?

Because when it comes to forgiving others, extending grace to them, we hesitate. We ask if they’ve earned it, if they’ve changed enough, if they deserve our forgiveness.

But grace was never about what we deserve. If it were, it wouldn’t be grace.

The Gift of Faith

Let’s not miss the nuance in Ephesians 2:8–9:

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Even faith—the one thing we think we bring to the table—is a gift.

It reminds me of when my son Ethan wanted a Nintendo Wii for his birthday. We told him he could get one if he bought it himself. So we asked our family members to give him money for his birthday. Every dollar he received, we arranged. Even the condition we placed on him—we fulfilled.

That’s grace. God gives us even what He asks of us. That’s how deep His love runs.

Grace Is Costly, Not Cheap

But don’t mistake grace for leniency. It’s not that God simply doesn’t care about sin. Grace is costly. It emanates from the cross. It cost Jesus everything. It’s not grace because God shrugs off sin; it’s grace because Jesus took the weight of it on Himself.

This is not cheap grace. This is crucified grace.

Now What?

Paul writes in Ephesians 2:10:

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

We are saved by grace for good works. Not to earn our salvation, but to live out the grace we’ve been given.

We are now carriers of grace. We are the ones who should be displaying to the world the incomparable kindness of God.

So how are we doing?

Too often, we hold back grace. We ask if people have earned it. We expect repentance, remorse, proof of change—before we offer forgiveness.

But grace never starts with conditions. And neither should we.

The Challenge: Examine Your Heart

So here’s my challenge for you this week:

Take time to look inward. Ask yourself:

Do I really believe that God’s love for me is unconditional?
Do I truly understand the depths of grace that have been given to me?
Am I living in a way that reflects that grace to others?

Because if we really believed this grace—if it took root in our hearts—we would live differently. We would forgive more easily. We would love more fully. We would offer grace without hesitation.

That’s what the world needs to see in us: a people of grace. A people of extravagant, generous, unconditional love.

A Final Prayer

Heavenly Father,
Help us to grasp the wonder of Your grace.
To understand that we are fully loved and fully accepted—not because of what we’ve done, but because of what You’ve done.
Make us people who carry this grace wherever we go,
who forgive, who love, who reflect Your kindness to a watching world.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Let this week be one where you sit with grace. Wrestle with it. Embrace it. And let it transform the way you live.

Whispers of Grace - What Truly Counts? Unpacking Faith, Trust, and the Gospel

Sun, 08 Jun 2025 14:32:03 -0400

We often use words like “faith” and “belief” interchangeably, assuming we understand their full meaning. But what if there’s more to faith than we realize? What if our understanding is incomplete, even if we’ve been in church our whole lives?

This post dives into the rich meaning of faith, drawing insights from the Apostle Paul’s letters to the Galatians and Romans, and a book titled 15 New Testament Words of Life by Dr. Nijay Gupta.

Galatians and Romans: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Paul’s letters to the Galatians and Romans are foundational texts that explore similar themes, particularly the concept of faith. Interestingly, while Romans is much longer (16 chapters to Galatians’ 6), Galatians was written first. Think of Galatians as the “seed” from which the more thoroughly developed arguments in Romans grew. If you read them sequentially, you can see how Paul built upon his initial thoughts in Galatians.

Though Romans is lengthy, it’s surprisingly concise. The entire letter fits on the front and back of a standard newspaper page – a quick read for people in ancient times! Romans was addressed to the multiple churches in the vast city of Rome, while Galatians was written to a single church in the province of Galatia.

The Problem in Galatia: The Judaizers

The church in Galatia faced a significant challenge from a group Paul controversially called “Judaizers.” These individuals, who were Jewish Christians, taught that Gentile believers needed to be circumcised to be truly right with God. In their view, faith in Jesus wasn’t enough; adherence to the Old Testament law, specifically circumcision, was also required for salvation.

This teaching enraged Paul. He vehemently opposed the idea that anything could be added to faith in Christ for salvation. In Galatians 5, he declares:

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Mark my words! I, Paul, tell you that if you let yourselves be circumcised, Christ will be of no value to you at all. Again I declare to every man who lets himself be circumcised that he is obligated to obey the whole law. You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace. For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” (Galatians 5:1-6 NIV)

This statement – “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love” – is arguably the thesis statement for all of Paul’s theology.

Faith vs. Belief: A Crucial Distinction

Many of us equate faith and belief. “I believe in God” sounds the same as “I have faith in God.” However, the Scriptures present a crucial distinction. As James (often thought to be at odds with Paul, but in truth, complementing him) says, “You believe that there is one God? Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.” (James 2:19 NIV)

This tells us that mere intellectual assent or acknowledgment of God’s existence isn’t enough. The difference, I believe, lies in trust. Faith, in its biblical sense, is an act of trust.

Consider the famous story of the tightrope walker at Niagara Falls. After performing incredible feats, he asks the crowd, “Do you believe I can carry someone across?” They all shout, “Yes!” Then he asks, “Who will get on my shoulders?” The laughter that ensues reveals the gap: they believed he could do it, but they didn’t trust him enough to act on that belief. (Eventually, someone did, and he carried them across!) This illustrates the difference: belief is intellectual, while faith involves active trust.

God’s Faithfulness: The Foundation of Our Faith

Interestingly, in the Old Testament, you don’t see as much overt teaching about humanity’s need for faith. Instead, you see abundant examples of God’s faithfulness. The emphasis is on God’s unwavering commitment to His covenant promises and His people.

In the New Testament, however, particularly with Paul, the call for our faith is overwhelming. Why the shift in focus?

In the ancient world, people widely believed in deities. The question wasn’t if you believed in a god, but which god you would trust. In the New Testament era, many were expected to place their trust in the Roman Emperor or the power of Rome itself. For the Jewish people, the temptation was to trust in their adherence to the Law, their lineage, or outward religious practices like circumcision.

Paul argues against trusting in “the flesh” – human effort, religious rituals, or any external display. He reminds us that all human attempts to earn righteousness fall short, as Romans states: “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23 NIV).

There is only one in whom we can truly trust: Christ. We can have faith in Him because He is God, and He has proven Himself perfectly faithful. His life, death, and resurrection demonstrate His unwavering commitment to His promises. The empty tomb is the ultimate proof of His faithfulness.

Faith Expressing Itself Through Love

This understanding of faith as trusting in Christ’s faithfulness changes everything. It means that our salvation isn’t based on what we do for God, but on what Christ has already done for us.

This is why Paul says circumcision or uncircumcision has no value. These are external actions, just as, if Paul were writing today, he might say:

Church attendance doesn’t count for anything.
Reading your Bible doesn’t count for anything.
The number of prayers you pray doesn’t count for anything.
How much you tithe doesn’t count for anything.
What you wear to church doesn’t count for anything.

None of these external actions, in themselves, count toward our righteousness. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.

These actions – church attendance, Bible reading, prayer, giving, serving – are not ways to earn God’s favor. Instead, they are the natural expressions of our faith through love. Because we trust in Christ, and because His love now pours out of us, we respond by worshipping, serving, and caring for others. We do these things not to gain something, but because they are the overflow of a heart transformed by faith in Christ. This is exactly what James means when he says, “I will show you my faith by my works” (James 2:18 NIV). Our works don’t save us; they demonstrate our saving faith.

What or Whom Are You Trusting In?

This week, I encourage you to wrestle with this question: What or whom are you trusting in?

Are you, like the Galatians, trusting in some outward action or personal effort to please God or feel saved? Or are you trusting in the unwavering faithfulness of Christ – in the perfect life, atoning death, and victorious resurrection of Jesus?

Remember Paul’s words: “For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.”

A Prayer for Trust

Heavenly Father, we thank You that we do not need to earn our way to heaven. We thank You that Christ was perfectly faithful, and because He was faithful, we can trust Him. We can indeed have faith in His faithfulness. So, Father, I pray that we would trust in no other thing, that we would trust in no other person, but that we would trust in Christ alone. Help us to understand what it means when Paul says, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” Amen.

What resonated with you most in this reflection on faith and trust? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

The audio of the message: Whispers of Grace - Faith (Galatians and Romans)

Whispers of Grace - Embracing the Cruciform Life

Sun, 01 Jun 2025 14:09:11 -0400

We’re deep into our “Whispers of Grace” series, and today we’re tackling a powerful, perhaps unsettling, concept: the cross. More specifically, we’re exploring cruciformity – the idea of being formed to the way of the crucifixion. Sounds terrible, right? Jesus himself said, “If you’re going to follow me, every day you have to take up your cross.” This doesn’t exactly align with the “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life” sales pitch many of us heard when we first started walking with Jesus.

How do “wonderful plan” and “take up your cross daily” go together? It’s a tough question, and one we need to wrestle with. Our focus this morning, as we journey through these 15 New Testament words of life, is on First and Second Corinthians.

The Foolishness of the Cross to Corinth

Paul’s letters to the Corinthians can pretty much be summarized as: “What the heck, guys?” Corinth was a city much like a mashup of Nashville and Las Vegas – a place where people were incredibly proud and arrogant about being Corinthians. They even started their own Olympic games because the actual Olympics weren’t good enough!

Paul writes to this prideful church, beginning in 1 Corinthians 1:18: “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.”

The Corinthians, who valued outward appearance and honor above all else, found the message of the cross deeply challenging. The cross itself was humiliating – a brutal, shameful way to die. The Romans perfected crucifixion not just as a means of execution, but as a public display of power and a tool of shame. Victims were often naked, left to die of suffocation over days. This was designed to break a person from the inside out.

A Stumbling Block and Foolishness

To the Jews, the cross was a stumbling block. Death on a tree was considered unclean, and a dead Messiah was no Messiah at all. How could a Messiah who was “handled” by the Romans be the promised one? For the Gentiles, it was simply foolishness. Why would anyone follow a God who was so shameful and pathetic, who died like a loser?

But Paul turns worldly wisdom upside down. He asks, “What does real power, real strength, real wisdom look like?” We often imagine military might, conquering enemies, and domination. But Paul says, “Nope, it looks like a cross.” It appears shameful and weak, but from this position of weakness, God reveals true power – a power rooted in love.

Love, Sacrifice, and the Cross

Why did Jesus go to the cross? Out of love. It’s at the cross that we see justice, mercy, love, and grace all wrapped into one moment. God takes the shameful, weak things of this world and says, “Here is a new and better way.” Real power is rooted in love and found in places of weakness, powerlessness, and among the despised.

Paul reminds the Corinthians that when they were called to follow Jesus, they weren’t wise, influential, or of noble birth. They were “kind of losers” by worldly standards. Yet, even within the church, they began to recreate the very worldly hierarchies they experienced outside, leading to divisions and self-serving behavior.

This sounds familiar, doesn’t it? The church in America today often focuses on power and strength, trying to display it for the world. But we are called to be a cruciform faith, shaped by the cross, rooted in self-sacrificial love.

This is where 1 Corinthians 13 comes in. While often relegated to weddings, this chapter is the centerpiece of Paul’s letter, giving us a sense of what cruciformity looks like in action. Paul is essentially saying, “You need to live in light of the cross, embracing this upside-down way of living where power and wisdom look like worldly foolishness and weakness, and it’s all rooted in love.”

Love Never Fails

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 beautifully describes this cruciform love: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Where is this love rooted? How is it ultimately demonstrated by God? On the cross, through the self-sacrifice of Jesus. Love is a giving of ourselves, a self-sacrificial act that puts others before us.

The cross isn’t just a transactional thing – Jesus died for my sins, I pray a prayer, I go to heaven. While being saved and reconciled to God are part of it, the cross is a deeper, broader demonstration of what love truly looks like.

An Aroma of Life or Death

“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.” (1 Corinthians 1:18)

In 2 Corinthians, Paul speaks of carrying this message as either smelling like life or stinking like death. The message of self-sacrifice, of giving ourselves for the benefit of others, either attracts and draws people in or repels them completely. There is no middle ground.

To follow Jesus is to embrace a cruciform following. Our lives are to be changed and transformed by the reality of the cross. This means we are willing to put our comfort aside for others, to go to the margins, to walk alongside those on the outside looking in, and to give of ourselves. This is what taking up our cross daily looks like. It looks like the way of love described in 1 Corinthians 13.

Holding Love in Jars of Clay

2 Corinthians 4 reminds us that we hold these things in jars of clay – easily broken, easily showing the world this kind of love. My challenge for you this week is this: do you hold this gift of love in a jar of clay, readily displayed for all to see? Is your heart easily broken, cracked open with ease for people to experience this love, grace, and mercy? Or do you hold this love in a safe, hidden away, tied up in a desire to avoid shame and stay far from the fringes?

Do you hold this love in a jar of clay or a safe? What will you wrestle with this week?

A Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank You that Jesus showed us the way of love, that He demonstrated for us that love is costly, that love is ultimately rooted in this self-sacrifice on the cross. Father, we pray that we would be a people who holds this cruciform love in jars of clay, putting it on display for anyone who can see. Lord, would you help us to be a people who loves well, just like Jesus did on that cross? We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Listen to the full sermon here: Whispers of Grace - The Cross (1&2 Corinthians)

The Battle Lines Within - Understanding Our Tribal Instincts

Wed, 28 May 2025 09:30:00 -0400

“You’re either with us, or against us.” This sentiment has been expressed by countless world leaders throughout history.

What comes to mind when you hear that phrase? For me, it’s Joshua asking the “commander of the Lord’s army,” “Are you for us, or for our enemies?” Others might recall President George W. Bush or then-Senator Hillary Clinton using a similar phrase after 9/11.

Every fall in Michigan, there’s what’s known as “hate week.” This is the one week a year when families are pitted against each other. On one side, you have the Maize and Blue; on the other, the Green and White. The week of the Michigan/Michigan State football game is always marked by heightened tribal loyalty. There’s mostly good-natured teasing and many stories shared about past games. Nearly everyone chooses a side.

Loyalty and betrayal form the third set of moral foundations discussed by Jonathan Haidt.¹ He proposes that these moral “taste receptors”—similar to taste buds on our tongue—include:

Care/Harm
Fairness/Cheating
Loyalty/Betrayal
Authority/Subversion
Sanctity/Degradation
Liberty/Oppression

Haidt argues that these foundations operate within our minds, driving our emotional intuitions as we process the world. They function like emotional taste buds. The loyalty/betrayal foundation emerged from our need to discern which tribes were friends and which were enemies. This isn’t exclusively a human trait; scientists have observed it in other species, such as chimpanzees. As Haidt puts it, “We are the descendants of successful tribalists, not their more individualistic cousins.”²

Loyalty/betrayal appears to be another innate moral foundation that drives many of our emotional responses. To extend our taste bud metaphor, it’s a very strong flavor. Loyalty to our in-group provides us with pleasure, security, and connection. It drives values like patriotism and self-sacrifice. To succeed in the world, we need to form connections with others. Identifying with a particular group helps facilitate these connections.

Sports offers a clear illustration of the loyalty/betrayal foundation. When our team wins, we experience a sense of “winning,” even if all we did was sit on a couch or stand in a bar. Our cheering and support offered nothing to their success, yet when they win, we feel victorious. The next time you’re with a sports fan, listen carefully. They will almost certainly speak of their favorite team in the first person. This demonstrates how deeply we identify with our sports tribe. When fans of rival teams engage with each other, it usually involves banter. Sometimes, however, their passions can escalate to physical violence. In English Football, there are many games where visiting team fans are separated from home team fans by police.

The passions of fans are intense!

This is just sports, which, in the grand scheme of things, is utterly meaningless.

When we start discussing loyalty/betrayal in terms of politics and religion, we see the full force of our tribal identities. Religious and political loyalties cut to the heart of our individual identities, tying us deeply to others who claim the same affiliations.

These days, in particular, there’s a strong and clear sense of “us” and “them.” In the United States, we have “Red people” and “Blue people.” We have people who are “blue specs” in a sea of “red” and vice versa. Many people no longer primarily share a common identity of “American”; instead, they are finding their primary identity as “Democrat” or “Republican.” Even within each of those two major categories, there are more pronounced subcategories that create even stronger loyalty/betrayal bonds.

People who are not loyal to “our team” are often viewed as morally repugnant. If you speak with a Democrat, they may explain how Republicans are not just wrong on an issue but a threat to the fabric of society. If you sit down with a Republican, they may explain why Democrats are morally corrupt. Both view the other as evil. Both see the other as betraying their country and even morality.

When we feel betrayed, we experience emotions opposite to those of loyalty. Instead of pleasure, security, and connection, we feel anger, fear, and isolation. This drives us deeper into our tribe, prompting us to demonstrate our loyalty and find others who reciprocate it. By doing so, we can regain feelings of pleasure, security, and connection. Eventually, we may simply remove those people from our lives whom we feel have betrayed us. This, obviously, leads not to deeper connection but to greater isolation and the development of silos of perspective.

As I’ve considered how loyalty/betrayal plays out in my own life, I find that it is often leveraged to manipulate me. I’ve discovered that I have a very strong sense of loyalty/betrayal. This is rather obvious to anyone who talks sports with me (don’t even get me started on the Colorado Avalanche or Ohio State). As a result, I can easily fall into an “us vs. them” dynamic in various areas of my life. This means I have to be on my guard to avoid seeing people who hold different political or religious identities as “evil.” This doesn’t mean that all positions are equal or good. What it means is that I need to be careful not to identify the person as being evil.

Robust and civil conversation can take place between people across tribal commitments when we don’t allow our sense of loyalty/betrayal to manipulate our emotions. This means we need to take a beat and try to recognize that there is, in a very real sense, no “us” or “them,” but only a “we.” As I journey down this road, I find that I am trying to step back from certain tribal loyalties to see a bigger picture. To truly wrestle with what it looks like to hold broader and broader loyalty as opposed to narrower and narrower ones. By doing so, I find that my emotions are manipulated less, and I can be a bit more loving toward those with whom I disagree.

Haidt, Jonathan. The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. New York: Pantheon, 2012. p 146 ↩︎
ibid, p 162 ↩︎

Living Life to the Full

Sun, 25 May 2025 15:17:40 -0400

This week, as we approach Memorial Day, our New Testament “word of life” is simply life. It’s fitting, perhaps, that as we honor those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom, we also reflect on what it truly means to live. While it might seem strategic to drop the word “life” on the Sunday before Memorial Day, sometimes, the divine calendar just works out!

Memorial Day is a complex day, isn’t it? It’s solemn, as we remember profound sacrifice, yet also a time of quiet rejoicing, knowing that lives were given so we might live freely and fully. This annual observance reminds us that life is costly and demands much from us.

Life in the Gospel of John

When we turn to Scripture, particularly the Gospel of John, the concept of life permeates every page. John, in my opinion, has one of the best openings of all the Gospels:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made, without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

Life drips from every passage in John, and Jesus, more than anyone else, embodies it. John’s Gospel brings Jesus to life, capturing His vibrant personality and memorable “quips and one-liners.” It’s likely because John, the “beloved disciple,” offers an insider’s perspective. He even playfully needles Peter in the Easter narrative, noting “the other disciple got there first!” John’s unique account gives us an intimate look at Jesus, especially during His intense final week.

The Meaning of Life: Beyond the Physical

We live in a time of constant discussion about life. From political debates about the “right to life” to philosophical conversations about “life’s purpose,” it’s clear that human beings instinctively know life is more than just a physical existence. We recognize there’s an emptiness to life that physical well-being or material wealth can’t fill. This is precisely why John’s Gospel, with its deep interest in life, resonates so strongly.

In John 10:1-21, Jesus speaks of Himself as the Good Shepherd. My favorite verse in this passage, and possibly in the entire Bible, is John 10:10, where Jesus declares:

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.“1

The Greek word for life here is “zoe,” which encompasses physical, spiritual, and eternal life. It’s the very essence of what we carry with us, a reminder that our life is interconnected in these dimensions.

Life to the Full: An Abundant Reality

Jesus’ desire for His followers is that they have life to the full. Imagine a glass so brimming that the liquid rises just above the rim, held in place by surface tension – that’s “full.” This is the abundant, overflowing life Jesus wants for us.

Yet, many of us, as followers of Jesus, seem to believe the Christian life is boring – a rigid list of dos and don’ts, a constant fear of being “bad.” We often appear joyless and sad, like the church people in the movie Amistad who sang hymns like dirges. This isn’t the life Jesus calls us to.

Jesus’ life was anything but dull. His first miracle in John’s Gospel was turning water into the “good stuff” wine at a wedding! He wasn’t hiding in a “holy huddle.” He was “in the world,” actively engaged, and that’s where He calls us to be. We are to live fully, not by getting lost in worldly excess, but by participating in life, by being present, by enjoying God’s creation.

When we cling to self-imposed rules and hide in fear of crossing an imaginary line, we are, in essence, telling Jesus we don’t trust Him as our Good Shepherd. We’re saying we don’t believe He’ll protect us from the “wolves” outside the pen. This doesn’t make us look “super Christian”; it makes us look fearful and distrustful of His power within us.

Living as Life-Bearers

Jesus wants us to live adventurously, to do new things, meet new people, serve, love, and care for others. Christians throughout history have exemplified this, from those who served in leper colonies to those who continue to do hard, selfless work in the world today. This is what it means to live life to the full – to be so secure in our Shepherd’s protection that we can fearlessly step out and engage with the world.

We are called to be life-bearers, carrying the light of Christ within us, not hiding it “under a bushel.” We are to display love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control for the world to see, knowing that our righteousness comes from Christ, not from our own efforts to protect it.

A Challenge for Reflection

This week, I challenge you to reflect: Are you truly living life to the full? Are you trusting our Good Shepherd to protect you, or are you hiding in fear? We are meant to be in the world, not of it, demonstrating the vibrant, abundant life Christ came to give us.

A Prayer:

“Father, we thank You that Jesus has come to show us a life well lived, a life of meaning and purpose. Now, He has given us this life to live to the full. Help us to be a people who go out into the world, unafraid, knowing we have a Good Shepherd who protects us from the wolves. May we live fully, demonstrating to the world what love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control look like, so that we might show the world the light of Christ. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

You can listen this week’s message here: Whispers of Grace - Life (John)

Fairness: The Unseen Force Driving Our Emotions

Wed, 21 May 2025 11:30:00 -0400

“That’s not fair!”

“You’re cheating!”

How often have parents heard these declarations from their children? There’s an innate human drive toward fairness.

I love baseball. In my opinion, it’s the best sport. I can’t find anything about it I don’t like. As my friends often say, “How can you not be romantic about baseball?” This phrase perfectly captures the magic of the game for me. Each at-bat is a game in itself, every half-inning its own contest. Each game demands that both teams achieve the required number of outs; there’s no time limit or mercy rule.

Over the years, I’ve come to realize that fairness is at the heart of baseball. The rules and scoring are meticulously designed around this idea. Consider the distinction between a batter getting a hit versus reaching base on an error. This difference is crucial. If it’s a hit, the hitter benefits statistically, and the pitcher’s stats are negatively impacted. If it’s an error, the pitcher benefits statistically, and the hitter is penalized (receiving a statistical out even though they reached base).

There’s even a rule called the “infield fly” rule, specifically designed to prevent the defensive team from tricking the offensive team into a triple play on a routine pop-up in the infield. Baseball, at its core, is all about fairness.

When baseball players are found to be cheaters they face severe penalties. Whether it’s a pitcher doctoring a baseball or a hitter corking a bat, discovery leads to ejection and often suspension. More egregious “sins,” like steroid use or betting, frequently result in lifetime bans. Baseball goes to great lengths to protect the fairness of play. One could argue that fairness is a fundamental principle of the sport.

The Moral Foundation of Fairness/Cheating

Fairness/Cheating is the second set of moral foundations discussed by Jonathan Haidt. He proposes that these moral “taste receptors”—similar to taste buds on our tongue—include:

Care/Harm
Fairness/Cheating
Loyalty/Betrayal
Authority/Subversion
Sanctity/Degradation
Liberty/Oppression

Haidt argues that these foundations operate within our minds, driving our emotional intuitions as we process the world. They function like emotional taste buds. ¹

The concept of fairness/cheating arises from the development of “altruism.” We often think of altruism as selfless acts performed without expectation of return. While it sounds and feels pleasant to experience, true altruism likely doesn’t exist in the way we commonly perceive it.

Social psychologists suggest that altruism develops in species with memory. The recipient of an altruistic act remembers the good they’ve received, and the giver, often subconsciously, expects some form of reciprocity. This is particularly true in relationships with non-kin. While we see something closer to pure altruism in kin relationships, altruistic behavior toward non-kin tends to cease if it’s never reciprocated. Why? Because we possess an innate sense of fairness. If someone consistently fails to reciprocate kindness, we feel they are taking advantage of us—they are cheating. They benefit from our generosity without contributing in return.

For example, if I regularly lend my neighbor my lawnmower, but they always refuse when I ask to borrow their trimmer, any rational person would feel taken advantage of and consider their behavior unfair.

Differing Perspectives on Fairness

Our understanding of what constitutes fairness/cheating varies based on the sum total of our emphasized moral foundations. This difference in understanding can make it challenging for people to comprehend one another’s perspectives.

Haidt provides a helpful illustration in the realm of politics.² Someone with a politically left perspective often views extreme wealth as fundamentally unfair. They observe hardworking individuals struggling financially while the wealthy possess more than they need. To them, it seems fair that the wealthy could easily pay more in taxes to assist those in need, remaining comfortable themselves. This perspective is reinforced by the belief that much wealth is accumulated through the labor of the working poor. For the person on the left, it’s inherently unfair for people to work hard and still face financial hardship.

Conversely, a person with a politically right perspective often sees wealth as earned through hard work and ingenuity. For them, taking what someone has rightfully earned and giving it to those who haven’t worked as hard, aren’t as inventive, or haven’t taken similar risks, is fundamentally unfair. They believe the wealthy create jobs and opportunities for others, and what they’ve earned is rightfully theirs. Taking from them to give to people who haven’t earned it is simply not fair.

As you read these scenarios, you likely felt an emotional response. Perhaps you argued with the paragraph you disagreed with and thought “obviously” in response to the one you agreed with.

This illustrates how the fairness taste receptor can lead to two fundamentally different emotional responses to an issue. When faced with an issue like taxation, both the left and right may cry, “That’s not fair!” When we perceive something as fundamentally unfair, we tend to label the other party as a “cheater,” and as a result, we may experience them as morally repulsive. Who wants to be in a relationship with a cheater? Who can trust a cheater? Is it even possible to find common ground with a cheater?

Bridging the Gap

I’m actively working to understand the different perspectives on fairness held by my friends. I’m finding that if I can identify what they consider fair, I can begin to bridge our positions. This, of course, requires understanding my own perceptions of fairness/cheating, which is challenging because these moral foundations are like the air we breathe—invisible yet essential. Emotional triggers that signal we are navigating the fairness/cheating landscape include anger, gratitude, and guilt. When one of these emotions surfaces, I try to take note and ask myself, “How is fairness being impacted here?”

The next time you’re discussing with someone who holds a different perspective, try to identify how fairness/cheating plays a role in your differing views. It just might create a bridge toward greater understanding and deeper relationships.

Haidt, Jonathan. The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. New York: Pantheon Books, 2012. p. 146. ↩︎
Ibid., pp. 159-160. ↩︎

Whispers of Grace - Forgiveness (Luke-Acts)

Sun, 18 May 2025 14:19:20 -0400

It’s a universally good feeling to be forgiven. We’ve all been there: that pit-in-your-stomach dread after you’ve messed up, the fear that a relationship might be over. But then you take that deep breath, make the call, own your mistake, and ask, “Will you please forgive me?” The moment hangs in the air, seemingly forever, until that sweet release: “Of course, I forgive you.” What an unbelievable feeling!

But here’s the flip side: How many of us genuinely like to forgive? Not many. We love to be forgiven, but we don’t necessarily like to give forgiveness. This often comes up in conversations among Christians, where the immediate reaction is, “If we just forgive people, we’ll become doormats!” Or, “Where’s the justice in that? These people wronged us; they need to be held accountable!” We invent all sorts of reasons to avoid forgiving, clinging to our grudges, even as we crave the grace of being forgiven ourselves.

This leads to the question: Why do we love to be forgiven but dislike forgiving? I believe the root of it is a fundamental misunderstanding of grace.

The God of Forgiveness

There’s a popular misconception that the God of the Old Testament was angry and judgmental, while the God of the New Testament is loving and gentle. This paints a picture of two different deities. But this isn’t what the Old Testament portrays. Consider Psalm 130:

“Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you. I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.”

This psalm makes it clear: If God held our sins against us, none of us could stand. We are all imperfect. Yet, the Psalmist declares, “With you, God, there is forgiveness,” rooted in His unfailing love. The God of the Old Testament is consistently portrayed as slow to anger, abounding in love, mercy, and compassion—a God who redeems and forgives, knowing His people will fall short. His nature is consistent from beginning to end: a God of grace, mercy, compassion, and forgiveness.

Even before Jesus walked the earth, the Psalmist expressed absolute confidence in God’s redemptive power: “He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.” There’s no “if, ands, or buts.” It’s a certainty, rooted in His unfailing love. The popular notion of an angry, spiteful Old Testament God is a myth. Psalm 130 reveals the truth: an unfailing love, a willingness to redeem, and abundant forgiveness.

Forgiveness in the Gospels

The Gospel of Luke, in particular, is rich with the theme of forgiveness. Luke, being a physician, focused on healing—and forgiveness heals our souls and relationships. That’s why you see forgiveness woven throughout his Gospel, and in his second book, Acts, you see the transformative power of a forgiven people spreading grace and mercy like wildfire. This is all thanks to Jesus, who demonstrated ultimate love and forgiveness through His self-sacrifice.

Luke Chapter 15 contains three parables: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son (often called the Prodigal Son). What’s crucial to understand is that these parables aren’t primarily about the lost item or person; they’re about the searcher. It’s the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine for the one, the woman who diligently searches for her lost coin, and the father who waits at the end of the road for his son to return.

The context of these parables is vital. Jesus is surrounded by tax collectors and sinners, while the Pharisees and teachers of the law—the “religious folks”—mutter in disgust: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” They’re sour-faced, arms crossed, whispering, “Can you believe it?” This is the audience Jesus addresses with these stories.

The Prodigal Son: A Deeper Look

In the parable of the lost son, the younger son demands his share of the estate, essentially telling his father, “You’re dead to me. Give me my inheritance; I’m leaving.” This isn’t a polite financial request; it’s a severing of the relationship. Yet, with unbelievable grace, the father divides his property. If we were counseling this father, we might advise a tougher stance. But this father’s overwhelming grace is astounding.

The son squanders his wealth, ends up feeding pigs (an abhorrent task for a Jew), and longs to eat their food. He comes to his senses and decides to return, planning to say, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants.” Is he genuinely repentant, or manipulative? The text is ambiguous.

But while the son is still a long way off, his father sees him. How? Only if the father was constantly searching, scanning the horizon for his son’s return. The father runs to him, embraces him, and kisses him before the son even finishes his rehearsed speech. The father doesn’t even respond to the son’s plea; he immediately calls for a celebration: “My son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

The father’s grace never stops. His forgiveness is always present, always flowing.

The Older Brother: The Reluctance to Forgive

The older brother, however, is out in the field, working. When he hears music and dancing, he learns his brother has returned and his father is celebrating. He becomes angry and refuses to go in. When the father pleads with him, the older brother complains: “All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders, yet you never gave me a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”

The older brother feels cheated. He fails to understand that the father had already given him everything: “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” The older brother’s focus is on what he deserves because of his “good” behavior. He sees life as a transaction. He doesn’t want to forgive because, in his mind, the younger brother doesn’t deserve it. Forgiveness, in his view, undermines justice.

But this is not how forgiveness works. For-giveness is freely offered. It’s amazing grace rooted in the father’s boundless love. The younger son had nothing to offer for that forgiveness; there was no transaction. It was overwhelming, undeserved grace.

Repentance and Restoration

Forgiveness is connected to repentance, which simply means a change of direction. The younger son changed course, turning 180 degrees back to his father. The father was ready to receive him because forgiveness is not transactional; it’s about renewing and restoring relationships. It’s not merely a legal declaration of “debt paid.” The lost coin is restored to the woman, the lost sheep to the herd, and the lost son to his loving father.

Jesus is speaking directly to the Pharisees and teachers of the law (the older brother) and the tax collectors and sinners (the younger son). Many of us, as “good religious people,” are often like the older brother. We struggle with the idea that “really bad people” also receive forgiveness. We might think, “They haven’t changed enough,” or “They don’t deserve it.” We have our own “that group of people” in our minds—those we deem unforgivable.

But if we are truly to understand and receive our own forgiveness, we must become a people who extend it. We know the grace and forgiveness we have received, yet we quickly become the older brother, forgetting the very nature of our forgiving God.

A Challenge for This Week

This week, reflect on the forgiveness you have received. Let your heart be deeply moved by the boundless grace extended to you by a God of unfailing love, a God with whom there is forgiveness, a God who will redeem and restore you.

Then, wrestle with this question: Who, in your mind, absolutely cannot be forgiven? Who hasn’t earned it, doesn’t deserve it, or is beyond God’s love?

It’s a challenging introspection, and often, we find ourselves mirroring the older brother, quickly forgetting the very nature of our forgiving God.

A Prayer:

Heavenly Father, we thank you for your grace and forgiveness—a forgiveness that is not a simple transaction, not merely an accounting of debts, but a complete restoration of relationship. Father, help us to be moved by the overwhelming sense of your grace and mercy through forgiveness so that, unlike the older brother, we might run into the party to celebrate our younger brother who was dead and is now alive. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Would you like to listen to this sermon? Here’s the link: Whispers of Grace - Forgiveness (Luke-Acts)

Whispers of Grace - Gospel

Sun, 11 May 2025 14:54:46 -0400

We’re journeying through our series, “Whispers of Grace,” exploring 15 pivotal New Testament words. Our guide is a fantastic, accessible little New Testament theology book by Dr. Nijay Gupta titled “15 New Testament Words.” If you want to read ahead, I highly recommend grabbing a copy – it’s an encouraging and insightful read. As I explored it a few months ago, I knew this was material we had to delve into, especially for the summer, to grasp these significant concepts within the New Testament and their Old Testament roots. We’re discovering these aren’t just New Testament ideas, but Bible-wide, people-of-God themes.

Last week, we discussed righteousness. This week, we turn to another profound word: gospel.

More Than Just a Church Word?

Outside the church, “gospel” isn’t a word you hear too often these days. You might hear someone say, “It’s the gospel truth,” meaning it’s absolutely true. Or perhaps your mind jumps to “gospel music,” which remains a significant cultural force. Some theater enthusiasts might even think of the musical “Godspell.” But largely, “gospel” tends to reside within church walls.

I grew up hearing the word in church – the four Gospels, the Gospel reading. It was just part of the “Bible furniture” to me; I never realized “gospel” itself meant something more. My first conscious introduction to its deeper meaning came in college through Campus Crusade for Christ. Then, “the gospel” became synonymous with a little yellow booklet: The Four Spiritual Laws. I was all in, sharing that booklet with everyone. To this day, I can recite it:

God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life.
Man is sinful and separated from God.
Jesus Christ is God’s only provision for man’s sin. Through Him, you can know and experience God’s love and plan for your life.
We must individually receive Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.

“This,” I thought, “is the gospel.” Then I went to seminary, and it turned out… that’s not quite the whole story.

The “Good News” According to Mark (and Caesar?)

Let’s turn to the Gospel of Mark. In chapter 1, verses 14 and 15, we read:

“After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. ‘The time has come,’ he said. ‘The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!’” (Mark 1:14-15, NIV)

But Mark’s Gospel doesn’t start there. It begins, perhaps unsurprisingly, at verse one:

“The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1, NIV)

We see “good news” right at the start, and then Jesus himself proclaims this “good news,” linking it to the nearness of God’s kingdom.

The Greek word translated as “good news” is euangelion (εὐαγγέλιον). It’s a fun word to say! It’s where we get terms like “evangelical,” “evangelism,” and “evangelist.” We often use “evangel” directly from Greek, but since most don’t know Greek, it gets translated as “good news.”

Now, you might think Christianity coined this term. We didn’t. Nor did we invent the Greek language! Euangelion was already part of the lingua franca – the common language – of the day. In our world, English is largely the lingua franca. Back then, it was Greek. That’s why the New Testament, a collection of texts from a Middle Eastern religion where Aramaic and Hebrew were spoken, was written in Greek. If you wanted to engage with the wider world, you spoke Greek.

And euangelion simply meant “good news.” Imagine a couple announcing the birth of their child: “Euangelion! The baby is here!” They might have even held it up, Lion King style!

Here’s where it gets really interesting: we Christians didn’t just adopt the word; we subverted its common imperial usage. In the first century, euangelion was heavily used in relation to Caesar. When Rome’s armies won a battle, bringing the Pax Romana (the peace of Rome – which often meant “submit or die”), the report of Caesar’s victory was the euangelion of Caesar. Inscriptions from that era, still visible today, proclaim things like: “The euangelion of Augustus Caesar, the Son of God, the Savior of the world who brings peace to all nations.”

Sound familiar? Compare that to Mark 1:1: “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God.” Mark is making a bold statement: Caesar has his “good news,” but we have our good news, and our King is better than your king.

Consider Mark 1:14 again: “After John was put in prison…” Who imprisoned John? Herod, a puppet king for Caesar. Jesus then enters Galilee proclaiming the “good news of God,” not of Caesar. He declares, “The time has come. The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news.” This was a direct challenge, a subversion of Rome and worldly powers. Jesus is saying God’s kingdom is here, now. Things need to change.

What First-Century Ears Heard

When we hear “good news” today, many Christians think of something like the Four Spiritual Laws. But in first-century Galilee, a Jewish area, they weren’t thinking of a four-step plan. Their minds would have leapt to passages like Isaiah 52:7:

“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” (Isaiah 52:7, NIV)

Paul picks up this language in Romans 10. When Jesus spoke of “good news,” He was tapping into this deep prophetic tradition of God making good on His covenant promises. God had promised, “I will be your God, and you will be my people. I will take care of you forever.” (My paraphrase, of course!). He promised that even after disobedience and exile, a remnant would be redeemed, and David’s throne would have an eternal occupant.

So, when people heard Jesus say, “Repent and believe the good news,” they thought:

God is fulfilling His promises!
A king from David’s line will take the throne!
We’re going to be redeemed!
Exile is finally, truly over!
Let’s go!

They envisioned true peace – not the Pax Romana, but the peace of God. Jesus was the one with beautiful feet, bringing this ultimate good news. They anticipated a practical, even military, overthrow of Rome, with God’s people back in charge.

And then, this guy got himself crucified.

Beyond Formulas and Hell Insurance

This was a shock. Clearly, Jesus wasn’t talking about that kind of kingdom. It took time to understand that God’s faithfulness to His covenant promises wasn’t about worldly power, but a deeper reality.

When Jesus spoke of good news and the redemption of all things, He wasn’t just talking about a restored earthly kingdom. Nor was He merely talking about “hell insurance,” which is, unfortunately, how many of us have come to view it – say a prayer, and you’re good to go.

That’s not the fullness of the good news. The good news is God being faithful to His covenant promises. It is God redeeming all things. It is God coming and setting all things right, much like we discussed with righteousness. It’s about fixing and redeeming everything.

This includes:

Restored and redeemed relationships.
Dealing with sin.
Ensuring we don’t spend eternity separated from God.

But these are slices of a much bigger pie. The gospel encompasses how we care for the poor, the immigrant, the marginalized. It’s how we love our enemies and our neighbors (who are often one and the same!). That’s gospel. Christ came proclaiming peace. He lived a perfect life, showing perfect human covenantal faithfulness (possible because He is God). God looks at Christ and affirms this mutual faithfulness, and through it, all is redeemed. The kingdom is drawing near.

I remember being in a Bible study where the pastor asked, “How do you define grace?” Being a somewhat cocky Campus Crusade staffer, I replied, “Unmerited favor.” He affirmed, “That’s right.” And then he pushed: “And what’s so amazing about that?”

You see, we’ve often reduced the gospel, like grace, to formulas and definitions. But the good news that makes you proclaim “The kingdom has come!” isn’t a bland recipe. It’s not four steps. It’s the kind of news that inspires songs like “Amazing Grace.” It is the redemption of all things – the undoing of all messiness, brokenness, and sickness. It’s the wiping away of every tear. It is God affirming, “I am faithful. Even when you are not, you are My people, I am your God, and I will be with you always.” This is the good news Jesus proclaimed.

What is the Gospel to You?

So, my challenge to you this week is to wrestle with this word “gospel.”

Is it just an adjective for you – “gospel truth,” “gospel music”?
Is it merely a set of instructions, a four-step process to avoid hell?
Or is the gospel truly good news that changes everything? That redeems everything?
Is it news that subverts the entire world, flips everything upside down, and leaves you slack-jawed at God’s amazing deeds, whispering, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound”?

The gospel is all of it. It runs deep. It is the profound evidence of our God’s faithfulness because He loves us and declares, “You will be my people, and I will be your God.”

A Prayer:

Heavenly Father, I pray that we would be a people for whom the gospel is truly good news. May it be the good news that demonstrates Your covenant faithfulness, thereby redeeming and restoring all things. May it subvert the structures of this world and bring a peace that transcends all understanding. Father, I pray that we might be overwhelmed by the gospel, by this incredible good news. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Listen here: Whispers of Grace - Gospel (Mark)

Our Tender Nerves - The Power of Care and Harm in Moral Judgment

Wed, 07 May 2025 16:46:39 -0400

Why do we respond to things the way we do? How do we experience the world? Jonathan Haidt, a moral psychologist, argues that we possess six “taste receptors” that shape how we perceive the world around us¹. These six foundations, and the varying degrees to which we experience each, influence our understanding.

Our moral taste receptors include: Care/Harm, Fairness/Cheating, Loyalty/Betrayal, Authority/Subversion, Sanctity/Degradation, and Liberty/Oppression. Haidt posits that all of these operate within our minds, driving our emotional intuitions as we process the world. They function similarly to taste buds, but for our emotions.

Consider this: some people love the taste of cilantro, while others find it soapy and disgusting. The taste receptors on their tongues provide drastically different feedback for the same herb. Moral taste receptors function in a similar way. While all are present, each of us will have different ones that are more dominant. These foundations develop from adaptive challenges that must be overcome. Consequently, there are triggers that evolve from original to current contexts, characteristic emotions associated with each, and virtues that develop as a result. (NOTE: I won’t reiterate the studies and depth Haidt explores in his book. If this topic intrigues you, I encourage you to read The Righteous Mind.)

Let’s explore the Care/Harm foundation. Each moral foundation has an “adaptive challenge” that contributed to its development in our perception of the world. This first foundation is rooted in the need to care for and protect children. Unlike many other species, mammalian and particularly human offspring are helpless at birth, unable to fend for themselves for several years. Therefore, we developed a moral foundation centered on caring for children and protecting them from harm.

Initially, in the pre-modern world, the trigger for this care/harm foundation was primarily related to the needs of our own children. However, as societies in the West progressed beyond subsistence levels into relative prosperity, our children are generally well-cared for at a fundamental level. As a result, we now experience new triggers, such as witnessing harm to defenseless animals. The core emotion that develops is compassion, and consequently, caring and kindness become primary virtues.

Individuals with a well-developed Care/Harm moral foundation are more readily moved by witnessing harm in the world. They are often emotionally affected by the pain they observe, even when it doesn’t directly impact them or their families. We all know people who become teary-eyed during commercials depicting suffering children in Africa or when watching reports from war-torn nations. Caring and kindness are virtues of paramount importance to them.

They feel the pain of others deeply, which motivates them to compassionate action on behalf of those whose pain they perceive as unwarranted. This also creates a sense of revulsion towards individuals they believe are perpetrating that harm.

We live in an age of profound interconnectedness, meaning we are aware of violence and suffering affecting far more people than previous generations. It is logical that this foundation is developing at an increasing rate in our world today. Simply put, you likely care about significantly more groups of people than your grandparents or great-grandparents did, and emerging generations will likely care about even more than our generation.

This Care/Harm moral foundation is a powerful motivator, often leveraged by those seeking power. Examining nearly any contentious political issue reveals how individuals on either side attempting to gain influence utilize this foundation to evoke our emotional responses, prompting us to donate money, volunteer time, and cast votes. While we may believe we are making logical and intellectual decisions to support them, our emotions are often driven by the desire to protect someone we perceive as being harmed.

People with differing political perspectives have their Care/Harm foundation activated in distinct ways. Consequently, they interpret the “facts” of any given issue very differently. When we witness harm occurring to someone we believe is unable to protect themselves, no amount of “facts” will change our deeply held beliefs.

Introduce religion into this dynamic, and you create a potent combination for individuals to hold deeply entrenched positions with limited capacity to even consider alternative viewpoints. This stems from the reality that their emotional connection rooted in Care/Harm has solidified their stance as morally correct, while the opposing view is perceived as immoral. Furthermore, beyond being immoral, the other position is often seen as evil because it is believed to actively cause and create harm with a complete lack of care.

Moral foundations typically operate outside our conscious awareness as we respond to the world. They are simply the environment we inhabit, and when someone points them out, we might perceive them as misguided or even aligned with the immoral, harm-inducing, evil side.

I am consciously trying to identify the issues that trigger my Care/Harm moral foundation. Typically, I only recognize it after a conversation has gone awry. A key indicator for me is when I leave a discussion thinking the other person is inherently evil and somehow enjoys causing harm. In such instances, I know the issue is rooted in my Care/Harm foundation, and therefore, I need to be even more deliberate in listening and adopting a curious stance towards that person.

There is a crucial caveat: when someone consistently inflicts actual harm on another, it is right, good, and necessary to intervene and stop that harm. However, I am learning that this occurs less frequently than I might initially believe. When I can quickly recognize that my sense of Care/Harm is driving my response, I can pause and try to understand how the other person interprets the same situation.

This same process will unfold with each of the other moral foundations. After exploring them individually, we can then attempt to draw some conclusions about the left/right political spectrum.

Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion (New York: Pantheon Books, 2012). ↩︎

Whispers of Grace - Righteousness

Mon, 05 May 2025 19:00:18 -0400

Matthew 21:28-32 Isaiah 9:1-7

We’re embarking on a new series called “Whispers of Grace,” drawing inspiration from the book 15 New Testament Words of Life by Nijay K. Gupta. This series will explore key New Testament concepts and connect them to the broader story of Scripture. This week, we’re diving into the word righteousness.

What comes to mind when you hear “righteousness”? Perhaps negative connotations like self-righteousness or those judgmental “holier-than-thou” types? Maybe you think of the Righteous Brothers? Or if you’re a child of the ’80s like me, maybe Ferris Bueller being called “one righteous dude” pops into your head.

The truth is, “righteousness” isn’t a word we use much in everyday conversation. It can sound religious, even a bit stuffy. Theologically, it can get bogged down in complex terms like the “great transaction”—the idea that Christ’s righteousness is imputed to us, covering our sin. But what does that actually mean for our lives?

In the Bible, two primary words capture this idea: the Hebrew word tzadik (prominent in the Old Testament, emphasizing the righteousness of God’s people) and the Greek word dikaiosyne (found throughout the New Testament). Righteousness is a fundamental concept in Scripture, one we can’t ignore.

To begin our exploration, let’s look at a story Jesus tells in Matthew 21:28-32:

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’

“‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.

“Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing.

“‘I will, sir,’ he answered, but he did not go.

“Which of the two sons did what his father wanted?”

“The first,” they answered.

Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.”

Jesus tells this straightforward parable after his authority is questioned by religious leaders. The answer is obvious: the son who initially refused but ultimately obeyed did his father’s will. Then comes the kicker: Jesus says tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom before the very religious people he’s addressing.

Think about that. He’s talking to those who went to the temple, believed in God, worshipped, offered sacrifices, tithed—all the “right” religious things. Sound familiar? We, the churchgoers, are often those very people. We do the religious stuff. Yet Jesus says, “You haven’t repented and believed. The sinners get it; you don’t.”

Why? Because righteousness isn’t about checking boxes. It’s not about reading your Bible for 15 minutes, praying for 15 minutes, giving your offering, attending church, and avoiding curse words. If that were righteousness, Jesus wouldn’t have needed to come. Plenty of people go through the motions of doing the “right” things.

The difference between the two sons lies in a heart transformation. Jesus highlights the contrast between those who initially reject God but then repent and believe, and those who outwardly affirm God but whose hearts remain unchanged, leading to inaction.

Biblical righteousness is about a transformation of the heart and soul. It’s about becoming people who reflect who Christ is. Interestingly, in the Old Testament, particularly in the Psalms, the words righteousness and compassion appear frequently side-by-side. This is striking because in our modern understanding, righteousness is often divorced from compassion. We tend to think of the righteous as those who point fingers and condemn, the opposite of compassionate.

Yet, throughout the Psalms, God’s righteousness and compassion are intertwined. To be righteous is to be compassionate, and to be compassionate is to be righteous. Jesus’s righteousness, as portrayed in Matthew, stems from the core of his being and moves him toward compassion.

Furthermore, righteousness isn’t just an individual pursuit; it’s also corporate. When a group of people hunger and thirst for righteousness, their collective actions will reflect that desire. Isaiah 9:6-7 speaks of the Messiah establishing his kingdom with justice and righteousness, a reign that has a communal and societal impact.

Matthew 25:31-46 gives us a glimpse of what this corporate righteousness looks like: caring for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned. Jesus equates these acts of compassion with serving him directly. This is how we, collectively, bring righteousness into the world—through acts of compassion and reconciliation.

Paul’s emphasis on the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control) further illustrates the evidence of inner righteousness manifesting outwardly. This often involves caring for those on the margins of society.

This isn’t a new concept. Even in the early church, as recorded in Acts, when the Gentile believers weren’t adhering to all the Jewish customs, the emphasis shifted from outward rituals to the inward work of the Holy Spirit, evidenced by their love and care for one another, including remembering the poor. Righteousness and compassion have always been two sides of the same coin in the Kingdom of God.

So, this week, I challenge you to consider: which son are you in Jesus’s parable? Are you quick to say you’re the first, the one who ultimately obeys? Perhaps you are. But are there still traces of the second son within you? If someone observed your life for a week, would they see love, compassion, and mercy, or would they see judgment and hypocrisy?

The truth is, many of us, myself included, often fall into the pattern of the second son. We profess one thing but fail to live it out consistently. This is a constant battle, a continuous submission to Christ. We haven’t arrived, and the journey toward righteousness is a lifelong one.

Let us ask God to reveal the areas in our lives where we resemble the second son. Let us strive to be those who not only hear God’s call but actively go into the vineyard, demonstrating his love and compassion to the world. For those who hunger and thirst for this kind of righteousness will indeed be satisfied.

A prayer:

Heavenly Father, thank you for sending Christ to transform us and make us new creations. We pray that our lives would reflect this reality, marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. May our righteousness be intertwined with compassion, reflecting your very nature to the world. In Jesus’ name, amen.

The Failure of Conversation

Thu, 01 May 2025 15:43:20 -0400

For a long time, I’ve noticed a disconcerting trend: we seem to be losing the ability to truly talk with one another. While the internet allows us to talk to, or more accurately at, people constantly, what about genuine dialogue?

I’m so grateful for the Tuesday night gathering I host, Tap Room Tuesday. It’s a space where I believe we often talk with one another. Yet, even there, meaningful dialogue is becoming increasingly challenging.

Why is this happening?

Why are we losing the ability to discuss meaningful topics with one another?

Reflecting on many Tuesday night discussions and online conversations I’ve participated in, a common thread emerges: it’s as if participants can’t even agree on a shared reality.

“Well, that’s what your source might say. I don’t think that’s true.”

This dismissive line could be a response to almost anything.

The term “alternative facts,” which began as a seemingly ridiculous statement by a press secretary in 2016, has unfortunately become a prevailing mindset.

Everyone seems to possess their own set of “alternative facts.” Consequently, meaningful conversation becomes nearly impossible when we can’t even agree on the basic facts of a situation. This challenge intensifies when discussing topics like religion, philosophy, politics, and morality.

Not long ago, there were foundational ways of understanding the world that could ground and connect most conversations, even across the ideological spectrum. However, that’s often no longer the case. The norm seems to be people talking past one another, or engaging in unproductive games where one side asks incessant, almost childish “why?” questions.

A few years ago, I read Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind. It was important then, and I believe it’s even more crucial now. In my opinion, this book gets to the heart of why our conversations and dialogues are currently so challenging.

So, over the next few weeks, I’ll be writing about the various concepts Haidt presents and exploring their connections to our current communication struggles. I hope this will be helpful for you, and I know it will certainly help me process these ideas further.

When Following Jesus Demands More Than We Imagined

Thu, 17 Apr 2025 10:43:22 -0400

Have you ever been in a position where you got more than you bargained for?

It seems to happen to me every single time I start a home improvement project. I am not what one would call, “handy”. No, I can barely tell the difference between a hammer and a screwdriver. Yet, I try to fix things because that’s the reasonable thing to do. I research how on YouTube and think, “I can do this!” Then, I get into it and realize that it is not as easy or straightforward as the YouTube Pro made it look.

This also happens when I get involved in volunteering for things. Often, I find that what I sign up for is significantly more involved than I anticipated. Nine times out of ten this is due to my own assumptions and not really paying attention to what was being asked of me.

In both scenarios I find that once I’m in, walking away seems to be unreasonable.

After Jesus taught about the need to unite one’s life with his, we get this conversation with the disciples:

On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?”
Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before! The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you—they are full of the Spirit and life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.”
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.
“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve.
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”
Then Jesus replied, “Have I not chosen you, the Twelve? Yet one of you is a devil!” (He meant Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, who, though one of the Twelve, was later to betray him.) John 6:60-70, NIV

The disciples were deeply challenged by the call to unite their lives with Jesus. They thought that they were following along with a Rabbi, a simple teacher. They could follow and learn and then perhaps they could in turn take what they learned and became rabbis themselves. But, this teaching to pursue union with Christ moving beyond simple table fellowship to a full union was more than they signed up for.

So, many left.

I think about the G.K. Chesterton quote often, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.” This is exactly the reason the disciples who left offered. The teaching was simply too hard.

I get the sense that Jesus was gobsmacked. He simply could not fathom that these people would not want to pursue this life in the Spirit united with him. How could they not want to enjoy this life eternal that he was offering them?

I appreciate that Jesus is at one level differentiated, from the extended number of disciples. While he was certainly disappointed and surprised, he also didn’t take their leaving personally. He acknowledges that what he is calling people to is something beyond the normal scope of affairs, such that only the Father could enable them to join him.

Yet, while he doesn’t respond with desperation he also acknowledges the sting in his question to the Twelve, “You do not want to leave too, do you?” I love that Jesus looks at his closest hoping beyond hope that they will stay with him.

Peter, though often maligned, absolutely seems to get it in his response. He knows that Jesus has the words of eternal life and so he speaks for the Twelve and declares they are with him because they have come to believe in his identity as “the Holy one of God.”

Following Jesus will give us more than we bargain. It is not easy to pursue union with Christ. As I consider my life and all the ways that I am utterly selfish and self-centered, I often wonder if I ever follow him. The way of Jesus is self-sacrificial. It is the way of the servant even in the midst of grief. It demands that I pursue a union of like-mindedness with Christ. As a result I have to set aside my own petty grievances, my small demands of vengeance, my own weak desires. I have to trade them for the words of eternal life that are rooted in the eternal sacrificial love of Christ.

Truly, this ideal is difficult, but where I else can I go? This Jesus has the words of eternal life and I have come to believe that he the Holy One of God.

Eating His Flesh – A Metaphor for Ultimate Commitment

Wed, 09 Apr 2025 15:10:38 -0400

One of the little pleasures in life for me is the NFL. Perhaps because the season is only sixteen games, but more likely because of the drama. The story lines every year are so fun and interesting that the off-field stuff is just as interesting, or sometimes more interesting, than the games themselves. A couple of years ago my favorite team, the Detroit Lions, was featured on a show called Hard Knocks.

Hard Knocks provides a behind-the-scenes look at a team during the preseason. It was so interesting to see all the hard work that goes into preparing for a season. The stories of the players who make the team or get cut are gripping.

There was one moment during the season that caught my attention above many others. The players were doing their warm-up calisthenics, and at one point the head coach, Dan Campbell, joined them, doing one of the most vile exercises known to man: the up/down. You are running in place with knees high, and at the sound of a whistle you drop down and do a push-up back to running in place. Campbell got on the line and did the up/downs with the team just like he was one of them. Every player on the team talks about how cool it is that he joined them. This is something that he does every year, and it resonates no less now than it did then.

There is something powerful about sharing together in suffering, even when it’s something as silly and meaningless as calisthenics.

As we wrap up this conversation between Jesus and the people he miraculously fed, we come across one of the weirdest things that Jesus said…

Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”
Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” He said this while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum. John 6:52-59, NIV

The people were wrestling with the meaning of Jesus’ telling them that they need to eat his flesh. They understood that he didn’t actually mean that they needed to take a bite out of him or stick a straw in his vein. This was obviously a metaphor. But what was it a metaphor of? What were they to make of it?

Jesus gives them the explanation that in doing so they would gain eternal life, that they would be raised at the last day, and that they would remain in him forever.

So what is going on here?

Some read into this exchange a picture of the communion table. I can understand the desire to do this because the imagery reflects the table so obviously. Yet, this doesn’t seem to fit the context.

I think that it is better to understand the imagery as an extension or a deepening of table fellowship. Jesus is calling people not simply to have fellowship with him but to identify or unite their lives to his life. This is not a call to share a table but to share a life.

When you are called to share a life, it is a commitment that goes beyond the surface. This sharing of life includes the good and the bad. It includes the glory and the suffering.

This is a radical extension of the table fellowship that the people of the day experienced. When you invited someone to your table, you were accepting them as family. Jesus isn’t inviting them to simply be family but, in a sense, to be one with him.

This is a level of commitment beyond the normal. It is no wonder that this would make people uncomfortable. Jesus was asking them to share their lives completely. Not many people, then or now, are willing to make that step.

Is there anything in your life that you’re willing to give yourself to wholly?

I think if we are honest, there is not much.

I suppose the question before me is this: “Am I willing to pursue union with Christ?”

The Apostle Paul writes it this way:

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.
In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death —
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:1-11, NIV

To be united with Christ is to change the way we live at a fundamental level.

Am I willing to live this way?

Breaking the Finite Lens

Thu, 03 Apr 2025 16:52:17 -0400

I am often struck by how small I think about Jesus. What about you?

Several weeks ago, I wrote the line, “Jesus is from eternity.” My son mentioned it to me and shared that it was one of the best descriptions of Jesus he had ever heard.

I keep thinking about that.

“Jesus is from eternity.”

Yet, I typically only think about Jesus in the here and now: How does Jesus deal with my immediate situation? How does Jesus save me? What is Jesus saying to me?

Me. Me. Me.

Certainly, there is something important about being present in the here and now. I struggle with not living in the moment. Typically, my thoughts run to the future. This is likely a significant reason why I struggle with contentment. It turns out, though, that in the midst of that struggle, there is another issue: an overwhelming self-centeredness. This self-centeredness draws everything back to me, even my understanding of who Jesus is and what he is about.

Consider this interaction between Jesus and the people at the Capernaum Synagogue:

At this the Jews there began to grumble about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They said, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I came down from heaven’?”
“Stop grumbling among yourselves,” Jesus answered. “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them, and I will raise them up at the last day. It is written in the Prophets: ‘They will all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard the Father and learned from him comes to me. No one has seen the Father except the one who is from God; only he has seen the Father. Very truly I tell you, the one who believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” John 6:41-51

Recall that Jesus has challenged them about being controlled by their bellies. He challenges them to eat the bread of life so that they will never go hungry again. They are responding to his statement that he has come from heaven. It doesn’t make sense because they know his parents. John likes to play with the two words for “know.” Here, he uses the word “οἶδα (oida),” which we might refer to as “head knowledge.” The people “knew” who Jesus’ parents were, but they didn’t “know” in the way of “γινώσκω (ginosko)” that John uses to describe how Jesus’ disciples come to know God. This second way of knowing is an intimate knowledge that goes beyond the head.

Jesus knew of their grumbling. They were missing the deeper reality because they were only understanding Jesus from a perspective of the here and now. They understood him in the only way they could. Jesus wants them to think and believe deeper. I think he wants them to try and see things from an eternal or infinite perspective.

In many ways, this whole passage is about the difference between the finite and the infinite.

The people were interested in the finite bread. Jesus wanted them to consider the infinite bread.

This bread, which was from heaven and was his very body, is Jesus, the embodiment of the infinite.

Jesus is from eternity. Jesus is infinite.

We can’t wrap our minds around this reality any more than the people at the synagogue could. At least, I can’t.

I wonder if we could begin to grasp what is meant by sharing with Jesus in this infinite game if we could begin to wrap our minds, hearts, and souls around the radical self-giving love that is offered in him?

If we believe in Jesus, then we are stepping into eternal life. We begin to share with him in his infinitude. The “Helper,” the Spirit, lives inside the one who believes. The Spirit is constantly calling us to look beyond the finite and into the infinite. There is no end to the grace, mercy, compassion, empathy, or love of Christ. The Spirit in us animates that reality through us.

As I consider this interaction with the people, I am deeply struck by my tendency to understand Jesus in a finite way, through the lens of what I think I know, just like them.

We likely do not think about Jesus through the lens of Joseph and Mary. No, we think about Jesus through the lens of other Christians we know or a lens about Christians we think we know. When we do this, we are missing the infinite reality of who Jesus is. Or perhaps we have graduated to thinking of Christ in terms of theology, doctrine, and confessions. Again, these are nothing more than finite games that are being applied to the infinite Christ.

I pray that I might grasp the infinite and eternal Christ. I pray that for you too.

Tasting the Infinite - Beyond Material Satisfaction

Sat, 29 Mar 2025 16:15:56 -0400

Do you ever think about where contentment comes from?

Better yet, do you ever think about contentment itself?

I’m not much of a thinker when it comes to contentment. Typically, I avoid thinking about it because it’s really convicting. If I’m honest, I’m not a very content person. More often than not, I’m chasing the next best thing. It’s one of my greatest weaknesses. When I read this little interaction between Jesus and the people he fed with the loaves and fish, I resonate with them…

So they asked him, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’”

Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

“Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe. All those the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away. For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all those he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.” John 6:30-40, NIV

A note: This conversation is actually quite long and spans over 34 verses! To do it justice, I’m going to reflect on it in chunks over multiple posts. This is the second part of the conversation. The first part is here: What Spoils? Rethinking Desire and Eternal Life

The audacity of these people asking for a sign! What do you mean you need a sign? The guy just fed some 20,000 people with five loaves and two fish. I think they might be responding to Jesus chastising them for chasing their full bellies instead of coming to him because they saw something miraculous. So, they say, “fine, show us a sign then!”

I’m just like them.

God provides, and I want more. It’s as if nothing is ever enough. I’m never content.

As I think about this lack of contentment, I wonder if it’s due to something similar to the people in this story. Do I really understand that material things will never truly satisfy me? Food, drink, stuff—all of these will eventually leave me wanting more. As I get more, it satisfies less.

C.S. Lewis writes in The Weight of Glory:

It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

He gets to the heart of it, I think. My inability to be content is not rooted in too much desire, but in a desire that is too weak, in that I don’t desire the better things. Jesus offers eternal life; we learn in John 17 that eternal life is to know God and Christ. I think the pursuit of this knowing is what ultimately will build in me a greater sense of contentment.

There is no end to the depths of Jesus, for he is eternal.

So, here I am, wrestling.

I wish I could tell you three steps to contentment or something equally simple. But, I don’t think there is anything that easy. It requires faithful perseverance in growing our relationship with God in Christ. It’s seeking to do his will, each and every day. What is that will? I think it can be most easily summarized in pursuing the fruit of the Spirit as outlined by Paul in Galatians 5:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other. Galatians 5:22-26, NIV

I often quote the fruit, but today it really struck me that Paul connects the pursuit of this fruit with the crucifying of the flesh with its passions and desires and ties that with envy. So, again, this is all tied to growing in contentment through keeping in step with the Spirit.

I hope that I can be a person who pursues these deeper desires. For in doing so, I might begin to experience a taste of the eternal right now.

What Spoils? Rethinking Desire and Eternal Life

Wed, 26 Mar 2025 11:55:00 -0400

Over the last year or so, I have been working on my personal fitness. This pursuit has been spiritual, emotional, relational, and physical. I intentionally try not to say “health” because that implies that at some point I will be “healthy.” That’s a finite game. I don’t want to play that game. I want to play an infinite game of pursuing fitness. I can always be more fit; there is infinite growth there.

As I pursue personal fitness, there is one question that I wrestle with more than any other: “Why do I do what I do?” The answer is elusive.

More often than not, I discover that the reason I do many things is one simple reason: comfort. This pursuit of comfort would have been known as being led by one’s stomach in the past. The stomach was understood to be the seat of desire. This makes sense when you consider a society that was, by and large, existing at a subsistence level. Even the very wealthy would be considered poor by today’s standards.

I avoid pain and discomfort as often as possible. Just the other day, I finished eating my meal. I knew that I was no longer hungry. But I was not ready to stop eating. It was hard to enter into the discomfort and stop. The act of eating is comfortable for me because I can control it.

Jesus has an interesting conversation about the stomach…

When they found him on the other side of the lake, they asked him, “Rabbi, when did you get here?”

Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For on him God the Father has placed his seal of approval.”

Then they asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?”

Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” John 6:25-29

A note: This conversation is actually quite long and spans over 34 verses! To do it justice, I am going to reflect on it in chunks over multiple posts.

The context for this conversation is that the people had just been miraculously fed by Jesus. There were likely 20,000 or more people who were fed with a handful of loaves and fish. They had all they wanted to eat, and afterward, there were twelve baskets of leftovers! These were people who lived life, actually and truly, wondering where their next meal would come from. So, to be able to eat to the full of not just bread but also fish was a remarkable experience.

You can’t blame them for wanting more!

Jesus doesn’t mess around in this conversation. Can you try to picture the interaction in your mind? (We learn at the end of the passage that this interaction took place at the synagogue in Capernaum.) The people drop a “Jesus, when did you arrive?” It almost has the sense of them trying to play it off like they would have come there anyway.

In my head, I see Ted Mosby from How I Met Your Mother trying to be nonchalant with Robin as he’s trying to walk back his quick, “I love you.”

Jesus isn’t buying it, and he challenges their motives. He knows that they chased him around the lake not for spiritual reasons but because they wanted their bellies filled again. He’s saying, “You’re being led by your stomach.” They want the material good that Jesus provided them, not the spiritual good that is more important.

Jesus wants them to see what is really going on here. That they can have something that is eternal and real. Do you remember his conversation with the woman at the well? It’s the same here, only now it’s food. He is offering them eternal life and doesn’t want them to miss it.

“Do not work for food that spoils.”

This pursuit of the temporal, the immediate, the material will ultimately let you down.

They respond, “Tell us how!”

The answer? Believe in the one that God has sent.

It is remarkable that we chase and chase after the things of this world that are fleeting. We so deeply desire stuff that ultimately spoils. Jesus challenges us to consider the reality that we can rest in him and, in so doing, receive something that never spoils, eternal life.

The Unexpected Joy of Overcoming Fear

Tue, 18 Mar 2025 11:54:31 -0400

Have you ever done something that you were afraid to do and then discovered that you actually enjoyed it?

This might sound a little silly, but I was really afraid to drive. I used to be afraid to drive go-karts, golf carts, and four wheelers. I distinctly remember the first time I was in a go-kart on my own and the fear was palpable. But, then after doing it, I realized that it was so much fun! If I had given in to the fear then I would have missed out on so much.

Throughout the Scriptures there is an oft-repeated phrase, “fear not.” In this brief conversation with Jesus that phrase pops up again…

When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, where they got into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. A strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were frightened. But he said to them, “It is I; don’t be afraid.” Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading. John 6:16-21, NIV

Jesus had just fed nearly 20,000 people and after doing so, he slips off to a mountain alone. The disciples then, for some reason, jump into a boat for Capernaum. Why? We don't know, but perhaps they assume that was where Jesus was going. Either way, they head out and as they do, one of the famous wind storms on the lake rises up. These storms still hit today and come on fast.

The disciples were rowing to get to shore as quickly as possible. All of a sudden they see Jesus walking on the water. John tells us that they were, “frightened.” Who wouldn’t be? There is a wind storm raging and then you see a guy walking on the water in the midst of the storm. I’d be frightened too!

Jesus simply says, “It is I; don’t be afraid.”

Then there is fascinating line, “Then they were willing to take him into the boat.”

Wait, what?

Read that again.

This seems to intimate that prior to Jesus speaking this, the guys were not going to let him into the boat. Fear was overwhelming them to the point that would not allow Jesus to get off the lake and into the boat. In some sense they were willing to let him drown, because of fear.

Fear is powerful.

The United Kingdom’s Mental Health Foundation did an evaluation of the “Psychiatric Morbidity Surveys,” and found that, “Fear is a feature of nearly all clinical mental health problems and is a root cause of some of the most common ones. As well as anxietydisorders themselves, fear is strongly associated with depression, psychosis, and attempting suicide in the past year. Fear is also strongly linked to poor physical health.¹”

As I look around our world, I see fear everywhere.

When we are driven by fear, we will find it almost impossible to love well. Conservatives fear liberals. Liberals fear conservatives. Christians fear non-Christians. Non-Christians fear Christians. The list could go on and on. Each side of the coin believes their fear to be rational and the other side irrational.

This is the very thing that fear does. It makes us distrust and despise other image bearers. When we give in to fear we end up viewing other human beings as less than or other.

When fear was gripping the disciples, Jesus’ friends, they would rather have him drown in the storm. Once fear was abated, they were willing to let him into the boat. When the fear was gone they could finally see Jesus for who he was.

Fear creates barriers to relationship and ultimately joy.

Who do you fear? What do you fear? Will you hear Jesus saying, “Don’t be afraid”?

“In the face of fear” accessed here on March 18, 2025: www.mentalhealth.org.uk/explore-m… ↩︎

When "Enough" Feels Impossible

Thu, 13 Mar 2025 16:29:21 -0400

Do you ever feel like you don’t have what it takes?

There are days when I wake up, consider the tasks before me, and think, “How can I possibly do this?”

Life is messy. It often feels like the world is on fire, and I’m armed with nothing but a nearly empty squirt gun. When I read the news, I see so much work that needs to be done. The world is so vast, yet I am so small. The problems in my neighborhood, my town, my state, my country, and the world are, at times, overwhelming.

There have been times in my life when, just looking at what’s happening within my own family, I don’t think I have what it takes.

This conversation Jesus had with his disciples resonates with me:

Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the signs he had performed by healing the sick. Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover Festival was near.
When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.
Philip answered him, “It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”
Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?”
Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.
When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.
After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, “Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world.” Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself. John 6:1-15, NIV

Could you imagine Jesus looking at you and saying, “Where can we buy food to feed more than 15,000 people?” (The text says 5,000 men; D.A. Carson, in the Pillar New Testament Commentary, suggests a number north of 20,000!) This was essentially nonsensical. Philip gives us a sense of how ridiculous this request was: “It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Not only that, but it would require wagonloads of bread, and finding a baker with that much bread in stock would be impossible.

Jesus asked something of his disciples that was impossible. They didn’t have what it takes.

Andrew, ever the problem solver, notices a boy with five loaves and two fish. This wouldn’t even have fed Jesus and the disciples, let alone 20,000 people!

Jesus asked the impossible.

He took what they had, gave thanks, and distributed it among the crowd. After everyone ate their fill, they had so much left over that they collected twelve baskets’ worth of bread.

Can you imagine? It’s no wonder the crowd wanted to make Jesus their king.

In a world where almost everyone wondered and worried about where their next meal would come from, here was a man who fed them to the full with almost nothing.

As I stare at this story and ponder it, I cannot escape the image of Jesus taking what little the disciples had and turning it into abundance. What did the disciples do? They simply offered what they had, and then Jesus went to work. They gave what they could. With Jesus, faithfully offering whatever you have is not just enough, but more than enough.

This conversation between Jesus and his disciples is a great reminder for me that my capacity at any given moment is not the point.

I’m reminded of something my dad told me before I got married. He said, “Son, marriage isn’t 50:50. It’s 100:100. Each person gives 100% of whatever they have at the moment.” This has been so significant for me over the years of my marriage. It removed any scorecard. Sometimes my 100% appears to be Amy’s 10%, and vice versa, but the amount doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we are each offering to the other all that we can in that moment.

With Jesus, there is no scorecard. We simply bring whatever we have in that moment and trust that, through the Spirit, it will be enough.

And you know what?

It will be!

Grace so often gets pigeonholed as a salvation-only kind of idea. But it’s not. Grace is audacious. Grace looks like God taking whatever we have to offer at any particular moment and then filling in every gap. Whether we have one loaf, five loaves, or a thousand loaves, on their own, they will never be enough. The beauty is that they don’t have to be enough.

This conversation puts on display the audacious and overwhelming grace of Jesus.

I am reminded that I don’t have enough. I am reminded that I don’t have to be enough. I simply have to show up and faithfully bring whatever I have.

The Sheer Audacity of Grace - Healing the Undeserving

Wed, 12 Mar 2025 12:49:11 -0400

The following conversation that Jesus has with a man who was an “invalid” for 38 years leaves me scratching my head. I think this is partially because it is a setup for the next conversation in the story. But, it is also difficult because in many ways, it just does not go as I expect it to.

Check it out…

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. [ ] One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”
Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.
The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jewish leaders said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.”
But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’”
So they asked him, “Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?”
The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there.
Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” The man went away and told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who had made him well. John 5:1-15, NIV

Do you see what I mean? From start to finish, it is a weird interaction.

Jesus shows up to this pool of Bethesda where there were a number of people with a variety of ailments. He doesn’t heal all of them. No, he finds out about this man who was an “invalid” (we are not sure what that exactly meant, but it might have been some sort of leg paralysis) and he asks, “Do you want to be healed?”

I would expect a response like, “Yes!” Instead, we get what amounts to a snarky reply. He basically was saying something like, “What are you? Thick? Of course. Why else would I be here, even though I can’t possibly get to the pool?”

This man, in many ways, is not at all what I would expect when I think about someone who is being offered healing from an infirmity of 38 years.

Do you notice in his response to Jesus’ healing the blame-shifting? “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” He is saying he probably could have been healed already, but nobody would help him, and other people jump the line in front of him. He sees himself a victim in this whole situation.

Then, when he is engaged by the Pharisees for breaking the rules of the Sabbath, he once again blame-shifts, “The man who made me well told me to carry my mat!”

Finally, he is a tattle-tale after Jesus tells him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” The man runs off and tells the Jewish leaders who it was that told him to carry the mat.

Why would Jesus choose to heal such a man as this? A man who is apparently ungrateful and has some sort of a victim mindset. This man does not come off looking like someone, out of so many others, that I would have likely chosen to heal.

What was Jesus thinking?

Oh.

Wait.

Aren’t we all, in some way, this man?

Do I deserve grace? No. Am I worthy of grace? No.

The more I look at this man, the more I see myself. Is not this man an archetype of the shadow in all of us? I know it’s not really popular these days to acknowledge the fact that we have a shadow self, that we might possibly have sinned in some way in our lives. I know I have. Seeing Jesus pick this undeserving prick of a man out from all the others to heal is a stark reminder that divine grace is never earned and is never deserved. This divine grace is rooted in God’s lovingkindness and is freely bestowed.

This interaction points to the reality that God’s grace is bigger and broader and more encompassing than I could have ever imagined.

It also is a reminder that grace, while unconditional and freely given, is the key to us becoming more than just our shadows. In Jesus’ admonition to the man, he is calling him to something more. He is calling him to move beyond his victimhood and into this new life of grace.

In the words of U2, “grace is an idea that changes the world.”

My Own Heart's Question - Would I Take Jesus at His Word?

Thu, 06 Mar 2025 11:00:00 -0400

Do you trust anyone?

It’s a hard question to answer, isn’t it?

We live in a culture of radical mistrust. How do we know what is real and what is fake? Is it even possible to know the answer to that any longer?

Every day it seems like I see something on the Internet and think, “Man, that is so cool. I wonder if it’s real?”

A few months ago a friend of mine sent me a trailer for a new Star Wars film entitled, Vader. I was blown away, it looked amazing. I think I watched the trailer like four or five times. I noticed that all the scenes were ones that I had seen before. So I did some online research and discovered it was a fan-made trailer and not a real project. The disappointment was real.

Trust is a tricky thing. It’s hard to earn and it is easy to lose.

The next conversation that we bump into in the Gospel of John is one that Jesus has with a father. Check it out…

After the two days he left for Galilee. (Now Jesus himself had pointed out that a prophet has no honor in his own country.) When he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him. They had seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the Passover Festival, for they also had been there.
Once more he visited Cana in Galilee, where he had turned the water into wine. And there was a certain royal official whose son lay sick at Capernaum. When this man heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea, he went to him and begged him to come and heal his son, who was close to death.
“Unless you people see signs and wonders,” Jesus told him, “you will never believe.” The royal official said, “Sir, come down before my child dies.”
“Go,” Jesus replied, “your son will live.”
The man took Jesus at his word and departed. While he was still on the way, his servants met him with the news that his boy was living. When he inquired as to the time when his son got better, they said to him, “Yesterday, at one in the afternoon, the fever left him.”
Then the father realized that this was the exact time at which Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” So he and his whole household believed.
This was the second sign Jesus performed after coming from Judea to Galilee. John 4:43-54, NIV

The man, a Royal official, did exactly what any dad would do. His son was close to death, so he went to Jesus. He had heard that Jesus was in town and that he was a healer. Out of desperation he comes to this peasant healer.

Jesus called out the crowd and the man, saying, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will never believe.” This highlights two things. First, the reality that the Royal Official came not by faith but from desperation and the reason for the crowds welcome of Jesus as being based on their desire to see “wonders.” This is why John points out that the prophet has no honor in his own home town, this story is supposed to demonstrate this.

But, something interesting happens.

“The man took Jesus at his word and departed.”

He may not have come by faith but from desperation. Yet, he somehow implicitly trusted Jesus’ word. Later, we discover that faith didn’t blossom in the man until he discovered the connection between Jesus’ word and the healing of his son; yet, in that moment, he still took Jesus at his word.

He trusted Jesus.

This moment of trust lead to faith and not just his but the whole of his household.

I have been thinking to myself this morning if I were in the same position would I have taken Jesus at his word?

The Royal Official really wanted Jesus to come to his home and see his sone for healing. Jesus did not offer that to him or respond in that way. He simply declared that the boy would live.

In my mind’s eye I imagine this scene with the Royal Official, a man who likely was not used to being rebuffed, staring at Jesus and Jesus staring at him right back. I imagine for the man it was one of those moments where time stood still. Would he argue? Would he push harder? Would he beg more?

No, he took Jesus at his word.

I can’t shake the feeling that I would not have taken Jesus at his word. I mean, goodness, do I take Jesus at his word in my own life even today? I have the advantage of knowing of the resurrection. I have the advantage of two thousand years of church history. I have the advantage of family stories displaying the goodness of God through Christ.

Yet, would I take Jesus at his word?

I just don’t know.

I wonder, am I too cynical? Too untrusting? Too afraid of being thought naïve?

How can I even figure out if I would take Jesus at his word? I have been using the beatitudes from Matthew 5 as my evaluation. Jesus states certain means that mark out the “blessed” or “happy” life. I will leave them with you. Do you take Jesus at his word when he says this is the way to the “blessed” life?

He said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. Matthew 5:3-12, NIV

Can't Get No Satisfaction? Look Deeper.

Mon, 03 Mar 2025 14:29:15 -0400

Jesus in Conversation

It often strikes me that the saying “there’s nothing new under the sun” rings true. We might pay lip service to the idea, but sometimes, it hits us with surprising force.

Today, I’m grappling with the question: “Where do I find my satisfaction?”

In 1965, the Rolling Stones released “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.” The song decries the materialism of the world, highlighting how everything we encounter entices us to desire something more. The result? “I can’t get no satisfaction.” Sixty years later, that song resonates deeply with me. Satisfaction and contentment often seem beyond my reach.

Consider this passage from John 4:27-38:

"Just then his disciples returned and were surprised to find him talking with a woman. But no one asked, 'What do you want?' or 'Why are you talking with her?'
Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, 'Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?'
They came out of the town and made their way toward him.
Meanwhile his disciples urged him, 'Rabbi, eat something.'
But he said to them, 'I have food to eat that you know nothing about.'
Then his disciples said to each other, 'Could someone have brought him food?'
'My food,' said Jesus, 'is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.'"

I’ve been reflecting on this interaction between Jesus and his disciples, comparing it to his earlier conversation with the woman at the well. When the woman arrived, Jesus had just sent his disciples to get food. It’s reasonable to assume he was hungry. He also asked her for a drink, suggesting he was thirsty.

Yet, in neither interaction does he actually eat or drink.

I’m struck by the disciples’ urging. Their “urging” carried a sense of “begging,” a plea. They were concerned for Jesus’ well-being.

We don’t know if he ultimately ate. He surely needed food, being human. However, like the woman at the well, the disciples and Jesus were communicating on different levels. They focused on physical food, while Jesus addressed spiritual realities.

We experience fleeting satisfaction from a good meal. But Jesus spoke of a deeper sense of satisfaction and contentment that comes from doing God’s will. He had just engaged in a transformative conversation, introducing a woman to the depths of grace. This conversation broke the cultural and religious barriers of the day, ultimately leading to a remarkable moment in his ministry: an entire Samaritan town coming to learn from him.

This was Jesus doing the will of the Father.

This was Jesus finding satisfaction.

The Rolling Stones and I could likely find satisfaction and contentment by looking beyond the material world and seeking to live out a deeper sense of calling. When we do something that, in a sense, only we can do, we can finally experience true satisfaction.

What is that thing for you? Where do you believe you might ultimately find satisfaction? What does it mean for you to do the will of the Father?

From Ruin to Redemption - God’s Justice and Promise

Mon, 03 Mar 2025 09:55:19 -0400

Dan reflects on the cultural phenomenon of the "antihero," using the TV show "Breaking Bad" as a prime example. He contrasts this with the clear moral lines of the film "Remember the Titans." This reflection then transitions into an examination of the book of Micah, specifically chapters 3, 4, and 5.

Key Highlights:

"Breaking Bad" and the Rise of the Antihero:

Dan discusses how the show portrays a drug dealer, Walter White, as a sympathetic protagonist, highlighting the cultural shift where audiences root for characters who perform immoral actions.
This reflects a cultural trend where the lines between good and evil are blurred.

"Remember the Titans" and Clear Moral Lines:

Dan contrasts "Breaking Bad" with a scene from "Remember the Titans," emphasizing the clear distinction between right and wrong.
The quote "Attitude reflects leadership, captain." is used to illustrate the difference between the two cultural items.

Micah's Prophecy and Its Relevance Today:

Dan dives into Micah's condemnation of corrupt leaders and false prophets in Israel, drawing parallels to contemporary society.
Micah's message highlights the dangers of prioritizing personal gain over justice and righteousness.
Scripture readings from Micah 3, 4, and 5 are included to reinforce the message.

Trusting in God vs. Trusting in Idols:

Dan emphasizes Micah's call to trust in God rather than worldly power or material possessions.
Dan points out how God chooses the broken and marginalized to be his remnant.
Dan draws a connection between Micah's prophecies and the ministry of Jesus.

The Transformation of the Heart:

Dan uses C.S. Lewis's imagery of God rebuilding the heart to illustrate the transformative power of faith.
The episode concludes with a challenge to listeners to examine what they are placing their trust in.

Key theme: Dan contrasts the worlds view of good and evil, with the biblical view, and challenges listeners to examine their own hearts.

New note by Daniel Rose

Thu, 27 Feb 2025 19:05:22 -0400

@kevie@mastodon.me.uk enjoy that honey mead!

Tough Love vs. Tender Mercy - Which Way Did Jesus Go?

Thu, 27 Feb 2025 13:18:36 -0400

There’s an old joke that’s told in a variety of ways. A man goes to heaven and is getting a tour by St. Peter. Peter is pointing out the various places in heaven that might be of interest and introduces him to various people as they wander the streets. The man looks down a street and sees a doorway, but it is gated and well out of the way, leading into a building. The man asks, “Peter, what is that?” Peter replies, “Oh, that’s for the Presbyterians. They think they’re the only ones up here.”

It makes me smile every time I think about it. It rings so true. So many of us think that to be a “true Christian” demands that we fully and totally align with a particular set of theological beliefs or form of church governance.

I am grateful that my denomination has a motto, “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity.” I think this captures something right about how we ought to approach one another.

I think it’s important because it gets to something that Jesus brings out in his conversation with a woman he meets at a well in the region of Samaria…

Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John—though in fact it was not Jesus who baptized, but his disciples. So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee.
Now he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)

The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”

“I have no husband,” she replied.

Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.”

“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”

The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.” John 4:1-26

There are so many layers to this conversation. SO MANY LAYERS. Honestly, I think it might be a Bible teacher’s dream. You have Jesus speaking, you have references to the Father and the Spirit. You get cultural issues surrounding men and women, Jew and Samaritan, and a woman coming to draw water at the height of the heat of the day. I am tempted to write a few thousand words just unpacking all of this.

But, that would be missing the forest for the trees. Which is, on the whole, something I and many other pastors are really good at. We assume the forest. But, in doing so, we end up not teaching the principle that helps us to follow Jesus and love well. Perhaps someday I will come back and write about all the trees in the forest of this conversation. Today, I want to focus on the big picture of Jesus in conversation.

As we take in the forest of this conversation, the first thing we notice is that John tells us that Jesus had to go through Samaria. Indeed, he did not have to go through Samaria. Jesus, like many of his countrymen, could have chosen to go around Samaria. This would have added a lot of time and distance to his travels. It appears that Jesus made this decision because he was concerned about the Pharisees and their rising jealousy. So, he wanted to get back to a safe harbor in Galilee as quickly as possible. This seems likely as to why he had to go through Samaria.

While he travels through, he stops to rest at a well. This would be totally normal, particularly in the heat of the day. The well was probably an oasis space due to the water present in the ground. Jesus and his disciples could have gotten out of the heat into some shade and rested during the hottest part of the day, then return to their travel later in the afternoon. The disciples, we learn, had even gone to get some food.

As Jesus is resting, a woman comes to the well to draw water. For us, this wouldn’t seem odd. But, at the time, this would be a strange time to do the hard work of drawing water and carrying it back to your home. Typically, water drawing was done early in the morning before the crushing heat and to have the water for the day’s activities. Likely, this was also a communal time for the women of the village. This means that this woman was likely an outsider within her community.

So, two outsiders (Jesus, an outsider within the Jewish community, and the woman) cross paths at a well. Jesus engages this woman. In doing so, Jesus breaks a couple of big boundaries. One, Jews and Samaritans don’t talk to one another. But also, a Jewish man talking to a Samaritan woman was really crossing boundaries.

Now, their conversation, like that of Nicodemus and Jesus, is one where she misses Jesus’ deeper point. She hears his offer to never be thirsty again and desires it. You can almost hear the relief and hope in her voice. Think about it, on one level, she would not have to do the labor of drawing water. On a deeper level, it would free her from the shame of having to walk to the well at the heat of the day.

Compare Jesus’ response to her as opposed to his response to Nicodemus. With Nicodemus, he responds with, “You should have known!” Yet, with this woman, he responds with kindness and gentleness. He helps her understand the misunderstanding. It is here, for the first time, that Jesus himself claims to be the coming Messiah.

When Jesus sits with the person who is on the outside of the community, his posture is that of grace and mercy. He treats her with dignity and respect. Jesus hides nothing from her but offers her the gracious truth.

It is interesting to me as I consider the way many of us Christians treat people inside and outside the faith. We tend to treat other Christians with kid gloves. For the people outside the faith, we offer them harsh treatment that we might call, “tough love.”

This posture is the opposite of how Jesus moved in the world.

One of us is doing it wrong.

I am guessing it is not Jesus.

The other thing that really strikes me is that Jesus intentionally put himself in the position to engage with someone like the Samaritan. Jesus intentionally opened the door to be in relationship with this cultural, moral, and religious outsider.

Most of the church strategy books and conferences teach how to program up the church so as to keep people deeply involved in the church. This is what makes them “sticky.” You want to create an environment where people’s entire lives are centered around the church building so that they don’t get caught up in the ways of the world. While the heart is good, the results end up with us keeping people from being able to find themselves interacting with people outside the faith.

Jesus was intentional to engage with people on the edges of his society. We are intentional to insulate ourselves from those very people.

One of us is doing it wrong.

I am guessing it is not Jesus.

We need to constantly remind ourselves that tough love is for the insider. Gentle and compassionate responses are for the outsider.

Building on the Rock - Practicing Faith for Life's Storms

Wed, 26 Feb 2025 17:39:39 -0400

What do you do when life gets tough? Do you retreat to bed, declaring it a “no good, very bad day,” hoping tomorrow will be better? If so, we might never leave our beds. Daily, we encounter trouble, hardship, heartache, and suffering, even amidst blessings. The news constantly reminds us of the world’s unending problems.

How do we respond? We cannot perpetually hide, waiting for an easy life. The storms inevitably come, and we often live with a sense of impending trouble, even when things are good.

Jesus addresses this in Matthew 7, at the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount. He illustrates: “Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

The “rock” signifies putting Jesus’s words into practice. Hearing alone is insufficient; we must hear and do. The storms will come, and our foundation determines whether we withstand them.

While some emphasize “hearing” due to grace, Jesus stresses “hear and do.” It’s a dual imperative. We must hear to act, building our lives on the rock.

How do we embody Jesus’s teachings? Many hear, but few practice. We recite, “Love your neighbor,” “Love your enemy,” “Do not judge,” but how do we live them?

Consider athletes like Wayne Gretzky and Michael Jordan. They prioritized practice over games. Practice is where they honed their skills, ensuring their continued excellence. Most athletes practice to play; the greats play to practice.

This principle applies to our faith. Practice prepares us for life’s storms. Faith doesn’t eliminate pain, but it guides us through it. The storms, though intermittent, test our preparation.

Many abandon their faith during hardship, questioning God’s allowance of suffering. Yet, this is the very moment our faith is tested. Without practice, our faith falters, like an athlete whose fundamentals collapse under pressure.

We must cultivate a love for practicing our faith. It’s not merely intellectual assent; it’s active engagement. We’ve been misled to believe following Jesus guarantees a trouble-free life. But following Jesus is a challenging journey, a step into the arena. Yet, His yoke is easy through practiced faith.

We build our faith on the rock through consistent practice. Over the coming weeks, we will explore practical ways to do this: prayer, Scripture study, service, community, and fasting. These are not means to earn salvation, but expressions of our salvation, preparing us for life’s storms.

These practices fortify us for the inevitable hardships—heartache, pain, and the impact of sin in a broken world. Sin is not just individual wrongdoing; it’s navigating a fallen reality. We face car troubles, illness, and financial strain—storms we all encounter.

Are we prepared? Are we building our faith on the rock of hearing and doing Jesus’s teachings? Practice, with its repetition and drills, is essential. For the next six weeks, we will focus on these foundational practices.

Prayer:

Heavenly Father, thank You for a faith that prepares us for life’s storms. Help us to love practice more than performance, so our faith stands firm. In Jesus’s name, Amen.

The original sermon:

New note by Daniel Rose

Tue, 25 Feb 2025 19:15:03 -0400

Tuesdays are becoming very full days. I like it.

Trampolines and Broken Bricks - Reimagining Faith Beyond 'Should Have Known'

Tue, 25 Feb 2025 16:40:35 -0400

“You should have known better.”

Have you ever heard that before? Man, I feel like I have heard it a ton. Perhaps it is the result of being the oldest of three brothers. Or maybe it’s because I present myself as someone who knows all the things and is pretty confident. Whatever the reason, “You should have known better.” is a phrase that I have heard often.

It’s one of those phrases that the voice inside my head uses whenever I perceive that I have failed in some way. “I should have known better.”

It’s become something that I now own.

However, I am learning that it is an idea that I can let go of. The way to relinquish it is to admit that I actually don’t know everything. It is the willingness to lay down any sense of self-protectionist perfectionism (say that ten times fast!). The beauty of admitting that I do not know everything, to lay aside my overwhelming intellectual and spiritual arrogance, frees me from the pressure of the “should have known.”

In this conversation that Jesus with one a very religious person, a Pharisee, I think what we see is Jesus challenging him to consider laying aside his arrogance and recognize in humility that he might not know as much as he thinks he does.

Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”
Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”
“How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!”
Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”
“How can this be?” Nicodemus asked.
“You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven —the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” John 3:1-15

In John’s gospel we see Jesus often talking about “earthly things” that often have spiritual realities behind them. We’ve just seen this very thing happen in Jesus’ conversation with the Temple authorities. They think he’s talking about a building that will be torn down and be rebuilt in three days, but he’s talking about himself. Here, with Nicodemus, we get this idea of being “born again,” where Jesus does the exact same thing. He adds a spiritual layer to the idea of being born.

The Pharisees were the evangelicals of their day. They took their faith seriously, they were at odds with the Roman Empire and other more secularized Jews, and they knew their holy Scriptures. Nicodemus was likely no spiritual slouch. We are told that he was member of the council which means he was a leader in the community. He came to Jesus under the cover of night and the speculation is that he did this to protect his reputation because Jesus was getting the reputation of being a bit of a rabble rouser.

He acknowledges that Jesus was a teacher sent from God. There is no question in Nicodemus’ mind that Jesus is on par with the prophets from the past. He could see in Jesus’ public ministry the divine fingerprints. It was clear to Nicodemus that Jesus had a divine mandate to carry out his ministry.

What does Jesus do? He makes an enigmatic statement regarding the kingdom of God and being born again.

Every time I read this interaction I am always left scratching my head. This seems like such an out of pocket response to what it is that Nicodemus has just said. So, my hunch is that Nicodemus in requesting the meeting with Jesus had let him what he wanted to discuss, namely, the kingdom of God. The way John tells this story, Jesus just gets right down to brass tacks. Kind of a, “Let’s not waste time with idle chit chat and the mutual admiration society stuff. Let’s get down to it.”

I think that Nicodemus is rightly confused by what Jesus tells him. You see, he doesn’t have a couple thousand years of Christian history and thought that he is building on. He’s a guy trying to faithfully walk with God and sees in Jesus someone who can help him grow in his faith. His wondering how that’s even possible is, to me, a totally respectable question.

Jesus gives him a fuller explanation and once again Nicodemus responds with, “How can this be?”

It is in this moment that Jesus basically says, “Homie, you should know better.” It’s a scathing response from Jesus, “You are Israel’s teacher, and do you not understand these things?”

I think Jesus is trying to break Nicodemus out his small minded thinking about faith. The Pharisees were deeply concerned with the purely practical. Jesus wants to press him beyond that immediacy to the transcendent truth of the nature of what he was bringing about.

I think Jesus was calling him to deconstruct his existing faith. This breaking down was going to result in Nicodemus having a spiritual experience such that he would feel like his born again.

This teacher of Israel should have known better. But, he didn’t. He needed to embrace in humility his lack of understanding. If he would, then his life would change. He would be born again. Jesus’ challenge of “you should know better,” only comes after Nicodemus unwillingness to really engage with what Jesus told him. “How can this be?” was a question about the need to take a new look at his faith and he it pointed out a lack of willingness.

As I ponder again this story, I think I would be just like Nicodemus. To radically question my deeply held beliefs is scary. It’s really uncomfortable to ask hard questions because there might not be answers. For much of my life I have understood my faith to be like a wall of bricks and if you take out the wrong brick it will fall apart. I am growing to understand my faith as being more like a trampoline. I can take out a spring here or there and evaluate it and the trampoline continues to work. I am finding that many of the springs go right back in. But, some of them get replaced and others are no longer needed.

I resonate deeply with Nicodemus. Wrestling with our faith is not easy. Yet, when we do, we emerge with new life.

New note by Daniel Rose

Sun, 23 Feb 2025 18:23:27 -0400

@SolusSpider@pixey.org this looks amazing.

New note by Daniel Rose

Sun, 23 Feb 2025 16:01:52 -0400

@solusspider@polymaths.social my guy @ozzy runs an instance. He can make the sales pitch!

Shattered Idols - Micah's Vision of Reckoning

Sun, 23 Feb 2025 15:16:08 -0400

We look around at a world rife with hardship, a world that often feels chaotic and unfair. And then, we look at our own lives. Maybe they're comfortable, maybe even good. A nagging question arises: what do we do with this dissonance? Do we turn a blind eye, dismissing the suffering as "not my problem"? Or does something stir within us, a sense that we should, perhaps even must, do something?

This internal struggle, this tension between comfort and conscience, is not unique to our time. The prophet Micah, speaking during the prosperous reign of King Uzziah in Judah, confronted a similar reality. Judah was booming. Wealth was abundant. But beneath the surface, a rot was festering.

Micah's message, like a jarring alarm, cuts through the complacency. He doesn't sugarcoat. He doesn't offer easy answers. He delivers a stark warning: doom and hope, doom and hope. This is the rhythm of his prophecy, a constant oscillation between judgment and redemption.

The Problem of Prosperity

Micah exposes the dark side of Judah's prosperity. Unprecedented wealth had led to unchecked greed. The powerful exploited the vulnerable, seizing land and disregarding God's laws of justice and compassion. The year of Jubilee, designed to restore equity, was ignored.

Sound familiar?

We too live in a world where the gap between the rich and the poor continues to widen. Where the powerful often prioritize their own interests over the well-being of others.

The Plague of False Worship

But Micah doesn't just address economic injustice. He goes deeper, diagnosing the root cause: idolatry. The people of Judah, despite having the temple in Jerusalem, had turned it into a "high place," a center of false worship. They had replaced the true God with idols of their own making.

This indictment hits hard. What are our idols? What are we worshipping in our daily lives? Is it power, wealth, comfort, entertainment, or even our own opinions? Are we truly worshipping God in spirit and truth, or have we crafted a god in our own image?

Micah doesn't shy away from confronting the religious leaders either. He condemns the false prophets who offered soothing words of prosperity and ignored the cries of the oppressed. They prioritized comfort over truth, echoing a pattern we see in our own time.

The Call to Repentance and Hope

Micah's message is uncomfortable, even painful. He challenges our "sacred cows," forcing us to confront our own complacency and idolatry. But amidst the doom, there is a glimmer of hope.

Micah proclaims that God will gather a remnant, a faithful people who will return to Him. He paints a vivid picture of joy and liberation, like sheep bursting into a wide-open pasture. This hope is not based on human merit but on God's faithfulness to His covenant.

A Challenge for Today

Micah's words resonate with our contemporary issues. We, too, must confront the dissonance between our comfort and the suffering around us. We must ask ourselves:

What are we worshipping?
Are we living justly and compassionately?
Are we listening to the true voice of God, or the soothing whispers of false prophets?

Micah's message is not meant to make us comfortable. It is meant to heal our souls. It is a call to repentance, a call to return to the true God, and a call to be part of the remnant that will experience the joy of His redemption.

Let us heed Micah's warning and embrace his hope. Let us examine our hearts, confront our idols, and strive to live as a people who truly worship God in spirit and truth.

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 19:19:57 -0400

@ozzy
Cool cool

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 19:10:38 -0400

@solusspider@polymaths.social it appears the follow worked, yes? I requested to follow you as well.

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 18:07:36 -0400

@ozzy it looks like gotosocial accounts can’t follow Sharkey. Which is weird.

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 17:12:40 -0400

Lazy sunny Saturdays are something else.

The String Cheese Incident - Sunny Skies
https://music.apple.com/us/song/790975392

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 13:40:27 -0400

Really looking forward to this Red Wings game today. I hope they come out with tons of compete. #NHL #LGRWD

Jesus in Conversation - The Sales People

Thu, 20 Feb 2025 18:21:44 -0400

When was the last time you walked into a space and thought, “This is not at all what I was expecting”? I grew up going to a historic Presbyterian church in Pontiac, MI. It is one of the oldest churches in the state. The building is magnificent. It is a gothic style church with a massive pipe organ and gorgeous stained glass at the corner of the two main roads in the downtown of the city. Any time I walk into First Presbyterian Church of Pontiac I am left with a sense of wonder and reverence.

It was a magical place to grow up in my faith.

Church for me was shaped by this building and the people found within.

When I left home I entered into a more evangelical faith paradigm. I will never forget the first time I entered into a mega church. From the outside it looked like a mall. The inside was warm and modern. They had a full cafe and bookstore. Commerce was happening everywhere I looked. Even at the end of the worship service you were encouraged to visit the bookstore and cafe.

This was a very different church than what I experienced growing up. It was not at all what I expected.

The next conversation that Jesus has in the gospel of John took place just before the Passover in Jerusalem. The conversation happens in the Temple courts and he’s not real pleased…

When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”
The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”
Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”
They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.
Now while he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Festival, many people saw the signs he was performing and believed in his name. But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person. John 2:13-25

So, we actually have a couple of interactions in the story and I think that we have to take them both together because they form one complete story.

Jesus comes up to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover because that’s what a good Jewish person did. When he enters the Temple courts he apparently grew angry when he saw what was going on. There was the buying and selling of animals for the sacrifices that were to be made for the Passover. This should not be surprising because people would travel from long distances to come to the Temple for Passover. The odds of traveling with an animal over a long distance would have been difficult and costly particularly in that it also had to be without blemish. So, people would simply purchase their animal when they got to Jerusalem. These markets for a long time had been set up across the valley near the Mount of Olives. But, at this point in time (ca AD28) they had moved them into the Temple for greater convenience.

There was nothing inherently wrong with the markets. There was nothing inherently wrong with the buying and selling of animals for sacrifice. So why was Jesus so mad?

The other bit of commerce that we see happening in this story is that of money changers. Again, this was an important convenience for people who were traveling in on pilgrimage from across the Roman Empire. These pilgrims would arrive with various currencies and needed to pay their Temple tax (this helped with the upkeep of the Temple and was paid annually at Passover). They had to use the local currency of Jerusalem. Just like when we travel today in the European Union we change our currency from American dollars to the Euro. People would set up shop and for a little percentage would change the money for the pilgrims.

There was nothing inherently wrong with the money changers. So why was Jesus so mad?

He was angry because they had set up shop inside the Temple courts. The Temple was the meeting place of God and people. It was to be a place of worship, contemplation, and prayer. It was not to be a market or a place of commerce.

The sellers and money changers had desecrated this holy place, his Father’s house.

Worship and sacrifice are the point and purpose of the Temple. But, by mixing them with the buying and selling, the people had desecrated the very thing that they had come to do.

When Jesus is confronted by the leaders they ask, “Where do you get your authority?” D.A. Carson in his commentary on John makes the salient point, “First, they display no reflection or self-examination over whether Jesus’ cleansing of the temple and related charges were foundationally just. They are therefore less concerned with pure worship and a right approach to God than they are with questions of precedent and authority.”

It is almost like they kind of knew that this was messed up, but hey, it was convenient and worked. They want to know, “who do you think you are?” This almost feels like some sort of bad TV show plot. The audience knows what the twist is well before the characters in the show do.

Jesus’ mysterious response of “Tear down this Temple and I will rebuild it in three days,” really throws them. Understandably. John gives us the hint, thankfully. Jesus, like he often does in John is speaking of something deeper than the immediate physical reality. He is pointing to the spiritual.

It is his resurrection that will ultimately prove his authority.

But, let’s not miss the key thing here. The underlying focus of this story is not that Jesus is against the market. Jesus is not against the money changers. Jesus is upset at the desecration of worship because it has been intermixed with commerce. Convenience and ease had taken precedence over keeping the worship in the Temple holy.

As I look around the American Christian subculture what we have built looks much more like a religious industrial complex than it does pure worship. So many of our church buildings have become littered with the equivalence of animal markets and moneychangers. Why? Convenience and control. We can control what people read if they conveniently buy only the books we stock in our bookstore inside the church (as one example).

So much of what we do, like the buyers and sellers in the Temple, are done with the best of intentions. The problem is that we don’t ask ourselves, “should we?”

More times than not, I think the answer likely is, “we should not.”

Jesus, is concerned that people worship in spirit and truth (we will hear more about that in a future conversation). This scene makes it clear that as we approach the place of worship it is time to put commerce aside so that we might enter into a holy and reverent space.

New note by Daniel Rose

Wed, 19 Feb 2025 18:46:31 -0400

It would be amazing to be able to mirror an rss feed into Misskey/Sharkey

New note by Daniel Rose

Wed, 19 Feb 2025 17:02:28 -0400

Checking out this little app for iOS that could be a nice client for fedi.social.

New note by Daniel Rose

Wed, 19 Feb 2025 14:08:48 -0400

Had to come back and give it a go.

Jesus in Conversation - His Mom

Tue, 18 Feb 2025 15:32:45 -0400

Moms and sons have a special kind of dynamic. I know that my mom and I can communicate with a look. We have inside jokes and so much shared history that sometimes we don’t even need to say anything.

As I watch my own son and my wife, the same dynamic exists. They have an uncanny ability to simply understand one another. It’s almost like they can read one another’s minds at times.

Of course, there’s also the reality that sons are male and we often fail miserably at reading our mom’s minds. But, just like that special #girldad bond there is a #boymom bond that is unique too.

I suppose, it should come as no surprise that Jesus’ first miracle comes as a result of a conversation with his mom. Perhaps the surprise is that it happened at a party and was him making some really good wine.

On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.
Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”
They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”
What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
After this he went down to Capernaum with his mother and brothers and his disciples. There they stayed for a few days. John 2:1-12

Every time I read this story it makes me smile. I smile because the interaction between Jesus and his mom is just so normal.

She walks up and lets him know about a problem at the wedding, they are out of wine. His response is gold, “Why do you involve me?” The Greek phrase here is an idiom that is something like, “What does this have to do with your or with me?” I love the way that Eugene Peterson translates this in The Message, “Is that any of our business, Mother—yours or mine?”

But it gets even more humorous, she tells the servants to do whatever he tells them. She just ignores the fact that he says it’s not their issue.

How does Jesus respond?

Well, he does what she wants.

Moms and sons, there’s just something different about their relationship. Can you almost imagine Jesus rolling his eyes? I can. Because, well, like Jesus, I am an oldest son with a strong mom and I know that I better do what she wants because it will go much better for me.

As entertaining as this interaction is it belies something deeper.

The question of why? Why does Jesus do this miracle? Why is Mary worried about this? Why does she expect him to fix it?

Weddings in Judea in the first century were a big deal. The celebration would often last up to a full week and the bill of the party was to be covered by the groom. Most scholars believe that this wedding was of a close relative of Jesus’ which is why he was invited to attend with his disciples and Mary. Some even think that Mary may have been part of the group of family members that helped with organizing and catering the party. This would explain why she was even aware that the wine had run out.

All of this is fine and dandy, but still why was this a big deal? I mean, if the wine runs out, who cares?

The culture of Jesus’ day was based in honor and shame. To run out of something during a wedding celebration would have brought deep social shame to the groom. In some cases, the bride’s family might even sue the groom for failing to properly provide for the wedding feast. This feast was the first step in displaying that he was going to be able to provide for her and their future family.

To run short on wine would have likely put the groom in a position where he would be socially sidelined for years to come in a state of deep shame.

Mary’s concern was likely for this not to happen.

Jesus, knowing his mom and her empathy and her concern for those on the edges of society (check out Luke 1:46-55), protected the groom from this shame. Even though it “was not his time.” He protected this groom from public shame and ridicule.

Interestingly, the only people who knew what happened were apparently Jesus, Mary, and the servants. The groom never knew how his reputation was protected by Jesus. The groom simply celebrated with his bride.

I think we ought not to miss that Jesus’ first recorded miracle was to protect someone from public shame without the person even knowing.

This runs so counter to how so many of us in the Christian subculture seem to think things are supposed to work. At least, that’s what it appears on social media.

In my conversations with people who are outside the Christian subculture they are of the belief that Christians primarily desire to shame people and then convert them. Where do they get this perception? From social media and from personal interactions with Christians on social media.

Jesus was about protecting people from shame and releasing them from shame (more on that in future conversations). Too many of us have come to believe that shame must come first so that grace might abound. That is not how grace works. Grace is abundant and ever present. Grace is the context within which we are able to work through our shame.

I have never met a person who doesn’t experience shame on some level. What they need from me is grace. They need to know that they are loved that grace and mercy are available to them. When they do, shame is relieved life change can occur.

Does this mean that we are to set aside truth? Does this mean that we are to simply ignore bad behavior? By no means! What Jesus’ example here in this story shows us is that we are to have the releasing from shame as our goal. If that’s the goal, how do we work backwards from there to get where we want to be?

Public mockery or private shaming get us nowhere. When we heap shame on others it pushes them further to the edges and further away from the community of faith. No, we create a culture of grace and mercy to allow for people to have space to work out the issues causing their shame. This work, like Jesus’ creating the wine, is often done in the quiet and behind the scenes. What people see and experience is grace and mercy and love. What they don’t see is the hard work being done to create such a space, and that is the very reason why they experience grace, mercy, and love.

I hope that I can be someone who in some sense is turning water into wine.

Jesus in Conversation - Philip and Nathanael

Tue, 11 Feb 2025 17:59:49 -0400

People of a certain age all have some shared television experiences. First, when we were sick and home from school we would watch The Price is Right. Second, when we stayed up late watching something on TV we would inevitably see something called an “infomercial.”

These long form commercials somehow would suck you in and you just couldn’t turn it off. The salesperson would be doing their pitch and then they would say, “But wait! There’s more!” Then they would sweeten the deal.

A whole generation was trained by television to wait for something more. Perhaps this is why my generation is typically unimpressed by many things and always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because, it turns out that, “wait, there’s more,” isn’t only for good stuff.

As I was reading through this next conversation with Jesus that is recorded in John’s Gospel, I couldn’t help but think that there might have been a narrator in the background saying, “but wait, there’s more…”

The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.”
Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida. Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote —Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”
“Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked.
“Come and see,” said Philip.
When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”
“How do you know me?” Nathanael asked.
Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”Then Nathanael declared, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.”Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” He then added, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.” -- John 1:43-51, NIV

Once again we have someone immediately inviting another to follow Jesus. I think something interesting here is that we only Philip followed Jesus because of what he did. Did you catch that? Philip doesn’t respond to Jesus’ call to follow by saying anything. Jesus calls him and then he goes to find Nathanael. It was in his going to find Nathanael that we assume he is following Jesus.

Philip didn’t need to say a word. He simply acted in response to the call. His actions displayed his following.

This has me thinking, what do my actions display to a watching world? If my story was in the narrative would it be obvious through how I lived that I was following Christ?

The narrative here continues to a longer interaction with Nathanael. After he’s invited to follow to Jesus by Philip, as he’s walking up, Jesus exclaims, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

Nathanael’s response cracks me up.

“How do you know me?”

There’s no sense of “gee, that’s kind of you,” or “who me?” Nope, no false humility here. Simply, “wow! that’s right and you just now saw me, how could know of my awesomeness?” We shouldn’t be surprised though, should we? Nathanael literally mean, “God’s gift.” If walked around and everyone referred to me as “God’s gift” I would probably have a pretty healthy sense of self too. This whole scene wreaks of comedy. I hope you see the comedic value in this interaction!

Jesus replies by telling Nathanael that he could see him under the fig tree. This in Nathanael’s mind was an impossibility and so specific that it proved Jesus’ identity as Messiah. So much so, that he declares his belief right then and there.

The NIV renders Jesus’ response as a statement but I think that the NET Bible has it more correct by rendering the response as a question, “Because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree, do you believe?" It is almost like Jesus couldn’t believe that is all it took for him believe.

It is interesting the two different responses of Philip and Nathanael. One responds in action and the other with words.

Jesus now drops the, “but wait there’s more.” He tells Nathanael specifically that he will see even greater things. It’s like, “You thought that was good? Just you wait.”

But, then he turns to all the disciples and tells them, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.” The “you” here is plural and again, I like the way the NET Bible makes that clear by translating this as, “I tell all of you…” Jesus is quoting here from Genesis 28:12 and the vision of Jacob,

Jacob left Beersheba and set out for Harran. When he reached a certain place, he stopped for the night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down to sleep. He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the LORD, and he said: “I am the LORD, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you. -- Genesis 28:10-15

Jesus puts himself in the place of the stairway. He says they are going to see how he is the bridge that connects God and man. Moreover, in him or better through him they will see heaven opened up. Also, by identifying himself with Jacob (who becomes known as Israel) he is placing himself as the New Israel, the Israel that would keep the covenant perfectly and therefore bridging the gap the between God and man.

If Nathanael was blown away by Jesus simply knowing that he was under a fig tree, he would have his life transformed by glimpsing the divine as Jesus opens heaven for him and the disciples. As I think about this interaction, I am reminded of the little parable that C.S. Lewis tells in the Weight of Glory.

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

I think that if I am easily satisfied by some trivial thing like Jesus being able to see me under a tree, it will not very well prepare me for when things get difficult. I think that Jesus is going to show them these deeper realities to solidify their faith. He wants them to see things greater so that when life and faith in him gets difficult, they will have these deeper stories to draw on.

As I consider my life, I am struck by the ways that God has provided for me in so many different ways. Whethery are financial, relational, spiritual, or emotional. Every time I think I’ve plumbed the depth, I go deeper still.

It’s as if there is a narrator out there saying, “but wait, there’s more!”

Practice in Community

Sun, 09 Feb 2025 18:21:38 -0400

We're wrapping up our series on spiritual practices, and today we're diving into the essential practice of community. While many of us here understand its importance, it's worth exploring why it's so crucial.

The Myth of Lone Ranger Christianity

American Christianity often emphasizes individualism—"me and Jesus." But this "Lone Ranger" approach isn't biblical. It stems, in part, from the Second Great Awakening and figures like Charles Finney, who promoted an individualistic gospel.

Historically, joining the church was a communal process, a deep commitment to the body of Christ. However, the modern focus on individual decisions has led to a disconnect from the importance of community.

Scriptural Foundation: Acts 2:42-47

Let's look at Acts 2:42-47: "They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."

Devotion: A Daily Choice

Notice the word "devoted." It signifies an active, ongoing choice. Just like love in marriage, devotion to community is a daily decision.

They devoted themselves to:

Apostles' teaching: Growing in God's Word.
Fellowship (Koinonia): Deep, meaningful relationships.
Breaking of bread: Practicing the Lord's Supper.
Prayer: Communing with God.

True Fellowship: Beyond Surface Interactions

Fellowship isn't just attending church or social events. It's doing life together, sharing burdens, and celebrating joys.

The early church shared everything, ensuring no one was in need. While we may not replicate that exactly, the principle remains: we should leverage our gifts and resources to support each other.

The Challenge: Vulnerability and Invitation

Many of us struggle to ask for help, fearing we'll burden others. But the church exists to support us.

Are we inviting others into our lives?
Are we willing to be vulnerable?

We often prefer others to need us, but we hesitate to reveal our own needs. This one way street breaks down community.

Living Life Together: Beyond Sunday Mornings

The early church met daily, sharing meals and spending time together. In our modern, isolated world, we must be intentional about connecting beyond formal church events.

Our culture promotes isolation: attached garages, air conditioning, and busy schedules. We must push back against this trend.

Preparing for Storms: The Purpose of Community

Spiritual practices prepare us for life's storms. By practicing community when life is good, we'll be more likely to lean on each other when times are tough.

Jesus warned his followers of persecution. They needed community to endure. We need it too.

Your Challenge This Week:

Are you devoting yourself to fellowship?
Are you both giving and receiving in your relationships?
When life gets hard, do you invite others in?

Don't rob your brothers and sisters of the joy of serving you. Let them share in your joys and sorrows.

Prayer:

Heavenly Father, help us be a people devoted to fellowship. Open our lives to one another, and help us bear each other's burdens. In Jesus' name, Amen

Jesus in Conversation - Simon Peter

Thu, 06 Feb 2025 15:45:46 -0400

Over the years I have given out a lot of nicknames. Why? I don’t know. Nicknames for me are a term of endearment. When I give you a nickname it’s because I like you and you mean something to me.

When two people are in love they often give one another pet names. You know, things like “honey,” “sweetie,” “darling,” and the list goes on. When they get mad at one another they use their “real” names.

Speaking of getting mad, growing up I knew that I was in trouble when my mom used my full name. If your mom drops all three names, that’s when you try to find a place to hide, because it is not about to go well for you.

There is great power in hearing our name. It wakes up the brain. There was a study done that shows the brain lights up like a Christmas tree when participants heard their name (NIH Study on hearing your name). There is also something called the “Cocktail Party Effect,” where hearing your name allows you to focus and also creates a positive response in your brain (Cocktail Party Effect and What Happens When You Hear Your Name).

Names really matter. They shape our identities. As the great theologian, Kenny Chesney wrote, “All you’re given in this life is the sunshine and your name.”

So, this little conversation with Jesus and a guy named Simon is really interesting to me. It takes place at the end of John 1…

Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, was one of the two who heard what John had said and who had followed Jesus. The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, “We have found the Messiah” (that is, the Christ). And he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You will be called Cephas” (which, when translated, is Peter). - John 1:40-42

Andrew had just spent the day with Jesus. After doing so, he was convinced that Jesus was the Messiah. So, what does he do? He goes and finds his brother, Simon. Andrew didn't want Simon to miss out on what was happening. They had likely been waiting for the Messiah to show up. After all, life in first century Judea was not all that great. They were under the thumb of the Roman empire.

Life was difficult.

The hope of the people was for the Messiah to come and free them from the tyranny of Rome and return the rule of the house of David to the throne.

Andrew was convinced that Jesus was that man.

When he brings Simon to Jesus we get this brief interaction between Jesus and Simon. What does Jesus do? He “looked at him.”

The word here is the verb, “ἐμβλέπω (emblepo)”. While it gets translated as “look” it carries this sense of staring, gazing, or looking closely. I think, John is trying to get us to understand that this wasn’t Jesus sizing Peter up but something more.

I imagine that after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension that John and Peter spent a lot of time talking and reminiscing about their days with Jesus. It seems likely to me that one of the conversations that they would have had would have been something like this,

*“Bro, do you remember the first time you met him?”

“Oh man, absolutely! It was wild, it was like he looked into my soul. You know how he would do that? That thing where he really saw you? Well, he said my name and then told me he would call me, Cephas. I didn’t know why or what he was getting at. But, it changed everything, you know?”

Can you see that conversation taking place in your mind’s eye? I sure can.

Jesus had this way of seeing people. He looked at Simon son of John and re-named him.

Now, much has been made about the significance of him re-naming Simon to Cephas (which in Greek is Petros which is where we come up with Peter). Some traditions argue that Peter himself is the rock upon which Jesus would build the church. This where the idea of the papacy comes from and why each Pope traces their authority directly back to Peter. Other traditions aruge that it was Peter’s declaration of Jesus being the Messiah that is the rock upon which the church is built.

I have little interest in the debate, I don’t think it matters.

What is of great interest to me is that Peter upon receiving this name change begins to follow Jesus. He also ends up being a leader in the early church. Peter also dies for Jesus’ name as a martyr.

All of this because Jesus “looked” at him.

Jesus could see Simon son of John for who he truly was. He was a rock, a cephas, a petros. He was Peter.

As I think about this interaction it strikes me that perhaps as we seek to follow the way of Jesus we become who we truly are, that is, the best version of ourselves. Each of us are uniquely created in the image of God. There are no two of us alike. When our lives are marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control do we not become the best version of ourselves? Those fruit of the Spirit come about as we are looked at by Christ through the Spirit. We are transformed into who we truly are.

To be seen in this way is frightening. It means that our masks are removed and we will be known at our deepest level.

To be seen in this way is freeing. It means that our masks are removed and we will be freed to live as our most authentic selves.

Jesus in Conversation - The Two Disciples

Tue, 04 Feb 2025 12:04:36 -0400

How do you know who someone is? I don’t mean who they say they are, but who they really are? How do you determine it?

I think we do so by watching the way a person acts. As my friend, Todd, likes to say, “acta non verba (actions not words).”

When you think about the important verbs of Christianity, what comes to your mind? For me they are listen, obey and learn. The more I try to walk in the way of Jesus the more odd this is beginning to seem. It is as if we are saying, “Do as I say, not as I do.”

As I read through the Jesus story through the eyes of John I am struck that his primary verbs are those of sight.

The next day John was there again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God!”
When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus. Turning around, Jesus saw them following and asked, “What do you want?”
They said, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”
“Come,” he replied, “and you will see.”
So they went and saw where he was staying, and they spent that day with him. It was about four in the afternoon. John 1:35-39, NIV

Right before this bit, we have the description of John the Baptist *seeing* Jesus and he declares Jesus' identity as the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. He also talks about seeing the Holy Spirit in the form a dove resting on Jesus. It's quite a powerful moment, in and of itself. On this, the next day, he sees Jesus again and again declares his identity.

This must have been a usual place for Jesus to hang out, because it is back to back days that John sees Jesus and declares his identity. I think it might be a safe assumption that these were not the only two days that he did such a thing.

Two disciples of John, one of whom was Andrew (we learn this later), hears what John says and then begin following Jesus.

The interaction here cracks me up. Can you imagine it in your mind?

Jesus is walking down the path minding his own business and realizes that he’s being followed. Perhaps he slows or speeds up or glances over his shoulder. Finally he turns and confronts the men following him, “What do you want?”

Their reply seems odd, “Rabbi, where are you staying?”

Jesus’ response? “Come and see.”

I think that there are a load of things happening in this little conversation. First, we are told they were John’s disciples. These two heard what John the Baptist said and simply walked away. They were committed as disciples to John the Baptist but had the freedom to simply go after Jesus. I think this tells us much about who John the Baptist was. I almost get the sense that John was telling his disciples to go after Jesus. This man’s humility was displayed by him pointing out the messiah and then freeing his disciples to go.

Second, these two disciples follow Jesus. This phrase, “to follow” will come up a lot in the Gospel. While they were physically following him, I think John wants us to understand that there was something else going on here too. They knew from their, now former Rabbi, that Jesus was the Messiah. They were ready to follow him spiritually, as well.

Third, this question, “What do you want?” is also probably layered. It is a very natural response to someone who is following after you but it is also probably a deeper question. I think we can assume that Jesus knew that these two were John the Baptist’s disciples. He probably saw them hanging around. Besides, John the Baptist and Jesus were cousins and both living in a small town. Surely, Jesus knew John the Baptist’s circle of friends. So, this question probably was also in reference to a deeper spiritual reality.

When we consider this, their request to see where Jesus was staying takes on a bit more significance. Again, assuming that they probably already knew where Jesus was living, this was likely a way to say, “We would like to talk with you in private.” But, there is also another interesting layer here. This word translated as “staying” is the word that will later be translated “adide” in the famous John 15 passage. Could there have been a spritual layer to this question as well?

As I consider all this, Jesus reply, “Come and see,” is so much more profound than a simple “come on over”. It is an invitation to them to join him, to come to where he was physically staying. Jesus invites them in to his home. But, I think the, “and see” may point us toward the deeper layer of Jesus abiding in relationship to the Father. Jesus, I think, is encouraging to see if what they have heard about him is actually true.

That is a challenge.

Over my years of ministry the greatest push back I have received from people who do not follow Jesus is that Christians are hypocrites. So many of their interactions with Christians have been colored by bait and switches or by Christians saying one thing and doing another. Folks see the news that another Christian leader has fallen into moal failure. Some who grew up going to church experienced or witnessed spiritual abuse at the hands of church leaders.

So, when they hear a Christian talking about the message of Jesus, they are skeptical. They are skeptical because their eyes have told them that Christians do not believe the message they are proclaiming. This is because for a long time, many of us have become “go and tell” Christians as opposed to “come and see” Christians. There has been a move in the church of the West to focus on the words we say as opposed to the lives we live. If someone can simply say the right thing, that is all that matters. Yet, this is an anemic form of Christianity, a cheap grace, if you will.

As I reflect on Jesus’ conversation with these two disciples, I desperately want my life to be one that displays the gospel. I don’t my life to be one that asks people to ignore the man behind the curtain. My desire, my hope is that when someone looks at my life they see the reflection of the way of Jesus.

What do I hope for them to see reflected in how I live? I want them to see unconditional love, unconditional grace, unconditional mercy, unconditional compassion, and unconditional empathy. I want my gospel telling to be “come and see.”

Where do I abide? Come and see!

Practice in Serving

Mon, 03 Feb 2025 18:13:49 -0400

Life throws storms our way, and we need to be prepared. We've been exploring spiritual practices to build a strong foundation, like Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount. Last week, we talked about fasting, a practice of abstinence. This week, we're shifting to a practice of engagement: serving.

The Warning: Don't Display Your Righteousness

In Matthew 6:1-4, Jesus says, "Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

Jesus warns against displaying our righteousness. Why? Because true righteousness isn't about showing off; it's about genuine service.

The Problem: Hypocrisy

Jesus uses the word "hypocrite," which means "actor." Are we play-acting at righteousness? Are we putting on a show, or is our service genuine?

Our righteousness comes from Christ. It's a gift of grace. If we're just pretending, we don't truly have His righteousness. That's a sobering thought.

The Call: Quiet, Faithful Service

Jesus calls us to serve quietly and intentionally. He uses the metaphor of not letting your left hand know what your right hand is doing. It's about being intentional in our service, doing it without seeking recognition.

We are made righteous by Christ, and our service should flow from that. As James says, "Pure and undefiled religion is caring for the widows and orphans."

The Example: "A Few Good Men"

Think of the movie "A Few Good Men." The characters are challenged to protect those who can't protect themselves. That's what Jesus is calling us to do.

He doesn't qualify who deserves our help. He simply says, "When you give to the needy." We are to serve because it's who we are, not because someone is worthy.

The Benefit: Joy and Acceptance

Serving others brings joy, and it also allows us to receive help when we need it. When we serve, we understand the joy of receiving help, and we can accept it when it's offered to us.

Your Challenge:

Are you serving? Are you intentionally caring for those in need?
Are you serving in secret? Or are you seeking recognition?

"Needy" isn't just about financial need. It can be relational, emotional, or social. It's about those on the fringes, those who can't help themselves.

Practical Ways to Serve:

Have coffee with someone lonely.
Invite a neighbor to dinner.
Offer a listening ear.

Serving isn't always about grand gestures. It's about loving well.

Prayer:

Heavenly Father, help us serve out of the righteousness you've given us. Keep us from hypocrisy, and help us serve quietly and faithfully. May we hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant." In Jesus' name, Amen.

Jesus in Conversation - Introduction

Thu, 30 Jan 2025 17:37:50 -0400

“Where are you from?”

This is a question that we often ask people when we first meet them. It’s a very normal inclination that we have to want to know where people are from. It provides us with a shorthand that allows us to make assumptions about them.

For instance, if someone says, “I am from Boston,” we are are able to identiyf things we know about Boston and it gives us a frame of reference for this new person. We will likely assume that they like the Red Sox or perhaps clam chowder. Or, if someone tells us they are from Canada we will make assumptions about them and their love of poutine and hockey. Of course, these are surface things. Knowing where someone is from also provides us with a frame of reference for how they might act. Different places have different cultures. Knowing where someone is from helps us have a context about them.

When I read the Gospel narratives it is striking to me the way they open. Each Gospel writer places Jesus to give his readers a context to understand him.

Mark, which is likely the oldest Gospel opens in a hurry. Jesus is placed as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy.

Matthew begins with a genealogy. Jesus is placed in the lineage and line of David. Matthew, wants people to know that Jesus is not just “some guy” but that he is “God’s man”, the true and eternal king of Israel.

Luke begins by making a statement that what you are about to read is fact. He is placing Jesus squarely into history. He wants his readers to know that the Jesus story is not some fanciful myth but that Jesus is a historical figure that really lived and acted in time.

The Gospel of John opens up differently than the other Gospels. It begins like this,

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. - John 1:1-5

John is telling us where Jesus is from, namely, that he is from God and is not just from God but is God. Jesus is from eternity.

Knowing this provides us a context for who Jesus is. That Jesus is different. That Jesus is what we might call, “holy.”

But, then John says something else in his Gospel opening,

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. - John 1:14

Not only does Jesus (the Word) get placed as being from heaven, but John places Jesus in the world. “The Word” makes his dwelling among us. This word, “dwelling,” is the Greek word, σκηνόω which means to take up residence. It is often translated as “tabernacled.” John likely had the idea of the tabernacle from Israel’s wandering in the wilderness, which was where God’s dwelt in their midst. The tabernacle was the predecessor to the Temple.

Eugene Peterson in his translation, The Message, really gets to the heart of the matter when translates this verse,

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, Generous inside and out, true from start to finish. John 1:14, The Message

The image of Jesus moving into the neighborhood drives home the metaphor for us, John is placing Jesus in our midst.

For years now this idea of Jesus moving into the neighborhood was the dominant idea for me in John’s opening. However, I am coming to realize that there is an equally important concept, if not more important, that John uses to place Jesus.

John says, “The Word became flesh.”

If Jesus is placed in proximity to humanity by “dwelling among us”, he is placed in an even deeper way with us by taking on flesh itself. He has become one of us.

I currently serve two congregations. One gathers in Ypsilanti, MI and the other in Flint, MI. These cities are about an hour apart. They are very different in so many ways. I live in Ypsilanti. I socialize in Ypsilanti. My address is in Ypsilanti. My children are from Ypsilanti. I dwell in Ypsilanti. I visit Flint. Every week I spend a few hours on Sunday morning with some of the most beautiful people I know. They are kind and generous and loving. On Tuesdays I spend most of the day in Flint. I have a coffee shop that I am a regular at and have people there that would call me their friend. I love Flint. However, there is always going to be a distance, a sense of separation between me and the people in Flint because I do not dwell there.

By taking on flesh Jesus really and truly dwelled among us.

As we consider these conversations that Jesus has we need to remember that he is having them in the flesh. When we see Jesus and his conversation partners engaging with one another, we have to recognize that it was not some sterile environment in a vacuum.

I want us to try and imagine these conversations taking place with people who had body odor, breath odor, there was background noise, various states of energy. In other words, they all happened in a context. I am going to try and uncover the context as best I can for us. But, we will need to engage our holy imaginations.

Jesus being “in the flesh” means that he was fully present and truly dwelt among us. The conversations were with real people. In real places. At real times.

Jesus in Conversation: A Preface

Tue, 28 Jan 2025 12:10:57 -0400

For a while I have been wrestling with what to write about. I have been wondering if I should just focus on keeping up with the brief daily devotionals or perhaps offering commentary on the news of the day from a pastor’s perspective. As I wandered around the internet, there’s a lot of that going on already. Sure, my “unique” voice would be different, but in so many ways, it feels like I would just be adding to the noise.

To be clear, I have loads of thoughts and opinions obout all the things that are happening in the world today. Whether it’s religion, politics, sports, or pop culture. I have ALL the opinions. If you would like those, then I’d be happy to get a cup of coffee and talk about any and all the things that are on your mind and that you would like my thoughts on.

The idea of adding more noise to the signal was unappealing. There are also people who are so much smarter and so much more interesting than me doing most of that already.

What can I write about that interests me?  Last year I realized that my “why”, the core of what I wanted to be about was, “To be a person faithfully present.”

I think this is the thing that has intrigued me about Jesus. There’s so much that can be said about him on so many levels, but the thing that stands out to me is his faithful presence. In the Gospels we see him interact with all kinds of people from the lowly to the rich and powerful and everyone in between. Jesus engages with his disciples and with those who oppose him.

In every engagement he is fully and faithfully present to the person and people with whom he is talking with.

In this cultural moment when there are many people who are claiming to speak for Jesus I thought it might be helpful to work through his myriad of conversations and see what we might learn from him. How does Jesus deal with those with whom he disagrees? How does he respond to those who are on the fringes of society? Does he practice mercy? Does engage in judgment? Does Jesus extend grace or truth or both? There are so many more questions that we can explore.

I invite you to hang out with me in the Gospels for a while and explore the conversations of Jesus. I will begin in the Gospel of John. This is because the John’s Gospel really focuses on people and conversations. We get some of the longer recorded conversations of Jesus in this Gospel. I will be going slow. There may be multiple posts on one conversation. There might be only one.

I hope that you will comment and respond and offer your questions and insights. This will be so much more fun if you do.

My hope is to publish at least twice per week. It might be more (if I’m feeling inspired). But, the discipline that I am going to commit to is twice per week. I am going to shoot for publishing every Tuesday and Thursday. This should provide me time to practice a bit of lectio diving over each passage and also study and research some too.

Thanks for bearing with me on this little preface.

Practice in Fasting

Sun, 26 Jan 2025 18:28:31 -0400

Over the past few weeks, we've explored spiritual practices to prepare ourselves for life's inevitable storms. We've delved into prayer and Scripture, and this week, we're tackling a topic that might make some of us squirm: fasting.

Most of us associate fasting with doctor's visits or perhaps a trendy diet like intermittent fasting. But today, we're discussing the spiritual discipline of fasting, as Jesus taught in Matthew 6.

Jesus's Expectation: "When You Fast..."

In the midst of his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, "When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly, I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen. And your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." (Matthew 6:16-18)

Notice Jesus doesn't say "if" you fast, but "when." He expects us to engage in this practice.

Beyond Food: Understanding Abstinence

Spiritual practices fall into two categories: engagement (like prayer and Scripture study) and abstinence. Fasting is a practice of abstinence, where we intentionally remove something from our lives.

In our modern world, the idea of sacrifice can be uncomfortable. But consider this: abstaining from excess calories leads to better fitness, and abstaining from screen time can free up time for exercise. Often, what we give up results in greater gain.

What Controls You?

While fasting often brings thoughts of food to mind, it's about more than just skipping meals. It's about identifying what controls us. What do we think about throughout the day? Is it food, our schedules, media, or endless scrolling?

Jesus challenged those who followed him for physical sustenance, not spiritual growth. He asked them, "What are you chasing?"

In our lives, we may not be worried about our next meal, but we are chasing something. What has a grip on your life?

The Challenge of Addiction

When we abstain from something that controls us, we often experience discomfort, even withdrawal. That's because it's often an addiction.

Jesus warns against making a show of our fasting. He says, "Don't let anyone know." This is a personal journey between you and God.

The Reward of Transformation

Fasting is about wrestling with God, allowing Him to remove what controls us. It's about learning self-control, a fruit of the Spirit.

The goal isn't just abstinence; it's transformation. It's about freeing ourselves to engage more deeply with God and others.

Your Challenge This Week:

Identify what controls you. What do you orient your life around?
Abstain from it. For a day, a few hours, or a week, say no.

This might be food, social media, news, or even your phone.

Other Forms of Fasting:

Solitude: Abstaining from people.
Silence: Abstaining from speaking.

Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal what controls you and how you can abstain from it.

Keep it Secret

Remember, keep your fast between you and God, allowing Him to transform you.

Practice in Scripture

Sun, 26 Jan 2025 18:27:41 -0400

We're continuing our series on spiritual practices, exploring how to live out our faith in practical ways. We've emphasized the importance of practice, how it prepares us for life's inevitable storms. Just as athletes train for game day, we need to build our spiritual foundations on solid rock.

Last week, we focused on prayer, suggesting drills like praying the Lord's Prayer daily, reading a Psalm, and practicing gratitude. I even confessed I initially resisted the gratitude exercise, but I'm so glad I tried it! Recording those daily blessings revealed God's constant presence and activity in my life. It's a powerful reminder of His sovereignty, especially when facing tough times.

Today, we're diving into another crucial practice: engaging with Scripture.

The Power of God-Breathed Words

2 Timothy 3:16-17 tells us, "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."

Followers of Jesus are "people of the book." Scripture is a remarkable gift, the Word of God, described in Hebrews as "sharper than any two-edged sword." Our spiritual ancestors, the Jewish people, gathered to read, discuss, and ponder these texts.

Paul highlights that Scripture is useful – it actively shapes us. But many find it challenging, even intimidating. Some have even misused it as a weapon, twisting its meaning to condemn others. And let’s be honest, the idea that the Bible is just a “basic instruction manual before leaving earth” feels simplistic and misses the point.

More Than an Instruction Manual

Think about it: instruction manuals don't change lives. They don't inspire awe or challenge us to grow. Scripture, on the other hand, does all of that. As Romans 12:2 says, we need to have our minds renewed. This happens through interaction with Scripture.

Paul calls it "God-breathed." It's inspired by the Holy Spirit, working through human authors. Reading Scripture is a unique encounter. We connect with the writers and, more importantly, with the One who inspired them.

The Holy Spirit works through Scripture when we approach it in faith. Reading it as a mere historical text or instruction manual won't transform you. But even a child can be moved by God's Word.

Equipped for Every Good Work

Scripture prepares us for "every good work," for those "game day" moments when life throws its toughest challenges. It gives us words when we don't know how to pray, and it provides a framework for engaging with God.

But how do we practically engage with Scripture? Many feel overwhelmed by its complexity.

Lectio Divina: A Divine Reading

For centuries, believers have practiced "Lectio Divina," or divine reading. It's a simple yet profound method:

Read (Lectio): Choose a passage and read it slowly, thoughtfully, repeatedly. Let the words wash over you. Read it aloud, silently, emphasizing different phrases. As Eugene Peterson suggests, approach Scripture like a dog with its favorite bone, savoring every bit.
Reflect (Meditatio): Ponder the passage. Meditate on it, letting it roll around in your mind and heart. Think about each word and phrase, processing and resting in it. Carry it with you throughout the day.
Respond (Oratio): Journal your thoughts. Talk to someone about what you're hearing. Ask yourself, "What is God saying to me?" "How is God speaking?" Write down your responses or share them with a trusted friend.
Rest (Contemplatio): Rest in what God has revealed. This is the heart of Lectio Divina: to encounter God through His Word.

Practical Tips:

Start small: Choose a short passage to begin with.
Be consistent: Set aside a specific time each day for Lectio Divina.
Create a quiet space: Minimize distractions to focus on God's Word.
Be patient. It is a practice, and takes time.

Practice in Prayer

Sun, 12 Jan 2025 17:01:55 -0400

We continue our series on spiritual practices, building upon the importance of practice as preparation for life’s challenges. This week, we focus on prayer. Hebrews 4:14-16 provides a foundation: “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

Many find prayer challenging. It can feel like a mere formality, a quick ritual before meals or travel, often forgotten afterwards. We treat it transactionally, like a shopping list or a magic charm, missing its deeper purpose.

Hebrews 4 reorients us. Verse 16 invites us to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence.” This is a striking image, especially considering the historical context of kings and emperors. To approach a human ruler’s throne required strict etiquette and trepidation. Yet, we are invited to approach God’s throne, not of judgment, but of grace, with confidence.

This throne is a place of acceptance and love, where we receive mercy and grace. Prayer, then, is the confident entry into God’s presence. God is omnipresent, so we are always in His presence. Prayer is the intentional acknowledgment of this presence. It is not confined to a specific location, posture, or words.

Prayer is simply acknowledging and entering God’s presence intentionally. It can occur at a stoplight, during a walk, or before sleep. Falling asleep while praying can be a blessing, a sign of God’s peace.

We can approach God’s throne with confidence because Jesus, our great high priest, understands our weaknesses. He empathizes with us, welcoming us with open arms. Prayer is not a transactional exchange but an intentional communion with God. It is a restoration of the fellowship enjoyed in the Garden of Eden, a walk with God without shame or fear.

How do we practice this? Here are three practical drills:

Pray the Lord’s Prayer daily. Recite it word for word, allowing its meaning to resonate. This prayer, found in Matthew 6:9-13, shapes our perspective and prompts reflection.
Read a Psalm daily. The Psalms are prayers of God’s people, offering insight into their communion with God.
Practice gratitude journaling. At the end of each day, write down three things you are grateful for. This practice reinforces gratitude and deepens reflection.

These drills are not magical incantations but practices that reshape our vision and understanding of prayer. They help us approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, receiving mercy and grace in our time of need.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, thank You for inviting us into Your throne room of grace. Help us to approach You with confidence, receiving Your mercy and grace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Building on the Rock (Introduction to Spiritual Practice)

Sun, 12 Jan 2025 17:01:12 -0400

Life throws punches. Hiding won't help. Jesus, in Matthew 7, compares life to building a house: on rock (His teachings practiced) or sand (hearing only). Storms test our foundation.

"Hear and do" is key. Many hear, few practice. Like athletes training, we must practice faith. Love your enemy? Don't judge? Live it. Practice prepares us for storms, not avoids them.

Hardship tests faith. Without practice, we falter. Following Jesus is challenging, but His yoke is easy with practiced faith.

We build on the rock through prayer, Scripture, service, community, and fasting. These aren't to earn salvation, but to prepare for life's inevitable storms: heartache, pain, a broken world.

Are we prepared? Practice, not just hearing, builds a strong foundation. We'll explore these practices in the coming weeks.

2025: Discipline

Tue, 31 Dec 2024 11:09:52 -0400

Every year we choose a, “word of the year,” in my home. Amy started this a number of years ago. We have embraced the practice. This year, I choose, “discipline.”

Over the last few years I have worked really hard to pursue fitness. I have sought to become spiritually, emotionally, and physically fit. I am grateful that this pursuit of fitness has paid off. I have never been this fit in my life.

This pursuit will never end.

I have developed many good habits. My systems have, for the most part, worked really well.

Over the last year I have been in a pattern of waiting. As I entered in 2024 I didn’t have any sense of what was next for my life.

I still don’t.

As I have been reflecting on this I realized that I don’t need a “next.” I have today and that is enough. This means that each day I can rise from my bed and determine what I will do today and at the end of the day I can reflect on whether or not I was true to my choice of what to do.

To continue my pursuit of fitness I need to remain faithful to the systems that I have developed over the last few years. When they were new, it was easy to embrace them because it was invigorating to enter into these new systems. Now that they are habitual systems it is easy to ignore them.

So, what needs to change?

The next stage of development for me is to embrace the practice of discipline. This is a form of practice that has long eluded me. I can be doggedly determined and I can persevere. But these are not discipline.

At the root of the word discipline is the word, disciple. This means, one who learns.

The practice of discipline is not a practice of negative self-talk or chastisement. It is the ongoing process of learning to be faithful to the kind of person that I am.

Who am I?

I am someone who is fully present spiritually, physically, relationally, and emotionally.

Discipline is the continued and ongoing learning of being that person.

As I reflect on the year that has passed, I think that I have become prideful in the sense that perhaps there was a sense of “I have arrived.” I stopped being disciplined. That is to say, I stopped learning to be who I am. This resulted in stagnation. Stagnation lead to some regression in a variety of areas. This became evident in how I responded recently to a particularly self-created stress situation. The cracks created by my pride broke open and the regression became clear.

In 2025, I am endeavoring to learn again and again and again who I am. I desire to embrace discipline fervently and humbly. I would appreciate your prayer, good thoughts, and good vibes (whatever your preferred nomenclature) as I step enter into a season of discipline.

Revelation and Jude

Sun, 22 Dec 2024 16:57:48 -0400

Missed expectations? Persevere…

1, 2, & 3 John

Tue, 17 Dec 2024 19:08:56 -0400

We explore the central theme of love in John’s letters.

1&2 Peter

Thu, 12 Dec 2024 11:41:12 -0400

A look at the heart of 1&2 Peter

James

Thu, 12 Dec 2024 11:40:39 -0400

We explore an overview of the Book of James

Hebrews

Tue, 26 Nov 2024 11:03:02 -0400

We take a look at the book of Hebrews

1 & 2 Timothy and Titus

Mon, 11 Nov 2024 16:37:01 -0400

We explore the truth that contentment is gain.

1 & 2 Thessalonians

Sun, 03 Nov 2024 16:49:09 -0400

We explore Thessalonians together.

Pastoral Thoughts on Election 2024

Tue, 29 Oct 2024 11:02:03 -0400

We are one week away from an election in the United States. It’s an election that has once again proved to be quite contentious. People are walking away from friends and family who are voting differently from them. I am watching churches devour themselves over politics. There are factions and dissensions that are rising in every corner of our society. In so many ways we continue to walk away from the way of love.

As a pastor there is a constant pressure to support this candidate or that candidate. I have been private messaged more times than I can to admit about why I do not talk about politics from the pulpit or on my social media.

Here’s the thing, everything I preach is politics. Anytime I write about faith or the way of Jesus, it is politics.

How can I say that? Simply, politics has to do with the affairs of the “city” or the governance of the people. The way of Jesus informs us as to how we are to engage with the affairs of all of life.

I have been thinking about a song written by Derek Webb a number of years ago, A New Law.

“don’t teach me about politics and government just tell me who to vote for

don’t teach me about truth and beauty just label my music

don’t teach me how to live like a free man just give me a new law

i don’t wanna know if the answers aren’t easy so just bring it down from the mountain to me

i want a new law i want a new law gimme that new law

don’t teach me about moderation and liberty i prefer a shot of grape juice

don’t teach me about loving my enemies

don’t teach me how to listen to the Spirit

just give me a new law

what’s the use in trading a law you can never keep for one you can that cannot get you anything do not be afraid do not be afraid do not be afraid”

This is the way that so many of us want things to work. What we want is to bounce from one law to another. Learning how to think and wrestle with the nuance of politics and culture is really difficult.

This last week I spent all week in Philippians preparing for worship in Flint and Ypsilanti. The passage that I taught on was Philippians 4:4-9,

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

I dig this passage so much for so many reasons.

In particular as I consider the ramifications for this election, I would like to encourage you to dwell on verse eight, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

If followers of the Jesus Way would use this verse as a lens by which to consider our politics and our voting it would go a long way towards to healing much of what divides us.

Consider these as principles to understand our politics: Is this true? Is this noble? Is this right? Is this pure? Is this lovely? Is this admirable? Is this excellent? Is this praiseworthy? When considering a particular candidate you can change the principle question to, “Does this person promote what is…” and then insert the principle.

As you consider who and what to vote for I challenge you to work your decisions through this framework. Frameworks rooted in these principles will more often than not lead us in the way of love. Do not become beholden to a “new law.” Do not trade one set of unquestioned absolutes for another. Fundamentalism of any stripe leads towards broken relationships.

So, no, I won’t tell you who to vote for. If you are a follower of the Jesus Way, I would encourage you to set your mind on these principles from Philippians 4:8 and allow them to guide you. I am praying that each of you have wisdom, discernment, and follow the way of love.

Philippians

Sun, 27 Oct 2024 09:16:00 -0400

We explore the letter to the Philippians.

Ephesians, Colossians, Philemon

Sun, 20 Oct 2024 14:04:33 -0400

The one where we look at the purpose for our rescue. But also, the one where I keep referring to the letter of Onesimus instead of Philemon.

Galatians

Tue, 15 Oct 2024 11:33:05 -0400

This week we explore the letter to the Galatians as we discuss, "The Gospel."

Tap Room Tuesday Reflection: American Election Process

Wed, 09 Oct 2024 13:49:47 -0400

Tap Room Tuesday, October 8, 2024

The gang got together this week to discuss the American Election process. The opening little discussion was realizing how old we were as we shared our first experience voting for president.

Recap

The conversation kicked off with a discussion about what we thought the country does well in the election process. You see, it’s too easy to dump on it and complain. As it turns out, we discovered quite a few things that we thought were done well. The ease and accessibility of voting was a common theme. I thought that the peaceful transition of power was something we did well. A couple intriguing items of note were that we tabulate votes well and that the process is largely transparent.

From there we engaged in a lively conversation about the things that we didn’t think the country does well. Our agenda was set by a quick whip around of what we didn’t like. Too long of an election cycle, campaign finance, the electoral college, lying in advertising, the loud electoral fringe, and the need for more debates.

We began with the question of campaign finance. There was a concern that only the wealthy have a true voice in politics. The push back was that small individual donors were the primary source of campaign financing. There was some discussion of public funded campaigning. This naturally lead into limiting the election cycle. There was significant push back that with a shortened cycle people would be ill-informed. Finally, we talked about the question of truth telling. This one was very difficult in that most everyone agreed that candidates ought not lie, but having a mechanism to stop it proved elusive. The question of free speech hung heavy and also trying to determine who would be able to watchdog the candidates honestly.

Reflection

If last week was frustrating, this week was amazing. I may have enjoyed our conversation this week more than any in quite a while. I think that the best part for me was that we were able to identify things that are genuinely good about the election process. It’s so easy to complain. It is often more difficult to see the good.

While our election process is not in any way perfect, it is pretty darn good.

Sitting around with a group of people who are all over the map politically it was good to hear that by and large all could agree on the positives and even the negatives. Where the disagreements lay are in the how to fix the issues. This was encouraging to me because it showed again that often in our disagreements, the roots are shared frustrations. If we could remember that, I think we would be much more kind in our interactions.

I’ll leave you with this skit from Saturday Night Live…

Hospitals Not Courts

Tue, 08 Oct 2024 12:08:47 -0400

I think one of my favorite questions that Jesus is asked in the Gospels is, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners? (Luke 5:30)” Every time I read it, it makes me smile.

This particular questions comes after Levi is called to follow Jesus. Levi was a tax collector and was likely considered a traitor to his people. The tax collectors of any age, it seems, are despised by everyone. Levi, after being invited to follow Jesus throws a party at his place. His community shows up and the religious elite were not impressed. How could Jesus eat and drink with those people?

How did Jesus respond to the question? “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. (Luke 5:31)”

This is a bit of a shock if I think deeply on this response. When we hear of a sick person what is our typical response? I think for most of us it is a response of empathy, sympathy, and compassion. We earnestly pray for the sick. Neighbors pull together meals and care for the sick. Our hearts are moved for the ill.

When Jesus looks at those who are “sinners” he apparently does not see people who are failures to be condemned. No, he sees them as people who are sick and need to be cared for. Spiritual sickness is just as real as physical or mental illness. Yet, our response to spiritual sickness is not often empathy, sympathy, and compassion. As Eugene Peterson says in his magisterial, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, our response is too often a spiritual elitism.

Being confronted with a sick person usually does not lead us to a response of, “Boy, I’m so much better than you.” No, it engenders in us, “But by the grace of God, go I.” In opposition to a sense of elitism it is a sense of grace.

I think that this mindset needs to be recaptured by the church. What if we understood sin as an illness as opposed to a moral failing? What if we understood the gospel as something that brings spiritual healing as opposed to simply a judicial response?

Too many of us would shoot Jesus the same side eye as the religious elite of his own day. We know this, because we can look around at many of our responses to fellow believers who are faithfully present in the lives of those people. Have you ever uttered, “No true Christian could…”? I know I have.

I have done so to my own shame.

When I utter those words they are un-Christlike. When I utter those words I am undercutting the power of the gospel of grace.

Someone reading may think, “Ah, so you don’t think anyone should be held accountable for their actions?” With Paul, I cry, “By no means!” I am learning that a punitive judgement is not the gospel response. Like a good doctor, we must discern how to apply grace to bring healing. There are times when that will require a hard conversation. There are times when it will require patient listening. Jesus responses to the variety of people he interacts with in the Gospels is instructive. He responds to each person exactly how they need so that they might be in the best possible position to receive the grace offered.

The church is at its best when it understands itself as hospital not law court.

Tap Room Tuesday Reflection: Qualified Immunity

Wed, 02 Oct 2024 14:55:16 -0400

Tap Room Tuesday, October 1, 2024

This past Tuesday evening the crew once again gathered to talk face to face. We had a quality discussion about qualified immunity. But, we began with learning about one another’s favorite childhood movie. Psycho and The Brave Little Toaster were the two big surprises for me.

The Recap

The question before us was, “Do we need qualified immunity? Is it something that simply opens the door for people in authority to wield unlimited power with no repercussions? If we do need qualified immunity how do we hold public officials accountable for their indiscretions?”

To begin we defined “qualified immunity” this way, “Qualified immunity provides protection from civil lawsuits for law enforcement officers and other public officials. It attempts to balance the need to allow public officials to do their jobs with the need to hold bad actors accountable. (FindLaw)”

Very quickly there was a clear divide between. Almost immediately a couple said we absolutely needed qualified immunity and a couple said that we absolutely did not need it. Those for it argued that people in positions of authority would not be able to do their jobs without it, as they would be in a constant of worry for civil lawsuits for unintended consequences of decisions and actions made while performing their duties. Those who held that we don’t need qualified immunity argued that it creates an environment where abuse is rampant as people in power cannot be held accountable for their bad actions.

When asked how to protect people from the possible bad actors with QI, the argument from the pro-side argued that there are rules that govern QI and as a result when people break the law, QI doesn’t protect them. The con-side argued that people are not really protected as those with power never face the consequences of their actions.

Of particular concern were the issues of presidential immunity. The issues that were raised here were very much rooted in the dysfunction of our government. While Congress ought to be checking the power or the executive and judicial branches they don’t seem to be able to do so. Some argued that this is why QI needs to be eliminated. Others argued that this is means that people need to vote out those who are not doing the job and vote in people who will.

Reflection

As I reflect on the conversation last night I think it highlighted many of the issues that our country as a whole faces. You could say it was a microcosm. We had two sides of an issue where neither side was willing to consider the position of the other. I think of this particularly in light of how QI relates to police officers. We need QI so that police can do their jobs without worrying about being sued in civil court by people who have done reprehensible things. At the same time, we have to ensure that police don’t hide behind QI when they go beyond the scope of their power.

There’s a both/and here. To simply ignore the concerns of one side or the other is to miss the point of the conversation.

I was left at the end of our discussion a little sad that we did not really engage with one another’s ideas.

It seems to me that QI is necessary. Yet, there is also a need to lift those protections when people in authority have abused their position. Some of this is already in place. Perhaps though, it needs to be more explicit and the lines need to be ever more clear.

Next Up

Join us Tuesday, October 8 at 8 pm in the Tap Room Annex for a conversation about American Elections.

1 & 2 Corinthians

Sun, 29 Sep 2024 16:31:48 -0400

We explore briefly 1 and 2 Corinthians.

Tap Room Tuesday Reflection: What Makes a Good Citizen?

Fri, 27 Sep 2024 14:30:15 -0400

Tap Room Tuesady 9/24/2024

The crew was gathered around some deep fried food and cold beers for a conversation about what makes a good citizen. The buzz about the Tigers was growing. The dad jokes from Major Tom flowed. It was a pretty great night!

The Recap

We began the evening discussing what movie or TV Show do you wish you could watch again for the first time. This provided for some good laughs and some great recommendations. Cheers, Big Bang Theory, The Office, and the Fifth Element were notable responses. A fun little trivia bit is that Major Tom’s brother was a producer on Cheers. How cool is that?

As we took a deep dive into the question on what makes a good citizen, there was an interesting differentiation that came about: being a good person and a good citizen are not necessarily the same thing. Yet, some of the things that make for a good citizen definitely cross over into being a good person. That, is a good person could, potentially not be a good citizen. To vote regularly was considered to be of importance in being a good citizen. A few people brought up the importance of integrity and ethical behavior as something that qualifes one for good citizenship. Finally, the question of education came about. How can we ensure an educated electorate? There was no answer, but everyone agreed we are failing miserably to do so.

As the evening continued, we discussed voting and if there should be limits on who gets to vote or if there were qualifications that needed to be enforced to allow someone to vote. It got really interesting when we discussed the issue of unhoused people. To vote, you have to have an address. Yet, many of these people cannot provide one. How can we ensure that people without homes are not disenfranchised? There was some interesting discussion that any requirement you put on voting is ultimately a “poll tax” and as such is not kosher. Some disagreed, arguing that you need some sort of way to ensure that whomever is voting is the one actually voting. We also discussed the question of felons voting. Something that everyone tended to agree with was that certain felonies ought not disqualify but others really should. How to make that distinction? Well, that’s where we ended up punting.

The Reflection

I am so thinkful for the conversations that we are having around the table at the Tap Room. I am learning much and leaving with so much to think about. The people who gather on these Tuesday nights are thoughtful and kind.

When it comes to the question of what makes a good citizen, I think the moral question is foundational. I find that when people seek to act in the best interest of their neighbor it makes them into a good citizen. I’d argue that to be truly moral one is to love their neighbor. Could you imagine if all of us considered the good of our neighbor as our primary responsibility of being a citizen?

One might say that to be a good citizen is to “love your neighbor as yourself.”

Next Up

On October 1, 2024 our topic will be, “Qualified Immunity.” I hope to see you all out for another rousing discussion at the Tap Room!

He Lives Here

Fri, 27 Sep 2024 13:53:36 -0400

When I meet someone new one of the first questionst that I ask them is, “Where are you from?” Where someone is from tells you a lot about them. It provides a context for you to understand at least a little about how they might move through the world or the kinds of experiences that they may have.

One of the saddest things I’ve experienced was during a service trip to Eastern Kentucky. We were in Menifee County which is one of the poorest countries in the United States. The people there are kind and loving but they do not have much. I was talking with a mother and daughter. I had asked where they lived. Their faces fell, “Well the government just took our post office, they say where we live doesn’t exist anymore. Just like that where we’ve lived our whole lives just no longer exists. Cause, we can tell you that where they say we live, we sure as heck don’t.”

There is something about where we live that is part of our identity. Where we are from in so many ways helps us understand who we are.

In Matthew we read,

When Jesus heard that John had been put in prison, he withdrew to Galilee. Leaving Nazareth, he went and lived in Capernaum, which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali— to fulfill what was said through the prophet Isaiah:
“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”

From that time on Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Matthew 4:12-17

We get very caught up on the “to fulfill” bit and many preachers have spent many hours talking about that. Or, we focus on the “Jesus began to preach…” bit and again, many have spilt much ink and many words on that bit.

But, did you catch the little detail that Matthew dropped about Jesus? “He went and lived in Capernaum.”

A lot of mileage has been traveled talking about Jesus being a traveling preacher. Which he was in many ways, but, he was from somewhere. He had a home. He lived in Capernaum. I am guessing if someone were to ask, “where are you from?” Capernaum would have been the answer.

Being from Capernaum turns out to be mission critical. It sets up everything else in the passage, the way more interesting bits that people like to dwell on. But, if he’s not from Capernaum then it doesn’t matter. Jesus set down some roots. He lived some place. Jesus lived in Capernaum.

As we consider what it means to be the church, we have to keep returning to the reality that we are to be from some place. Where we live shapes us.

I think a lot of churches need to think long and hard about what it means to be from some place. Do the people we worship alongside participate in the life of the broader community or do they largely only participate in the programs of the local congregation? Just because we have a church building in particular zip code doesn’t mean that we are putting down roots there. It doesn’t meant that we are part fo the community.

To say this another way, we must be present in our neighborhoods and towns and cities. If we are going to follow the way of Jesus, we must really live in these places.

Here is a way to discover if your are living in your community: Are there any places where you know the names of people who work there and they know yours? When I go to our local school, my golf course, my bowling alley, my coffee shop, and my pub there are people who know me and I know them. We have had real conversations. When I am there, I am present.

Do you live somewhere or you just passing through?

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Romans

Sun, 22 Sep 2024 15:41:14 -0400

An overview of the heart of Romans

Acts

Thu, 19 Sep 2024 10:40:49 -0400

We dive into a discussion about the book of Acts.

Tap Room Tuesday Reflection: What Qualifies Someone for Public Office

Wed, 18 Sep 2024 11:53:52 -0400

Tap Room Tuesday 9/17/24

Once again we gathered together to spend time talking about things that mattered in the Annex of the Tap Room in downtown Ypsilanti. It was a bit difficult for me to fully focus as I my attention was somewhat divided with the Tigers in the playoff hunt.

The Recap

The conversation was robust as we took on the question about what qualifies someone for public office.

We discussed some of the more subjective issues first. Everyone basically agreed that there were some non-negotiables for a person to be qualified for office. Honesty was one trait that came up for everyone. Being ethical was also a key component for everyone. Interestingly, only one person suggested that for someone to be qualified for office they needed to demonstrate the ability to actually get something done. Along those lines, there was some good conversation about the need to be able to put together a team of experts who can navigate the difficult technicalities of writing legislation.

The bulk of our discussion was about objective qualifications. These were boiled down to a few things. First, when it comes to legislators folks want the minimum age requirement to be increased to 25. The thought was this would give potential legislators time to become educated and also get a “real” job. This is the second thing that the crew wanted added, people running for public office have to have had a non-politics related job for at least 3 or 4 years. Add to this a minimum education requirement for at least an Associate’s Degree. There was some challenge to that as this would disqualify people who attend trade schools. We didn’t really get a concession either way, but all acknowledge the need for some education beyond high school for people running for public office. It was also determined that someone could not hold office while also running for a different office (for instance a Senator would need to leave their office immediately to run for VP or POTUS). One last thing that was discussed was a maximum age requirement. This ranged from the social security age (62.5) to 73ish. These maximums would be when one would be leaving office not running for office.

We closed our time talking about what would convince you to vote for someone who didn’t meet your subjective qualifications for public office. Some said that a candidate with a specific expertise that would meet a particular need in office was something that could move them from their subjective qualifications. Another thing was shared values. For instance, if the candidate for office was involved in charitable organizations, or showed other things in their private that displayed shared values.

Reflection

As I moderated this conversation, I noticed that it was very difficult for us to offer positive qualities. We wanted to keep moving toward what negates someone from being qualified for public office. I think this displays the nature of our political climate in a very stark reality. We have become, by and large a people who vote against someone as opposed to voting for someone.

I wonder, what if we as an electorate identified the non-negotiable qualities we want to see in our public officials and then only for women and men who had those qualities, could we make change? I want to believe we could. I want to believe that we have a system that is indeed responsive to the will of the electorate.

Next week, we are going to discuss what it means to be a good citizen in our democratic republic. I hope you will join us at 8 pm in the Annex of the Tap Room in downtown Ypsilanti.

Party Time! Excellent!

Wed, 18 Sep 2024 11:14:53 -0400

I think one of my favorite stories about Jesus is the wedding at Cana in John 2. The whole thing is fantastic. All the little details and the feel that you get from the scene which allows you to fill the blank spots with your imagination.

First, how many of us think about Jesus as being someone who goes to parties? It’s not the usual image that pops into most people’s heads. Why? Because so many of his followers would be so uncomfortable in such an environment. Could you imagine many church people being at a party where the booze was being drunk in such quantity that it ran out? Of course not. Christian parties are typically dry. Yet, here’s Jesus at a wedding feast where the party was going so hard they ran out of wine!

Second, the whole interaction with Mary. She just ignores him and rolls over him as though he didn’t even speak. Not to mention him being be a bit annoyed by her, “Woman…” They have such a normal mother/son interaction, it’s just brilliant storytelling by John.

So often the focus of the story is set on the miraculous turning of water into wine. In the church world people use this passage for arguing over whether or not it’s OK for Christians to drink alcohol. There are rabid discussions about what’s happening and what does “wine” mean.

As I consider what it means to be the church, the miracle is kind of like a plate of baby carrots next to homemade ranch dip. The carrots simply function as a means by which to get ranch dip into my mouth. The miracle is the means by which something more is displayed.

What absolutely had to be true for this miracle to take place?

Jesus had to be present.

Jesus was not hanging out in the synagogue. He wasn’t offering sacrifice at Temple. No, Jesus was at the wedding feast. He was present at the party.

Jesus had just begun his public ministry. He was just baptized by John and had just called his first disciples. Now, on the “third day” he shows up to a wedding. It doesn’t seem like that would be high on the agenda for a would-be Messiah. If he were following the church growth launch-large model my guy would have pulled off some huge public miracle in the center of town or done some preaching. But not Jesus. He shows up in the neighborhood for the party (and yes does a miracle but does so behind the scenes).

For me, the big part of this story is that Jesus was present in the neighborhood and was present with his disciples. He modeled for them this presence.

Too many pastors spend most of their time in the office and church building. People have to come to them. Very few show up to the bonfires and cookouts and are present in their neighborhood. Too many of us are not modeling life outside the church building.

The church is to be centered on presence. We are to be the people that show up in our neighborhood.

Jesus put this on display and said it the best, “…be in the world…”

In other words, go to the party.

Make This Place A Home

Thu, 12 Sep 2024 11:03:20 -0400

One of my favorite movies is Garden State starring Zach Braff. There is an amazing conversation that takes place between his character, Large and Natalie Portman’s character, Sam. They talk about what home is.

>Large: You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in…isn’t really your home anymore. All of a sudden, even though you have some place where you put your shit…that idea of home is gone. > >Sam: I still feel at home in my house. > >Large: You’ll see one day when you move out. Just sorta happens one day, and it’s gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe it’s like this rite of passage, you know? You won’t ever have that feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself. You know, for… For your kids. For the family you start. It’s like a cycle or something. I don’t know. But I miss the idea of it, you know? Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.

It’s one of those scenes that resonates with me, deeply. I think that there was a time in my life that I would have said, “absolutely the idea of home is imaginary.” Yet, I don’t think that anymore.

I think that “home” is where we choose to be present.

As I read through the Gospels I am struck by the poignancy that three of the narratives contain some form of birth narrative (Mark doesn’t have one). It is important for us to realize that God breaking into the world as fully man was not accidental, it was a choice, a decision, it was intentional.

Eugene Peterson renders John 1:14a this way, “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.”

In Jeremiah 29:4-7 we read, “This is what the LORD Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” In other words, move into the neighbor hood and create a home.

There is a long history of being present. In a very real sense, Jesus was experiencing exile. He chose to be exiled on our behalf and yet “moved into the neighborhood.” In the Jeremiah passage, we see God’s recommendation to the people in exile to settle down and ultimately to “seek the peace and prosperity of the city” by creating for themselves a home.

Jesus chooses to be present. God’s people in exile are challenged to be present.

Often we, as Christians, talk about how this world is not our home. When we talk like this I think we are undercutting our calling as followers of Jesus. As a primary responsibility for being the people of God, is to choose to be present in the place that we find ourselves. We have all been with people who are physically with us but are anything but present with us. If we are constantly telling ourselves we are not “home” then we will find ourselves unable to be present. We will not be creating home.

The church is to be seeking the peace and prosperity of the place it finds itself in. To do this demands that we choose to be fully present in the place that we live. Here is one practical step we could intentionally make toward this end. I think that we as the American church need to rethink some of our strategic priorities. Particularly, I think we need to free the people in our congregations to be present and involved in the life of our local communities. Almost every single service organization in our communities is in dire need of volunteers. Churches have service minded people who could be freed up to meet these needs. What if the church intentionally freed up its members to do this? We would naturally begin praying for and helping to bring about the peace and prosperity of our towns and cities. These places would feel more like home than ever before.

Where can you serve in your town or neighborhood? How can you become more present where you live? What steps can you take to make this place your home?

Tap Room Tuesday Reflection: Civility

Wed, 11 Sep 2024 13:44:20 -0400

The crew gathered for the first time in over a month in the Tap Room Annex this past Tuesday for the return of Tap Room Tuesday. This little gathering was once called Doubt on Tap, but over the last ten years or so it has become something more than that. It’s become a community.

So, Tuesday nights we gather around the table and discuss things that matter.

The Recap

This past week we spent our time discussing the question of civility in public discourse. To begin our evening we needed to wrestle with the definition of “public discourse.” To this end, we determined that there were some different kinds of public discourse. Perhaps we could think about it in three buckets. The first bucket, discussing issues with friends. This could be the proverbial water cooler, bonfire, or conversations on the bar stool. The second bucket, is social media. Whether we like it or hate it social media is public discourse and Facebook and X are the primary public squares of our day. Finally, there is the public discourse that occurs when public figures speak.

With those three buckets identified, our conversation turned to discussion about what has caused the loss of civility in these three buckets. We identified a few root causes to this loss of civility. The rise of the 24/7 news cycle was cited as something that has changed the nature of discourse by public figures. The reasoning was that with a 24/7 news cycle public figures are competing for attention constantly. This constant competition demands that public figures speak in ever increasing shocking ways to rise above the noise and grab headlines. This was contrasted to an age gone by where due to the limited nature of news, key ideas were more important than simple bombast.

Also, the rise of social media was pointed to as a cause for the loss of civility. It was argued that social media isolates people into silos and also allows people to disassociate their words from the ramifications of those words. It was also pointed out that this also incentivises public figures to try and grab attention in any way possible.

There was also some conversation about the shift in the way people respond to having their ideas challenged. Over the last 15 to 20 years it seems as though a challenge to an idea is a challenge to identity. As a result, engaging over public issues becomes harder and harder to do. This is because people feel that when someone disagrees with them they somehow despise them.

This lead to the conclusion of our evening, “Can civility be recaptured in public discourse?” The crew was split. Some said, absolutely not. Because the conditions that have destroyed civility will simply continue to grow. Some argued that at some point there will be a tipping point where the public will demand it.

The Reflection

As I have reflected on our conversation last night it struck me that there was an undercurrent of cynicism around the table. It seemed that each of us in our own subtle ways were jaded by what we have experienced and seen in the public discourse over the last number of years.

I believe it was Yuval Levin that has said that cynicism is impossible to maintain. I agree. Eventually, our cynicism toward public discourse will either be broken or we will simply give in to incivility.

My hope is that we will break from our cynicism. In so doing that we will capture again an ethic of loving our neighbor and loving our enemy (who happens to be our neighbor) as ourselves. Civil discourse begins on patios and porches, in coffee shops and pubs. I am convinced that local and national leaders reflect the people whom they represent. We can, if we choose, raise the bar.

As I reflect on my own heart, I want to move beyond social media screes and have meaningful conversations with neighbors and friends and family. I want to dig deep into why people think what they think and why I do as well. Perhaps, if enough of us take the step to move back into real life, we can eventually see public discourse return to a place of civility and respect.

Invitation

If this sounds like a conversation you’d like to have been part of, please join us Tuesday nights at 8 pm in the Tap Room Annex in Ypsilanti, MI.

Welcome to the Mess

Tue, 10 Sep 2024 11:09:31 -0400

As I look at the landscape of the American church today I see so much that leaves me sad. My social media feeds are flooded with people who are rightly criticizing the American church, it’s not hard to do. We have failed across the board in so many ways. Everywhere I look I can find examples of what not to do. If clicks and popularity in the online space is the primary factor for being online then it appears a Christian “thought leader” or “influencer” can go one of two ways. They can become political megaphones for one side or the other. The other way is to become a constant voice of critique of the Church or a non-stop defender of the Church regardless of the issue.

I confess that there was a moment when I began to be very attracted to simply critiquing everything. It’s so easy. There’s so much to critique.

I didn’t like what I was becoming.

So, I stopped writing and publishing for a while. I needed the break. I needed to stop and reflect and take a stock of the state of my own soul.

The question that I began to wrestle with is, “Instead of being a state of constant critique can I actually be communicating to the world a way to be the church?”

As I have reflected on that question it became apparent that I can and that to do so will demand answering so many other questions. What should we as the Church be in the world? What does it mean to follow the way of Christ? How can we be ambassadors with a message of reconciliation?

It won’t be very click-baity stuff. But, I want to write and publish a positive vision of what the Church can be. Likely this means that people on either side of ideological divide will get frustrated or think I’m being vague. That’s OK. As we pursue a way of being it means that we will inevitably have to move beyond the either/or to so much both/and. “Keeping in step with the Spirit,” as Paul writes demands presence, listening, and learning to be in the midst of the mess.

So, that’s the direction I’m going to head, I hope you will come along for the ride. In other words, welcome to the mess.

The Gospels

Sun, 08 Sep 2024 15:50:34 -0400

Our survey of the Bible continues as we enter the New Testament and look briefly at the four gospels.

Ezra and Nehemiah

Sun, 08 Sep 2024 15:50:24 -0400

We finish our survey of the Old Testament

Esther and Daniel

Sun, 25 Aug 2024 17:53:58 -0400

We take a look at the writings during the exile.

Obadiah, Haggai, Zechariah, Joel, and Malachi

Sun, 25 Aug 2024 17:52:20 -0400

We explored the post-exilic prophets.

Nahum, Zephaniah, Habbakuk, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah

Mon, 05 Aug 2024 07:38:28 -0400

We explore the prophets to pre-Exile Judah.

Jonah, Amos, Hosea, Micah, Isaiah

Sun, 28 Jul 2024 14:13:58 -0400

We explore the core theme of the pre-Assyrian exile prophets.

Job, Proverbs, Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes

Sun, 21 Jul 2024 15:34:29 -0400

The foundation of wisdom

Kings and Chronicles

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 11:05:53 -0400

Actions really do have consequences.

Psalms and Lamentations

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 11:03:39 -0400

The poetry of the people of God

1 & 2 Samuel

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 11:01:43 -0400

Do you really want a king?

Judges and Ruth

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 10:59:37 -0400

Is the law good?

Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers

Tue, 16 Jul 2024 10:57:14 -0400

We explore the law in Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers.

Genesis

Wed, 05 Jun 2024 14:16:04 -0400

We explore the main theme of Genesis.

Why Does the Bible Matter? // 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Sun, 26 May 2024 13:58:50 -0400

We continues our “Summer of Scripture” with a conversation about “why” the Bible matters.

What is the Bible? // 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Tue, 21 May 2024 09:49:41 -0400

We are beginning a series of messages on the Bible. We begin with, what is the Bible?

ordinary jesus: acta non verba // Matthew 7:21-29

Mon, 13 May 2024 07:41:49 -0400

We wrap up our series on the Sermon on the Mount

ordinary jesus - no shortcuts // Matthew 7:13-2”

Mon, 06 May 2024 09:34:11 -0400

We take a look at what Jesus has to say about shortcuts to spiritual growth.

ordinary jesus: a simple rule // Matthew 7:7-12

Sun, 28 Apr 2024 16:01:02 -0400

We take a look at being direct with God

ordinary jesus: pearls before pigs //Matthew 7:1-6

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 16:41:18 -0400

To judge or not to judge…

ordinary jesus: choosing god worship //Matthew 6:19-34

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 16:39:31 -0400

What happens to our lives when we choose God worship?

The Great Reconciliation // Colossians 1:15-23

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 16:37:30 -0400

It’s Easter!

ordinary jesus: ordinary rewards // Matthew 6:5-18

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 16:35:26 -0400

A conversation about getting what we deserve… well sort of…

ordinary jesus - quiet righteousness // Matthew 6:1-4

Fri, 22 Mar 2024 10:06:25 -0400

We take a look at Jesus’ call to a quiet righteousness

ordinary jesus - did i stutter?

Tue, 05 Mar 2024 10:52:05 -0400

We dive into Jesus command to love your enemies...

Disentangling Faith From Party Politics

Tue, 27 Feb 2024 17:21:09 -0400

Over the last number of years in the United States of America Christianity and politics have become so intertwined that in some places they are almost indistinguishable. The rise of the “Moral Majority” and the “Religious Right” have turned Christians into a voting bloc to be used. Now, the political left is even getting in on the act. Christianity bought into a bill of goods that argued that if there was support for a certain political agenda then Christianity would have greater cultural influence.

Today, we are now reaping what those decisions have sown.

People outside the faith see people who loudly profess their Christian faith complicit in their support of political leaders, who in life and policy, are sub-Christian at best. Those on the outside looking in experience Christians as very much saying a “Good for me, not for thee.” They see the hypocrisy of a faith that purports to follow in the way of love as supporting political agendas that are anything but.

I have been thinking about an interaction between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day:

Then the Pharisees went out and laid plans to trap him in his words. They sent their disciples to him along with the Herodians. “Teacher,” they said, “we know that you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are. Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?”
But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” they replied.

Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

When they heard this, they were amazed. So they left him and went away. (Matthew 22:15-22)

Jesus sniffed out the trap. If he said “Pay the taxes,” the Pharisees would call him a traitor to the people. If he said, “Don’t pay the taxes,” the Herodians would bring him up on charges as a traitor to the Empire. He was in a lose-lose situation. What does he do? He flips the whole thing on its head.

As I continue to wrestle with this interaction, I think we miss the point of what is going on here when we focus purely on the money question. I think we have to think about the ramifications of the subtext. Where did Jesus’ loyalties lie? With whom was he aligned? Rome or Israel?

Jesus, in effect seeks to pull the two apart.

I think that when we have a proper view of faith, we realize that our following of Jesus is primary. When this realization hits then we can in a sense “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s.” We can do so because then our political engagement becomes one that is based on an organizing principle of “love God and love people.” When we do this, we are no longer beholden to party politics.

When we start pulling the tangle of lights on the religious political left and right we find that things have gotten disordered. For too many Christians political identity has become the primary lens through which they view the world. That is, a particular political agenda is what they think will “fix” the world.

“If only this particular political solution could be instituted then all would be right in the world.” Or so the thinking goes. But, this isn’t the truth.

I’m reminded of Joshua when he is leading the Israelites into the promised land. Moses had recently died and Joshua has ascended to the position of leadership. He had a couple of quick military successes and is about to challenge the great city of Jericho when has this interaction,

Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”
“Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come.” Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?”

The commander of the LORD’s army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so. (Joshua 5:13-15)

Who was the Commander of the Army of the LORD for? Well, obviously it would be the Israelites, right? WRONG. The answer was, “Neither.”

You see, when it comes to the political maneuvering of our tiny governments God is for, “neither.” Once again, God is pulling the whole way we think about politics and power apart. God, from the beginning was about doing what was right, not about picking sides. God’s ways are not our ways. God doesn’t play power politics. God is at work bringing God’s covenant promises to pass through grace, mercy, and love.

It is no wonder that as emerging generations (and even older folks) begin to take their faith seriously they can see how many in previous generations have become co-opted by modern day “Caesars.” When they challenge this, they are told that to be a Christian is to be a member of the party. If you’re not with the party, then you’re not a Christian. You can’t be. So, they walk away.

Many people I know who are older saw this phenomenon in the Catholic Priest scandals of the 70s and 80s. They called it out and were silenced and walked away.

Now, we are seeing this in the realm of party politics.

This is not to say that Christians are to not be politically engaged. It means that our faith must be the primary lens by which political engagement is understood. When we lead with a principled faith position we will find that there is neither a political home on the right or the left. Both “Caesars” will be found wanting.

When we disentangle faith from party politics we begin to align more and more with Jesus’ statement to “give to God” and “give to Caesar.”

If you look around and can’t believe a Christian can “vote for that party,” then you are most likely placing political identity before your identity in Christ. A significant part of my ministry since 2016 has been helping people understand that to be a member of a particular political party is not necessary to be a follower of Jesus.

The way of love transcends the demands of modern day party politics.

It is time to disentangle from party politics and say with the Commander of the Army of Lord, “Neither.”

Disentangling Faith From Party Politics

Tue, 27 Feb 2024 10:00:00 -0400

Today, we are now reaping what those decisions have sown.

I have been thinking about an interaction between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day:

Then the Pharisees went out and laid plans to trap him in his words. They sent their disciples to him along with the Herodians. “Teacher,” they said, “we know that you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are. Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?”
But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” they replied.

Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

When they heard this, they were amazed. So they left him and went away. (Matthew 22:15-22)

Jesus, in effect seeks to pull the two apart.

“If only this particular political solution could be instituted then all would be right in the world.” Or so the thinking goes. But, this isn’t the truth.

Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”
“Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come.” Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?”

The commander of the LORD’s army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so. (Joshua 5:13-15)

Who was the Commander of the Army of the LORD for? Well, obviously it would be the Israelites, right? WRONG. The answer was, “Neither.”

Many people I know who are older saw this phenomenon in the Catholic Priest scandals of the 70s and 80s. They called it out and were silenced and walked away.

Now, we are seeing this in the realm of party politics.

When we disentangle faith from party politics we begin to align more and more with Jesus’ statement to “give to God” and “give to Caesar.”

The way of love transcends the demands of modern day party politics.

It is time to disentangle from party politics and say with the Commander of the Army of Lord, “Neither.”

ordinary jesus - integrity // Matthew 5:27-37

Sun, 25 Feb 2024 16:38:36 -0400

We explore Jesus’ call to “let your yes be yes and your no be no.”

ordinary jesus - we’re all murderers

Sun, 18 Feb 2024 14:32:12 -0400

We look at Matthew 5:21-26 and Jesus’ call to include and transcend the command to not murder.

Why Them?

Sat, 17 Feb 2024 10:22:14 -0400

Psalm 25:1-10; Psalm 32; Matthew 9:2-13

Later when Jesus was eating supper at Matthew’s house with his close followers, a lot of disreputable characters came and joined them. When the Pharisees saw him keeping this kind of company, they had a fit, and lit into Jesus’ followers. “What kind of example is this from your Teacher, acting cozy with crooks and misfits?”

This story about what happened after the calling of Matthew resonates so deeply with me. I just love everything about it. First, the fact that Jesus calls Matthew, a tax collector, to join him as a disciple makes me smile. Tax Collectors were (and are) some of the most despised people in Palestine. He was considered a traitor to his people. Matthew was probably skimming and probably taxing the people a bit more than he ought to line his own pockets. Matthew was not a guy that anyone in Jesus’ merry band would have chosen to associate with.

But, then it gets better.

Matthew throws Jesus a party and all kinds of disreputable characters show up. The Pharisees are nearly apoplectic.

Over the course of my years in ministry I have found myself associating less and less with church people. I find myself standing on the outside looking in at Christian subculture. My people are the ones at the pubs and cafes.

It’s pretty funny to receive the scorn of the modern day Pharisees.

I imagine Jesus just smirking and shaking his head as he responded to their critique, “Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick? Go figure out what this Scripture means: ‘I’m after mercy, not religion.’ I’m here to invite outsiders, not coddle insiders.”

Too many of us are way too worried about being “above reproach” and not worried enough about loving well.

It’s just too easy to get focused on coddling insiders than it is to invite outsiders. For pastors, in particular, the insiders are our “customers.” We forget that our primary responsibility is not to the 99 but to the 1. What’s just as sad is that the 99 forget that they were at one time the 1.

This morning I’m pondering the reality that as a pastor I have this dual calling. The call to care for the insiders and those on the outside. How do I orient myself to this dual calling? How do I consistently hold a posture of loving well?

One Who Receives Grace

Thu, 15 Feb 2024 12:55:26 -0400

Psalm 25:1-10; Daniel 9:1-14; 1 John 1:3-10

I love that passage from 1 John that almost feels contradictory.

On the one hand, if we claim to be in the light but still bounce around in darkness we are liars. One the other hand, if we claim to be without sin then we are also liars.

It almost seems hopeless, doesn't it?

How can someone be in the light and still be struggling with sin? Aren't we supposed to be perfect and holy? Aren't we supposed to be free from the darkness?

This to me is the beauty of the Way of Christ. There is a standard that we are called to, a standard of holiness in the light. Yet, there is a reality that we will not be perfect and we will struggle with things. The Way of Christ simply says, “Own it. Embrace the reality that you need grace, forgiveness, and mercy.”

To be in the light is not to be perfect. To be in the light is to be honest. To live with integrity. To be one who acknowledges one's own imperfection.

To be one who receives grace.

What an overwhelming thought! To be in the way of Christ is to be one who receives grace. To be in the way of Christ is not to be perfect, it is not to have it all together, it is recognize that I don't have it all together and nobody else does either.

So, grace abounds!

— Discuss...

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Push Comes to Shove

Wed, 14 Feb 2024 10:59:20 -0400

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17; Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Today is Ash Wednesday the beginning of Lent. For the next 40 days Christians around the world will fast in various ways to prepare for the coming of Resurrection Sunday. This is the high holy day where we celebrate the resurrection of Christ. It was this moment that sets Jesus apart from all other would-be messiahs. The empty tomb is the key moment of our faith.

Ash Wednesday is the stark reminder that get to the resurrection Christ first had to go to the cross.

Many will wear ashes on their foreheads today to remind them of their mortality. The ashes signify that from dust we came, to dust we return. Just as Christ died, so too will we die.

The passages for today's readings point us in the direction of why there was a cross. There was a cross because we through our hypocrisy had separated ourselves from God.

Even though we might act like we honor God, in our hearts there is something else going on.

What is it? What else is going on?

It is this desire to honor ourselves. It is humanity playing out the temptations in the wilderness between Jesus and The Accuser in each of our own lives. Sadly, if we're honest, many times when push comes to shove we fail the test. When we do, we create separation between us and God.

In our humanity we are frail. In our humanity we are often given to the path of least resistance, whatever is easiest or makes us “happy” in the moment. In our humanity we often care more about looking the part than being the part.

We are reminded on this Ash Wednesday that though there was separation there is no more. Resurrection is coming. Death has been defeated. Reconciliation is ours because of the victory won on the cross and displayed in the resurrection.

— Discuss...

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The Mystery of Following

Tue, 13 Feb 2024 11:46:45 -0400

Psalm 110:1-4; Job 19:23-27; 1 Timothy 3:14-16

I hope to visit you soon, but just in case I’m delayed, I’m writing this >letter so you’ll know how things ought to go in God’s household, this >God-alive church, bastion of truth. This Christian life is a great >mystery, far exceeding our understanding, but some things are clear >enough: *He appeared in a human body, *was proved right by the invisible Spirit, *was seen by angels. *He was proclaimed among all kinds of peoples, *believed in all over the world, taken up into heavenly glory.

I am always and consistently struck by the both-and of Jesus. Both a human and taken up to glory.

As I consider again this great reality of the dual nature of Christ, fully man and fully God, I am left in awe.

What leaves in even greater awe is what the author of 1 Timothy says right before the creedal statement, “some things are clear enough.”

The nature of Christ is clear enough. I think it's because it is grounded in the humanity of Jesus. We don't consider the humanity of Jesus well enough. The reality of him being alive and living in this world is something that we just don't let our minds and hearts consider. We are so deeply caught up in the cosmic Christ, this divine being that does all the miracles and conquered death.

But, the humanity of Jesus is what grounds him in reality. He gets hungry, tired, annoyed, angry, has conflict with family, is accused of being a drunk and a glutton. He has friends who he teases. He gets betrayed.

This Jesus of history and time is the Jesus that I can look at and say to myself, “Yep, I know what he's going through.”

Isn't it interesting that the mystery is the life of following Jesus. The mystery is not Jesus himself.

This makes so much sense if we take the Christian life seriously. If we actually try to live the things of the Sermon on the Mount, we are left wondering if this even possible.

This way of Jesus is a great mystery. There is grace upon grace. The rules are left under the auspices of love. This often leaves us wondering, “what do I do now?” The way of Jesus responds, “what is the way of love? of grace? of mercy?”

So, we are left to ponder afresh the Jesus of time and history and to wade into the mystery of how to follow him.

— Discuss...

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New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 22:52:23 -0400

@ozzy what do you mean? 😂 I’m missing something. 😂 @dan@social.danielmrose.com

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 22:29:58 -0400

@ozzy from micro blog. I can cross post from @dan@social.danielmrose.com to sharkey which is nifty

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 20:01:48 -0400

The sunsets here in Panama City Beach are just something else!

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 17:42:39 -0400

I’m reading: The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey, and it is so good. I read it ages ago, but the timeliness of it remarkable.

I think I will start sharing some quotes and brief thoughts from it and other books.

📚 micro.blog/books/978…

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 16:40:47 -0400

@ozzy I am guessing it’s on Sharkey’s end because follows work everywhere else.

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 16:09:41 -0400

@ozzy this was cross posted from micro! So, even though micro can’t be followed from here I will finally be active. 😂

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 15:49:06 -0400

I feel like the combination of micro.blog and write.as is going to be a match made in fediverse-heaven.

New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 15:43:14 -0400

We had quite the feast for Super Bowl Sunday yesterday. The best part? Leftover chicken nuggies from Chik-Fil-A for lunch today!

Dead End Drift

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 10:44:45 -0400

Psalm 110:1-4; Exodus 19:7-25; Hebrews 2:1-4

It’s crucial that we keep a firm grip on what we’ve heard so that we don’t drift off.

In high school there as a class that I took called, Math Analysis. It was pre-Calculus. The teacher taught us through projects. We did a project with satellites and orbits that was super hard and really interesting.

I couldn't tell you any of the math. I don't even really remember much beyond what I've told already.

What I do remember is that if our calculations were off by even a fraction of a percent then our satellite would crash. You see, when you drift off course, even slightly, over thousands of miles the results are a significant deviation.

We experience this on a lesser scale all the time, don't we? I mean, how many banners have you made in your life where your kerning was off just a bit and you ran out of room? Oh, just about every single one? Me too!

The author of Hebrews reminds us that the same thing can happen with the gospel. We can begin to drift off and lose our way. We can end up down a dead end that leaves us confused and lost.

I'm reading The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey right now. He wrote this, “Goodness cannot be imposed externally, from the top down; it must grow internally, from the bottom up.”

As I look around our world today it seems that we Christians have perhaps lost the grip on the message of the Gospel. We clamor for a top down, externally imposed goodness. This loss has left us graceless, merciless, compassionless, and simply unkind.

I am reminded this morning that I must hold tight to the gospel message lest I drift. The drift though small can leave me lost in a dead end.

— Discuss...

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Dead End Drift

Mon, 12 Feb 2024 10:44:45 -0400

Psalm 110:1-4; Exodus 19:7-25; Hebrews 2:1-4

It’s crucial that we keep a firm grip on what we’ve heard so that we don’t drift off.

I couldn't tell you any of the math. I don't even really remember much beyond what I've told already.

The author of Hebrews reminds us that the same thing can happen with the gospel. We can begin to drift off and lose our way. We can end up down a dead end that leaves us confused and lost.

I'm reading The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey right now. He wrote this, “Goodness cannot be imposed externally, from the top down; it must grow internally, from the bottom up.”

I am reminded this morning that I must hold tight to the gospel message lest I drift. The drift though small can leave me lost in a dead end.

Discuss...

—

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Disentangling Faith from Tribalism

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 12:40:01 -0400

2016 was a watershed moment for the Evangelical movement in the United States of America. It was a moment that had been building for decades. It did not come out of nowhere. Kristin Kobes Du Mez outlines the rise of this moment in her excellent work Jesus and John Wayne, I would recommend reading it if you would like the historical background. The Evangelical movement had to make a decision about a singular question and that question was whether it would embrace a tribalistic identity or if it would choose an identity that transcends tribalism. It unequivocally chose the former.

I want to let you in on a little secret, the clamor for tribalism is nothing new.

Humanity loves to divide and separate along tribal lines. There is safety in knowing who the “them” is. If we are going to be safe we need to know who our enemies are. Who are the people that are “out to get us?” Who are the dangerous people that are trying to destroy the very things that we hold dear?

One of the most popular television shows over the last number of years is Yellowstone. It’s a drama set in Montana around the largest private ranch in the state and the never ending quest of people to steal it away from the Dutton family. The whole show is centered on the need to identify who the newest enemy is and how protect “mine” from the enemy. I think what makes this show very attractive to so many is that it taps into the innate need to know who our tribe is.

Us vs Them. In vs Out. Me vs You.

According to the Cambridge Dictionary the popular usage of the term “tribalism” could be understood this way, “a very strong feeling of loyalty to a political or social group, so that you support them whatever they do.”

In our world today we are seeing more and more people walk away from faith because of many in the church who care more about protecting the institution or the “tribe” than about truth. In the 70s and 80s we saw people leave the Catholic Church in droves because of the priest sexual abuse scandals. The crime perpetrated by the priests was evil all on its own, but what drove people away was the cover up. In the 2000s we are seeing the same kind of thing happening in the Protestant church, particularly in Evangelicalism. The institutions have been exposed to be covering for the awful things that are done by many in positions of leadership.

When a faith tradition decides that protecting those in power and the institutions they represent is more important than the people they are called to care for should we be surprised that there is a walking away?

I’d say there should be an expectation of it.

Why is this happening? Why is there such a protection of the institution and its leaders?

It is because we have decided that we are in a war with “those people.” When you’re in a war you need rally around “our people.”

When we Christian-wash the failures of these movements and try to pretend that they aren’t happening or we try to minimize them, we do great harm to the cause of the gospel. When we acknowledge them and bring them into the light then there is some hope in disentangling ourselves from the tribalism that is inherent in the hiding.

The deepest problem with tribalism though is that it is antithetical to the way of Christ.

Jesus in one of my favorite stories from the Gospels is talking with a Samaritan woman and he has just proven himself to her as something of a prophet and she says,

>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.”

Do you see how Jesus challenges the entire underpinning of tribalism? He dismantles the “us vs them” by saying, “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.” All that matters is the worshiping in spirit and truth.

The Apostle Paul makes it more explicit in his letter to the Galatians, “In Christ’s family there can be no division into Jew and non-Jew, slave and free, male and female. Among us you are all equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ.”

We have to disentangle ourselves from the various tribes that we find ourselves in. I imagine that if Paul were writing this today he might have put it in political terms, “In Christ’s famil there can be division into Republican and Democrat, socialist and capitalist, male and female. Among us you are equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ.”

The beauty of the way of Jesus is that it transcends the various tribalistic aspects of any particular culture.

If you’ve grown up in the church and you’re looking around at the tribalism that you see, know that it isn’t the way of Jesus. It is right and good to disentangle yourself from the political tribes and even religious tribes that claim to be the “Jesus way.”

Remember, "…the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship."

The way of Jesus transcends the tribes.

Evangelicalism is not the Jesus Way. Progressivism is not the Jesus Way. Liberalism is not the Jesus Way. Conservatism is the not the Jesus Way. Fundamentalism is not the Jesus Way.

From each of these (and more) there are aspects of truth and we include them in our journey but then we transcend them to worship God in spirit and truth.

The process of disentangling ourselves from our tribes is hard and it is painful. It will leave us lonely for a season. It my break our hearts. We will likely lose relationships. But, at the end of the day moving from “us vs them” to a “Cosmic We” is so worth it.

When we disentangle from the tribe we can find the path toward loving neighbor, loving enemy, and loving God with all of who we are.

Disentangling Faith from Tribalism

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 12:40:01 -0400

I want to let you in on a little secret, the clamor for tribalism is nothing new.

One of the most popular television shows over the last number of years is Yellowstone. It's a drama set in Montana around the largest private ranch in the state and the never ending quest of people to steal it away from the Dutton family. The whole show is centered on the need to identify who the newest enemy is and how protect “mine” from the enemy. I think what makes this show very attractive to so many is that it taps into the innate need to know who our tribe is.

Us vs Them. In vs Out. Me vs You.

I'd say there should be an expectation of it.

Why is this happening? Why is there such a protection of the institution and its leaders?

It is because we have decided that we are in a war with “those people.” When you're in a war you need rally around “our people.”

When we Christian-wash the failures of these movements and try to pretend that they aren't happening or we try to minimize them, we do great harm to the cause of the gospel. When we acknowledge them and bring them into the light then there is some hope in disentangling ourselves from the tribalism that is inherent in the hiding.

The deepest problem with tribalism though is that it is antithetical to the way of Christ.

Jesus in one of my favorite stories from the Gospels is talking with a Samaritan woman and he has just proven himself to her as something of a prophet and she says,

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.”

We have to disentangle ourselves from the various tribes that we find ourselves in. I imagine that if Paul were writing this today he might have put it in political terms, “In Christ's famil there can be division into Republican and Democrat, socialist and capitalist, male and female. Among us you are equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ.”

The beauty of the way of Jesus is that it transcends the various tribalistic aspects of any particular culture.

If you've grown up in the church and you're looking around at the tribalism that you see, know that it isn't the way of Jesus. It is right and good to disentangle yourself from the political tribes and even religious tribes that claim to be the “Jesus way.”

Remember, ”...the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship.”

The way of Jesus transcends the tribes.

Evangelicalism is not the Jesus Way. Progressivism is not the Jesus Way. Liberalism is not the Jesus Way. Conservatism is the not the Jesus Way. Fundamentalism is not the Jesus Way.

From each of these (and more) there are aspects of truth and we include them in our journey but then we transcend them to worship God in spirit and truth.

When we disentangle from the tribe we can find the path toward loving neighbor, loving enemy, and loving God with all of who we are.

Discuss...

—

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Two Ditches

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 09:24:23 -0400

Psalm 50:1-6; 1 Kings 14:1-18; 1 Timothy 1:12-20

I’m so grateful to Christ Jesus for making me adequate to do this work. He went out on a limb, you know, in trusting me with this ministry. The only credentials I brought to it were violence and witch hunts and arrogance. But I was treated mercifully because I didn’t know what I was doing—didn’t know Who I was doing it against! Grace mixed with faith and love poured over me and into me. And all because of Jesus.

For some of us pastors this is something we need to be reminded of regularly. I know I do.

There are two ditches that I find on either side of me as I consider my calling. On the one side is whining. Often, when I meet with colleagues there is a corporate time of whining about our calling and congregations. It's like Mr. Costanza's Festivus comes to church. There is a temptation to fall into a bit of despondency because our callings are related to people. People are never finished and people are always messy. When you never have closure you can get frustrated. This is part of the reason that Eugene Peterson would read The Brothers Karamazov every year. He needed a reminder that people's lives are fascinating.

The other ditch is one of arrogant power. We pastors can develop a bit of a god-complex. There is this sense that we speak for God to God's people and therefore the people ought to obey us. This, unchecked, will of course lead us to a place of spiritual abuse. We often hold our authority over people. When this happens it is ugly and causes serious harm.

Paul had the answer to staying between these two ditches. That is, in a word, gratitude.

Pastors, in my opinion, have the greatest job in the world. We get the opportunity to be part of the life of people. There is a presence we get to have as they learn to live the life of faith. We walk alongside them during the overwhelming joys of weddings and births. We also get to hold people's hands and put our arms around their shoulders during the painful times of their lives. We are always there in the background of their lives.

A simple presence during the good, the bad, and the mundane.

This is a beautiful thing that we are called to.

This calling is all grace.

None of us deserve it.

Each of us called to serve as ministers of the gospel do so by the gracious working of God through Christ.

What an honor! What a responsibility! What an absolute joy!

All by grace.

Oh, that I would consistently see my calling through the lens of gratitude. I need to continue learn this valuable lesson that Paul teaches Timothy here.

— Discuss...

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New note by Daniel Rose

Thu, 08 Feb 2024 18:30:20 -0400

@Joe woof. That isn’t cool.

Do You Stink?

Thu, 08 Feb 2024 09:54:19 -0400

Psalm 50:1-6; 1 Kings 11:26-40; 2 Corinthians 2:12-17

Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. >Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is >recognized by those on the way of salvation—an aroma redolent with >life.

I often wonder if this is true of me.

There are few things in this life that I desperately want. When I die, oh how I would love it to be said of me that because of Christ I gave off “an aroma redolent with life.”

So often I find myself staring into the mirror seeing my shortcomings and failings to love well. The lack of love is so easily apparent. Thankfully, there is a grace that knows no bounds that has been offered to me through this Christ whom I seek to follow.

This little passage is such a good reminder that words matter. How we live matters.

It's also a reminder that when we seek to live this way there will be people who won't respond well. They will see the pursuit of love and will find is distasteful, a stench.

But those on the way to destruction treat us more like the stench from a rotting corpse.

How can I be sure that I'm speaking life? How can I know that the words and way I live are honoring and pleasing to Christ?

This is a terrific responsibility. Is anyone competent to take it on? No—but at least we don’t take God’s Word, water it down, and then take it to the streets to sell it cheap. We stand in Christ’s presence when we speak; God looks us in the face. We get what we say straight from God and say it as honestly as we can.

It's that last little bit that jumps at me, “say it as honestly as we can.”

There's no “but” tagged onto the words of Jesus. There's no attempt to package him or mitigate him for our comfort. No, when we are speaking the truth in love it is not going to be a cheap, watered down, Christ. It is going to be the message of the cross and resurrection that is laden with grace, mercy, compassion, empathy, and love.

I suppose this is the means by which I can evaluate myself. Is the way I live and the words I speak bookended with grace and love?

— Discuss...

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A Vending Machine or God?

Wed, 07 Feb 2024 10:57:23 -0400

Psalm 102:12-28; Job 6:1-13; Mark 3:7-12

Each morning I share a little morning blessing in my social streams. Nothing big, just a little something that runs through my mind. This morning I shared, “may you choose to be content despite your circumstances.” With this being a Wednesday we can often find ourselves buried by details and tasks. It can be really hard to be content.

But, there's also a bigger picture beyond the small every day stuff. Some of us find ourselves in these difficult situations where it feels like the whole world is closing in on us. Some of it is due to our own decision making and some of it is due to things beyond our control.

Often times when we find ourselves in these situations we turn to God out of desperation.

Like Job we wonder why hasn't God done the things we want him to do on our behalf.

The arrows of God Almighty are in me, poison arrows—and I’m poisoned all through! God has dumped the whole works on me. Donkeys bray and cows moo when they run out of pasture— so don’t expect me to keep quiet in this. Do you see what God has dished out for me? It’s enough to turn anyone’s stomach! Everything in me is repulsed by it— it makes me sick.

Yet, more often than not I wonder if we are really more like the crowds chasing Jesus around. The people who have experienced God's provision and then demand more.

He had healed many people, and now everyone who had something >wrong was pushing and shoving to get near and touch him.

God is not a vending machine that we can drop a quarter into and get something in return. It's just not how things work. No, God relates to us. God engages with us. God is calling and drawing us in deeper beyond our wants and desires.

There are times when we will walk through difficult things. It's parf of living in this imperfect world amongst imperfect people. There is sickness, mental and physical, there are natural disasters, there are things well out of our control.

Sometimes we have to face the consequences of our decisions.

Sometimes we experience the consequences of other people's decisions.

Sometimes we find immediate healing and relief.

Sometimes we have to learn contentment in the midst of our circumstances.

If you're anything like me when I'm facing the hard stuff I want to know why God doesn't answer my fervent prayer to fix it and fix it now. Then, sometime later I see how the plan worked itself out and see God's hand in it.

As C.S. Lews writes about Aslan in the The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,

“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion.” “ Ooh” said Susan. “I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall >feel rather nervous about meeting a lion”... “Safe?” said Mr Beaver ...“Who said anything about safe? 'Course he >isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

I love this picture of Aslan. He isn't safe but he is good. In our home we talk often of God being sovereign and good. We can trust God because God is in control and is good. This helps us find contentment in the midst of circumstances.

No, God is not a vending machine. God works in God's ways on God's own timing. I'm learning to be content with that.

— Discuss...

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New note by Daniel Rose

Wed, 07 Feb 2024 10:29:30 -0400

@cstross@wandering.shop what in yhe Jurassic Park is going on here? 😂😂😂

New note by Daniel Rose

Tue, 06 Feb 2024 19:46:24 -0400

That Time They Fought

Psalm 102:12-28; 2 Kings 8:1-6; Acts 15:36-41

What do you do when conflict arises? This little passage in Acts 15 is always fascinating to me because it gives us a snapshot of the less than perfect leaders in the early church. It turns out that they were as human and normal as we are. They had disagreements and tempers and personalities. (Side note, I’m thankful that the Bible preserves the imperfections because it helps us know and understand these people were just like us.)

Paul and Barnabas disagreed on taking young Mark along on the journey. So, they parted ways. Their disagreement on this man lead them to breaking off their partnership. This doesn’t sound like the kind of thing that the writer of two thirds of the New Testament should do, does it? This was a guy who had visions of the risen Christ. He was a guy who would go on to write, possibly, the greatest passage on love in human history. Yet, here he is unable to continue in relationship with someone who was his mentor and friend over a disagreement.

There’s no moral judgment in the passage about the argument. There’s just a statement of the facts of the matter.

I think one of the things that comes out of this brief story is that it’s OK to agree to disagree. Some times we come to a place where we simply have to say, “We aren’t going to see eye to eye and for the greater good we ought to part ways.”

It also brings to mind a conversation that I’ve a number of times about the nature of forgiveness. I think that when we talk about forgiveness we need to distinguish between forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration. Forgiveness is a one way street. It’s what the offended person does so as to not develop bitterness in their own soul. Reconciliation is a two way street when the two people can be present with one another. This is a two way street where the offender acknowledges their hurtful action and the offended is willing to remain in relationship. Restoration is when the hurt has been moved past and the relationship has been returned to a previous or deeper state.

I imagine that Paul and Barnabas forgave one another. Perhaps in their separating there was even reconciliation in that they were not estranged from one another. We see later in the book of Acts a restoration when Mark joins Paul on the journey.

When we enter into conflict the minimum outcome we hope for is forgiveness from our own point of view. When it comes to reconciliation and restoration, that is something that requires two people to move towards one another. We don’t really control the reconciliation and restoration aspect. And sometimes, those are not healthy outcomes (particularly in cases of abuse, restoration is not something that we need to pursue).

This morning I am processing whom I may need to forgive or whom I need to ask forgiveness of.

New note by Daniel Rose

Tue, 06 Feb 2024 17:45:11 -0400

Gotta say, I’m really enjoying Lincoln Lawyer.

New note by Daniel Rose

Tue, 06 Feb 2024 10:41:37 -0400

Hey FUNsters! Check out the new “bubble” feed in your toolbar. It highlights a few particular public timelines.

That Time They Fought

Tue, 06 Feb 2024 10:38:09 -0400

Psalm 102:12-28; 2 Kings 8:1-6; Acts 15:36-41

What do you do when conflict arises? This little passage in Acts 15 is always fascinating to me because it gives us a snapshot of the less than perfect leaders in the early church. It turns out that they were as human and normal as we are. They had disagreements and tempers and personalities. (Side note, I'm thankful that the Bible preserves the imperfections because it helps us know and understand these people were just like us.)

Paul and Barnabas disagreed on taking young Mark along on the journey. So, they parted ways. Their disagreement on this man lead them to breaking off their partnership. This doesn't sound like the kind of thing that the writer of two thirds of the New Testament should do, does it? This was a guy who had visions of the risen Christ. He was a guy who would go on to write, possibly, the greatest passage on love in human history. Yet, here he is unable to continue in relationship with someone who was his mentor and friend over a disagreement.

There's no moral judgment in the passage about the argument. There's just a statement of the facts of the matter.

I think one of the things that comes out of this brief story is that it's OK to agree to disagree. Some times we come to a place where we simply have to say, “We aren't going to see eye to eye and for the greater good we ought to part ways.”

It also brings to mind a conversation that I've a number of times about the nature of forgiveness. I think that when we talk about forgiveness we need to distinguish between forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration. Forgiveness is a one way street. It's what the offended person does so as to not develop bitterness in their own soul. Reconciliation is a two way street when the two people can be present with one another. This is a two way street where the offender acknowledges their hurtful action and the offended is willing to remain in relationship. Restoration is when the hurt has been moved past and the relationship has been returned to a previous or deeper state.

When we enter into conflict the minimum outcome we hope for is forgiveness from our own point of view. When it comes to reconciliation and restoration, that is something that requires two people to move towards one another. We don't really control the reconciliation and restoration aspect. And sometimes, those are not healthy outcomes (particularly in cases of abuse, restoration is not something that we need to pursue).

This morning I am processing whom I may need to forgive or whom I need to ask forgiveness of.

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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New note by Daniel Rose

Mon, 05 Feb 2024 12:06:27 -0400

It’s Monday, the beginning of a new week. What are you looking forward to this week you Sharkigans?

You Are Not Dismissed

Mon, 05 Feb 2024 12:01:49 -0400

Psalm 102:12-28; 2 Kings 4:8-17, 32-37; Acts 14:1-7

One of the things that I like about the Psalms is that they make me feel normal.

I don't know about you but when it comes to my experience with the divine it's up and down and left and right. It's a mixed bag to put it simply. There are days when I'm really angry with God. Then there are days where it feels like God is right in front of me and I feel God like never before. There are also days where I'm totally indifferent to God.

Maybe I'm an odd duck (well, I know I'm an odd duck, who in their right mind chooses to be a pastor...)?

Perhaps this isn't your experience at all. It sure is mine.

For a long time I tried to pretend that it wasn't like that. For my adult life I have been a professional Christian. I was a missionary to the college campus and now a pastor. I am supposed to have a dynamic relationship with God. One that is constantly on the upswing and never dips. That simply isn't true.

Over the years, I have learned that being honest about relationship with God has become the most important thing in having a relationship with God. It is amazing as I share struggles with others that they too have them and we are able to find encouragement from one another. When I pretend or lie about my relationship with God I inevitably isolate myself. During these seasons of isolation it can feel like I'm in a hole that I can't dig out of.

Thankfully, I have found myself in a community of people who love me without condition. I can share all of myself with them and as a result, I find that my relationship with God is more honest and real.

I resonated with verse 17 in Psalm 102,

“When he attends to the prayer of the wretched. He won’t dismiss their prayer.”

When I feel wretched, God won't dismiss me. When you feel wretched, God won't dismiss you either.

How amazing is that?

When we are at our most unloveable God still embraces us. Why? Because God is compassionate and loving and merciful and gracious.

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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ordinary jesus- include transcend // Matthew 5:17-20

Sun, 04 Feb 2024 14:11:03 -0400

We take a look at what Jesus has to say about the Law and Prophets…

New note by Daniel Rose

Sat, 03 Feb 2024 20:33:01 -0400

Happy Saturday hooligans! Hope y’all had a good one!

New note by Daniel Rose

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 15:14:07 -0400

…why do I always forget how pretty Sharkey’s interface is?

New note by Daniel Rose

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 13:44:34 -0400

So PWA notifications work in Sharkey. How about that?

February 2, 2024

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 12:43:16 -0400

Psalm 147:1-11, 20c; Job 36:1-23; 1 Corinthians 9:1-16

Our decision all along has been to put up with anything rather than >to get in the way or detract from the Message of Christ. 1 Corinthians >9:12b, The Message

I love and hate this line from Paul.

In this chapter he's writing about his rights as an apostle. He is reminding the Corinthians that it's OK for him to be supported by the people of and to make a living as a minister of the gospel.

But, he has chosen not to exert those rights.

Why?

Because they can get in the way of the message of Christ.

Imagine, not using a right that is yours because it might detract from the message of Christ.

Am I willing to do such a thing? What are the rights that I demand that hinder the message of Christ?

So much to wrestle with.

— Discuss...

—

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Disentangling Faith from Corporatism

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 12:07:52 -0400

Introduction

For a long time I was enthralled with “leadership.” I read everything I could on leadership. It was one of those intellectual itches that needed to be scratched. During this season of my life I was leading a team of people with a large parachurch organization and I found much of it to be helpful.

In the midst of that time I was also a member of a church where the pastor, who would become my mentor, was decidedly not pursuing the kinds of leadership stuff that I was. There was a cognitive dissonance that created deep frustration. Didn’t he know that if would leverage the leadership strategies that I was learning about that he could grow the church faster and more efficiently?

When I became a pastor in a local church I participated in the research for another pastor who was doing his doctoral work in leadership. As we worked through the calls and discussions I grew more and more frustrated as it became clearer to me that the kind of leadership that we were seeing more in the church was rooted in the gospel.

What was going on?

Pastor as CEO

The consumerism of the American church necessitated that the pastor become a CEO concerned only with building their own platform so as to grow the numbers of people in the church.

There was a line in a leadership book that still haunts me. I’m paraphrasing but it went something like this: It said that the pastor was God’s man leading the congregation toward the vision that God had instilled. Once the pastor knew God’s vision then it was the pastor’s responsibility to shepherd the sheep. Any sheep that disagreed with the pastor’s vision was really a wolf. And you know what shepherds do to wolves? They shoot them.

We have bought into the idea that the church is a business. And yes, I’m using the word “bought” intentionally. We have turned what is to be the gathering of the family of God into big business. The main success criteria for most churches is bucks, butts, and buildings. The three “Bs”.

In a large number of churches around the country the conversations amongst leadership teams boil down to those three success criteria. How do we get more people to get more money to make a better building to get more people… and so the cycle goes.

Do we as pastors religiously coat everything? Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a single pastor that would say that they are focused on the 3Bs. We would all say that what matters to us is people hearing and responding to the gospel of Jesus. Every single one of us would say that we want people to grow in their faith.

Sadly, in practice for many of us we have lost the plot.

When the leadership of the church goes corporate and the focus becomes “growing the church (by the 3Bs)” then you end up with the same kinds of things that happen in the corporate world. Pastors become insulated from the congregation. They get placed on a pedestal. Issues within the church get covered up, handled, and swept away because you can’t have anything hurt the “momentum.”

Power becomes the currency of the leaders. Spiritual abuse begins to run rampant. Members of the church are nothing more than customers. Political games get played. People get used for the sake of the “vision.”

We have bought so deeply into the “leadership” cult of the secular business world that in many of our fastest growing churches you could strip away the Jesus aspects most wouldn’t even notice.

Conclusion

Is it any surprise that when people see behind the curtain of the leadership of many churches that they walk away from the faith? I don’t think so. These men and women that they thought were pursuing God are merely pursuing their own power and glory. The people that they thought were humble servants are actually power hungry control freaks. No, we shouldn’t be surprised.

We must disentangle the faith from this corporatism.

What if we pastors instead of being CEOs simply sought to love well, being servants of those entrusted to us, and were simply present? What if we were actually open and authentic with those in our care? What if instead of seeking deep relationships outside the congregation we pursued them inside? What if we were simply content with caring for those in our immediate neighborhood not worrying about “growing the church (3Bs)”? What if we simply sought to model Jesus self-sacrificial love?

What if?

Disentangling Faith from Corporatism

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 12:07:52 -0400

Introduction

In the midst of that time I was also a member of a church where the pastor, who would become my mentor, was decidedly not pursuing the kinds of leadership stuff that I was. There was a cognitive dissonance that created deep frustration. Didn't he know that if would leverage the leadership strategies that I was learning about that he could grow the church faster and more efficiently?

What was going on?

Pastor as CEO

The consumerism of the American church necessitated that the pastor become a CEO concerned only with building their own platform so as to grow the numbers of people in the church.

There was a line in a leadership book that still haunts me. I'm paraphrasing but it went something like this: It said that the pastor was God's man leading the congregation toward the vision that God had instilled. Once the pastor knew God's vision then it was the pastor's responsibility to shepherd the sheep. Any sheep that disagreed with the pastor's vision was really a wolf. And you know what shepherds do to wolves? They shoot them.

We have bought into the idea that the church is a business. And yes, I'm using the word “bought” intentionally. We have turned what is to be the gathering of the family of God into big business. The main success criteria for most churches is bucks, butts, and buildings. The three “Bs”.

Do we as pastors religiously coat everything? Absolutely. I don't think there's a single pastor that would say that they are focused on the 3Bs. We would all say that what matters to us is people hearing and responding to the gospel of Jesus. Every single one of us would say that we want people to grow in their faith.

Sadly, in practice for many of us we have lost the plot.

We have bought so deeply into the “leadership” cult of the secular business world that in many of our fastest growing churches you could strip away the Jesus aspects most wouldn't even notice.

Conclusion

Is it any surprise that when people see behind the curtain of the leadership of many churches that they walk away from the faith? I don't think so. These men and women that they thought were pursuing God are merely pursuing their own power and glory. The people that they thought were humble servants are actually power hungry control freaks. No, we shouldn't be surprised.

We must disentangle the faith from this corporatism.

What if?

Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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Disentangling Faith from Consumerism

Thu, 01 Feb 2024 16:51:17 -0400

Introduction

It was the summer of 1998 and I was raising support at the beginning of my time on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ. I was in the car on my way to a church gathering with a potential donor. He was going to be connecting me with a number of people from his church at this gathering. During our hour drive across Metro Detroit he shared with me his take on the future of the church in America. It went something like this…

The future of the church is the mega-church. The small neighborhood churches are just not going to be able to compete. Mega churches have the means by which to give the people what they want. We have plans at our church to offer so many different things that people will be able to hang out at the church all the time. We are planning a recreation complex, a coffee shop, even a restaurant! Everything we do is to meet the wants of folks from our community. Small churches just don’t have the resources. They are going to lose and eventually, every town will have one or two mega churches. Our resources will allow us to have dynamic worship experiences and we will be able to bring in the most dynamic speakers. Our band is planning on publishing and selling CD soon too. The production value that we put into our worship services is second to none. Truly, if someone can’t find what they are looking for here it’s because they aren’t really trying.

The conversation lasted an hour or so, but this was the basic gist. (Let me be very clear, the issues of consumerism and the critiques following are as prevalent in small churches as they are in mega-churches.)

When I was on staff with Cru at Illinois State I remember a student from Chicago who attended a famous mega-church in the suburbs came to one of our weekly meetings. I was excited to talk with him because he was a committed Christian and I thought that it would be great to have him involved so he could grow in his faith. He informed that he would not be coming back. Why? The production value of the weekly meeting isn’t good enough. I just didn’t compare to church back home. None of the campus ministries did and none of the churches in this podunk town had good ones either.

Conversations with so many people over the years about a church didn’t “feed me” or didn’t offer a particular program that I wanted or how the coffee was sub par. These things and so many lead to “church shopping.”

The American Christian church has become driven by consumerism.

How do we become bigger and bigger? How do we get more people? What do we need to do grow faster and faster? What will it take to attract more people?

Conversely those being shaped by this kind of church ask a different set of questions. What does this church offer me? Does this church meet my needs and wants? Does this church agree with me? Does this church feed me?

Consumerism

Consumerism is defined as, “the protection or promotion of the interests of consumers.”

When we think about the post World War 2 American experience it seems to me that consumerism is part and parcel of that experience.

I was watching 1923, the prequel to the show Yellowstone, the other night. The Dutton family had gone into the town of Bozeman, Montana. While they were walking around downtown they happened upon a salesman for electronic appliances. He was selling washing machines and a variety of other electronic conveniences. There was a great line in that scene that really struck me, “Sir, if we buy this stuff from you we begin working for you and not ourselvs.”

What a succinct illustration of the problem of consumerism.

Our whole society has been touched by it.

I am not sure that there are very many places that we go where we aren’t consumers.

Consuming, that is something we are good at. Consider the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday. It is a day when America consumes. We buy all the things, whether we need them or not.

When I consume food do you know what happens? My plate is empty. It’s gone. Eventually, I will again get hungry. I won’t be able to eat that same food. It’s gone. I need new food. So I buy more. Food is of course a necessity. But it simply illustrates the point.

When Consumerism Comes to Church

The Church ought to be a place where we do not consume. When we read our Scriptures we see that worship is offered, it is given, it is not about “me.” At the very least once a week we should have this counter-cultural moment where our attnetion is focused on something other than the self.

By and large, that’s not the case.

Now, we church shop like we are buying a house or some shoes.

Church is all about “me.”

When consumerism comes to church we lose the gospel.

This is part of the reason so many people are becoming fed up with American Christianity. They are rightly seeing it as an empty sham that is nothing more than candy. A Christianity that is consumer driven offers us nothing in the face of the pain and heartache that is life. A Consumeristic Christianity is one rife with hypocrisy lead by power hungry pastors looking to build their own platforms and kingdoms.

As the ancient Scriptures tell us, eventually all will be brought to light.

Consumer driven Christianity would have felt at home with the crowds who at the bread and fish and then chased Jesus around the lake. He chastised them saying that what they wanted was their bellies filled, they didn’t want him.

Conclusion

I think in large part this shift began with Charles Finney in the Second Great Awakening. He tweaked the gospel message to be about personal salvation. Billy Graham in the 1950s and beyond made it even more pronounced. The various parachurch ministries also jumped on the personal salvation band wagon.

All of a sudden the gospel was a sales pitch to get individuals saved.

The gospel is not a decision point. It is a proclamation of the work that God has done through Christ in the crucifixion and resurrection. It is a call to follow the narrow way of self-sacrificial love that we demonstrated by Jesus and taught by the earliest followers of the Way in the Scriptures. The gospel is a summons to die to self so as to live free to express faith in love.

The gospel is not something to consume.

No, it is upside down from our American culture.

We have to disentangle our faith from consumerism. Following Jesus for what he can give me will always end up in failure and frustration. Following Jesus because living the way he did with compassion, mercy, and self-sacrificial love will open me up to something beyond myself. When we live this way we discover that there is no us vs them, there is simply “we-all”. If we can pursue this way of Christ contrary to the consumerism of our culture then we will become givers and in our giving we discover that we are cared for.

Disentangling Faith from Consumerism

Thu, 01 Feb 2024 16:51:17 -0400

Introduction

The future of the church is the mega-church. The small neighborhood churches are just not going to be able to compete. Mega churches have the means by which to give the people what they want. We have plans at our church to offer so many different things that people will be able to hang out at the church all the time. We are planning a recreation complex, a coffee shop, even a restaurant! Everything we do is to meet the wants of folks from our community. Small churches just don't have the resources. They are going to lose and eventually, every town will have one or two mega churches. Our resources will allow us to have dynamic worship experiences and we will be able to bring in the most dynamic speakers. Our band is planning on publishing and selling CD soon too. The production value that we put into our worship services is second to none. Truly, if someone can't find what they are looking for here it's because they aren't really trying.

When I was on staff with Cru at Illinois State I remember a student from Chicago who attended a famous mega-church in the suburbs came to one of our weekly meetings. I was excited to talk with him because he was a committed Christian and I thought that it would be great to have him involved so he could grow in his faith. He informed that he would not be coming back. Why? The production value of the weekly meeting isn't good enough. I just didn't compare to church back home. None of the campus ministries did and none of the churches in this podunk town had good ones either.

Conversations with so many people over the years about a church didn't “feed me” or didn't offer a particular program that I wanted or how the coffee was sub par. These things and so many lead to “church shopping.”

The American Christian church has become driven by consumerism.

How do we become bigger and bigger? How do we get more people? What do we need to do grow faster and faster? What will it take to attract more people?

Consumerism

Consumerism is defined as, “the protection or promotion of the interests of consumers.”

When we think about the post World War 2 American experience it seems to me that consumerism is part and parcel of that experience.

What a succinct illustration of the problem of consumerism.

Our whole society has been touched by it.

I am not sure that there are very many places that we go where we aren't consumers.

Consuming, that is something we are good at. Consider the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday. It is a day when America consumes. We buy all the things, whether we need them or not.

When I consume food do you know what happens? My plate is empty. It's gone. Eventually, I will again get hungry. I won't be able to eat that same food. It's gone. I need new food. So I buy more. Food is of course a necessity. But it simply illustrates the point.

When Consumerism Comes to Church

By and large, that's not the case.

Now, we church shop like we are buying a house or some shoes.

Church is all about “me.”

When consumerism comes to church we lose the gospel.

As the ancient Scriptures tell us, eventually all will be brought to light.

Conclusion

All of a sudden the gospel was a sales pitch to get individuals saved.

The gospel is not something to consume.

No, it is upside down from our American culture.

Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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February 1, 2024

Thu, 01 Feb 2024 10:38:11 -0400

Psalm 147:1-11, 20c; Proverbs 12:10-21; Galatians 5:2-15

I suspect you would never intend this, but this is what happens. When you >attempt to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from >Christ, you fall out of grace. Meanwhile we expectantly wait for a satisfying >relationship with the Spirit. For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion >nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far >more interior: faith expressed in love. – Galatians 5:4-6, The Message

How often do I seek to live by my own religious plans and projects?

All. The. Time.

I remember when I first began learning about the depths of grace in books like The Ragamuffin Gospel, What's So Amazing About Grace, and Putting Amazing Back Into Grace. It was like someone took the blinders off me. All of a sudden there was this overwhelming sense of freedom that I never knew existed in my faith life.

But, then something happened.

I became legalistic about freedom.

As Paul might have said, I stopped practicing conscientious religion for a disregard of religion.

My freedom had become license.

Both legalism and license are missing the mark.

Grace frees us to live a life of faith expressed in love.

What a remarkable idea to consider.

My life is too often not one of faith expressed in love. It is often faith expressed in rules, expectations, demands, or control. Too many times everything boils down to a simple recipe of “do this” and “don't do that.”

But Grace calls me deeper. It calls me to a place of love. Love means that I'm free to serve, to be present, to listen, to simply be.

Grace-Love it's not easy to put your arms around. You have to just do it, live it, practice it. And oh does it take practice!

The further into living a life of Grace-Love the more you find yourself in situations that you can't control. So, the temptation is ever present to grasp control back. I have to keep learning that the call, the deep call of Grace-Love is that of letting go.

It's neither license nor legalism. It something far deeper, indeed, a faith expressed in love.

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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January 31, 2024

Wed, 31 Jan 2024 12:15:23 -0400

Psalm 35:1-10; Jeremiah 29:1-14; Mark 5:1-20

One of my favorite movies is Garden State. There is a marvelous scene where the two main characters are sitting in a pool and they are talking about, “home” and “family.”

Andrew Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize the house >you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you >have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.

Sam: I still feel at home in my house.

Andrew Largeman: You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens >one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel >homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, >you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of >home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle >or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all >family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.

What resonates with me this morning is that line about how “home” is an idea that you create for yourself.

As I was reading these passages this morning this movie scene immediately popped into my head. In Jeremiah he's sending a letter to the people in exile and telling them create for themselves homes in Babylon. In Mark Jesus sends the healed demoniac back to his home country. Home is a theme that for whatever just jumped out of the text to me.

Home is not something that just happens. We cultivate it. We create it. Home can be anywhere! I'm watching my children create a sense of home at their respective universities. Sure, they love coming to my home for a visit, but there is a restlessness that is ever present because this house is no longer home for them.

I think there is something innate in us all to create a home. It's a reflection of the Divine. The first stories humanity told were about the Divine making a home for us. Now we reflect that every day.

In some sense we all find ourselves in exile. We await the eternal home. But until then, perhaps we would be wise to remember the letter of Jeremiah...

This is the Message from GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies, Israel’s God, to all the exiles >I’ve taken from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and make yourselves at home. “Put in gardens and eat what grows in that country. “Marry and have children. Encourage your children to marry and have children so >that you’ll thrive in that country and not waste away. “Make yourselves at home there and work for the country’s welfare. “Pray for Babylon’s well-being. If things go well for Babylon, things will go well for >you.”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

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January 30, 2024

Tue, 30 Jan 2024 14:32:01 -0400

Psalm 35:1-10; Numbers 22:22-28; 1 Corinthians 7:32-40

One of the things that I really like doing is spending time reading in The Message. The reason for this is that it often opens my eyes to familiar passages in different ways. It gets me to think about them differently. I really need this because I have spent so much time thinking about the Scriptures from a theological angle that to have my normal perceptions jarred is so helpful.

Today's reading, for instance, 1 Corinthians 7:32-40 is all about Paul's teaching on singleness and celibacy. This passage has always lead me into a million questions about marriage, singleness, etc...

Reading today in The Message, there was this translation of verse 32:

I want you to live as free of complications as possible.

It jolted me.

I stared at the line and it dawned on me that perhaps Paul's heart in this section was just that, he was calling people to consider how live lives that are free of complications so as to limit the things that demand our attention.

Could it be that that is the principle here? Is it possible that is the core of what Paul is talking about and using marriage as an illustration, while also sharing his opinion?

I think it might be.

So this then leads me to what I'm thinking about today, “What are the complications in my life that are taking away my attention from what matters most?”

— Discuss...

—

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January 29, 2024

Mon, 29 Jan 2024 12:07:01 -0400

Psalm 35:1-10 // Numbers 22:1-21 // Acts 21:17-26

But let me run loose and free, celebrating GOD’s great work, Every bone in my body laughing, singing, “GOD, there’s no one like you. You put the down-and-out on their feet and protect the unprotected from bullies!”

This morning as I was processing these passages it struck me that what I want is so often very shallow, very lame, and so much less than what God would have for me.

The stories told in Numbers and Acts each in their own ways point to the reality that there is more to what God is doing than what I often see. I get focused on immediate circumstances so easily. I lose the forest for the trees.

God, typically, has something so much more for me than what I think I want in the immediate moment.

I am reminded of the C.S. Lewis quote, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” ― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, and Other Addresses.

Oh that I would pursue the infinite joy that is offered me!

And yet, where is that infinite joy put on display? It is put on display when when God puts the “down-and-out on their feet and protect(s) the unprotected from bullies!”

This is where I will find the infinite joy! When I get involved with what God is doing in the world then I will move beyond my weak and desires to those things that are much stronger.

— Discuss...

—

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ordinary jesus - #blessed // Matthew 5:1-12

Sun, 21 Jan 2024 15:22:51 -0400

We kick off our new series, “ordinary jesus,” with a look at the Beatitudes

Disentangling Faith

Thu, 18 Jan 2024 13:41:06 -0400

Introduction

Every December when it comes time to put up the Christmas decorations I have one job that is harder than the rest. This job makes me feel frustrated and a bit annoyed. The job of disentangling the outdoor lights is no easy task. It requires an engineering degree, patience, and a keen spatial sense. None of which I have. Yet, I persevere and press on toward the goal of disentangling the lights.

When I do, the results are magic! That moment when they come on and the house glows with the warm soft light from the twinkle lights just looks like Christmas. It makes me smile. But, to get to the beauty I had to go through the pain of disentangling.

In the United States of America the Christian faith has become entangled with a myriad of things. When Christian bookstores were everywhere you could go in and see the entanglement with your own two eyes. From Testamints to Christian self-help books to t-shirts to leadership books to Bibles in every flavor imaginable. Yes, this radical faith that subverted the Roman Empire and changed the world has become entangled with an American culture that demands uniformity, convenience, and ease.

More insidious than the entanglement with consumerism is that it has become entangled into a quest for power.

The power to dominate its enemies. The power to control culture. The power to control the government. The power to control religious communities.

For many, the Christian faith in America has become so entangled with one political party that they are almost interchangeable terms.

In recent years many of us have begun to see the ramifications of such an entanglement and have begun the process of disentangling our faith from American-ism. As you pull on the string that seems to be dangling for each of us at different places you begin to see how deep the entanglement goes.

It’s like the Christmas lights. Just when you think you have it disentangled, there is a little bit more. One more knot. One more tangle. You have to keep going until the job is finished.

When we begin this process of disentangling our faith there is a temptation to say that there’s no right place to end up. That’s just not true. The right place to end up is that place that Jesus talked about with the Samaritan woman at the well. The goal is to worship God in spirit and truth. It’s not about figuring out which mountain is “right.” No, it’s about getting to know this God for whom God is, apart from all that entangles.

As we begin the journey of disentangling what will inevitably happen is that those for whom the entanglement has become their identity will get very angry. Whether their identity is in being “Evangelical,” “Progressive,” “Republican,” “Democrat,” “Pro-life,” “Pro-Choice,” “American,” or any other adjective you can think of, when you begin to disentangle from these secondary identities those for whom they matter more than knowing Christ will feel threatened and may become very upset. This can lead to broken relationships and significant heartache.

Disentangling our faith from secondary identities is not easy, it’s not a fad, and it’s not new. The story of the Christian faith is the story of disentangling from secondary identities to living in the way of Christ. The story repeats itself over and over and over again. As each new secondary identity raises up, the story starts anew.

This is going to be the first in a series of posts about disentangling our faith from secondary identities in the hopes of moving towards a clearer understanding of what it means to follow in the way of Christ.

My organizing principle can be summarized in Philippians 3:10-11 where Paul of Tarsus wrote, “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.”

I hope you will come along with me. Over the last twelve years or so, I have seen the good that comes through the painful process of disentangling my faith from “that inferior stuff.” It has opened me up to a deeper love of God and others than I ever thought possible. The pain, the discomfort, the frustration, has all been worth it.

I resonate deeply with what Paul who wrote right after our organizing principle:

“I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.

So let’s keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you’ll see it yet! Now that we’re on the right track, let’s stay on it.”

Disentangling Faith

Thu, 18 Jan 2024 13:41:06 -0400

Introduction

More insidious than the entanglement with consumerism is that it has become entangled into a quest for power.

The power to dominate its enemies. The power to control culture. The power to control the government. The power to control religious communities.

For many, the Christian faith in America has become so entangled with one political party that they are almost interchangeable terms.

It's like the Christmas lights. Just when you think you have it disentangled, there is a little bit more. One more knot. One more tangle. You have to keep going until the job is finished.

When we begin this process of disentangling our faith there is a temptation to say that there's no right place to end up. That's just not true. The right place to end up is that place that Jesus talked about with the Samaritan woman at the well. The goal is to worship God in spirit and truth. It's not about figuring out which mountain is “right.” No, it's about getting to know this God for whom God is, apart from all that entangles.

Disentangling our faith from secondary identities is not easy, it's not a fad, and it's not new. The story of the Christian faith is the story of disentangling from secondary identities to living in the way of Christ. The story repeats itself over and over and over again. As each new secondary identity raises up, the story starts anew.

I resonate deeply with what Paul who wrote right after our organizing principle:

Discuss...

—

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January 16, 2024

Tue, 16 Jan 2024 13:02:40 -0400

Psalm 86; 1 Samuel 15:10-31; Acts 5:1-11

Do you think all GOD wants are sacrifices— empty rituals just for show? He wants you to listen to him! Plain listening is the thing, not staging a lavish religious production.

“The ends justify the means.”

Right?

If the result is good then how we go about bringing that result doesn't matter, right? RIGHT!?

Not even close.

If we claim to be on the way of Christ then the means, the how, is more important than the ends.

That passage about Saul from 1 Samuel 15 is almost a parable for our time. So many followers of Jesus are willing to sell their souls for their political ends. If we are honest with ourselves many of us read that story about Saul and think, “What's the big deal? He won. That's mattered.” Yet, in the economy of God that isn't what matters. What matters is the way you do the things that you are doing. Living in the way is all that matters.

Why?

Why does the way matter more than the end?

Because God is sovereign and good. We are able to trust that this sovereign and good God will bring about the ends that God wants. Because of this we enter into the way realizing that the ends are not the goal but the journey.

What I'm wrestling with today, “Am I embracing the journey or am I simply pursuing an end?”

— Discuss...

—

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Matthew 2:13-23 // Weeping to Joy

Sat, 13 Jan 2024 10:14:35 -0400

We explore the prophecy of Jeremiah in Matthew 2:13-23.

January 8, 2023

Mon, 08 Jan 2024 09:09:22 -0400

Psalm 69:1-5, 30-36; Genesis 17:1-18; Romans 4:1-12

What does Scripture say? “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.”

Abraham fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, “Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?”

The juxtaposition of Genesis 17 against Romans 4 (which is a discussion of Genesis 15) is remarkable.

Paul holds up Abraham in his letter to the Romans as a paragon of faith. Yet, as we read in Genesis 17 this faith of Abraham's was one that was rife with doubt. Abraham was no fool. He understood what was happening in the promises being offered him from the Divine. A 90 year old couldn't possibly have a child. So Abraham says this, “If only Ishmael might live under your blessing!” (Genesis 17:18)

The father of the faith was one who doubted.

The one whose belief was credited to him as righteousness didn't quite believe.

I mean, it's amazing isn't it? It's not like Abraham offered a plan to go adopt a child. No, Abraham was hoping that his (by our standards) illegitimate son by his wife's servant (slave and likely could not have said no to the demand to be impregnated by Abraham) could receive the blessing offered by God. This is all an absolute mess. Yet, Paul lifts this man up as the father of the faith and God says his faith is credited to him as righteousness.

There is nothing clean or perfect or easy about faith.

Faith is hard. Faith is ugly. Faith is doubt. Faith is failing. Faith is painful. Faith is grace. Faith is mercy. Faith is love.

Faith is a bare knuckled brawl to hold on to hope in the face of an apparent reality that doesn't make sense.

The faith that we see in the Scripture is not something that comes from ourselves. It is a faith that is really and truly wrapped up in the faithfulness of the Divine.

In the end, it is the faithfulness of the Divine that brings about all the good in the story. Both for Abraham and for us.

— Discuss...

—

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January 5, 2024

Fri, 05 Jan 2024 10:02:31 -0400

Psalm 110; Proverbs 22:1-9; Luke 6:27-31

“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

Whoever sows injustice reaps calamity, and the rod they wield in fury will be broken.

It is fascinating to me that these two readings are side by side. I was pondering on the second from Proverbs 22:8 and wondering, “how does the rod of injustice get broken?” Then BOOM, Luke 6:27-28, love.

This then leads to the question that I am confronted with:

Am I listening?

Perhaps the better question is, “am I hearing?“

I think of the scene from the film White Men Can't Jump where they are riding in the car talking about listening to Jimi Hendrix as opposed to hearing Jimi. Wesley Snipes character is emphatic that you are supposed to “hear” not “listen” to Jimi. Later in pivotal point of change for Woody Harrelson's character Snipes says, “Now you hear Jimi.”

We think we need to listen to Jesus, but the reality is that we need to hear him. There is something deeper that happens when we are heard as opposed to listened to.

I think the difference is that hearing leads to a response.

To love the way Jesus calls me to love in Luke 6 is something that I can give lip service to if I am listening. But, if I am hearing then it demands a response. The way of Jesus is radical.

I am wrestling today with, “Am I hearing?”

— Discuss...

—

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January 4, 2023

Thu, 04 Jan 2024 10:32:09 -0400

Psalm 110; Proverbs 3:1-12; James 4:11-17

My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline, and do not resent his rebuke, because the LORD disciplines those he loves, as a father the son he delights in.

I know that it's not cool to talk about “discipline.” Yet, I was really struck by the passage this morning from Proverbs. I mean, honestly, all the passages were punches in the gut today. But, this little verse really stood out.

It seems like we are living in a time where the idea of being disciplined by God is somehow counter God's divine love. Yet, when I think about my children and being a good dad, my disciplining of them was just as important as my grace toward them. It is in discipline that we grow. Just like a plant needs to be pruned to reach its full potential, so do we need discipline at times to reach ours.

Too often we think of God's discipline as some sort of fire and brimstone laden with wrath. But, the writer of Proverbs describes the LORD as a father who delights in his son. I delight in both my son and daughter. My discipline of them was rarely one fueled by anger. It was typically fueled by a desire to see them become the kind of people that I knew they could be.

If I, an imperfect earthly dad, can discipline in love for the good of my children, how much more so would the Divine?

God's discipline is not something that I need to run from. But, something that I can look toward as loving and compassionate so that I can become the best version of myself. It is the very renewal of the image of God in me.

What are your thoughts about the discipline of God?

— Discuss...

—

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Matthew 1:18-2:6 // The King of the Jews

Sun, 31 Dec 2023 17:25:34 -0400

We explore the prophecy of Micah in Matthew’s birth narrative and ask the question, “Who is this Jesus?”

Isaiah 61 // Crown of Beauty

Mon, 18 Dec 2023 17:34:10 -0400

We explore the passage from Jesus’ first sermon.

December 14, 2023

Thu, 14 Dec 2023 10:48:17 -0400

Philippians 3:7-11

Advent, Day 12

“But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. 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.”

I love this passage. It's one my favorite passages in all the Scriptures. It is one of those that just resonate deeply within my soul.

I remember hearing this passage preached by Sinclair Ferguson at Covenant Theological Seminary in St. Louis, MO. I will never forget his Scottish brogue booming out verse 11.

This desire to know Christ has become the driving force of my life. More than anything I want to truly know Christ. This knowledge that moves beyond facts and figures. I want to have an experiential knowledge of Christ.

The problem with this is that it means I have to experience a tension that never ends.

This tension of resurrection life and suffering.

Too often we want to believe that if we are walking closely with Christ then life will be easy and good. The fact of the matter is that as we know Christ we are going further up and further in to experiential relationship with him. This means experiencing resurrection life and suffering. The tension of the two is the means by which know Christ intimately.

During Advent we are reminded that in the midst of the suffering there is a longing for the resurrection life that will ultimately win out. So, we look toward his second Advent. The Advent of all things being made new and all suffering ceased.

Today I'm wrestling with, “Am I embracing the tension of resurrection life and suffering or am I just trying to avoid suffering?”

— Discuss...

—

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December 12, 2023

Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:49:47 -0400

Isaiah 4:2-6

Advent, Day 10

“Then the Lord will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over everything the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.”

I've never thought about the glory of God being a shelter and a refuge.

This ties in a bit with yesterday's passage about knowing who God is and that providing confidence, I think.

The storms of life will come. That's a given. Nobody gets through this life unscathed. All of us are going to face pain, heartbreak, and grief. The question is what will we do when that pain, heartbreak, and grief become present in our lives?

We can fight. We can flee. We can freeze.

Or so the contemporary wisdom goes.

But, what if there was something else that we could do? What if we could rest? What if we could find rest in the knowledge that the glory of God offers refuge and shelter in the storm?

I typically fight when hard stuff comes. Anger is my default emotional response. I don't get sad, I don't get scared, I get angry.

Over the last few years though I have been learning from watching my friend die that there's a different path. There is this path of rest. This way of yielding to Divine love and in so doing grieve and also find joy. It's a tension of the already but not yet that gets played out in real time.

Today I'm wrestling with the question, “Can I choose to rest in the glorious divine love in the face of grief and pain?”

— Discuss...

—

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December 11, 2023

Mon, 11 Dec 2023 15:51:54 -0400

Psalm 27

Advent, Day 9

”...even then I will be confident.”

Psalm 27 was one of the readings today and it has this little line, “even the I will be confident.”

I am thinking a lot about what it means to be confident right now for a series of talks that I will be giving in March, so of course this popped off the page.

The Psalm opens with a declaration of the identity of who God is for the psalmist. God is described as the light, salvation, and stronghold. Because of this the psalmist declares that they have no fear.

How little fear does the psalmist have?

“Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.”

I can't imagine what it would be like to have an army besiege me or war break out against me, but I'm pretty sure that I'd experience deep fear. If these bad things would befall me, would I still have confidence?

It turns out that confidence in this situation is rooted in the sure knowledge of the identity of the Divine. The psalmist doesn't wonder or doubt who the Divine is. There is no question in the psalmist's mind that the Divine offers light, salvation, and is a stronghold.

Having a sure sense of who God is what provides a foundation that offers confidence, even in the midst of great distress.

Today, I'm pondering: “Do I have a deep awareness of the grace, mercy, and lovingkindness of God so that when I face the storms of life I will have confidence?”

— Discuss...

—

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Isaiah 40:1-11 // The Glory Revealed

Mon, 11 Dec 2023 15:23:33 -0400

We take a look at Isaiah 40 in light of Advent

December 7, 2023

Thu, 07 Dec 2023 12:31:25 -0400

Hosea 6:1-6

Advent, Day 5

“Your love is like the morning mist, like the early dew that disappears.”

This is one of those passages that grabs me consistently in so many different ways. I read it and sit, almost stunned by its beauty and its challenge to my soul.

This morning the line quoted above was like a 2x4 between the eyes.

How often is this true of me regarding God?

Whenever I don't get my way with God my love grows cold so quickly. Whenever I experience any disappointment with my wants and desires my love dissipates.

“Whenever” happens more than I'd like to admit.

I am sure glad that Amy's love for me is not like my love for God.

What's wild to me is that God has an amazing track record in my life. When things really matter, God has made God's presence felt in my life. God in God's grace has helped me gain perspective sooner rather than later in those seasons of significant pain.

God's love for me has been enduring. God's love for me has proven faithful.

Yet, my love for God is like the morning mist.

— Discuss...

—

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December 6, 2023

Wed, 06 Dec 2023 16:03:23 -0400

Luke 21:34-38

Advent, Day 4

““Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap.”

I've been meditating on today's passage for a few hours now and something has clicked in my heart as I have pondered on it.

A number of years ago God broke me of my legalism about all sorts of things. But, then God needed to break of my legalism about not being legalistic. That was a fun (yeah let's call it that) journey.

What got my mind spinning was the connection between carousing, drunkenness, and the anxieties of life. I can see how carousing and drunkenness aren't good things and are choices that I make. But, the “anxieties of life?” I felt like I was in a segment from Sesame Street's “one of these things is not like the other.” How could Jesus compare the first two to the third?

Well, it finally clicked when my mind was able to connect Jesus' prescription for the problems he listed. Namely, “watch and pray.”

Carousing is defined as, “the activity of drinking alcohol and enjoying oneself with others in a noisy, lively way.” Drunkenness is drinking alcohol to excess. Anxiety is, “a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.”

Jesus prescribes us to watch and pray otherwise our hearts are weighed down by these things.

Enjoying time with friends and enjoying alcohol are not bad in and of themselves. It's when we take them to a place of excess that they become problematic. Planning for the future and counting the costs for tomorrow aren't bad things until they are taken to a place of excess.

Alcohol has not been an issue for me in my life. My drug of choice is food. Food is where I find control and seek emotional solace.

If Jesus were specifically speaking to me he would say that I need to be careful otherwise my heart will get weighed down with gluttony and the anxieties of life.

In this season of Advent we are in this time of waiting that begins in the darkness. When the world is dark we begin to feel out of control. So, we start grabbing for anything that makes us feel like we have control again. Food, drink, anxiety. If we are not careful these things will weigh our hearts down. We will find ourselves in a very real sense, out of our minds.

So, we watch and pray.

Isn't it interesting, there's not a single mention here of reading the Scriptures or meditating on God's word. No, the call is to watch and pray. That is, we are to seek to enter into the presence of the Divine through prayer.

I think Jesus calls us to this because if we can acknowledge that we are not God and if we can acknowledge that we can trust God to be in control, then we will find freedom from the anxieties of this life. We can enjoy a good meal without becoming gluttonous. We can enjoy a good party with friends without it becoming carousing.

When we have found peace, that wholeness of self and rest in God, then we will find freedom.

This is the hope of Advent.

It is a hope of freedom to joy rooted in the God that cares for all things.

— Discuss...

—

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December 5, 2023

Tue, 05 Dec 2023 11:51:29 -0400

Micah 4:6-13

Advent, Day 3

In that day,” declares the LORD, “I will gather the lame; I will assemble the exiles and those I have brought to grief. I will make the lame my remnant, those driven away a strong nation.”

This verse is fascinating to me.

Honestly, it challenges me and at the same time encourages me.

I am astounded by the God that self-identifies as the one who brought people to grief. There's no running from it. Through Micah's voice the God of the universe owns that fact that God has brought people to grief.

What do we do that?

How do we respond to it?

Let's be clear, this prophet is writing to a people in exile. A people that was indeed being judged by the divine. So, perhaps my (and maybe your) immediate response needs to be a bit tempered. The grief here is due to the experience of exile and judgement.

OK, fair enough.

Yet, the focus here is not on the judgement. But, it is on the other aspect of this, namely, that God will gather, assemble, and make strong.

In the midst of grief and exile God is at work doing something that will undo all of it.

This gives me hope.

I don't know about you, but when life gets messy I wonder, “where is God?” It turns out that God is working in the background and that I can hope that there will be a great undoing. If God does this for those whom were disobedient and under judgement, how much more so will God do this for those this side of the resurrection?

As I read and ponder these words and thinking about what the prophets said about exile and the remnant, I realize more and more how the message of resurrection and reconciliation in Christ carried such power.

Advent allows us to enter into the waiting through holy imagination that those before us lived through. They lived through the hope of the coming of the undoing. We get to experience the undoing every day.

Today I'm thinking about, “Will I recognize the undoing of grief all around me?”

— Discuss...

—

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December 4, 2023

Mon, 04 Dec 2023 12:51:47 -0400

Micah 4:1-5

Advent, Day 2

They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.

As we fully enter into the Advent season, I am looking forward to reading and meditating on the prophets. Each year most of the readings come from them during this season.

Advent is a time of preparation and fasting and waiting and hoping.

As I read Micah 4:1-5 today there was all kinds of good stuff in just a brief passage. But, the second half of verse three resonated deeply with me.

I don't know about you, but my heart is breaking because of the war and violence that seems to be everywhere. Israel and Hamas, Russia and Ukraine, the genocide of the Uighurs in China, the ongoing violence in Haiti, the never-ending wars on the continent of Africa, not to mention the violence that leads news broadcasts locally every day.

Of war and violence there seems to be no end.

All would seem hopeless if I didn't have the hopeful promise of a day coming when, “They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.”

What is fascinating to me is the beginning of verse three, “He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide.” This is not a pie in the sky kind of hope. This is a rugged and real hope. The days of peace will not be without disputes. It's just that the day I long for will have the disputes settled without violence because the Lord will settle them.

Oh how I long for this day!

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 28:11-30 // The Open Door

Sun, 03 Dec 2023 16:39:49 -0400

We put the wraps on the Book of Acts!

December 1, 2023

Fri, 01 Dec 2023 12:02:08 -0400

Psalm 80:1-19

“Restore us, LORD God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved.”

This repeated line in Psalm 80 rings out to me today.

This psalm opens by crying out for help and as the cry continues there seems to be a recognition that the people deserved a rebuke from God. The first time this line is uttered it is in reference to a perceived persecution but then the second time it is in light of the recognition of rebuke.

We live in a day and age where Christians, especially Evangelical Christians, feel like they are being persecuted. From much of my reading about culture and politics this feeling of persecution is what lead the majority of my brothers and sisters in Christ to support Donal Trump for the presidency. They are afraid and they want a strong man to protect them. As I look around I don't see any persecution. I see loads of persecution complexes but no real persecution.

I think what we are seeing is that many of us are confusing persecution with rebuke.

As I look on my own life, any time that someone calls me out for my failing to love well I initially receive it as persecution. It is often not until I have had time to reflect that it was a good an proper rebuke and I can confess, concur, and change.

On the whole, the American Christian church appears to be in the midst of a season of rebuke and we sure don't like it.

We have failed to love well.

I have failed to love well.

Today I'm wrestling with, “How can I grow in receiving rebuke not as persecution but as an opportunity to grow in love?”

— Discuss...

—

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November 27, 2023

Mon, 27 Nov 2023 14:31:24 -0400

2 Timothy 2:19-26

“Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels.”

Do you know how to get something to go “viral” on the internet? Make a foolish and stupid argument.

It's easy. I've had a few.

Do you know what happens after a time though? Your soul begins to wither. You become cynical and jaded. Your heart hardens. Happiness is found in other people's distress and anger.

It's gross.

Over the last number of years I've begun to intentionally avoid such things on the internet. I will have hard conversations in person. Because when we sit face to face we can't forget that the other person in made in God's likeness. But, even then, I am constantly on guard about whether or not the conversation is beneficial or if it's just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Particularly, this is true about sports and politics.

It's becoming more true of just about anything.

I want to be a person that discusses difficult things. I want to be a person who speaks up against injustice. I want to be a person that speaks for the truth.

I do not want to be involved in foolish and stupid arguments.

The latter demands that I listen and be fully present in the hard conversations. It requires me to hear what the other person is saying and noticing when the discussion has jumped the shark.

Today, I'm wrestling with this, “Am I fully present in the midst of difficult conversations or am I only concerned with winning an argument?”

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 27:1-28:10 // Shipwreck

Sun, 26 Nov 2023 14:49:29 -0400

How does Paul persevere through the storm?

November 20, 2023

Mon, 20 Nov 2023 12:30:27 -0400

Romans 2:1-11 (The Message)

“Those people are on a dark spiral downward. But if you think that leaves you on the high ground where you can point your finger at others, think again. Every time you criticize someone, you condemn yourself. It takes one to know one. Judgmental criticism of others is a well-known way of escaping detection in your own crimes and misdemeanors. But God isn’t so easily diverted. He sees right through all such smoke screens and holds you to what you’ve done.”

Do you ever read the Bible and think, “Well, that bit was written just for me!”?

That happened this morning. As I ponder on this passage I am reminded of that old saying, “When you point the finger that someone, there's three pointing back at you!”

Over the last week I have a multiple conversations with people about this idea of taking the log out of our own eye before trying to remove the speck from our neighbor's eye. It is amazing to me that I continue to have to wrestle with this in my own life. You would think that after kindergarten I'd have figured it out.

But, no.

Here I am still a judgemental jerk on so many levels.

I experience happiness when “those” people get it. I make excuses my people blow it.

What is it with me and this desire to judge others?

Well, this passage reminds me that it means there are likely issues in my own life that I'm seeking to distract myself and God from. Once again I find myself needing to do ever greater introspection to be sure that I'm seeking to love well.

I think I'm coming to learn that growing in my faith is like becoming stronger in the gym. As you get stronger you have increase the weight that you lift so that you can continue to grow stronger. As I go deeper into my faith I have to go deeper still into seeing the shadows of my own life to bring light to them.

Just because the shadow isn't as long as it used to be doesn't mean it's not there. I am learning that I can notice it most clearly as I judge others. That's the flashing light that says, “Hey bub, you to shine the light over here and deal with this!”

Today I am pondering, “Do I think that I can distract God from my shortfalls by pointing out the falling short of others?”

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 25 and 26 // Here I Stand

Sun, 19 Nov 2023 22:49:24 -0400

Paul stands before Festus and Agrippa

When Religion Goes Bad

Thu, 16 Nov 2023 16:26:24 -0400

God-washed power pollutes everything it touches but there is hope

Over the last year I’ve read three books that have caused me significant pause.

The first was, A Church Called Tov by Scot McKnight and Laura Barringer. The second was, Jesus and John Wayne by Kristin Kobes Du Mez. The third was, The Flag and the Cross by Phillip Gorski and Samuel Perry.

All three of these books evaluate the state of the American Evangelical church from slightly different perspectives. A Church Called Tov offers a prescription and hope for how to be a church that is good. Jesus and John Wayne looks at the historical development for how the American Evangelical church became the church that we see all around us. The Flag and the Cross is a data driven book that takes a look at White Christian Nationalism.

These three books have helped me answer the question, “Why?”

–

Why are we in the situation that we are in? What has happened to the American church? How did we get to a place where the many people are more aligned to political agendas than they are to the cause of Christ? Why are we seeing so many pastors falling morally? Why are so many people waking up to realize that they have been abused spiritually by the men and women that they have entrusted their souls to?

Why?

While all three of these have slightly different angles, I think they are all wrestling with the same fundamental question. How does religion deal with having power? Specifically how does Christianity handle power? Even more specifically, what happens when Evangelicalism ascends to a place of significant cultural and political power?

I would encourage you to read the books, They are accessible and have been helpful.

–

As I have pondered what these authors have written I have come to realize that there is a significant rot in the heart of American Evangelical Christianity.

Christianity has always thrived when it was not in power. It is a faith that was formed in the crucible of persecution. As power has shifted to the West, Christianity came with it. Over the last 150 years or so we have seen Christianity come to the fore as a power in and of itself.

One would hope that a faith that is rooted in self-sacrifical love, love of neighbor, and love of enemy would handle power well.

Sadly, we have failed the test.

We have failed the test corporately and we have failed individually as well.

What I am seeing all around me is the reality that power corrupts and God-washed power corrupts infinitely more.

–

C.S. Lewis wrote in his Reflections on the Psalms, “If the Divine call does not make us better, it will make us very much worse. Of all bad men religious bad men are the worst. Of all created beings the wickedest is one who originally stood in the immediate presence of God.”

Christianity has been gutted from the inside out. In much of American Christianity there is little spiritual formation or moral formation. It is all about “getting people saved.”

“Pray this prayer and get saved.”

The desire to sell eternal fire insurance has created a culture that is a mile wide and an inch deep. We are reaping now what we have sown over the last seventy years or so.

Christianity is now a token to trade for positions of power. It is no longer a life transforming faith.

In those first decades of the Christian faith it was known as, “The Way.” There was a lived aspect to Christianity. The expectation was that following in the way of Jesus was of utter importance.

Today? Today we simply disregard the teachings and ways of Jesus if they get in our way of power.

We have seen the rise to power of the “religious bad men.”

–

Is there any hope?

I think so.

If we can first acknowledge the reality that many of us hunger and thirst for power more than we do righteousness, that would be a good start. We need to own up to the fact that the grievances that many have toward the institution of the church are real and true.

We need to learn again the importance of spiritual formation for the one who is seeking to follow Jesus.

There must be a re-ordering of our lives. The way of Jesus must be first. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26)” Jesus is arguing for a re-orienting of our lives.

Jesus’ way is ultimately self-sacrificial rooted in love. When Jesus was offered power he said, “No.”

In the letter to the Philippians, Paul of Tarsus challenged the church there to relate to one another in light of the way of Christ. He wrote of Christ,

“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death — even death on a cross!”

There is hope. It is rooted not in the pursuit of power but in the pursuit of sharing the mind of Christ.

I desperately want this to be true of me. I so badly want to be a person for who is living the way of Jesus rooted in self-sacrificial love.

I can not change the world. I can change me and I can model this way for those whom have trusted themselves to my spiritual care.

It is high time for the rise of the religious good people.

When Religion Goes Bad

Thu, 16 Nov 2023 16:26:24 -0400

God-washed power pollutes everything it touches but there is hope

Over the last year I've read three books that have caused me significant pause.

These three books have helped me answer the question, “Why?”

—

Why?

I would encourage you to read the books, They are accessible and have been helpful.

—

As I have pondered what these authors have written I have come to realize that there is a significant rot in the heart of American Evangelical Christianity.

One would hope that a faith that is rooted in self-sacrifical love, love of neighbor, and love of enemy would handle power well.

Sadly, we have failed the test.

We have failed the test corporately and we have failed individually as well.

What I am seeing all around me is the reality that power corrupts and God-washed power corrupts infinitely more.

—

Christianity has been gutted from the inside out. In much of American Christianity there is little spiritual formation or moral formation. It is all about “getting people saved.”

“Pray this prayer and get saved.”

The desire to sell eternal fire insurance has created a culture that is a mile wide and an inch deep. We are reaping now what we have sown over the last seventy years or so.

Christianity is now a token to trade for positions of power. It is no longer a life transforming faith.

In those first decades of the Christian faith it was known as, “The Way.” There was a lived aspect to Christianity. The expectation was that following in the way of Jesus was of utter importance.

Today? Today we simply disregard the teachings and ways of Jesus if they get in our way of power.

We have seen the rise to power of the “religious bad men.”

—

Is there any hope?

I think so.

We need to learn again the importance of spiritual formation for the one who is seeking to follow Jesus.

Jesus' way is ultimately self-sacrificial rooted in love. When Jesus was offered power he said, “No.”

In the letter to the Philippians, Paul of Tarsus challenged the church there to relate to one another in light of the way of Christ. He wrote of Christ,

There is hope. It is rooted not in the pursuit of power but in the pursuit of sharing the mind of Christ.

I desperately want this to be true of me. I so badly want to be a person for who is living the way of Jesus rooted in self-sacrificial love.

I can not change the world. I can change me and I can model this way for those whom have trusted themselves to my spiritual care.

It is high time for the rise of the religious good people.

— Discuss...

—

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November 16, 2023

Thu, 16 Nov 2023 13:03:02 -0400

Judge 2:6-15

“After that whole generation had been gathered to their ancestors, another generation grew up who knew neither the LORD nor what he had done for Israel.”

There may be no more enduring meme than the angry old guy yelling, “Get off my lawn!” It seems that every generation feels like the “youth” are terrible and only getting worse. They look at the world and say, “These darn kids are hopeless.”

The younger generation mocks the older as well. “OK Boomer,” is the refrain that rings out these days.

Perhaps it's human nature to dislike the young or the old.

What strikes me is that so often we complain about the “youth” without taking a moment to consider the reality that those of us in the previous generations are responsible for the emerging generations.

Do we really care?

The emerging generations don't appear out of nowhere. They parented and raised by someone. Who could it be? Oh, yeah, the previous generations.

As I read this passage it finally hit me that the people in the previous generations didn't continue to pass on the stories of the God-Who-Saves to the next. Eventually, the people found themselves alone in the wilderness so to speak. It isn't the fault of the emerging generation.

I am coming to think that every emerging generation is a reflection of the inner realities of the previous generation.

Think about that for a moment.

We take what is in us and implant those values and principles into those we raise. They then embody those things. If we don't like what we see, it's our fault, not theirs. People can only ultimately only know what they've been taught.

And more is caught than taught.

Wait, what?

How we live is the clearest display of what we really think and believe. That gets caught by the emerging generations.

What we see in them that we appreciate and despise are things that we as the previous generation implanted in them through our display of life and what we specifically taught. Some of it also a reaction against the things that they see as hypocritical and wrong (which it almost always is).

The question I'm pondering, “How am I displaying for the emerging generations the life of love, grace, and mercy?”

— Discuss...

—

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November 15. 2023

Wed, 15 Nov 2023 11:23:42 -0400

Jeremiah 31:31-34

“I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

Self-centeredness has been on my mind lately due to the readings that have I been meditating on this week. As I come to this little passage where God unveils the next development in God's covenantal relationship with God's people, I am struck by the communal aspect of it.

In American Christianity we have often been enamored with the individual. We make all our heroes into John Wayne types. Strong, solitary, and not needing anyone. Yet, this is not what we actually see in the Scriptures. All of the heroes of the faith were deeply embedded in community.

Our fascination with the individual has bled over into our understanding of what God is up to in the world. We think of God as saving individuals. Yet, it appears that there is something more that God is doing. God is out here redeeming for God-self a people.

A community. A body. A congregation. A people.

I have heard so many messages about taking verses like this and individualizing it. This absolutely misses the point.

As I grow older and (I think) wiser, I am coming to the conclusion that it is not possible to walk with God alone. We walk with God in community.

The question I'm pondering today, “Am I opening myself to community or am I isolating myself?”

— Discuss...

—

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November 14, 2023

Tue, 14 Nov 2023 11:36:27 -0400

Nehemiah 8:1-12

“Then all the people went away to eat and drink, to send portions of food and to celebrate with great joy, because they now understood the words that had been made known to them.”

Nehemiah is one of those books in the Bible that get used for “leadership” retreats and the like. It always amazes me how we can take these ancient texts and make them fit into whatever we want them to fit. Nevertheless, that's not the point.

As I meditated on this passage this morning I was struck by the closing verse about how the people went away to celebrate because they understood the Scriptures. It was striking because it challenges my understanding of my calling in the realm of preaching or communicating the Scriptures to God's people.

I have always thought of the task before me to be one of challenging God's people to consider the Scriptures in such a way that brings about life change. But, did I miss the boat? Have I missed something important in my calling?

I think perhaps I have.

Could it be that the result I ought to be hoping for is for people to experience joy?

As I grow in my faith I experience more joy. Why? Because I grasp more fully the depths of God's grace and love for me and others. Maturing in faith leads to greater love and greater love leads to greater joy.

It turns that I've not been thinking about the end of my pastoring the people who have trusted their spiritual life to me. I've only thought about the process. It's like in parenting, if I'm raising children I do things very differently than if I'm raising adults.

I want to be a pastor that is focused on building joy in the people who entrust themselves to my care.

Today I'm pondering, “Am I leading to people to joy and celebration or to something less?”

— Discuss...

—

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November 13, 2023

Mon, 13 Nov 2023 16:44:13 -0400

Psalm 78

“They willfully put God to the test by demanding the food they craved.”

This psalm is one that constantly grabs my attention. It does so on multiple levels. Today, as I sit here meditating on it verse 18 almost levitated off the page.

It wasn't the putting God to the test bit that jumps out. It is the “demanding the food they craved,” bit.

I am such a selfish and self-centered person. So much of my feelings toward the Divine is related on whether or not my cravings are met. I don't think in my life I have ever experienced need. (At least not knowingly, I am sure that my mom would be able to tell me some behind the scenes times when things were really hard.)

During the first few years of our marriage finances were tight. We laugh about taking rolled coins to Hot 'N Now for date nights. But, even then, we had all our needs met. We had food and housing and clothes and vehicles and gasoline. There was no need that we had that wasn't taken care of.

There have been times that I have had some significant desires for material items and those were not able to be met. “Oddly”, it was during those when I felt like the Divine was farthest from me.

Golly gee why was that?

Because my wants and desires weren't being met.

Now, let's be very clear, I am not equating seasons of deep and abiding pain with what I'm wrestling with. I have friends who have lost children and spouses. Questioning the presence and care of the Divine in those times is not what I'm wrestling with today.

No, I'm wrestling with this sense of feeling like God has failed me because I haven't received my wants and desires like a spoiled child.

I think this is what the psalmist is getting at with this line about the “food they craved.” God was providing for the need of the people but they wanted more. They wanted their cravings met. Jesus fed the 5000 and they chased him around the lake, wanting more.

My belly, my cravings, my desires drive so much of how I move through the world.

Today I'm wrestling with the question, “Am I learning to be content or am I being overtaken by my cravings?”

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 24 // A Clear Conscience

Sun, 12 Nov 2023 20:53:10 -0400

We delve into Acts 24 and Paul before Felix.

November 10, 2023

Fri, 10 Nov 2023 12:12:45 -0400

Psalm 78:1-8, The Message

“We’re not keeping this to ourselves, we’re passing it along to the next generation— GOD’s fame and fortune, the marvelous things he has done.“

This theme of passing things along to the next generation has been running through a lot of my reading lately. I wrote about it a bit on November 6 and the need to be intentional with relationships.

Today, I'm struck by this idea of passing along the stories of “the marvelous things he has done.”

It reminds me of a conversation that I had with my son a few years ago. He asked, “Dad, how do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“You coming alongside people in some of the hardest things in their life. How do you keep believing in God?”

“That's a really good question. I think what happens is that every time I walk through one of those seasons of life with people I learn something new and I learn something that I also need to let go of. But, I bring with me the things that I've learned in the past about God too. Nothing happens in a vacuum. So, I have this whole history with God that I bring with me and that history teaches me how to hold on in the midst of the hurt.”

“Oh. That's deep.”

“I'm a well.”

“Huh?”

“You'll get it some day.”

As I meditate on this verse today I am reminded how important it is to share with our children the stories of where we have seen God care for us and provide for us. The stories of God's faithfulness in the midst of our struggles.

It's the struggle that makes the provision beautiful.

The question I'm thinking about today is, “Do I remember how God has cared for, provided for, and done marvelous works in my life?”

— Discuss...

—

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How Do You Read the Bible?

Thu, 09 Nov 2023 16:57:57 -0400

What if meditation was the key to reading the Bible?

I was in high school and attending something called a Summer Institute at Eastern Michigan University. Rising high school seniors could attend the institute in a number of disciplines. I attended this two week experience for music. It was an amazing couple of weeks and I met some really fun people.

It was at this Summer Institute that I was first exposed to meditation. We sat on yoga mats and were told to clear our minds. Then we focused on breathing. It wasn’t long before most of us were asleep, myself included. I didn’t really get the whole meditation thing.

Over my years in ministry I have come to love Eugene Peterson. The translation of the Bible that he lead, The Message, has been salve to my weary soul. His books have inspired and challenged me to know end. He is, in so many ways my spiritual mentor. I want to be a pastor the way he was. I want to love well and write and preach and care for my neighbors.

As I was reading his beautiful little text, Eat This Book, I was shocked by the discovery that he was in many ways primarily writing a book about meditation. Eat This Book is a book about spiritual reading. The primary question that Peterson wrestles with is this, “How do we read the Bible?”

Many of us read the Bible as though it is a rule book or an encyclopedia. We mine it for information that we can then use. The thing is, that’s not what the Bible is. The Bible isn’t a textbook or a set of rules or a history text. No, the Bible is the collection of people’s interactions with the Divine.

Does the Bible have rules? Yes. Does the Bible have information? Yes. Does the Bible have history? Yes.

But, the Bible is not really any of those things. It is qualitatively different. It is a collection of stories that are all used to tell one story. This is a magnificent story about a God whose engages people with “love-in-action”. So many other god stories are about capricious gods seeking to win the affection of their adherents. It’s hard to tell the difference in those stories between the gods and the people. The stories of this God are similar but different. What I find different is that they are stories of a God who takes the initiative through love-in-action, ultimately becoming like the very ones God seeks to save.

As I was saying, Peterson is writing about how to read the Bible focuses his attention on meditation. This punched me between the eyes because ever since that day at EMU I have never been a fan of meditation. It always seemed to be nothing more than a good excuse to have a nap. (Now that I think about it, perhaps I should have leaned into it sooner!)

Peterson writes, “Meditation is the primary way in which we guard against the fragmentation of our Scripture reading into isolated oracles. Meditation enters into the coherent universe of God’s revelation. Meditation is the prayerful employ of imagination in order to become friends with the text. It must not be confused with fancy or fantasy.”

Why does he write this?

He writes this because meditation of the Scripture breaks us free from our approach to it as a rule book or encyclopedia or history text. When we study it, we break it down into atomistic pieces and as a result can fragment the text beyond recognition. This, I think, is one of the reasons that we have seen such a spiritual degradation in our American evangelical context. We read certain verses in isolation from one another in such a way that we think they exist in a vacuum. But, the verses of the Bible exist in an organic connection to one another. We need to let them into our lives.

As Peterson writes, we need the Scriptures to become our friends.

You don’t befriend a person by learning all their key facts.

Know, you befriend a person by being with them. You get to know them beyond their bare details.

Have you ever been to a bad funeral? I have. Bad funerals are the worst. A bad funeral is one where the officiant clearly doesn’t know the person who has died. They simply relate some facts about the person and then read a few Bible verses and that’s that.

I’ve also been to some really good funerals. These are funerals where those who speak knew the person. They tell stories and often there is laughter. But, they also communicate to those there what was most important to the person who passed away. These funerals are the good because there is a depth of friendship that permeates the whole experience.

Meditation on Scripture is the act of getting to know the text.

You read it. You meditate on it. You ponder it. You wrestle with it. You let your imagination run with it.

The primary Hebrew word in the Old Testament that we translate as “meditate,” is hagah. It carries the idea of murmuring, pondering, imagining. It can also have this idea of “make like” or “to compare.” It’s interesting to consider these latter ideas.

When we meditate on the Scripture and we allow our holy imagination to become engaged perhaps it brings us to a place where we might be able to begin making this world like the kingdom of God? Perhaps we bring a little heaven on earth if we spent more time meditating on the Scriptures?

As I learn more about the practice of meditating on the Scripture I find that it shapes my view of the world. I become more hopeful. I become less cynical. More and more I see the world through a lens of grace and mercy and love.

Perhaps if pondered this text more and studied it a little less, we would become more loving?

May we ponder together this beautiful story of the loving-in-action God!

How Do You Read the Bible?

Thu, 09 Nov 2023 16:57:57 -0400

What if meditation was the key to reading the Bible?

It was at this Summer Institute that I was first exposed to meditation. We sat on yoga mats and were told to clear our minds. Then we focused on breathing. It wasn't long before most of us were asleep, myself included. I didn't really get the whole meditation thing.

Many of us read the Bible as though it is a rule book or an encyclopedia. We mine it for information that we can then use. The thing is, that's not what the Bible is. The Bible isn't a textbook or a set of rules or a history text. No, the Bible is the collection of people's interactions with the Divine.

Does the Bible have rules? Yes. Does the Bible have information? Yes. Does the Bible have history? Yes.

But, the Bible is not really any of those things. It is qualitatively different. It is a collection of stories that are all used to tell one story. This is a magnificent story about a God whose engages people with “love-in-action”. So many other god stories are about capricious gods seeking to win the affection of their adherents. It's hard to tell the difference in those stories between the gods and the people. The stories of this God are similar but different. What I find different is that they are stories of a God who takes the initiative through love-in-action, ultimately becoming like the very ones God seeks to save.

Peterson writes, “Meditation is the primary way in which we guard against the fragmentation of our Scripture reading into isolated oracles. Meditation enters into the coherent universe of God's revelation. Meditation is the prayerful employ of imagination in order to become friends with the text. It must not be confused with fancy or fantasy.”

Why does he write this?

As Peterson writes, we need the Scriptures to become our friends.

You don't befriend a person by learning all their key facts.

Know, you befriend a person by being with them. You get to know them beyond their bare details.

Have you ever been to a bad funeral? I have. Bad funerals are the worst. A bad funeral is one where the officiant clearly doesn't know the person who has died. They simply relate some facts about the person and then read a few Bible verses and that's that.

I've also been to some really good funerals. These are funerals where those who speak knew the person. They tell stories and often there is laughter. But, they also communicate to those there what was most important to the person who passed away. These funerals are the good because there is a depth of friendship that permeates the whole experience.

Meditation on Scripture is the act of getting to know the text.

You read it. You meditate on it. You ponder it. You wrestle with it. You let your imagination run with it.

Perhaps if pondered this text more and studied it a little less, we would become more loving?

May we ponder together this beautiful story of the loving-in-action God!

— Discuss...

—

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November 9, 2023

Thu, 09 Nov 2023 11:42:00 -0400

Psalm 70

“Let those on the hunt for you sing and celebrate.”

Throughout my life of faith the hardest thing for me has always been the reality that I can not experience God with my senses. You would think that this would create in me a lack of belief, yet it has not. Why? Because I think I see all around me the effects of God.

I guess it's like that truism, “I can't see the wind but I can feel it's effect.”

I think about this a lot. How can I believe when I can not see?

Some would say, “This is where faith comes in.” I suppose that's true. But, it is not very satisfying.

As I read this psalm today this line, “Let those on the hunt for you sing and celebrate,” really grabbed my attention. I've been thinking about it all morning.

There is something called the Baarder-Meinhoff phenomenon. This is what we call that phenomenon that happens when you start noticing things that you never saw before. For instance, you buy a yellow car and all of a sudden you being “seeing” yellow cars all over the place. Were they never there before? Of course they were. But, for some reason you just didn't notice them. Now, you do.

In a very real sense, what you seek to see you will find.

I see God in so many things. I see God in God's creation. I see God through the creative process. I see God in technology and science and medicine.

Where I see God the most is in the self-sacrificial loving-kindness of people. I look around and am amazed by the way people love. So many, I'd say the vast majority of people that I know love so well. Sure, there are people that I experience as unkind, yet I also see them love other people well.

As I look for God and see God in the people around me it causes me to rejoice.

What I'm pondering today is, “Am I looking for God?”

— Discuss...

—

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November 8, 2023

Wed, 08 Nov 2023 12:38:19 -0400

Matthew 15:1-9

“Why do you use your rules to play fast and loose with God’s commands?”

I am sure that someone with religious authority would never, and I mean never, create rules to “play and fast loose with God's commands.”

Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is happens all the time.

If I'm really honest with myself I know that I have done this. I have used my authority as a religious leader to make rules so as to get people to do what I want them to do or to manipulate a situation for my benefit.

It's gross. I have elsewhere written about this. I have sought forgiveness from those people to whom I have done this and now I am hyper aware to ensure that I don't do this. It's one of the reasons that I don't post a lot about politics directly or specifically. When it comes to those things they are just my opinions and opinions are like arm pits, hairy, stinky, and you have two.

I think that those of us with religious authority are constantly at danger to do this very thing. We can create “interpretations” of Scripture to use it as we will. I see this in relation to morality and politics most often. What's really fascinating is when religious leaders do this to avoid many statements made by Jesus.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Love your enemy.” “Pray for those who persecute.”

The list could go on.

We do a lot of work to explain those away or to make it so that “love” looks like us being in control or getting our way. Yet, this is not the way of love. The way of love calls for self-sacrifice. It is a determined effort to want the best for the other.

Today I'm wrestling with this, “Am I living in such a way where love rules or that I love rules?”

— Discuss...

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November 7, 2023

Tue, 07 Nov 2023 14:25:00 -0400

Psalm 128

Blessed are all who fear the LORD, who walk in obedience to him.

I don't like the word, “obedience.” It makes me feel like God is some sort of task master. I do like the word, “blessed.” I like the idea that God is doing something special for me.

These double feelings are ones that I'm guessing I'm not alone in having. If we are really honest with ourselves we prefer “blessed” over “obedience.”

What am I supposed to do with my two sets of feelings?

Perhaps, I need to think about them a bit differently. What if blessed is related to obedience but not in the sense that blessed is a reward but as a state of being living an obedient life? Is that splitting hairs? Perhaps, but it resonates a bit with me.

Eugene Peterson in the Message translates this passage like this, “All you who fear GOD, how blessed you are! How happily you walk on his smooth straight road!”

Do you see the slight difference in how Peterson takes this from the NIV in the opening? He translates “obedience” as “happily you walk on his smooth straight road.” One might even say that as we walk on the way we experience blessing.

I want to live God's way. When I live God's way I am blessed. The blessing is not the result of obedience. The blessing is the reality, I experience this state of being through walking on God's smooth, straight road.

What I'm wrestling with today: “In whose way am I walking, mine or God's?”

— Discuss...

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November 6, 2023

Mon, 06 Nov 2023 14:40:43 -0400

Joshua 4:1-24

And then he told the People of Israel, “In the days to come, when your children ask their fathers, ‘What are these stones doing here?’ tell your children this: ‘Israel crossed over this Jordan on dry ground.’

Maybe it is because I just spent significant time with my daughter at her college campus; perhaps it's seeing the little ones running around at missional community; but this story from Joshua 4 hit me particularly hard today.

This idea of passing along the stories of God to the generations to come is something so very beautiful.

Every Sunday I experience an extreme juxtaposition. In the morning I serve a congregation that is predominantly comprised of men and women who are older than I am. In the evening I serve a congregation of people who are younger or the same age as I am. Some of the younger families have little children. This stark contrast each week is something that is beginning to leave a mark on me.

As I think about this passage in Joshua 4 it strikes me that older people of faith need to be around younger people of faith. They need to be able to tell the stories of God's faithful work in their lives.

Younger people of faith need to be around older people of faith. They need to hear the stories of God's faithfulness in generations past.

When we don't have the cross-generational conversations then we are in danger of forgetting God's faithfulness.

Throughout the story of the people of God we are told to remember. Often there are these moments where physical reminders are crafted to force the question. Of course to remember demands that we are intentional to hold on to the good and the beautiful things that God has done. We are to reminisce and share the stories otherwise they will get forgotten.

It is these stories of God's faithful past that help us hold on to hope in the midst of the difficult present that we inevitably find ourselves in.

The question I'm pondering today is this, “Am I intentional in my relationships with those older and younger so that through them I might embrace hope?”

— Discuss...

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November 2, 2023

Thu, 02 Nov 2023 11:47:29 -0400

Romans 2:17-29

“You can get by with almost anything if you front it with eloquent talk about God and his law.”

This passage in Romans is one that I think about often. I have come to the conclusion that for those of us Christians in the United States, particularly, should likely find our parallels with the Jewish people that Paul addresses more so than the Gentiles. Why? Because we are the people who have largely grown up with the Bible and religion and God-talk.

When I read myself as the religious person in Romans 2, I can almost hear the record scratch.

Over the years I have become an expert at God-talk. I read and study the Bible. I read and study theology. It is what I do. As a result, there is a constant temptation to simply God-wash anything I want.

Particularly in today's cultural milieu if I simply use the right words and phrases I could get away with just about anything.

Our Christian culture cares so much more about words than it does about the content of our character. I recently saw a quote from a famous pastor that said, in effect, all that matters is our words. Say the right words and how you live your life doesn't matter.

As I reflect today on my life I am struck by how flippantly I have used phrases that God-wash actions and ideas that I want to be true or OK.

Here's the question I'm meditating on today, “Is God's word changing me from the inside or am I using God's word to keep me from changing?”

— Discuss...

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Silence Is Scary

Wed, 01 Nov 2023 14:02:28 -0400

Entering into silence can spiritually form us

There’s only a few sermons that I’ve heard that I remember. As I write that I want to make sure you understand what I’m not saying, I’m not saying that sermons are unimportant. I think they are very important. The sermons I remember are likely not sermons that someone else remembers. They are moments in time that God uses in the lives of people.

There was one sermon in particular that my friend, Doug, gave a number of years ago. He was talking about how noisy the world is and how quiet God’s voice can be. All during the message he had an iPod playing very quietly and then at the end he had us all get quiet and all of a sudden you could hear the music.

This shook me.

I am a noisy person.

When I enter a space I do so loudly. In social settings you know where I’m at all times. It’s not that I’m trying to be the center of attention, I’m just loud. My voice carries and so does my laugh.

It is not just my outward presence that is loud. My interior life is loud too. As I grew up I always had a TV on or music playing. When I sat down to do homework the TV had to be running. When I was in seminary I wrote and researched and studied in busy coffee shops, intentionally.

For most of my life I have not liked the quiet. When things get quiet my thoughts get loud. I am not necessarily a big fan of those thoughts all the time. It can be disconcerting for me to allow my thoughts to run rampant.

Silence is scary.

This past summer I took two nights to just get away for a silent retreat. I shut down my phone. I didn’t listen to music (well, that’s a whole story in and of itself). I did allow myself to listen to a baseball game while I ate dinner.

I was alone in a cabin.

I went hiking alone in the silence and solitude of nature.

Leading up to these two nights away I was in a state of high anxiety because I was worried about being silent and alone for those 48 hours. I had never been a lone, truly alone, for that length of time.

Silence is scary.

I wish I could say that I heard the audible voice of the divine during my retreat. I did not. I also wish I could say that there was some sort of profound awakening that I experienced. But, I did not.

What did happen is that I faced my fear of silence.

It took almost a solid 24 hours for my mind quiet down. To really and truly be able to focus my attention on something other than my own thoughts. When that happened it was the most remarkable thing.

My mind could finally focus.

I was reading in the book of Jeremiah and some other commentaries that I brought along with me. I devoured the text.

Even more interesting was during my time hiking I was meditating on the Lord’s prayer a stanza at a time. As I did, in that silence, those lines came to life for me. I do not really know how to explain it, but it was like I had never experienced them before.

Ever since then, something has happened within me. I have begun to delight in silence.

In the mornings I awake around 6 am-ish and drink coffee in the quiet dark house. It’s become my favorite part of the day. I used to have a compulsion to turn on SportsCenter or something else. But now, my day begins with about 90 minutes to 2 hours of almost total silence.

Silence isn’t scary anymore.

Silence has become a gift.

It is in the silence where I am learning to meet God.

I suppose there’s a reason that silence has been a significant part of spiritual formation for many in the Christian tradition. I need silence now like I need water to drink or air to breathe. I can tell when I haven’t had enough silence. My mind runs and spins and sleep is hard to come by.

It is in the silence where freedom from the weight of the world is offered and received.

When was the last time you were silent? What’s stopping you? What do you think might happen if you entered into silence?

Silence Is Scary

Wed, 01 Nov 2023 14:02:28 -0400

Entering into silence can spiritually form us

There's only a few sermons that I've heard that I remember. As I write that I want to make sure you understand what I'm not saying, I'm not saying that sermons are unimportant. I think they are very important. The sermons I remember are likely not sermons that someone else remembers. They are moments in time that God uses in the lives of people.

There was one sermon in particular that my friend, Doug, gave a number of years ago. He was talking about how noisy the world is and how quiet God's voice can be. All during the message he had an iPod playing very quietly and then at the end he had us all get quiet and all of a sudden you could hear the music.

This shook me.

I am a noisy person.

When I enter a space I do so loudly. In social settings you know where I'm at all times. It's not that I'm trying to be the center of attention, I'm just loud. My voice carries and so does my laugh.

Silence is scary.

This past summer I took two nights to just get away for a silent retreat. I shut down my phone. I didn't listen to music (well, that's a whole story in and of itself). I did allow myself to listen to a baseball game while I ate dinner.

I was alone in a cabin.

I went hiking alone in the silence and solitude of nature.

Silence is scary.

What did happen is that I faced my fear of silence.

It took almost a solid 24 hours for my mind quiet down. To really and truly be able to focus my attention on something other than my own thoughts. When that happened it was the most remarkable thing.

My mind could finally focus.

I was reading in the book of Jeremiah and some other commentaries that I brought along with me. I devoured the text.

Even more interesting was during my time hiking I was meditating on the Lord's prayer a stanza at a time. As I did, in that silence, those lines came to life for me. I do not really know how to explain it, but it was like I had never experienced them before.

Ever since then, something has happened within me. I have begun to delight in silence.

In the mornings I awake around 6 am-ish and drink coffee in the quiet dark house. It's become my favorite part of the day. I used to have a compulsion to turn on SportsCenter or something else. But now, my day begins with about 90 minutes to 2 hours of almost total silence.

Silence isn't scary anymore.

Silence has become a gift.

It is in the silence where I am learning to meet God.

I suppose there's a reason that silence has been a significant part of spiritual formation for many in the Christian tradition. I need silence now like I need water to drink or air to breathe. I can tell when I haven't had enough silence. My mind runs and spins and sleep is hard to come by.

It is in the silence where freedom from the weight of the world is offered and received.

When was the last time you were silent? What's stopping you? What do you think might happen if you entered into silence?

— Discuss...

—

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November 1, 2023

Wed, 01 Nov 2023 11:52:32 -0400

Psalm 34:1-10, The Message

“Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him. When I was desperate, I called out, and GOD got me out of a tight spot.”

When I'm going through something heavy or hard I often think, “Why am I feeling this way? Compared to what so many others are going through this is nothing.”

Often, when I feel like this, I will not pray because I don't want to burden God or in some sense I think that these feelings are not worthy to be brought to God.

One of the first things that I learned in my young Christian life was that feelings don't matter. They are nothing more than the caboose of a train that is driven by the fact of God's word and faith. This left me in a state where I was constantly trying to hide, stuff, or in so many other ways ignore my feelings.

That was so misguided. The idea that our feelings are nothing and they don't matter to God is such an unhelpful and unbiblical idea. This might be one of the most destructive things that I have had to undo as I have matured in my journey of faith.

I love this line, “Never hide your feelings from him.” God cares about our feelings. God can handle all our emotions, big and small.

As I ponder these verses it strikes me that the psalmist probably saw or experienced God's hand getting him out of a tight spot because he had brought all his feelings to God. By not hiding, the psalmist was open to seeing how God was at work in the world.

The question I am going to be wrestling with today is this, “Am I hiding my feelings or my internal life from God?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 31, 2023

Tue, 31 Oct 2023 14:02:02 -0400

James 2:14-18

“Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?”

I have a friend whose favorite saying is, “acta non verba,” this translates to “actions not words.” He's one of those people who will do anything for you. His actions clearly demonstrate that the words he uses have meaning.

Many of us are good talkers.

We know the right things to say. But what about our actions? How often do you promise to do something but then don't follow through?

I want to say that never happens to me, but it does. It probably occurs more often than I'd like to admit. Oh sure, I have a good “reason,” but the reality is that it's just an excuse.

It is really hard for me to admit that.

There's a really helpful book about the rise of the church in the Roman Empire entitled, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church by Alan Kreider. In it he writes about how the verb, “look,” was central to the practice of the early church. Kreider argues, convincingly I think, that we have lost this idea of a new way of living in the world.

Perhaps, we could sum up much of the modern church as a lot of God-talk and not much God-acts.

Perhaps, I could sum up much of my own life this way.

— Discuss...

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October 30, 2023

Mon, 30 Oct 2023 10:44:42 -0400

Psalm 119:41-48

“Let your love, God, shape my life with salvation, exactly as you promised...”

Last night we were talking about Paul's call to go to Jerusalem and how he understood his obedience to that call would result in seeing God work. One of the things that came out of conversation was this desire that we would have as clear a call as Paul did. How nice would it be to really know what our calling is?

The fact of the matter is that we do know what our calling is.

It's clear.

Our calling is to love our neighbor as our self.

At the most fundamental of levels this is our calling.

Then this morning I read this little passage with this opening line, “Let your love, God, shape my life with salvation, exactly as you promised...”

Oh what a prayer!

I'm wrestling this morning with this simple and profound thought, “How does my life look differently if God's love has shaped it?”

— Discuss...

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Acts 21:17-22:30 // Unexpected Justice

Sun, 29 Oct 2023 15:36:29 -0400

What happens when Paul shows up in Jerusalem?

October 28, 2023

Sat, 28 Oct 2023 08:34:22 -0400

John 5:39-47

“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.”

As I continue to read and study the Bible I am more convinced than ever that much of what Jesus said to the religious leaders of his day are the things that I need to hear.

John 5:39-40 is case in point.

I study the Bible, religiously (teehee). It is, quite literally, part of my job description. But, am I missing the forest for the trees? Am I seeing the reality that everything is about Jesus?

More than that, am I willing to receive from Jesus the life I say I want?

Ouch.

That is a punch in the gut.

That hits a bit too close to home.

The life I say I want is one of love, grace, mercy, and joy. It's one that is marked by the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5. It is one where the burdens of life are eased by being deeply connected to Christ.

Do I really want that?

Because when I'm real honest about myself it sure doesn't seem to be true. I am given over to easy anger, rage, and frustration. Stress and snark are hand in hand.

Jesus is in a way standing right here in front of me. Will I receive the life he is offering or will I continue to just hold on as tightly as I can to the life that I say I don't want?

The question I'm wrestling with today is, “Am I willing to receive from Jesus the life I say I want?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 27, 2023

Fri, 27 Oct 2023 19:59:01 -0400

Psalm 90:1-6

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.”

This beautiful line is from Psalm 90:1. I grabbed my attention and I keep thinking about it. This concept of God being our dwelling place.

I too often think about God as someone far off or disconnected. Yet, here the Psalmist calls me to consider the reality that it is in God where we will dwell.

The dwelling place in the ancient world was important because it provided protection and security. In effect, the Psalmist is saying, “Lord, you have been our protection and security throughout all generations.

In my world, security and protection is something that I have to earn. It's not something that I consciously trust God to provide. Oh sure, the words will come out. But, at the end of the day I often think that security and protection is the result of my own effort.

I wonder if some of the rampant fear that is present in our world is the result of people no longer believing that God protects and secures? We need weapons and power and money to feel protected and secure these days.

But do we?

What if we set our minds and hearts on the God who is our dwelling place and has been throughout all generations?

The question I will be pondering tonight as I lay in bed is, “Do I trust that God will protect and provide for me?”

— Discuss...

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Prayer Doesn't Change God

Thu, 26 Oct 2023 16:08:17 -0400

Prayer is something so difficult for me to get my mind around. As I think about praying it raises so many, many questions.

If God is sovereign why pray? Why doesn’t God answer my prayers? Why don’t I hear God when I pray? What value is there to praying? Why did that person get healed and that one didn’t? Why did that prayer have “results” and that one didn’t? Does prayer do anything?

And so many, many more.

I often think of prayer in the context of utility. Quite simply, “does it work?”

–

As far as I can tell Jesus’ closest followers only asked to be taught one thing, how to pray.

How did Jesus respond?

“He said to them, “When you pray, say: “‘Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation.’” (Luke 11:2-4)

Short. Focused. To the point.

Elsewhere talking about prayer Jesus said,

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6:5-8)

What are we to make of these things?

–

Throughout the history of religious people prayer has always played a significant role. I remember in seminary reading about the desert fathers and mothers and how prayer was central. Or learning about the monastic movement and the important role of prayer for these people.

Every week I pray a “pastoral prayer” and a prayer of invocation and a prayer over the offering. I pray before I preach and after I preach. I pray before meals. I pray before I write. I pray before I spend time in the Scriptures. I prayer before I meet with people. I pray during my devotional times.

As I think about it, I pray quite a bit.

Yet, I wouldn’t consider myself a pray-er.

–

My friend John, he was a pray-er. After he died his wife passed out index cards that he kept on hand that tracked what he was praying for for his friends.

Prayer was central to his spiritual life.

I know of many people for whom prayer is significant to their lives and spirituality.

My mentor, Bob, is a pray-er. He prays like his life depends on it. There is a qualitative difference between his prayer and my prayer.

I think I often pray as someone who has to pray as opposed to wanting to pray. I think this is because I can’t quite figure out prayer. It doesn’t fit my intellectual boxes.

Perhaps it’s similar from the opening lines of Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller when he wrote, “I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve.”

–

He goes on to write, “But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.”

When I see people like Bob or John pray, I want to love prayer the way they do. These guys have and do show me the way.

Yet, I struggle.

–

I have found lately that simply praying the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples has helped me. Often I will find myself meditating on the words. Or the words will just come into my mind as I drive or walk.

When this happens I feel something in me.

I feel a connection to the divine. It’s faint. But it’s there.

I am coming to grips with an idea that I first heard about in the film Shadowlands. It’s a film about C.S. Lewis and his relationship with his wife, Joy. Near the end of the film there is this line, “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God- it changes me.”

The idea that I’m coming to grips with is this: I’m helpless.

That’s not easy for me.

I think of myself as strong. I think of myself as someone who rarely needs anything. Yet, if I am honest, truly honest, I am helpless.

–

“Prayer doesn’t change God–it changes me.”

As I continue to learn to pray, I am learning that this ethereal, surreal, intangible practice of seeking to be in the presence of the divine changes me.

It’s not a utilitarian practice. It’s something deeper than that. It’s experiential.

I long to be able to speak that line from the film and mean it. I long to pray because the need flows out of me all the time - waking and sleeping.

–

Perhaps, as I grow in my desperation to desire to pray I will someday learn to pray.

Prayer Doesn't Change God

Thu, 26 Oct 2023 16:08:17 -0400

Prayer is something so difficult for me to get my mind around. As I think about praying it raises so many, many questions.

If God is sovereign why pray? Why doesn't God answer my prayers? Why don't I hear God when I pray? What value is there to praying? Why did that person get healed and that one didn't? Why did that prayer have “results” and that one didn't? Does prayer do anything?

And so many, many more.

I often think of prayer in the context of utility. Quite simply, “does it work?”

—

As far as I can tell Jesus' closest followers only asked to be taught one thing, how to pray.

How did Jesus respond?

Short. Focused. To the point.

Elsewhere talking about prayer Jesus said,

What are we to make of these things?

—

As I think about it, I pray quite a bit.

Yet, I wouldn't consider myself a pray-er.

—

My friend John, he was a pray-er. After he died his wife passed out index cards that he kept on hand that tracked what he was praying for for his friends.

Prayer was central to his spiritual life.

I know of many people for whom prayer is significant to their lives and spirituality.

My mentor, Bob, is a pray-er. He prays like his life depends on it. There is a qualitative difference between his prayer and my prayer.

I think I often pray as someone who has to pray as opposed to wanting to pray. I think this is because I can't quite figure out prayer. It doesn't fit my intellectual boxes.

Perhaps it's similar from the opening lines of Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller when he wrote, “I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve.”

—

He goes on to write, “But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.”

When I see people like Bob or John pray, I want to love prayer the way they do. These guys have and do show me the way.

Yet, I struggle.

—

When this happens I feel something in me.

I feel a connection to the divine. It's faint. But it's there.

I am coming to grips with an idea that I first heard about in the film Shadowlands. It's a film about C.S. Lewis and his relationship with his wife, Joy. Near the end of the film there is this line, “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God- it changes me.”

The idea that I'm coming to grips with is this: I'm helpless.

That's not easy for me.

I think of myself as strong. I think of myself as someone who rarely needs anything. Yet, if I am honest, truly honest, I am helpless.

—

“Prayer doesn't change God—it changes me.”

As I continue to learn to pray, I am learning that this ethereal, surreal, intangible practice of seeking to be in the presence of the divine changes me.

It's not a utilitarian practice. It's something deeper than that. It's experiential.

I long to be able to speak that line from the film and mean it. I long to pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping.

—

Perhaps, as I grow in my desperation to desire to pray I will someday learn to pray.

— Discuss...

—

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October 26, 2023

Thu, 26 Oct 2023 10:00:53 -0400

Jeremiah 3

“I'm committed in love to you.”

I'm really grateful that my kids and I have never had a falling out. I can't really imagine the pain that would cause. Being estranged from my children is probably my greatest fear. I don't even want to think about it.

As a pastor, I have spent a lot of time talking through things with people who are estranged from their children or parents. The heartache of those broken relationships is indescribable. It is really trendy these days to talk about how your parents and sibilings are people you don't need in your life, yet nobody really means it. When our relationships with parent, children, or siblings are broken it is devastating. Some times those relationships need to be broken because of abuse, and while healthy, it is no less devastating.

That's the thing.

When it comes to these relationships, that are the closest to us and most intimate, the breaking of them, even when it is necessary, leaves a wound that is not easily healed.

—

As I read through Jeremiah 3 this morning it struck me that the imagery that is used is one of a Father and children who have been estranged. There is a clear desire on both of their parts to reunite. Yet, the wound is so severe that there seems to be little hope.

This line, “I'm committed in love to you,” is a beacon of hope in an otherwise painful and horrific passage of Scripture.

There is no desire on God's part to punish. The desire is for restoration. The desire is for healing.

Why?

Because God is committed in love.

There's a section in verse 19 where God talks about how God has planned what God would say if the people came back. It demonstrates this desire for re-connection.

If my children and I were estranged, I think that I would feel exactly the same way.

—

The question I'm wrestling with today is this, “How does it make me feel to know that God is committed in love to me?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 25, 2023

Wed, 25 Oct 2023 10:10:59 -0400

Jeremiah 2:29-37

“Day after day after day they never give me a thought.”

Typically when our family starts out on a road trip we say a prayer. We pray that God would get us to where we are going safely. We genuinely pray. We are earnest. There is a desire on our part to entrust the drive to God and we want to arrive safely.

As far as I can tell God has answered every one of these prayers by getting us to and fro safely.

I can only think of twice when we thanked God for getting us there safely. Both times were when we experienced really bad weather. The times that the trips were uneventful, I don't think we acknowledged God's hand at all.

—

When we are going through difficult seasons we often wonder, “where is God?” One of the writers of the psalms cries out to God asking God to “wake up!” When things are going bad we think about God all the time.

It's odd, when things are going pretty well we don't think about God much at all.

—

In Jeremiah 2:29-37 God calls out the people for not ever giving God a thought.

I find that strange because the people were practicing Temple worship. They were making sacrifices and celebrating the feasts. They were hearing the scrolls read. God-talk was everywhere and all the time.

Yet, God says, that they never thought about God.

As a pastor I use a lot of God-talk, all the time. I read the Scriptures. I pray the prayers. I preach the sermons.

But do I think about God?

Perhaps what God is saying here is not some sort of intellectual exercise regarding God but is talking about the way that I think about those people in my life whom I love.

I think about my wife and kids a lot. I wonder what they're doing right now? Are they having fun? What kinds of conversations are they having? I am *intrigued by the lives of those I love.

The question I'm wrestling with today is, “Am I intrigued by the life of God?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 24, 2023

Tue, 24 Oct 2023 07:29:24 -0400

Jeremiah 2:20-28

“How do you account for what is written in the desert dust...”

I had a dentist appointment yesterday. I despise going to the dentist. Every time they take my blood pressure and every time it's just above normal. They always ask if that's normal. My response, “only when I'm here.”

As a child my experience with the dentist was not very good. I suppose that's true of just about every Gen X kid. Our dentists were more akin to the dentist played by Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors than they were some kind person. So, I'm pretty sure that I have some deep-seated embodied dentist trauma that shows itself in my blood pressure at that god-forsaken place.

Whenever you go to the dentist they ask, “Are your teeth bothering you? Are you brushing? Are you flossing?”

I answer honestly, “No, they are fine. Yes I brush. I try to floss regularly but it's a habit I haven't developed yet.”

This time the dentist said, “Well, at least you're honest. You'd be surprised how many people try to lie about it.”

There's no point in lying about flossing. You can't hide whether or not you're doing it. The evidence is clear as the teeth in your mouth.

—

It strikes me this morning that the same is true in our relationship with God. This passage from Jeremiah is a hard read. The people of God are being chastised for following after the fertility deities of other nations. The language is, let's say, discomforting, at best.

Yet, there's this line, “How do you account for what is written in the desert dust...”

The people tried to lie about their pursuit of these foreign Gods but God says that there's no point because the evidence is written in the dust. Their tracks to and fro are obvious.

—

Our lives demonstrate what we are most focused on. We can hide or fake for a time but soon enough the truth will come out. Eventually everyone will see our tracks in the desert dust.

I'm wrestling with this question today, “What tracks am I leaving in the desert dust?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 23, 2023

Mon, 23 Oct 2023 09:08:38 -0400

Jeremiah 2:4-19

“But my people have traded my Glory for empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes.”

It was the late nineties and I was working hard at raising support to join the staff of a campus ministry. This particular man that I was connecting with took me to a gathering of people from his church to introduce me to them. As we were driving he was explaining to me that the day of small churches was over. He said that little churches would soon be swallowed up by the biggest churches in the area because the large churches had power and resources that small churches could only dream about.

It's more than twenty years later and it turns out that his prediction was wrong.

For a while, I thought that he was perhaps correct. But, then the mega-church paradigm began to implode. Scandal after scandal. Pastor after pastor has fallen.

Small churches are not immune from this either.

As I read about colleagues falling and ministries breaking down it appears to me that there is a common thread. Jeremiah might call it “empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes.”

The American church has entangled itself with power and consumerism. In so doing it has sold its soul, in a sense, to a modern day Baal.

As a pastor there is a constant and never ending pull towards bigger and better. I feel it in my soul. It's an illness.

But then I read about what has happened in the past when the people of God have sold their souls for empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes and I am reminded that I don't need to trust anything else. I can rest in the goodness of God. As Paul says in his farewell to the Ephesian Elders God is incredibly and extravagantly generous.

The question I will be meditating on today is this, “Will I scheme for success or will I rest in God's grace?”

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 21:1-16 // It’s in God’s Hands Now

Sun, 22 Oct 2023 16:45:32 -0400

We explore what happens when you follow your calling.

October 20, 2023

Fri, 20 Oct 2023 10:34:29 -0400

Jeremiah 2:1-3

“I remember your youthful loyalty, our love as newlyweds.”

We road trip pretty much everywhere. Mostly because we like having our car available to us wherever it is we go. But, also because we are pretty cheap and renting a car is ridiculously expensive.

There is a pattern to our long road trips. We begin with great enthusiasm. There are abundant snacks, everyone is fresh, and everyone is excited to get to where we are going. About two hours in it gets quiet. Then at about four hours the grumbling begins from the driver's seat. Then legs start getting stiff. The snacks don't sound good. Everyone is bored. Everyone is beginning to think, “Flying would have been better.”

But, then we get to the destination!

When we arrive the joy is palpable! Not only to get out of the car but the hope for fun and relaxation.

I think that the spiritual journey is similar. When we get started in our spiritual lives there is joy and exuberance. It's almost like being a newlywed.

But, like any journey it gets long and difficult.

The fun wears out. It's not exciting any longer. It's just a long slog. There's no end in sight.

What do we do? How do we respond? Will we stick to God?

The question that I'm going to be pondering today, “What do I need to do to continually find refreshment in my spiritual journey?”

— Discuss...

—

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October 19, 2023

Thu, 19 Oct 2023 08:02:17 -0400

Jeremiah 1:11-19

“And God said, 'Good eyes! I'm sticking with you...'”

This passage is not what I would call comforting. God is telling Jeremiah what his message is going to be and that he needs to stand firm in speaking this message. The message is going to be hard. This is part of the pulling up and tearing down that was described to him earlier in his conversation with God.

I have to imagine that Jeremiah probably felt his stomach hurt a little bit.

As I was thinking about this passage memories of difficult conversations ran through my head. Conversations that I knew I needed to have but sure didn't want to have. I always get really nervous before those meetings. I can feel it in my body. My heart beats a little faster, my palms sweat a bit, it's a palpable anxiety.

I can't even begin to imagine the feeling that Jeremiah must have had.

But, then he hears from God, “I'm sticking with you.”

This idea of the God-With-Me-God is pervasive throughout Jeremiah's story and it starts right here.

God-With-Me-God, I think has to be one of the most encouraging ideas to come out of the story of the Bible.

When Jesus enters the scene he is called, Emmanuel, God-with-us.

As I consider the differences between the Old and New Testaments that is one of the significant shifts that I notice, the move from me to us after God-With. The story of the Old Testament is marked by an understanding of the God-With-Me-God and the story of the New Testament is marked by an understanding of the God-With-Us-God. God is not different. But in the New Testament we begin to understand that God is most fully known in community.

I am pondering this question today, “Do I believe that as I draw near to others, I am in effect, drawing near to God?”

— Discuss...

—

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How Do You Read the Bible?

Wed, 18 Oct 2023 15:28:26 -0400

A simple practice to help you grow in your faith.

When you open the Bible do you feel intimidated? I know I do.

You read that right, the professional Christian with a graduate degree that included the study of both Hebrew and Greek is intimidated by the Bible.

How can that be?

It’s simple really. I have seen the Bible used to cause great harm. I am sure that in my years of ministry that I have caused great harm with my interpretations of the Bible. Every single day I see the Bible used and abused as a tool that hurts others. I desperately want to avoid doing that. I also find many parts of the Bible confusing and hard to understand. That’s part of the reason that I loved pursuing my divinity degree. This gave me loads of tools to get behind the text of the Bible to try and untangle the sticky wickets of the text. I also get to spend inordinate amounts of time reading research about the Bible, which I find really helpful.

If I’m intimidated, I can only imagine the level of intimidation that many of you might experience. This is particularly true if we take the Bible seriously.

Most people can’t pursue an advanced degree, nor do they need to.

–

For the vast majority of the history of Christianity people didn’t even have personal access to a Bible text. They heard it in bits and pieces shared in the communal setting of the gatherings of believers. When we experience the Bible this way, there will be certain things that stick in our minds because they resonate with us. Other things will not be remembered.

It really wasn’t until the creation fo the printing press that the idea of a personal Bible even became feasible.

Now, we find copies of the Bible in drawers of hotel night stands. I’d guess most homes have at least one Bible, even if it’s just gathering dust.

–

There’s nothing particular special about the Bible, per se.

It’s a book.

It’s not magical.

It’s a collection of writings of Hebrew and early Christian believers.

It is beautiful, ugly, challenging, and inspirational.

In particular, it gives us insight into the life of Jesus. Jesus, the one after whom many of us are trying to pattern our lives. Because of this, the Bible is important to our spiritual lives.

–

So, how can we engage with this intimidating text?

Over the long history of the Christian faith there was a manner of reading that became known as “lectio divina” or “divine reading.”

That seems a bit intimidating too. Or at least a bit mystically creepy.

Over the last few years, after reading Eugene Peterson’s book, Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading, I have become convinced that this kind of reading is fundamental to our spiritual lives. I really like the idea of “Spiritual Reading.” I think it is a helpful re-framing for what we need when it comes to approaching the Bible.

This is not studying. This is something altogether different.

Peterson uses the metaphor of a dog with a bone. He compares spiritual reading to the way a dog takes a bone and just enjoys it. Turning over and around and savoring it.

What if we approached the Bible to savor it and turn it over and around? What if, in some sense, we let the Bible read us? What if we sought to intentionally engage the Bible with a sense of wonder and meditation?

–

Peterson describes the process as stop, read, ponder, pray, reflect, live.

When I sit down to practice my reading of Scripture this is the process that I use.

Stop: Before beginning I pray and ask God to meet me through the reading of the Scripture.

Read: I read and re-read the passage that I’m engaging with. So, it’s not typically very long.

Ponder: I reflect and think or meditate on the things that “jumped” off the page to me. Why did they jump out to me? How did they make me feel? What do I like? What don’t I like?

Pray: Often the time of pondering or meditation leads me to prayer. This is a time when I am responding to what I think God might be communicating through the text. Many times, I just stop and am quiet and allow the text to run around in my head and spirit.

Reflect: Meditating more on what is being surfaced in me. Typically this is ends up being a question that I am going to continue meditate on throughout the day or until the next time I read the Scriptures.

Live: I want to be attentive to how this needs to play out in my day to day life. How do I move forward by applying this to my life?

–

This process has been helpful for me. It has made the Bible less intimidating because I have a plan of how enter into the reading of the Scriptures. It moves it from an intellectual exercise into something of the heart and the spirit.

I would encourage you to give this a try. Perhaps with Psalm 19 or Matthew 5:1-12.

What do you think? Does this sound doable? Do you think this might be helpful to you?

How Do You Read the Bible?

Wed, 18 Oct 2023 15:28:26 -0400

A simple practice to help you grow in your faith.

When you open the Bible do you feel intimidated? I know I do.

You read that right, the professional Christian with a graduate degree that included the study of both Hebrew and Greek is intimidated by the Bible.

How can that be?

It's simple really. I have seen the Bible used to cause great harm. I am sure that in my years of ministry that I have caused great harm with my interpretations of the Bible. Every single day I see the Bible used and abused as a tool that hurts others. I desperately want to avoid doing that. I also find many parts of the Bible confusing and hard to understand. That's part of the reason that I loved pursuing my divinity degree. This gave me loads of tools to get behind the text of the Bible to try and untangle the sticky wickets of the text. I also get to spend inordinate amounts of time reading research about the Bible, which I find really helpful.

If I'm intimidated, I can only imagine the level of intimidation that many of you might experience. This is particularly true if we take the Bible seriously.

Most people can't pursue an advanced degree, nor do they need to.

—

For the vast majority of the history of Christianity people didn't even have personal access to a Bible text. They heard it in bits and pieces shared in the communal setting of the gatherings of believers. When we experience the Bible this way, there will be certain things that stick in our minds because they resonate with us. Other things will not be remembered.

It really wasn't until the creation fo the printing press that the idea of a personal Bible even became feasible.

Now, we find copies of the Bible in drawers of hotel night stands. I'd guess most homes have at least one Bible, even if it's just gathering dust.

—

There's nothing particular special about the Bible, per se.

It's a book.

It's not magical.

It's a collection of writings of Hebrew and early Christian believers.

It is beautiful, ugly, challenging, and inspirational.

In particular, it gives us insight into the life of Jesus. Jesus, the one after whom many of us are trying to pattern our lives. Because of this, the Bible is important to our spiritual lives.

—

So, how can we engage with this intimidating text?

Over the long history of the Christian faith there was a manner of reading that became known as “lectio divina” or “divine reading.”

That seems a bit intimidating too. Or at least a bit mystically creepy.

Over the last few years, after reading Eugene Peterson's book, Eat This Book: A Conversation in the Art of Spiritual Reading, I have become convinced that this kind of reading is fundamental to our spiritual lives. I really like the idea of “Spiritual Reading.” I think it is a helpful re-framing for what we need when it comes to approaching the Bible.

This is not studying. This is something altogether different.

Peterson uses the metaphor of a dog with a bone. He compares spiritual reading to the way a dog takes a bone and just enjoys it. Turning over and around and savoring it.

—

Peterson describes the process as stop, read, ponder, pray, reflect, live.

When I sit down to practice my reading of Scripture this is the process that I use.

Stop: Before beginning I pray and ask God to meet me through the reading of the Scripture.

Read: I read and re-read the passage that I'm engaging with. So, it's not typically very long.

Ponder: I reflect and think or meditate on the things that “jumped” off the page to me. Why did they jump out to me? How did they make me feel? What do I like? What don't I like?

Live: I want to be attentive to how this needs to play out in my day to day life. How do I move forward by applying this to my life?

—

I would encourage you to give this a try. Perhaps with Psalm 19 or Matthew 5:1-12.

What do you think? Does this sound doable? Do you think this might be helpful to you?

— Discuss...

—

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October 18, 2023

Wed, 18 Oct 2023 09:03:39 -0400

Jeremiah 1:1-10

“Your job is to pull up and tear down, take apart and demolish, and then start over, building and planting.”

Jeremiah was given a task that nobody wanted. He was called to speak to the people and let them know about the judgment that was coming. There is no wonder that he is known as the weeping prophet.

I look around our day and age and see a lot of would-be Jeremiahs. It seems that many of us think that we have been called to judge and deliver news of exile to people.

It's so easy to pull up. It's so easy to tear down. It's so easy to take apart. It's so easy to demolish.

The negative is easy. All we need is a bit of power and then we can destroy. Destruction becomes addictive. Why? Because we will inevitably find people who rally to us and help us destroy.

Some people just love to watch the world burn.

It's much more difficult to embrace the second half of what Jeremiah was called to, that is, starting over.

I think that's where the weeping comes from.

Starting over, building, and planting demands a holy imagination and a faith to believe that this thing that is begun will find completion. Typically, we don't get to see the fruit.

I am convicted this morning of being too easily caught up in tearing down and not focused enough on the rebuilding.

I am going to be asking myself this question today: “Am I focusing on what is wrong or on what can be done?”

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 20 // The Long Goodbye

Sun, 15 Oct 2023 16:20:41 -0400

Typically the Knee Jerk Devotional is going to be short. There will be a post with an accompanying 3-5 minute podcast episode.

But, to get things started, I thought I'd drop my most recent sermon from Acts 20.

— Discuss...

—

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Acts 20 // The Long Goodbye

Sun, 15 Oct 2023 14:23:09 -0400

We explore Paul’s long goodbye to the Ephesian Elders.

The Journey – Nuts and Bolts

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 17:43:30 -0400

As I see friends who haven’t seen me in a while they are effusive in their praise of physical fitness. Over the last year, my body has transformed. What they can’t see is the transformation that has taken place in my heart, mind, and soul. Those changes are of course nearly impossible to simply see.

As important as the physical fitness has been, it’s these other changes that are more important. They are the changes that will help me to maintain my physical fitness beyond reaching a goal.

The single most common question that I get is, “how did you do it?”

My usual response is, “eat less, move more.” Which in a crude sense, is exactly the answer.

But there’s more to it than that, much more.

What are the nuts and bolts for the change in fitness that I’ve experienced?

The first thing, of which I’ve written about at length, is that my self-perception had to change. I had to love myself enough to pursue fitness. By loving myself I was able to make a decision to choose a fully orbed pursuit of health.

Regarding spiritual fitness, I once again began reading. I know that sounds silly. Reading had fallen from my regular habits. I read only when necessary. But, over the last year I began reading in earnest. Not just reading, but reading books that challenged me spiritually and theologically. I didn’t read fast or to “get through” things but I read and pondered. This included the Scriptures and books written by people that I wanted to learn from.

I know that these aren’t really the nuts and bolts that people are interested in when they ask, “How did you do it?” But, without the inner changes the outward changes would not have been able to happen. We have to deal with the inside so that the outside can be transformed.

What about the nuts and bolts for the physical fitness?

“How did you do it?”

The first step that I took was to identify what was the friction point that inhibited me from pursuing exercise. What I learned was that my key friction point was how long it would take me to exercise for 45 minutes. My gym was about a 20 minute drive. So, 40 minutes round trip, plus 45 minutes to exercise, plus another 20 minutes to shower and dress. In other words, it took two hours to exercise for 45 minutes. I don’t know about you, but I’m not typically able to carve out two hours from my day.

When I learned this, I started a 15 minutes per day walking commitment. My thought was that I could do anything for 15 minutes. Indeed I could and I did for over a year. This got me moving. Once I started moving, I kept moving.

I realized that I wasn’t losing any weight and my body was not changing. I had to change what was going into my body. I spent about six months controlling for carbohydrates. I ate less than 25g per day. This started my weight loss.

After six months I hit a plateau at about 30lbs lost. One of the trainers at my new gym (it is 7 minutes from my house!) told me about something called Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR). This is the number of calories your body burns just by living. He shared with me about the need to be in a calorie deficit to lose weight long term. We talked through the role of macronutrients, carbohydrates, fats, and proteins. The plan was to maintain muscle while losing weight. To do this I followed a simple plan.

Eating: I targeted approximately 2000 calories per day with 100g protein as the bulk of those calories. This target was based on my BMR. I used this calculator to determine my calorie goal: BMR Calculator. I ate a lot of chicken, salmon, turkey, cruciferous vegetables, and green leafy vegetables.

Tracking: I used an app called Carb Manager. Its free version allowed me to track calories and macronutrients. The premium version I purchased to get finer control. For about a year I tracked almost everything that I ate and drank. This helped me to understand what foods were costing me in terms of calories. It was surprising to see how many calories were in things like dressings and sauces. Tracking is critical because it keeps you honest.

Exercising: I began lifting weights three days a week and I used an app called, FitBod. It uses AI to construct workouts. There are gifs that show you how to do the lifts and it tracks all the weights that I lift. It’s like having a personal trainer in my phone. I also walked for at least 30 minutes, at least twice a week.

That’s it. That’s the nuts and bolts.

That’s how I did it.

What questions do you have? What other information do you want? How can I help you on your journey?

The Journey – Perseverance Over Perfection

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 17:42:38 -0400

What if we valued perseverance over being perfect?

Sophia was walking through the forest with her friend Avil. As they were walking and talking she stubbed her toe on a root that had broken through the path. She stumbled and exclaimed her shock and surprise. She regained her footing and they continued walking.

A little bit later, Avil stubbed his toe as well. He cried out and then found another root and stubbed his other toe. When he did, he tripped and skinned his knee. He was distraught and threw himself down the side of a hill where he broke his leg. As rolled down the hill he also skinned his knee. So, he took a rock and broke his other arm.

It didn’t take long before Sophia realized that the walk was over.

—

This parable is ridiculous! Avil (the Hebrew word for fool) is beyond foolish. Nobody would ever stub their toe and then go on to break their leg. Not to mention all the other ridiculous responses he made. Most of us likely see ourselves in Sophia, she stubs her toe and then continues on. That just makes sense, right?

Here’s the crazy thing, if I’m honest, Avil is a reflection of me.

Over the years I’ve tried all kinds of things to lose weight and to pursue physical health.

Without fail, I’ve fallen short of my “plan.” When I did, I would throw my hands up and say, “Well, I blew it. Might as well enjoy it!” So what would I do? I’d get the famous number two from McDonald’s, (two cheeseburgers, large fry, and a Coke) or I’d get a large pizza. I mean, why not? I have messed up the diet anyway.

You see, when it came to pursuing physical health my mindset has been, “perfection or nothing.” If I couldn’t be perfect, I might as well just indulge.

There was no in between.

All or nothing.

I can trace this all or nothing approach through my pursuit of emotional health, spiritual health, and relational health too.

Health has always been a goal, a pursuit, something that I sought to attain. So, if I wasn’t perfect then I was a failure. If I failed, then why press on?

I was all about perfection over perseverance.

—

The Apostle Paul wrote, “I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back. (Philippians 3:12-14, The Message)”

Paul was someone who was aware of the reality that life isn’t a zero sum game. Inherent in what he writes here is the reality that life is a process. Becoming mature in his faith was not something that he was necessarily going to succeed at. It was a journey that he was on.

Notice also, that there was failure baked into what Paul said. Paul seems to be saying, “I fail too! I fall short too! But I press on!”

Perseverance is more important than perfection.

—

I will never be perfect. I will never have a perfect streak of eating well or exercising or being a good friend or being emotionally fit. But, instead of quitting I need to embrace the way of Sophia and recover my footing and keep hiking.

Something that I think that has been an important lesson is to learn the subtle shift from thinking about health to thinking about fitness.

Mental fitness.
Physical fitness.
Spiritual fitness.
Emotional fitness.
Relational fitness.

Fitness doesn’t have an end. It’s a goal to strive toward but you never really attain it. You never arrive at the end of fitness. So, you keep on pressing on. Straining toward the goal.

No turning back!

If the journey is the goal and the goal is the journey then all we really have is perseverance.

Perfection is not something that we will ever find. If not being perfect derails the journey then I will never be able to move forward.

Because I am on a journey that has no end there is only the option of pressing on. Getting a little better each day. Even when there’s a step backward it’s not the end. I can regain my footing like Sophia and keep walking.

Perseverance over perfection.

The Journey – The Unseen

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 17:41:47 -0400

What do we do when the goal is unseen?

It was Thanksgiving and we were heading to my brother Jay’s home outside Baltimore, Maryland. We were excited to spend time with his family and celebrate together. As we drove the weather grew worse and worse.

The snow and sleet were becoming overwhelming. Cars were pulling off and sliding off the road at an alarming rate. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than I knew I could. White knuckling was an understatement. I grew more and more tired. Tensions were rising in the car. I knew that Amy wouldn’t be comfortable getting behind the wheel and so I drove on.

This journey was not going well.

I desperately wanted to stop and sleep. Amy was desperately trying to find a hotel room.

The “good” hotels were all booked up with other travelers hiding from the storm.

We drove on.

We made it to Jay’s house.

Had we known how the journey would have played out, we might not have left. But, the hope of the joy of seeing my brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, and mom was more than enough to keep us going.

We couldn’t see, quite literally, our destination, yet there was hope of the joyful reunion that kept us going. The perseverance paid off! The joy was made that much more sweeter after the difficulty of the journey.

—

“So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18, The Message)”

—

At the beginning of any journey you can’t see the end. You can try to picture it in your mind’s eye but you don’t see it. You have to start out and just go. You hope that the going will be smooth and easy. You hope that there will not be any bad weather or traffic jams or delayed flights. But, at the end of the day, you just don’t know what the journey will be like nor can you see the destination.

Every journey demands faith.

Paul Tillich wrote, “Faith is an act of a finite being who is grasped by, and turned to, the infinite.”

I’m realizing that this is exactly what has been at the center of my journey toward fitness. It is a journey of the finite being grasped by the infinite.

You see, there’s no end to the pursuit of fitness. It’s an ongoing journey with various stops along the way.

—

I am struck by something that the Apostle Paul says in that quote from 2 Corinthians, “The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.”

As I consider what is going on in my fitness journey, this really is the heart of the matter. It’s not about a particular number on the scale or the size of my waist. No, those things are here today and gone tomorrow. It’s truly about the pursuit of fitness. A pursuit of something that will last forever.

Being strong, feeling good, having energy, loving well. These are the things that the journey brings about.

So I journey on.

I am believing by faith that the journey will help me become fully myself.

We can’t truly see the end when we begin, but stepping out in faith on the journey opens the door to joy.

The Journey – The Crew

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 17:38:18 -0400

We aren’t made to walk the path alone.

I began my journey toward physical fitness with a commitment to walk fifteen minutes per day. My thinking was that I could do anything for fifteen minutes. I was right. Rarely did I walk for less than twenty minutes. Almost always, I walked at least thirty.

I had, in my excitement over such a plan, decided to invite some close friends to hold me accountable. My walk needed to be done by 10 pm or they were free to give me all the grief!

At some point in my walking, I pulled a muscle. I could barely walk. But, I persevered. I can do anything for fifteen minutes.

During that time, it was all I could do to walk around the block. I had a dip in the hip but absolutely no glide in the stride. One evening, I had decided that after mowing the lawn I had had enough for the day.

I then made a fatal mistake. I told my close friends that I was counting the mowing as my walk.

In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, “Big mistake, huge, BIG!”

“You made a commitment to walk. Your commitment was not to mow.”

I raged.
I argued.
I walked.

Never in my life had I been actually held accountable to anything.

These friends loved me enough to hold me accountable to the commitment I had made. I really didn’t like them when they did. Yet, they held their ground and pushed me to walk. They wanted me to succeed. In that moment they wanted me to hold to my commitment more than I did.

I walked!

—

There is a passage in the ancient text that goes like this,

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-3)”

This is written right after the writer lists out a number of people who had lived and died in faith. They were the “who’s who” of the Old Testament. These people persevered in their faith and made up the “great cloud of witnesses,” along with countless others.

It is interesting to me that when he writes about persevering through the race he sets the call in the context of a “great cloud of witnesses.”

The community of faith, the cloud of witnesses, were the context from which the author calls people to press on and persevere.

—

We are not made to be alone. It is not good for us to be alone. We need community. We need a cloud of witnesses.

In my pursuit of fitness (physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, and relational) I have become keenly aware of my need for a cloud of witnesses. This cloud of witnesses I call my “crew.” These are the people that I have learned to trust with all of who I am. I have invited them into my life and given them the go ahead to hold me accountable.

When I don’t want to persevere, I reach out to these people and they encourage me to walk on.

A community of people who are truly involved in your life will eventually make you very angry because they will not let you get away with quitting. To quit, to stop walking, is the one thing that is unacceptable to them. This crew of mine reminds me of my commitments, to be sure, but more than that, they remind me of who I am and who I want to be.

My identity is not shaped in isolation. It is shaped in community. My crew reminds me of who I am and these reminders give me the hope to carry on.

The journey towards fitness necessitates a crew of people who walk with you.

Who is your crew? Will they ensure that you walk on?

—

*And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring
And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can’t leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it’s a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on
What you got they can’t steal it
No, they can’t even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight* – U2

The Journey – Start With “Why?”

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 17:35:38 -0400

Answering one question can start the journey.

I recently shared a before and after picture one year apart on my social feeds. It sparked congratulations and a lot of kind words. Over the last eighteen months I have lost over 100 lbs. My entire body has changed. I see old pictures and it doesn’t even seem like I’m the same person.

Do you want to know something interesting? When I look in the mirror I don’t really see much change at all. I will catch myself walking past a mirror and think, “wow! I’ve changed!” Then as I continue to look at myself I can almost see my body transform back to the “old me” in the mirror.

It’s weird.

Many of the comments and conversations I have around this journey are about how hard it must be to be on a diet and how hard it is to exercise regularly. Folks are impressed by the consistency and perseverance. Often people want the “playbook.” They want the nuts and bolts about how I got here. I gladly share it with them, but more times than not, their eyes glass over.

The thing is, this really is a journey. It’s my own personal hero journey. There are ups and downs. There are obstacles and pitfalls. There have been big successes and some big failures too.

A number of years ago after my second child, Libby, was born I lost a lot of weight. I wanted to to do it for “the kids.” Life was pretty easy and I dropped the weight.

A few years later, life got stressful. I gained all the weight back and kept it on for almost twenty years.

There were diets here and there and I lost some weight and I gained it back.

But, then something changed.

—

Over the last ten years I have become obsessed with trying to wrap my head and heart around two ideas. These two ideas are things that I come back to over and over again. I feel like they are all I talk about and think about.

Love and grace.

I suppose it shouldn’t be all that surprising that a pastor thinks about love and grace (well, these days with the state of American Christianity perhaps it is). For the longest time I was more interested in truth and righteousness.

I wanted to be right. I knew I had the truth. More than anything I wanted people to embrace the truth and see that I was right so that they would be able to know what I knew. You could say, I was a bit of tool, and you’d be right. I was arrogant and self-consumed. I was not all that kind.

In the background of all that there was a nagging question, “What’s so amazing about grace?” It had been posited to me by my friend and mentor, Bob. This question just floated around in the background like a little soundtrack that I tried to ignore.

Over the last ten years that question wouldn’t remain in the background. It exploded into the foreground and with it came the question, “What is unconditional love?”

—

“What does any of this have to do with a journey toward losing weight?”

Great question.

In some ways it doesn’t have anything to do with it and at the same time it has everything to do with it.

My journey hasn’t been a journey of weight loss. My journey, my hero journey, has been a journey of health. Physical health is but one aspect. And, it’s almost the least important aspect of the journey! It’s a consequence of a pursuit of love and grace. As I pursued these things I started becoming more aware of my need to be a healthy person. This meant a healthy spirituality, healthy emotionally, and healthy relationally along with the physical.

I titled this, Start with “Why?”, because when I finally got rolling on my journey it was when I had finally come to the realization that I loved me.

I loved me enough to exercise.
I loved me enough to change my eating habits.
I loved me enough to be intentional about relationships.
I loved me enough to doggedly pursue my spiritual life.

As I set out on this journey eighteen months ago it was not for my wife or for my children. It was not to get healthy.

I took the first step on the journey because I had finally come to the place where I loved me.

—

I had to confront my lack of love for myself.

Jesus said, “Love your neighbors as yourself”. It struck me that love of neighbor was limited by my ability to love myself. How I treated myself was in some way a reflection of how I loved my neighbor. I was becoming obsessed with the idea of “loving well”, which for me is the incorporation of love and grace. But, to really do that, to truly and thoroughly love well, I had to love me.

I’m convinced that the first step in the journey toward health has to start with, “Why?”

I am also convinced that if the why doesn’t include “because I love me” then the journey is likely derailed from the beginning. The journey toward health (spiritual, relational, emotional, physical) is the hardest thing that I’ve entered into. If it wasn’t rooted in love, I don’t think I would have continued.

Because the journey is rooted in love, grace is always nipping at the heels. Grace frees me from legalism. Grace in the midst of perseverance opens the door to stumble and fall and get back up knowing that I’m still embraced and accepted.

—

“How did you do it?”

Love and grace my friend, love and grace.

The Journey – Who Am I?

Thu, 12 Oct 2023 16:47:20 -0400

A couple of years ago I read a book called Atomic Habits by James Clear. He tells the story of a friend who went on a weight loss journey. To begin this journey his friend started a habit of going to the gym. At this point you might be thinking, “Well, of course he did.” But here’s the kicker, he never went in. Every day he drove to the gym and parked in the parking lot.

What a strange thing to do, I thought. It surely didn’t make any sense to me when I initially read it. I stopped and pondered why would he do something so strange before continuing to read. I wanted to try and figure it out. For the life of me, I couldn’t. It just didn’t make any sense.

Eventually, as you would expect, his friend began going into the gym. But, he didn’t work out. He just went in. Then, he started exercising but only did one set of one movement. Then he left. But, then he started working out regularly and changed his physical state of health.

What was happening in this story?

This man was changing his identity.

When he started his journey he was not someone who exercised. To become someone who exercised he needed to become someone who went to the gym. He wasn’t that guy either. He had to become a person who went tot he gym before he could become a person who exercised. So, at the most basic of levels he became a person who went to the gym.

This story deeply resonated with me.

I had begun figuring out my why. I was beginning to learn what it meant to love me. But, there was a second question that I needed to wrestle with, “Who am I?”

What kind of person am I?

I began to work through a series of “I am…” statements related to health.

I am a spiritually healthy person. What does this mean? What does a spiritually healthy person look like? What kinds of practices does a spiritually healthy person have in their lives?

I am a relationally healthy person. What does a relationally healthy person look like? What kinds of relationships do they have? How do they orient their time? What kinds of boundaries does this person have?

I am an emotionally healthy person. What does this look like? How do I lean into working on emotional health? Are there signs of not being emotionally healthy that need to be addressed?

I am a physically healthy person. What kind of person is physically healthy? What is true of this person? What practices are in place for a person to by physically healthy?

Notice that these were statements followed by questions. They were not questions followed by more questions. I began to change the way I thought of myself.

I am…

As my self-identity began to change things became easier and easier.

When I went out to dinner I would look at the menu and ask myself, “What would a physically healthy person order here?” Then I would order that because I am a physically healthy person.

Self-identifying as a “physically healthy person” also helped getting physically active much easier. On the many mornings that I don’t want to hit the gym I think to myself, “A physically healthy person goes to the gym. I am a physically healthy person, so I will go to the gym.”

As I grow in my new self-identity as a healthy person (spiritually, reltionally, emotionally, and physically) I find making decisions to be easier. I am also finding that there are other things that are beginning to happen. For instance, part of my new identity is that I’m a person who goes to they gym three days a week and lifts weights. That’s who I am now.

In the past, I was a person who was on a diet.

Diets are something that end.

As a person on a diet I would eventually become a person not on a diet. This meant that when I wasn’t on a diet I would typically revert to old habits and undo much of what was done on the diet.

I am a person who is healthy. This never stops. It’s a new way to of being. This way of being lasts beyond reaching any particular goal.

Pursuing a way of being is not goal driven. It is journey driven.

Who am I?

That’s the question that shapes the journey.

The Journey - Nuts and Bolts

Wed, 11 Oct 2023 14:37:52 -0400

As important as the physical fitness has been, it’s these other changes that are more important. They are the changes that will help me to maintain my physical fitness beyond reaching a goal.

The single most common question that I get is, “how did you do it?”

My usual response is, “eat less, move more.” Which in a crude sense, is exactly the answer.

But there’s more to it than that, much more.

What are the nuts and bolts for the change in fitness that I’ve experienced?

What about the nuts and bolts for the physical fitness?

“How did you do it?”

That’s it. That’s the nuts and bolts.

That’s how I did it.

What questions do you have? What other information do you want? How can I help you on your journey?

The Journey - Nuts and Bolts

Wed, 11 Oct 2023 14:37:52 -0400

As important as the physical fitness has been, it’s these other changes that are more important. They are the changes that will help me to maintain my physical fitness beyond reaching a goal.

The single most common question that I get is, “how did you do it?”

My usual response is, “eat less, move more.” Which in a crude sense, is exactly the answer.

But there’s more to it than that, much more.

What are the nuts and bolts for the change in fitness that I’ve experienced?

What about the nuts and bolts for the physical fitness?

“How did you do it?”

That’s it. That’s the nuts and bolts.

That’s how I did it.

What questions do you have? What other information do you want? How can I help you on your journey?

Acts 19:21-41 // Golden Calves and Sacred Cows

Mon, 09 Oct 2023 12:24:44 -0400

We explore together the issues that take place when the gospel begins to touch on our golden calves and sacred cows.

The Journey - The Unseen

Wed, 04 Oct 2023 10:40:01 -0400

What do we do when the goal is unseen?

It was Thanksgiving and we were heading to my brother Jay's home outside Baltimore, Maryland. We were excited to spend time with his family and celebrate together. As we drove the weather grew worse and worse.

The snow and sleet were becoming overwhelming. Cars were pulling off and sliding off the road at an alarming rate. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than I knew I could. White knuckling was an understatement. I grew more and more tired. Tensions were rising in the car. I knew that Amy wouldn't be comfortable getting behind the wheel and so I drove on.

This journey was not going well.

I desperately wanted to stop and sleep. Amy was desperately trying to find a hotel room.

The “good” hotels were all booked up with other travelers hiding from the storm.

We drove on.

We made it to Jay's house.

Had we known how the journey would have played out, we might not have left. But, the hope of the joy of seeing my brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, and mom was more than enough to keep us going.

We couldn't see, quite literally, our destination, yet there was hope of the joyful reunion that kept us going. The perseverance paid off! The joy was made that much more sweeter after the difficulty of the journey.

—

At the beginning of any journey you can't see the end. You can try to picture it in your mind's eye but you don't see it. You have to start out and just go. You hope that the going will be smooth and easy. You hope that there will not be any bad weather or traffic jams or delayed flights. But, at the end of the day, you just don't know what the journey will be like nor can you see the destination.

Every journey demands faith.

Paul Tillich wrote, “Faith is an act of a finite being who is grasped by, and turned to, the infinite.”

I'm realizing that this is exactly what has been at the center of my journey toward fitness. It is a journey of the finite being grasped by the infinite.

You see, there's no end to the pursuit of fitness. It's an ongoing journey with various stops along the way.

—

I am struck by something that the Apostle Paul says in that quote from 2 Corinthians, “The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever.”

As I consider what is going on in my fitness journey, this really is the heart of the matter. It's not about a particular number on the scale or the size of my waist. No, those things are here today and gone tomorrow. It's truly about the pursuit of fitness. A pursuit of something that will last forever.

Being strong, feeling good, having energy, loving well. These are the things that the journey brings about.

So I journey on.

I am believing by faith that the journey will help me become fully myself.

We can't truly see the end when we begin, but stepping out in faith on the journey opens the door to joy.

The Journey - The Unseen

Wed, 04 Oct 2023 10:40:01 -0400

What do we do when the goal is unseen?

The snow and sleet were becoming overwhelming. Cars were pulling off and sliding off the road at an alarming rate. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than I knew I could. White knuckling was an understatement. I grew more and more tired. Tensions were rising in the car. I knew that Amy wouldn't be comfortable getting behind the wheel and so I drove on.

This journey was not going well.

I desperately wanted to stop and sleep. Amy was desperately trying to find a hotel room.

The “good” hotels were all booked up with other travelers hiding from the storm.

We drove on.

We made it to Jay's house.

Had we known how the journey would have played out, we might not have left. But, the hope of the joy of seeing my brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, and mom was more than enough to keep us going.

—

Every journey demands faith.

Paul Tillich wrote, “Faith is an act of a finite being who is grasped by, and turned to, the infinite.”

I'm realizing that this is exactly what has been at the center of my journey toward fitness. It is a journey of the finite being grasped by the infinite.

You see, there's no end to the pursuit of fitness. It's an ongoing journey with various stops along the way.

—

I am struck by something that the Apostle Paul says in that quote from 2 Corinthians, “The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever.”

Being strong, feeling good, having energy, loving well. These are the things that the journey brings about.

So I journey on.

I am believing by faith that the journey will help me become fully myself.

We can't truly see the end when we begin, but stepping out in faith on the journey opens the door to joy.

The Journey - The Crew

Wed, 27 Sep 2023 14:17:40 -0400

We aren't made to walk the path alone.

I had, in my excitement over such a plan, decided to invite some close friends to hold me accountable. My walk needed to be done by 10 pm or they were free to give me all the grief!

At some point in my walking, I pulled a muscle. I could barely walk. But, I persevered. I can do anything for fifteen minutes.

I then made a fatal mistake. I told my close friends that I was counting the mowing as my walk.

In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, “Big mistake, huge, BIG!”

“You made a commitment to walk. Your commitment was not to mow.”

I raged. I argued. I walked.

Never in my life had I been actually held accountable to anything.

These friends loved me enough to hold me accountable to the commitment I had made. I really didn't like them when they did. Yet, they held their ground and pushed me to walk. They wanted me to succeed. In that moment they wanted me to hold to my commitment more than I did.

I walked!

—

There is a passage in the ancient text that goes like this,

This is written right after the writer lists out a number of people who had lived and died in faith. They were the “who's who” of the Old Testament. These people persevered in their faith and made up the “great cloud of witnesses,” along with countless others.

It is interesting to me that when he writes about persevering through the race he sets the call in the context of a “great cloud of witnesses.”

The community of faith, the cloud of witnesses, were the context from which the author calls people to press on and persevere.

—

We are not made to be alone. It is not good for us to be alone. We need community. We need a cloud of witnesses.

When I don't want to persevere, I reach out to these people and they encourage me to walk on.

My identity is not shaped in isolation. It is shaped in community. My crew reminds me of who I am and these reminders give me the hope to carry on.

The journey towards fitness necessitates a crew of people who walk with you.

Who is your crew? Will they ensure that you walk on?

—

*And love is not the easy thing The only baggage that you can bring And love is not the easy thing The only baggage you can bring Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off And if your glass heart should crack And for a second you turn back Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on What you got they can't steal it No, they can't even feel it Walk on, walk on Stay safe tonight* – U2

The Journey - The Crew

Wed, 27 Sep 2023 14:17:40 -0400

We aren't made to walk the path alone.

I had, in my excitement over such a plan, decided to invite some close friends to hold me accountable. My walk needed to be done by 10 pm or they were free to give me all the grief!

At some point in my walking, I pulled a muscle. I could barely walk. But, I persevered. I can do anything for fifteen minutes.

I then made a fatal mistake. I told my close friends that I was counting the mowing as my walk.

In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, “Big mistake, huge, BIG!”

“You made a commitment to walk. Your commitment was not to mow.”

I raged. I argued. I walked.

Never in my life had I been actually held accountable to anything.

I walked!

—

There is a passage in the ancient text that goes like this,

It is interesting to me that when he writes about persevering through the race he sets the call in the context of a “great cloud of witnesses.”

The community of faith, the cloud of witnesses, were the context from which the author calls people to press on and persevere.

—

We are not made to be alone. It is not good for us to be alone. We need community. We need a cloud of witnesses.

When I don't want to persevere, I reach out to these people and they encourage me to walk on.

My identity is not shaped in isolation. It is shaped in community. My crew reminds me of who I am and these reminders give me the hope to carry on.

The journey towards fitness necessitates a crew of people who walk with you.

Who is your crew? Will they ensure that you walk on?

—

*And love is not the easy thing The only baggage that you can bring And love is not the easy thing The only baggage you can bring Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off And if your glass heart should crack And for a second you turn back Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on What you got they can't steal it No, they can't even feel it Walk on, walk on Stay safe tonight* – U2

The Journey - Perseverance Over Perfection

Tue, 19 Sep 2023 21:28:20 -0400

What if we valued perseverance over being perfect?

It didn't take long before Sophia realized that the walk was over.

—

Here's the crazy thing, if I'm honest, Avil is a reflection of me.

Over the years I've tried all kinds of things to lose weight and to pursue physical health.

Without fail, I've fallen short of my “plan.” When I did, I would throw my hands up and say, “Well, I blew it. Might as well enjoy it!” So what would I do? I'd get the famous number two from McDonald's, (two cheeseburgers, large fry, and a Coke) or I'd get a large pizza. I mean, why not? I have messed up the diet anyway.

You see, when it came to pursuing physical health my mindset has been, “perfection or nothing.” If I couldn't be perfect, I might as well just indulge.

There was no in between.

All or nothing.

I can trace this all or nothing approach through my pursuit of emotional health, spiritual health, and relational health too.

Health has always been a goal, a pursuit, something that I sought to attain. So, if I wasn't perfect then I was a failure. If I failed, then why press on?

I was all about perfection over perseverance.

—

Paul was someone who was aware of the reality that life isn't a zero sum game. Inherent in what he writes here is the reality that life is a process. Becoming mature in his faith was not something that he was necessarily going to succeed at. It was a journey that he was on.

Notice also, that there was failure baked into what Paul said. Paul seems to be saying, “I fail too! I fall short too! But I press on!”

Perseverance is more important than perfection.

—

Something that I think that has been an important lesson is to learn the subtle shift from thinking about health to thinking about fitness.

Mental fitness. Physical fitness. Spiritual fitness. Emotional fitness. Relational fitness.

Fitness doesn't have an end. It's a goal to strive toward but you never really attain it. You never arrive at the end of fitness. So, you keep on pressing on. Straining toward the goal.

No turning back!

If the journey is the goal and the goal is the journey then all we really have is perseverance.

Perfection is not something that we will ever find. If not being perfect derails the journey then I will never be able to move forward.

Because I am on a journey that has no end there is only the option of pressing on. Getting a little better each day. Even when there's a step backward it's not the end. I can regain my footing like Sophia and keep walking.

Perseverance over perfection.

The Journey - Perseverance Over Perfection

Tue, 19 Sep 2023 21:28:20 -0400

What if we valued perseverance over being perfect?

It didn't take long before Sophia realized that the walk was over.

—

Here's the crazy thing, if I'm honest, Avil is a reflection of me.

Over the years I've tried all kinds of things to lose weight and to pursue physical health.

You see, when it came to pursuing physical health my mindset has been, “perfection or nothing.” If I couldn't be perfect, I might as well just indulge.

There was no in between.

All or nothing.

I can trace this all or nothing approach through my pursuit of emotional health, spiritual health, and relational health too.

Health has always been a goal, a pursuit, something that I sought to attain. So, if I wasn't perfect then I was a failure. If I failed, then why press on?

I was all about perfection over perseverance.

—

Notice also, that there was failure baked into what Paul said. Paul seems to be saying, “I fail too! I fall short too! But I press on!”

Perseverance is more important than perfection.

—

Something that I think that has been an important lesson is to learn the subtle shift from thinking about health to thinking about fitness.

Mental fitness. Physical fitness. Spiritual fitness. Emotional fitness. Relational fitness.

Fitness doesn't have an end. It's a goal to strive toward but you never really attain it. You never arrive at the end of fitness. So, you keep on pressing on. Straining toward the goal.

No turning back!

If the journey is the goal and the goal is the journey then all we really have is perseverance.

Perfection is not something that we will ever find. If not being perfect derails the journey then I will never be able to move forward.

Perseverance over perfection.

The Journey - Who Am I?

Wed, 06 Sep 2023 13:52:42 -0400

Our self identity shapes what we do.

A couple of years ago I read a book called Atomic Habits by James Clear. He tells the story of a friend who went on a weight loss journey. To begin this journey his friend started a habit of going to the gym. At this point you might be thinking, “Well, of course he did.” But here's the kicker, he never went in. Every day he drove to the gym and parked in the parking lot.

What a strange thing to do, I thought. It surely didn't make any sense to me when I initially read it. I stopped and pondered why would he do something so strange before continuing to read. I wanted to try and figure it out. For the life of me, I couldn't. It just didn't make any sense.

Eventually, as you would expect, his friend began going into the gym. But, he didn't work out. He just went in. Then, he started exercising but only did one set of one movement. Then he left. But, then he started working out regularly and changed his physical state of health.

What was happening in this story?

This man was changing his identity.

When he started his journey he was not someone who exercised. To become someone who exercised he needed to become someone who went to the gym. He wasn't that guy either. He had to become a person who went tot he gym before he could become a person who exercised. So, at the most basic of levels he became a person who went to the gym.

This story deeply resonated with me.

I had begun figuring out my why. I was beginning to learn what it meant to love me. But, there was a second question that I needed to wrestle with, “Who am I?”

What kind of person am I?

I began to work through a series of “I am...” statements related to health.

I am a spiritually healthy person. What does this mean? What does a spiritually healthy person look like? What kinds of practices does a spiritually healthy person have in their lives?

I am an emotionally healthy person. What does this look like? How do I lean into working on emotional health? Are there signs of not being emotionally healthy that need to be addressed?

I am a physically healthy person. What kind of person is physically healthy? What is true of this person? What practices are in place for a person to by physically healthy?

Notice that these were statements followed by questions. They were not questions followed by more questions. I began to change the way I thought of myself.

I am...

As my self-identity began to change things became easier and easier.

When I went out to dinner I would look at the menu and ask myself, “What would a physically healthy person order here?” Then I would order that because I am a physically healthy person.

Self-identifying as a “physically healthy person” also helped getting physically active much easier. On the many mornings that I don't want to hit the gym I think to myself, “A physically healthy person goes to the gym. I am a physically healthy person, so I will go to the gym.”

As I grow in my new self-identity as a healthy person (spiritually, reltionally, emotionally, and physically) I find making decisions to be easier. I am also finding that there are other things that are beginning to happen. For instance, part of my new identity is that I'm a person who goes to they gym three days a week and lifts weights. That's who I am now.

In the past, I was a person who was on a diet.

Diets are something that end.

As a person on a diet I would eventually become a person not on a diet. This meant that when I wasn't on a diet I would typically revert to old habits and undo much of what was done on the diet.

I am a person who is healthy. This never stops. It's a new way to of being. This way of being lasts beyond reaching any particular goal.

Pursuing a way of being is not goal driven. It is journey driven.

Who am I?

That's the question that shapes the journey.

The Journey - Who Am I?

Wed, 06 Sep 2023 13:52:42 -0400

Our self identity shapes what we do.

A couple of years ago I read a book called Atomic Habits by James Clear. He tells the story of a friend who went on a weight loss journey. To begin this journey his friend started a habit of going to the gym. At this point you might be thinking, “Well, of course he did.” But here's the kicker, he never went in. Every day he drove to the gym and parked in the parking lot.

What was happening in this story?

This man was changing his identity.

This story deeply resonated with me.

I had begun figuring out my why. I was beginning to learn what it meant to love me. But, there was a second question that I needed to wrestle with, “Who am I?”

What kind of person am I?

I began to work through a series of “I am...” statements related to health.

I am a spiritually healthy person. What does this mean? What does a spiritually healthy person look like? What kinds of practices does a spiritually healthy person have in their lives?

I am an emotionally healthy person. What does this look like? How do I lean into working on emotional health? Are there signs of not being emotionally healthy that need to be addressed?

I am a physically healthy person. What kind of person is physically healthy? What is true of this person? What practices are in place for a person to by physically healthy?

Notice that these were statements followed by questions. They were not questions followed by more questions. I began to change the way I thought of myself.

I am...

As my self-identity began to change things became easier and easier.

When I went out to dinner I would look at the menu and ask myself, “What would a physically healthy person order here?” Then I would order that because I am a physically healthy person.

As I grow in my new self-identity as a healthy person (spiritually, reltionally, emotionally, and physically) I find making decisions to be easier. I am also finding that there are other things that are beginning to happen. For instance, part of my new identity is that I'm a person who goes to they gym three days a week and lifts weights. That's who I am now.

In the past, I was a person who was on a diet.

Diets are something that end.

As a person on a diet I would eventually become a person not on a diet. This meant that when I wasn't on a diet I would typically revert to old habits and undo much of what was done on the diet.

I am a person who is healthy. This never stops. It's a new way to of being. This way of being lasts beyond reaching any particular goal.

Pursuing a way of being is not goal driven. It is journey driven.

Who am I?

That's the question that shapes the journey.

The Journey - Start With "Why?"

Wed, 30 Aug 2023 19:29:55 -0400

Answering one question can start the journey.

Do you want to know something interesting? When I look in the mirror I don't really see much change at all. I will catch myself walking past a mirror and think, “wow! I've changed!” Then as I continue to look at myself I can almost see my body transform back to the “old me” in the mirror.

It's weird.

The thing is, this really is a journey. It's my own personal hero journey. There are ups and downs. There are obstacles and pitfalls. There have been big successes and some big failures too.

A number of years ago after my second child, Libby, was born I lost a lot of weight. I wanted to to do it for “the kids.” Life was pretty easy and I dropped the weight.

A few years later, life got stressful. I gained all the weight back and kept it on for almost twenty years.

There were diets here and there and I lost some weight and I gained it back.

But, then something changed.

—

Love and grace.

I suppose it shouldn't be all that surprising that a pastor thinks about love and grace (well, these days with the state of American Christianity perhaps it is). For the longest time I was more interested in truth and righteousness.

I wanted to be right. I knew I had the truth. More than anything I wanted people to embrace the truth and see that I was right so that they would be able to know what I knew. You could say, I was a bit of tool, and you'd be right. I was arrogant and self-consumed. I was not all that kind.

In the background of all that there was a nagging question, “What's so amazing about grace?” It had been posited to me by my friend and mentor, Bob. This question just floated around in the background like a little soundtrack that I tried to ignore.

Over the last ten years that question wouldn't remain in the background. It exploded into the foreground and with it came the question, “What is unconditional love?”

—

“What does any of this have to do with a journey toward losing weight?”

Great question.

In some ways it doesn't have anything to do with it and at the same time it has everything to do with it.

My journey hasn't been a journey of weight loss. My journey, my hero journey, has been a journey of health. Physical health is but one aspect. And, it's almost the least important aspect of the journey! It's a consequence of a pursuit of love and grace. As I pursued these things I started becoming more aware of my need to be a healthy person. This meant a healthy spirituality, healthy emotionally, and healthy relationally along with the physical.

I titled this, Start with “Why?”, because when I finally got rolling on my journey it was when I had finally come to the realization that I loved me.

I loved me enough to exercise. I loved me enough to change my eating habits. I loved me enough to be intentional about relationships. I loved me enough to doggedly pursue my spiritual life.

As I set out on this journey eighteen months ago it was not for my wife or for my children. It was not to get healthy.

I took the first step on the journey because I had finally come to the place where I loved me.

—

I had to confront my lack of love for myself.

I'm convinced that the first step in the journey toward health has to start with, “Why?”

I am also convinced that if the why doesn't include “because I love me” then the journey is likely derailed from the beginning. The journey toward health (spiritual, relational, emotional, physical) is the hardest thing that I've entered into. If it wasn't rooted in love, I don't think I would have continued.

—

“How did you do it?”

Love and grace my friend, love and grace.

The Journey - Start With "Why?"

Wed, 30 Aug 2023 19:29:55 -0400

Answering one question can start the journey.

It's weird.

The thing is, this really is a journey. It's my own personal hero journey. There are ups and downs. There are obstacles and pitfalls. There have been big successes and some big failures too.

A number of years ago after my second child, Libby, was born I lost a lot of weight. I wanted to to do it for “the kids.” Life was pretty easy and I dropped the weight.

A few years later, life got stressful. I gained all the weight back and kept it on for almost twenty years.

There were diets here and there and I lost some weight and I gained it back.

But, then something changed.

—

Love and grace.

I wanted to be right. I knew I had the truth. More than anything I wanted people to embrace the truth and see that I was right so that they would be able to know what I knew. You could say, I was a bit of tool, and you'd be right. I was arrogant and self-consumed. I was not all that kind.

Over the last ten years that question wouldn't remain in the background. It exploded into the foreground and with it came the question, “What is unconditional love?”

—

“What does any of this have to do with a journey toward losing weight?”

Great question.

In some ways it doesn't have anything to do with it and at the same time it has everything to do with it.

I titled this, Start with “Why?”, because when I finally got rolling on my journey it was when I had finally come to the realization that I loved me.

I loved me enough to exercise. I loved me enough to change my eating habits. I loved me enough to be intentional about relationships. I loved me enough to doggedly pursue my spiritual life.

As I set out on this journey eighteen months ago it was not for my wife or for my children. It was not to get healthy.

I took the first step on the journey because I had finally come to the place where I loved me.

—

I had to confront my lack of love for myself.

I'm convinced that the first step in the journey toward health has to start with, “Why?”

—

“How did you do it?”

Love and grace my friend, love and grace.

The Way of Reconnecting

Wed, 23 Aug 2023 12:38:37 -0400

Why I find the Jesus Way helpful in loving well.

In the single most unsurprising thing ever written, I as a pastor think about religion. I think about it an awful lot. For a long time whenever I thought about religion I did so in a negative way. There was almost an allergic reaction to the word for me. Religion, in my understanding was nothing more than a set of beliefs or rules, an attempt by humanity to reach God.

Over the years though, I have come to understand religion in a very different light. In my desire to run from religion I ran to Jesus. As I ran to Jesus I discovered that religion is good and beautiful. How can I say this? Because, I continue to learn that religion at its core is about re-connecting again and again those things or people that had been broken apart.

As I continue to pursue the way of Jesus I am dumbfounded by how I could not have seen this sooner. For so long my practice of faith was marked by creating in groups and out groups. It started with “Believers” and “Non-believers”. Within the “Believers” there were the “Committed” and “Nominal”. Within the “Committed there were the “Faithful, Available, and Teachable” and their counterparts.

I certainly was not practicing religion. My practice of faith simply functioned to divide and separate.

Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

The Jesus way is rooted in this idea of love that crosses the disconnections. It is religion, that is, re-connecting again and again.

The love that Jesus describes here is not a love that is easy. It costs something. It demands that we set aside our innate desire to separate from and disconnect from those we consider enemies. Not only that, but we are to indeed love them. We are to treat them as neighbors. In the Jesus way we are to treat no one as part of the out-group. No, we are to move toward them in love seeking to re-connect with them.

Jesus also said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life and no one comes to the Father but through me.” The longer I walk with Jesus the more I'm understanding this to mean that as we walk in the Jesus way, this way of self-sacrificial love, we will experience the Divine.

James, the brother of Jesus wrote, “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.”

The control of your tongue in James is directly related to connection/disconnection (he uses the terms blessing/cursing). So, if you claim to be a “religious (reconnecting)” person but all you do is divide your religion is worthless. But, pure and faultless religion (reconnecting) is displayed in looking after orphans and widows. Why those folks? Because they are the embodiment of disconnection. Widows have been disconnected from their husbands. Orphans have been disconnected from their parents. The way of Jesus calls us to the practice of re-connection.

Why do I think this way of Jesus is the best way to practice re-connection (religion)? Because there is a foundation for bringing about re-connection. Jesus teaches the way of reconciliation and re-connection through forgiveness.

As I continue to realize my complicity in causing brokenness and disconnection I continue to find grace, mercy, and forgiveness in Jesus. I am often overwhelmed by a sense of forgiveness from those around me. This provides me an ample pool of grace to draw from to be a conduit of that same grace to help bring re-connection to this world of disconnection.

Perhaps at the end of the day, the most powerful aspect of the Jesus Way is that it's not an individual endeavor but by following his way I find myself part of something bigger than myself. This community of other practitioners of the Jesus Way helps spur me on to love well.

The Way of Reconnecting

Wed, 23 Aug 2023 12:38:37 -0400

Why I find the Jesus Way helpful in loving well.

I certainly was not practicing religion. My practice of faith simply functioned to divide and separate.

The Jesus way is rooted in this idea of love that crosses the disconnections. It is religion, that is, re-connecting again and again.

Acts 17:16-34 // Unknown God

Sun, 20 Aug 2023 14:03:48 -0400

This week we take a look at Paul's visit to the Areopogus in the city of Athens.

Finding My Religion

Thu, 10 Aug 2023 12:30:10 -0400

Could religion actually be good?

When you think of religion what comes into your mind?

For many of us it's probably something like, “man's pursuit of the divine,” or “a system of beliefs,” or “the crutch of humanity,” or “the worst thing that's ever happened to humanity.” Whatever our understanding or definition it's typically tinged with a bit of negativity.

How many folks do you know say something like, “I'm spiritual not religious”? In many of my circles that saying goes like this, “Christianity is a relationship not a religion.”

Religion is apparently not a very popular thing.

“Whatever you do, don't talk about religion or politics.” – Someone

“Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion, too” – John Lennon

Religion is a dirty word. When you talk to most folks it seems like religion conjures up images of disconnection, judgementalism, factionalism, and maybe even hate. I saw a funny meme that said, “Religion is just weird guys in robes making stuff up.”

I think it is safe to say that we do not think, by and large, very highly of religion.

Is there anything redeeming or good or helpful about religion?

Does religion deserve its bad reputation?

Is it possible that religion might not be the evil villain that it has been made out to be?

—

I think it was in a Rob Bell podcast (and he probably got it from Richard Rohr) that I heard something that jarred me and I may have heard an audible record scratch in my mind.

He was talking about religion and in particular he was hitting on the Latin root of the word. Both religion and ligament share the Latin root, “ligare”. “Ligare” means to bind or bond. “Religare” is the Latin term from which we derive “religion.” If my research into the Latin pre-fix “re-” is correct then the idea of “religare” is “bind again and again.”

It's interesting to me that the word that developed into our modern word for “religion” is one that in so many ways is the opposite of what it means today.

What if religion is really about “binding again and again”?

—

As I think about the idea of religion in conjunction to its linguistic roots it is exactly the kind of thing that I want to be about.

What I like about thinking about the term, religion, at this deeper level is that I find it to be deeply connected to the best aspect (in my not so humble opinion) of the human experience: forgiveness.

There is an assumption with the very core of the word that there is going to be disconnection and brokenness and separation but there is also the hope of connection and healing and unity. But, not only that those are realities but also the reality that they would be an ongoing process. There is in the Latin prefix “re-” a sense of again and again.

Religion in this sense is such an honest word. It doesn't try to sugar coat our experience. It doesn't pretend that there is in some way an end to the need for re-connecting. All of us know that life and relationships of every kind are messy and hard.

The deeper we go in relationship the more we will find our need to pursue love and forgiveness.

—

There is only so long that we can pretend in relationships. At some point our masks come off and we finally get real (yes, yes, that sounds an awful lot like the opening to MTV's Real World, I'm a product of my culture). When this happens we will inevitably hurt the person with whom we are in relationship with and they will inevitably hurt us.

My wife and I just celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary. There is no person that knows me like her and I assume that I know her better than any other. We have known one another since 1995. In the nearly 30 years that we have had a relationship we have hurt one another. Some hurts were deeper than others. But, they were hurts nonetheless. Each time we have chosen to forgive and pursue love. In so doing, we were practicing the most foundational form of religion.

I am coming to the conclusion that instead of running away from religion as I follow Jesus, I'm running head long into religion. Religion is the core of what I want to be all about because it seems to be what Jesus was all about.

—

One time Jesus was asked what the most important commandment was. He responded with love God and the second being love your neighbor as yourself. Later, Jesus would expand on the love your neighbor bit to also include loving your enemies.

Jesus was all about religion. He was all about re-connecting again and again those things or people that had been broken apart.

Whether someone is a Christian or a church-goer or even an atheist I think we all might want consider religion.

You see, I don't need to imagine a world without religion. We see that world every single day. Everywhere we look it seems that we can easily find broken relationships and disconnection.

It's harder to imagine a world with religion. A world that was rife with connection and forgiveness rooted in love.

As I continue to think about this it strikes me that there is not any particular belief necessary for religion. What matters is for people to love well. Can a person who believes in God do that? Yes. Can a person who does not believe in God do that? Yes.

I am committed to following Jesus. I think by following in his way it becomes easier to love well to practice religion (but that's for another post).

It turns out that as I have tried to run from “religion” to a “relationship with God” or a deeper “spirituality,” I'm actually finding my religion.

Everyday I wake up with one thing on my mind, “How can I love well today?”

In other words, “I can't wait to practice religion today!”