Daniel Rose: The Pastor Next Door

…the power of covenant.

I am leading our missional community through Micah’s prophecy. It is powerful and challenging. It calls the people of God to righteous action. Not some sort of “social just warrior” kind of action, but an action that is rooted in two things, God’s righteousness and his promises.

We live in an age where promises mean very little.

My country, the United States, is in a constant state of political campaign. Between local, state, and federal office holders politicians of some sort are always campaigning. They make promises, constantly. According to a Rasmussen report in 2014 only 4% of likely voters think that campaigning politicians will keep their promises. That means that an overwhelming majority of people will vote for someone who they don’t think will keep their word.

A bedrock promise that is made over and over in our society is the marital promise. People promise to be committed to one another “till death do us part.” The divorce in the United States is 42–45%. Nearly half of all married people do not keep their promise.

We are cynical people because we have seen promises broken on a regular basis. Promises and oaths do not mean much to people. We simply do not expect them to be kept. If we can’t expect people to keep promises in their most significant of relationships then why would expect any promises to be kept?

Yet, when we open the Scriptures and read the story of the people of God there is this overarching theme of covenant or promise. We can’t escape it.

The closing lines of Micah’s prophecy read,

“Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy. You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea. You will be faithful to Jacob, and show love to Abraham, as you pledged on oath to our ancestors in days long ago.” Micah 7:18–20, NIV

Look at the very last phrase, “as you pledged on oath to our ancestors in days long ago.”

I can’t get over it.

You can’t escape it.

God’s promise, his oath, his word, his covenant, it will stand and he will make good on it.

When you live in an age of skepticism one of the most remarkable things that anyone can do is keep their promise. It might be as simple as arriving on time some place or remembering that you promised to take a friend to the airport. Keeping promises is remarkable when nobody expects anyone to keep their promises.

Then there is this God of the Bible. This God keeps promises over a millennia. The prophets warn of discipline, they warn of exile, they warn of very real consequences to the people of God’s bad behavior. Yet, they also remind that God keeps promises and God will redeem, restore, and renew a remnant, always.

Why?

Because he promised.

The story of Jesus proves that God keeps his promises because death was not victorious over the cross. The resurrection is the culmination of the promise. There is no greater sign than that of God defeating death and raising Jesus from the dead.

The Bible is full of pain, brokenness, and hardship. There is story after story of woe and anguish. There is a sadness that pervades its pages.

There is also a hope. An enduring hope that says, “But God will keep promises.”

When we see this God act out of his righteousness and keep his promises we say like Micah, “Who is a God like you?”

Episode 10

…or the need for a new imagination.

Christians pray the Lord’s Prayer pretty often. Some congregations pray it every Sunday. Many people pray it in their private prayer life. It is safe to say that the Lord’s prayer is central to Christian spirituality.

Yet many of us haven’t take time to even consider what we are praying. We just pray it. The words of the Lord’s Prayer become rote and can become hollow. They are intended to transform us. This prayer is powerful and can change us to our core.

Here is the prayer if you’re unfamiliar with it,

“This, then, is how you should pray: “ ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. ’”

Jesus, in Matthew 6:9–13

I was struck this past weekend by the “your kingdom come, your will be done” bit. I was in a room of folks, who were almost all Christians, and we were talking about the prayer. As we discussed this portion in particular, I asked them to describe what the kingdom of God looks like? What would it mean for this prayer to become reality?

We stumbled around for a bit. There was little vision for what it meant to pray, “your kingdom come.”

As we talked more, it began to dawn on me that we needed to develop a kingdom imagination. So much of our Christian faith is tied to our minds and to our imaginations.

Paul says in his letter to the Romans, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:2)”

Why does he link the renewing of our mind to transformation and non-conformance?

I think it is because when our minds are renewed we have the ability to imagine the kingdom of God in fresh new ways. We can begin to see what this world could look like if God’s kingdom broke into time and space. When our minds are renewed we can see the world as it should be.

There is a saying in the leadership world, “Begin with the end in mind.” When we do this it is easier to figure out our plan. If we know where we are going there is a better chance that we can make it to the destination. When we pray, “your kingdom come,” we are praying with the end in mind. We are praying, “This is the world as it should be. God, help me partner with you as you bring that world to reality.”

If we can’t imagine what that world would look like, then praying, “your kingdom come” is meaningless. It’s empty words.

So what does this kingdom look like? How are our imaginations to be renewed? What is the end goal?

I think we begin in the “Beatitudes” from Matthew 5.

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

This is the world as it should be. When we can start imagining a world like this, we can begin to imagine what it means when we pray, “your kingdom come.”

If we know where we are going, perhaps we can get there.

Episode 9

…or taking time to acknowledge God

Over the last week I have been doing something new in my spiritual practice, not asking God for anything. I have simply been taking time to acknowledge God.

It is ridiculously hard.

No, I am serious. I have never done anything this hard in prayer in my life. Spending time in prayer simply acknowledging who God is has been beyond difficult. You would think that someone who has been actively seeking to follow God since 1995 and is a “professional Christian” would be able to spend hours and hours simply acknowledging God.

Nope. I can’t.

Monday it was about 5 minutes before my mind and heart wandered to other things and people and concerns.

Tuesday it was about 2.

Wednesday, I didn’t even take time to do it because, “What’s the point?” Yes, I’m firmly Gen X.

Thursday, I figured I better make a bit more effort and was successfully able to focus on God and God alone for all of about 7 minutes! Victory! Or not.

This morning, 10 minutes, and in some sense I felt like I had just finished an hour working. Not a cardio kind of work out, but lifting weight with someone who was pushing me. I felt empty and completely filled up all at the same time.

Ten minutes.

That is the best I’ve got right now. Ten minutes.

I have been wrestling with why all week. I have been trying to hear from the Holy Spirit and what word of grace and truth was being spoken to me. I am looking to grab on to a kairos moment. A moment where God breaks in and enters my time and space. Kairos moments drive us to repent and believe. They keep us from getting stuck and propel us to grow.

Here is what I have discovered, I’m self-centered. Completely, utterly, and totally self-centered. In my relationship with God I am totally focused on me. If God were a human being he would walk away from this relationship. Nobody likes being friends with self-centered, me only, people. When it comes to God I am a taker and struggle to give.

You might be thinking, “But you’re a pastor. You’ve given your whole life to God, right?”

I may have given my best hours to serve God, but I am coming to realize that I have not even come close to giving him my life.

I take from God.

I take his grace.

I take his mercy.

I take his ear for my prayer.

I take…

I take…

I take…

Just seeing those things listed out and seeing the repeated “I” makes me sick.

Jesus said,

“This, then, is how you should pray: “ ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,” (Matthew 6:9)

This call to begin our prayer this way challenges us. It demands us to not be self-centered. We start by giving. We begin by giving to God. When we pray we are to start with God in mind.

How do I go forward? Continuing to practice an acknowledgement of God and try to become a giver in relation to him.

Episode 8

Episode 7

Episode 6

Episode 5

Episode 4

Episode 3

Episode 2

Episode 1

…or all of life is sacred.

Last night I spoke at an event called, “The Merge: Where faith, culture, and art meets.” For just a few minutes I spoke about the reality that all of life for the person of faith is sacred. This was in the context of being a person of faith in the public forum.

As the conversation after the talk developed it ceased to be a discussion about living life as a sacred whole and became a discussion about how Christians have conversations with non-Christians. It almost felt like a sales seminar. I have been thinking about this response to the talk (and my attempted questions after) trying to discern why this is what happened.

I think it is because people of faith in America, particularly evangelicals, have lost their sense of identity. We struggle to understand that living as a Christ-follower is to live this way,

“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.” Colossians 3:17

We have come to believe that to “do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus” means that we must include some sort of gospel speech. But that’s not it. It is first to understand that all of life is sacred. All of life, every aspect of life is sacred space and time. Working, playing, sleeping, studying, it is all sacred.

Second, we must come to grips with the fact that being a person of faith in the public forum is to be one who lives the gospel. This means we live truth, grace, mercy, love, and faith. Jesus said,

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

One of the people in the room challenged the direction of the conversation last night. He said, “You say you don’t want this to be a sales pitch. But, you all are talking like it is a sales pitch and trying to figure out how sell people. If it really means so much to you, you don’t need to do that.”

He was right.

That’s it isn’t it? Is following Jesus who I am (who you are) or is it something that you put on? If it is who I am then I can go be a great architect or doctor or student or salesman. If it is who I am then my faith, my identity, will become clear to those around me. I don’t have to pitch Jesus. In the same way that I don’t have explain to everyone how much I love my wife or my kids, my love for Jesus needs to be demonstrated in my life.

When our love for Jesus is not demonstrated in our lives, that’s when we have to pull out the sales pitch.

…how to get out of your spiritual rut.

Part of being on mission with God is our continued growth as a follower of Jesus. It is realizing that we have not arrived nor will we fully arrive with God. As we are on mission with him we must continually hear from him, change, and draw ever closer to him. How do we do it?

When you first start following Jesus it seems like everything is exciting and new. Your spiritual life feels fresh and real. The Bible “comes alive.” You’re reading it and praying. You and God feel super close. It is almost like you can audibly hear his voice.

Then something happens. Those books in the Bible like Ephesians and Philippians feel stale. You try to read some Old Testament and it’s just confusing and hard. So you read a Gospel and it seems really long. All of a sudden your prayers feel like they are bouncing off the ceiling. You start going through the motions of church attendance and maybe a Bible study here or there. You take Instagram pictures of your open Bible next to a steaming cup of joe, that was made from locally roasted beans, but you don’t really read it.

You’re in a rut. You’re stuck in a moment that you can’t get out of (you even tried listening to U2 and it didn’t help).

How do you break out of it?

First, we need to understand that our spiritual growth was never intended to be a “me and Jesus” kind of thing. It was always intended to be an “us and Jesus” kind of thing.

With this in mind, I want to challenge you to enter more fully into the community of believers. For us to break out of a spiritual rut we need other people. When we study the Scriptures it is best done in the company of other believers. We gather around the Scripture and pray and talk and challenge one another.

Second, we need to realize that our spiritual growth is wrapped up in stuff that is everywhere. It’s wrapped up in the small, every day, seemingly meaningless kinds of things. As one ancient writer said, “Do not despise the day of small things.”

We need to slow down and catch on to the things that God is doing in our midst. When we are at a stop light and we catch some beauty or a thought pops into our mind, will we hold on to it or will we ignore it? It is in these moments that we experience kairos moments. A kairos moment is the in-breaking of God into our lives. Too often we ignore it and move on.

Third, the Bible is not Jesus. The Bible is not God. We do not have a relationship with the Bible, we have a relationship with God. While we believe the Bible to be the very word of God and that it is authoritative, we must understand that the Bible reveals God to us but it is not the end all in our relationship with God.

Along with the Scriptures we need an abiding prayer life. If we are all study and no prayer, then our spiritual life will grow cold. Prayer brings us into the spiritual presence of God. It is in prayer that we are changed deeply. Spending time in prayer transforms regular space into sacred space.

Community is the oxygen, the Scriptures are the fuel, and prayer is the match that lights a blazing fire in our soul.

In the dark we just need a glimmer of light…

I rolled over and opened my eyes. It was dark. The darkness seemed to drip from the ceiling. My body ached and my head was pounding. The gentle sound of my wife’s breathing was the only comfort in that moment. As I lay there the anger raged inside me as I thought again of my friend dying, as I sat next to him praying for a miracle.

Staring at the imperceptible ceiling listening to her breathe in and out, listening to the fan occasionally creak, his face flooded my mind. The smile. The coy eyebrow raise when he knew he got you. The excitement of some new trinket in the man cave. There was a joy and a glimmer in his eye that always drew me in. He was a man. He laughed like a man. He cared like a man.

She continued to breathe quietly. The fan continued to gently creak. The darkness continued to close in. The rage was replaced with grief which was replaced with questions.

As I lay there praying for sleep in the darkness, I also prayed for light. I prayed that God would show himself and help me understand why this all happened. There was no “still small voice” only the breathing of my bride and the creaking of the fan.

I prayed until sleep finally came. It was one of those sleeps that felt like it lasted only a moment though in reality it lasted hours.

Sitting on the edge of the bed staring at my feet it still seemed dark, even though the sun had risen and light was streaming through the windows. There was a strange warmth there in the sun. My thoughts went to all the times that God had answered prayer, big and small. I was reminded how he repeatedly showed care for us and our little congregation.

I smiled.

I felt a bit more hopeful.

I still wanted to know why. I desperately want a reason. Even right now.

A couple days ago an older pastor said, “Sometimes it seems like it would be better for God to answer all prayer or none. Do miraculous stuff all the time or never. Yet, he doesn’t. God is God and we are not.”

Where is God? It turns out he is in the sunshine that cracks the darkness to warm the room. He’s in the gentle breathing of my wife and the consistent creaking of the fan. He’s in wise and honest words from a man who has lived a life with Him.

He shows himself in these tiny moments.

Where is God?

He’s there. He’s speaking. Even if he’s not giving me answers. He’s opening his arms and embracing me in the darkness. He is doing the same for you too.

Just look. You will see him.

Some days, that’s all you got.

I have spending quite a bit of time in the Psalms. More and more of that time is spent in Eugene Peterson’s, The Message. He gives words to my soul. Today it is Psalm 77 and it’s all I got.

I yell out to my God, 
I yell with all my might, 
I yell at the top of my lungs.

He listens.

I found myself in trouble 
and went looking for my Lord; 
my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.

When friends said, 
“Everything will turn out all right,” 
I didn’t believe a word they said.

I remember God — and shake my head. 
I bow my head — then wring my hands. 
I’m awake all night — not a wink of sleep; 
I can’t even say what’s bothering me.

I go over the days one by one, 
I ponder the years gone by.

I strum my lute all through the night, 
wondering how to get my life together.
 
Will the Lord walk off and leave us for good? 
Will he never smile again? 
Is his love worn threadbare? 
Has his salvation promise burned out? 
Has God forgotten his manners? 
Has he angrily stalked off and left us?

“Just my luck,” I said. 
“The High God goes out of business just the moment I need him.”

Once again I’ll go over what GOD has done, 
lay out on the table the ancient wonders; 
I’ll ponder all the things you’ve accomplished, 
and give a long, loving look at your acts.

O God! 
Your way is holy! 
No god is great like God! 
You’re the God who makes things happen; 
you showed everyone what you can do — 
You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble, 
rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph.

Ocean saw you in action, God, 
saw you and trembled with fear; 
Deep Ocean was scared to death. 
Clouds belched buckets of rain, 
Sky exploded with thunder, 
your arrows flashing this way and that. 
From Whirlwind came your thundering voice, 
Lightning exposed the world, 
Earth reeled and rocked. 
You strode right through Ocean, 
walked straight through roaring Ocean, 
but nobody saw you come or go.

Hidden in the hands of Moses and Aaron, 
You led your people like a flock of sheep." (Psalm 77, The Message)

Honestly, theology is pretty useless.

There, I said it.

I have wanted to say it since seminary.

Now I’ve said it.

Theology is pretty useless.

Well, let me clarify. Theology that isn’t applied is useless. Doctrine that is aloof and disconnected from the everyday life of the believer is pointless. It is nothing more than a noisy gong.

Paul writes,

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1–3)

I think we can rightly understand “love” here as living out the gospel in real life. Apart from this, we are nothing.

Theology that is trapped in the classroom is useless. Theology that is trapped in the intellect is nothing.

For theology and doctrine to be worth anything they have to be applied and lived out in our lives.

Those of us who are teachers of the Scriptures are teachers of theology too. Our goal is not simply to rightly interpret the Bible. Our goal ultimately is to help the people of God apply it to their lives so that they have a deeper understanding of their identity.

Who we are is shaped by what we believe and what we do. What we do is usually determined by what we believe.

But, if what we believe is simply trapped in our minds then it is nothing.

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. 
(James 1:26–27)

Acta non verba, action not words, a friend is fond of saying.

What good is theology? It’s worthless unless it moves to our hands and feet.

…10 Things We Do As Parents

I’m not an expert. I’m not even close to being an expert. I have a son who is 16 and a daughter who is 14. Both of them are excelling as human beings (in my all too biased opinion). They each have passions that they are pursuing with zeal. I think both of them are becoming good people. They have friends, they respect adults, they are both people that my wife and I enjoy being around.

Any time I ask people what they think I should I write about, one of the most requested topics is, “How do I raise my kids?” I don’t think people ask me this because they think my kids are angels and they want to know how we did it. I think anyone who is raising a child wants help in making sure that they don’t screw up. In our culture we get more training to drive a car than we do for marriage and child raising. So, when it comes to these two most important skills we go in blind.

Pastors, teachers, school administrators, pediatricians, are all people that folks look to for some tracks to run on. We desperately want to avoid screwing up our kids and having them become mass murderers or worse, sanctimonious idiots.

So, how do you do it?

I haven’t finished the process of raising my children to adulthood yet. But, over the last sixteen years I know that we have made some conscious decisions that I think have helped.

1. Their sin is not our sin. That is, we hold our children accountable for their actions and we choose to not feel guilt or shame for their actions. We can’t make choices for them.
2. Ask for forgiveness. We as parents make mistakes, it feels like all the time. When we do mess up, we ask our kids to forgive us. As my son learns to drive, I think I’ve apologized to him more than ever.
3. Be consistent. When we say something needs to be done, we don’t count 1,2,3 or whatever. No, we expect it to be done when asked. When we say that there will be a certain consequence we hold to it. This means that we also “under punish”, so to speak. We don’t give punishments that we as a parents can’t hold to.
4. Extend grace. Sometimes we choose to give grace to our kids. When we do, we explain what grace is, again. We point them to Jesus as we do. Our desire is for them to know that God gives grace and God gives mercy. As parents, we model this attribute of God for our kids.
5. Speak to them. We tell our kids we love them. We tell our kids we are proud of them. We need them to hear those words. There are many other things going into their minds. Our desire is to be the competing tape that says, “You’re loved. We’re proud of you. You have great value. You have purpose. You have meaning.”
6. Choose experiences over stuff. In our family we have chosen that experiencing life and the world is more important than material goods. Our excess money goes to traveling because of sports and vacations. We are intentional about time spent. Even little things, like making time to hit ground balls or play cards, communicate that experience and time spent is the more valuable than things.
7. Have expectations. We have expectations for our kids. They know what the expectations are and they are held accountable to them. As a result, they meet or exceed those expectations.
8. Don’t make excuses. This is hard. But, we have made a decision not to make excuses for our kids. If they succeed, they do so on their hard work and merit and we will support them all the way. If they fail it’s because they didn’t put in the work, didn’t have the God given ability, or because they decided to go in a different direction. But, their failure will not be blamed on anyone.
9. Model love, authenticity, respect, integrity, etc… The vision that we have for our kids is one that we must model for them. They will become the kinds of adults that we show them. We set them up for the best possibility of success by modeling for them what we want them to grow to become.
10. We are not raising children. We are raising adults. This is one of the most important things that we have come grips with. To succeed at almost anything in life you have to a vision of the end. What do you want to accomplish and then figure out how to get there. As parents, our responsibility is not raise children. Our job is to raise adults. We decide what kind of adult we want our kids to become and then we put the things in place to help them get there. With the end in mind you can design a plan and come up with a road map to get there.

I’m not perfect. This isn’t a recipe. But, these are the things that my wife and I have been doing over the last 15 years or so. We’ve learned them from our grandparents, parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, pastors, and friends. So far, our kids are turning out OK. To this point it appears that we have not completely messed them up. We make mistakes, many of them, but we try to own them.

I’d love to hear some of the things that you’re intentionally doing or did in raising your kids. Comment below…

When you write a blog some people typically want to know about your credentials. Credentials are pretty big deal and people who care about such things, really care (and those who don’t, really, really don’t).

I am a graduate of Central Michigan University with a B.S. in Psychology and a Minor in Religion. I also hold a Masters of Divinity from Michigan Theological Seminary. I am an ordained Teaching Elder (a fancy term for pastor) in the Evangelical Presbyterian Church.

I am the lead pastor with the Antioch Movement and I am a part-time teaching pastor at Cornerstone Evangelical Presbyterian Church. The Antioch Movement is a church planting movement that is focused on “sending the sent.” I am hopeful that the kingdom of God can expand in an organic and missional way in the local church. Before launching the Antioch Movement, I served as Assistant Pastor at Grace Chapel in Farmington Hills, MI and before that I spent ten years on staff with Cru serving in Central Illinois and Metro Detroit.

My journey includes an amazing bride, Amy, along with two kids, Ethan and Libby. Living life alongside of these three amazing people reminds me daily of the necessity of the subversive mission of my King and his Kingdom.

Did I mention I like coffee, beer, whiskey, film, music, fiction, and when I jog I chant, “Let’s go Red Wings” under my breath.

While the above paragraphs don’t make me quite as awesome as the Apostle Paul, they provide you a little snapshot of who I am.

…or when things don’t go as planned.

You’ve worked hard all week on an amazing message. The illustrations are poignant and powerful. People will get teary eyed when you drop your perfect tweetable line in the conclusion. You can’t wait to preach. You know this will be one of the most life changing messages you have ever communicated.

Then it happens.

It.

Whatever “it” is.

It happens.

You have to zig instead of zag. The entire night has to be changed because your pastoral heart knows that the people need something else. They don’t need your life changing sermon. They need a different message. Maybe they don’t need a message at all, just time and space to be together. Who knows? But what is evident, is that you have to flex.

Many of us pastors create strategic plans. We have plans for three, five, ten, and fifteen years out. We know exactly how we want everything to work out in our ministry.

The strategies, we believe in them.

The principles, we own them.

The language, we can communicate it.

The passion, we exude it.

The vision, we proclaim it.

We are leaders and we know it. We are the alphas and we will lead our people to the promise land. We will change the world.

God often has other plans for us though. Or maybe it’s just that we live in a broken world and our plans, strategies, and principles are for the ideal and we don’t live in the ideal.

When you are doing life and ministry in the real world, not in the vacuum of a book or seminar, things are messy. Life is messy. People are messy. Messiness means that we have to hold things with a loose grip. There will be times we must be flexible.

Yet, in the midst of being flexible we must also seek to obey. There is an obedience of faithfulness that we have to embrace. Our calling, our vision, our passion, our principles, assuming they come from God, are good and we need to faithfully pursue them. Flexibility in ministry does not mean that we abandon what God is calling us to do in the big picture. Flexibility in the moment allows us to remain obedient in the long run.

Flex and obey, there is no other way.

Choosing Joy

Joy is a decision.

Every day you have to make a choice.

What will you choose?

Will it be anger?

Will it be frustration?

Will it be sadness?

Will it be joy?

Joy is hard to choose.

Joy demands faith.

Faith in the midst of pain is hard.

If we are honest with ourselves pain is where we live most days.

Pain seems to be the water we swim in.

Pain seems to be the air we breathe.

Pain seems to be everywhere we look.

Joy subverts pain.

Joy takes pain and flips it on its head.

Joy makes pain look alien.

Pain is.

Joy is a choice.

What will you choose?

I choose joy.

Every once in a while you come face to face with a brokenness that overwhelms you. It seems that lately this has been the case more than not. I look around and people are not being healed, they are losing jobs, they are experiencing death.

This all sucks.

I know, I know, I’m a pastor and my Mimi would be mad that I just used the “s-word.” But, you know what, it does suck.

That’s the truth of the matter.

The brokenness of this world is overwhelming at times. I am so mad and frustrated with it. I wish God would simply do what I want him to do. When I pray for him to heal someone, I want him to do that. When I ask him to save a marriage, I want him to do that. Every once in a while, I want him to supersede the secondary causes of human sin, frailty, and brokenness to make this world how I want it.

He’s sovereign and good I remind myself. But, dang it sure does not feel that way at times. Not even a little. I don’t really doubt his goodness, but there are times when I wonder if he really does have control of this ball of dust.

Intellectually, I know he does.

Intellectually, I know that everything has purpose.

Today, as I drink my coffee, it doesn’t feel like it at all.

Emails, phone calls, texts, Facebook statuses, they all point to something else.

Even now, I am thinking about all the times God has responded. All the times when it made no sense for something to happen apart from God’s miraculous intervention. That makes me smile.

A few months ago my son said, “Dad, if I need something important to happen, I am asking the church to pray. God listens to our church and does stuff.”

It doesn’t feel that way this morning. But, I know it to be true. Me and God have history. But, I have a short memory.

“When my heart was grieved and 
my spirit embittered, 
I was senseless and ignorant; 
I was a brute beast before you. 
Yet I am always with you; 
you hold me by my right hand. 
You guide me with your counsel, 
and afterward you will take me into glory. 
Whom have I in heaven but you? 
And earth has nothing I desire besides you. 
My flesh and my heart may fail, 
but God is the strength of my heart 
and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:21–26

This morning I was reading this Psalm and this section struck me. I am still in the, “I was senseless and ignorant” stage. I am working my way toward the “Whom have I in heaven but you?” stage.

Even so, God can handle me saying, “This sucks.”

Two young black men were riding home from football practice in my car. The four of us were laughing, cutting up, and making fun of each other. We came up on multiple police cars and officers investigating something. These two young men immediately folded their hands in their lap, became quiet, stared straight ahead, and were silent.

After we passed the officers there was a moment and then the teasing, laughing, and cutting up began again.

My brother and many of my closest friends are police officers. I love police officers. I am grateful for them and the service they provide. We could not live the lives we do without them.

But, in that moment it, there was fear, a raw fear that sucked the air out of my car. This fear demanded two young men to immediately become silent upon seeing officers even while being in the car of a white man.

We can love and respect and support our police officers and still recognize that there is something beyond broken in our culture. This fear was real.

But we need to make changes. Those of us who are white need to learn. We need to listen. We must not marginalize people’s experiences.

As a pastor, I have to lead in the pursuit of justice. I’m still learning what that means. I know that it won’t be done on social media. It will be done in relationships, relationships that I pursue. I will be able to lead only as I change.

All I know, is that there are good young men, honorable young men, hard working young men, who live their lives in fear. They know a fear that my son will never know.

*Originally Published: September 21, 2016

Originally published at danielmrose.com.

When I was on staff with a large college ministry we spent a lot of talking about how to help college guys become men. We did men’s retreats every year. There was a very specific model that we thought these men had to fit in; tough, rugged, and macho.

We also spent a lot of time trying to teach college girls to be women. This focused a lot on their outward appearance teaching them to dress modestly so they didn’t cause the “men” to “stumble.”

Summer mission trips had female dress codes. No bikinis. No tankinis. No “cheek leak” in your one piece. No spaghetti straps. No “shorts that were too short.” No. No. No. No.

I’m now the father of a teenage son and a teenage daughter. My perspective has radically changed as my wife and I are trying to raise a good man and a good woman.

As I look back at that time with college students I need to ask these women forgiveness. I shamed you. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I put a burden on you that was not yours to bear. As I spoke at retreats and in small groups, I made it seem like you were responsible for the holiness of the men around you. You are not. How you dress does not determine the way a guy looks at you, he does. He is the one who chooses to objectify and drool over you. I’m sorry, deeply sorry for creating an environment where you experienced shame and guilt. I’m sorry that we communicated to you that men are animals and can’t learn to control their urges. I’m sorry that we made you feel like some sort of a temptress simply because you are a woman. I was wrong. I see that now. Please forgive me.

We are subtly and (at times) overtly teaching boys that men are not to be held responsible for their urges. We have created this environment that says, boys and men are animals. They can’t control themselves. “Boys will be boys.” I’m so disgusted by this. I am not an animal. My son is not an animal. He can make choices and decisions not to be lewd, disgusting, and lecherous. The girls at his school are not responsible for what goes through his mind or the minds of his friends. We work hard to teach him that to be a man is to honor and respect women. Can he and his friends appreciate beauty in a woman without being a lust crazed maniac? Yes. Boys can learn to control themselves.

There is a culture of rape in our society. This is born out of the perspective that women are somehow responsible for what men do. It’s wrong. Boys and men are responsible for themselves and their actions.

We tell girls and women to be comfortable with their bodies out of one side of our mouth. Then out of the other we say don’t be too comfortable. If you dress that way you’re slutty. If you wear that boys may think you want them to have sex with you. If something bad happens to you, “you brought it on yourself.”

I want my daughter to know that she is not simply her body. I want to her to know that she can wear a sundress or leggings and is not a distraction to some animalistic male. She needs to know that if a guy objectifies it’s not her fault, it’s his, regardless of what she was wearing.

We need to raise the level of expectations for our sons. I want my son to be a man. This means that he takes responsibility for himself. It means that he owns his thoughts and actions. It means that he doesn’t shift blame to anyone.

Let’s teach them to be men.

Originally published at danielmrose.com.