I Hate Death

I Hate Death

“I Hate Death”

Those words came out of my mouth this week. They startled me somewhat, but I have to admit that they are true.

Death is in front of us all of the time now. And I hate it.

We are tired of it. We are tired of hearing about death, but at the same time strangely attracted to the newest statistics. Death is an annoyance to us so it is easy for us to either keep the thought at arm's length or avoid our own mortality altogether. Now, though, we aren't able to hide from our future reality.

One other reason we are tired of death has little do to with a virus: we all know death is just wrong. Yes. I said it is wrong. Maybe even "unnatural." We know it deep down. We know that death (though “normal” to us) is not natural for us.

Grieving the loss of a cherished companion or being there when someone else grieves upends us in ways "natural" things do not. Relationships (by their nature) are so strong that they were never meant to end. There is not supposed to be a shelf life on loving another person.

The claim of Jesus was that death is unnatural. Yes, even then he was looked at strangely for assuming death has an expiration date because it was so normal for his hearers. The attractiveness of the thought tells us something. We all wish death would die and leave us alone. We all hate death.

When Jesus invites us into his abundant life, it is the type of life that is stronger than death. This type of life is a life where we don’t have to fear death because death does not have the last word in our lives.

Most of all, Jesus didn’t just talk about the dying of death, he lived it. Easter became the celebration that it is because of the hope it gives us: Jesus overcame death by going through it and coming out very much alive!

The heart of what it means to trust in Jesus is to trust that he is the first of many who will overcome death...and the greatest. It is okay to hate death. It will die.

Everything is Lava

Everything is Lava

Everything is Lava

I never thought that I would be courageous enough to get up on a weekday morning and go grab food for my family at the grocery store. I didn’t think I had it in me, honestly. I had to brave the wilds of our local Fred Meyer and as I walked around store, we could all feel the tension in the air. That’s when I recognized it: everything is lava.

At home, we often play the game “the floor is lava.” That means…we can’t touch it. Its incredibly stressful to be paying for a floor in the living room that my daughter says I can’t walk on.

You feel it too don’t you. Everything is lava. We can’t touch anything. We can’t even be around each other. For some, our jobs are lava right now. It feels like crisis is the new normal, and our bodies, minds, and hearts were not fashioned to live like that for long.

Here is my encouragement: pause. Rest. We feel more stress in more areas in our lives than we have ever felt. This season of our lives will end, but the uncertainties and uncharted territory we are experiencing demand more emotional energy from us than we even realize.

Everything is lava right now, but rest. Think about Jesus’ words to any who would hear him and take him seriously:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28–30)

Jesus knows that we are living in days of high anxiety and trouble. He knows that simple trips to the grocery store are no longer simple (and sometimes, fruitless…literally). He knows we do not have the capacity to hold up underneath all of the stress that we live under. Jesus knows that everything is lava for us.

Slow down. No, really. Slow down. Slow down before you break down. Take Jesus at his word and come to him to find rest. The kind of rest that will help us not only endure this period of our histories, but will give us a profound sense that he is present with us as we are immersed in crisis.

Jesus is inviting us to rest in him. Its an invitation. Its a welcome. Its also what we long for.

Hungry to Hear

Hungry to Hear

"Teacher, eat."

They were looking out for him since it had been a while since he had eaten. They knew he was tired. His weariness was obvious in the way he sat down determinedly by the well. It was just midday, but the previous days had caught up with Jesus.

The men had just traveled together into town, leaving their master alone to have some downtime. As they came back they were taken aback by seeing the teacher talking to a woman, alone. She abruptly left go into her town, sharing a message that eventually drew the townsfolk to come meet her Messiah.

Sensing Jesus' need to eat, they offered him some of the food they gathered. And, Jesus was hungry, but he was hungry for something more than the morsels they offered him. The mysterious man's response was: "I have food to eat that you do not know about...my food is to do the will of him who sent me and accomplish his work."

Jesus' food was both to know and do the heart of the Father. It filled his soul and he was hungry to hear.

Though Jesus didn't have a copy of the Hebrew scriptures with him or a Bible he could carry around (God's Word was being revealed as he spoke!), Jesus carried the Word of God in him. He had memorized scripture. He was always meditating on the truth of what His Father said in the Law and the Prophets. What the Father was saying defined what he did...and he was hungry to hear.

We are hungry for more than food, but what are we hungry for? Is the very same Word that Jesus treasured a treasure to you? Does the word that the Father speaks fill your soul or are you content with lesser, emptier words?

The Sound of Silence and the Substance of Solitude

The Sound of Silence and the Substance of Solitude

Do something with me. At least consider it. Make time for something that I promise you won't like. (This is why I am not a salesman. ABF: Always be failing )

At least not at first.

Take some time over the next couple of days to be silent. Go to a secluded part of your home (where else would you go now?!) and find a quiet place to be quiet. for 15 minutes. 15 minutes doesn't sound like long, but- if you are like me- the first few minutes of the silence might be broken by my counting- outloud- the number of seconds that have passed.

We have an aversion to silence. Most of the time when I run I have to have music or a podcast to listen to. There are many people who feel like something is wrong if they don't hear the sound of the TV in their room. When walk into a restaurant (when we are able to) we EXPECT music. If there isn't music then we get uncomfortable.

The same is true for solitude. We can sit in a coffee shop together, but alone and that is normal. But, stark solitude is scary even for the most introverted of introverts. There is a reason why prisoners behavior is shaped by the threat of solitary confinement.

But, what if both silence and solitude are means to living Jesus' abundant life. What if these practices that we might reluctantly agree to (if lead by God's Spirit) are actually healing to our soul and life-giving. What if it is in solitude and silence we meet with the One our souls' are made for in new, and full ways?

     

 
   Out for a long, out of the way, walk yesterday on the way to the grocery store and I (Wes) thought I would share some of the thoughts that are on my mind with you from Day One of our Lockdown.  Jesus’ people are the picture of a topsy tur

Out for a long, out of the way, walk yesterday on the way to the grocery store and I (Wes) thought I would share some of the thoughts that are on my mind with you from Day One of our Lockdown.

Jesus’ people are the picture of a topsy turvey world being made right again. Perfectly? Not even close, but we are a living sign of what the Lord can do and will do. What our Creator (and re-Creator) does in his world- that which is most important- is always through relationships.

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Soulish Security

Soulish Security

“And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘Fool!…” Luke 12:19-20a

The man was wealthy and entrepreneurial, but he was a fool. Don’t get me wrong, the farmer knew his stuff. Before the above verses it said “The land of a rich man produced plentifully…” and he was shrewd enough to think through what it would take to store the crops.

He knew business, but he didn’t understand life. He was a fool.

He wasn’t a fool because he was wealthy. That’s not the point. He wasn’t a fool because he stored the food. That’s not a bad idea. (To be honest don’t we all want a stockpile of food right now?)

He was a fool because he convinced himself (his “soul”) that he was safe and also secure because of his wealth and his shrewdness. He did not (want to) recognize that his produce came from the Lord of all Creation and the Giver of all good things.

When we get to the heart of it, he wanted to be secure apart from the security that comes in relationship with God.

Its is addictive to read the freshest news report to find out about the societal damage the virus-that-shall-not-be-named is causing. The fear it brings with it is more infectious than the microscopic invader itself. The stock market fell (again!) today. If you have a 401k, it is worth significantly less today than it was worth 3 weeks ago. Small businesses and their employees are hurting already with mandatory shut downs.

And, to top it all off, it seems like toilet paper is so rare it will soon be used as currency.

But, I don’t have to tell you these things. You know them don’t you? You feel the uncertainty. We sleep lighter if we really get to sleep at all. The insecurity we feel is because what we find our security in (“Soul…relax, eat, drink, be merry”) is being taken from us.

Right now it seems that we are in the beginning of it all.

Though there is much more that Jesus says about this heart condition of seeking Soulish Security coming up, he pauses to make us ask the hard questions: Where do I find my security? Where does my heart go to find rest in uncertain times? What do I really put my trust in?

The rich farmer was not a fool because he wanted security and rest for his soul. He was a fool because he looked for that rest and security in barns that fall down and grain that will perish.

Jesus offers himself as the rest and security our souls need. So that we can confidently say to ourselves “Soul, you have a Father who has ample goods he loves to lavish on his children. Enough for the rest of your years. Rest in him. Eat his good gifts. Drink of his living water. Be joyful and secure!”

Though it doesn’t feel like it, our insecurity and uncertainty right now is a gift. A gift from a Good Father who is drawing us to real security in him.

Real Reasons to Worry...and Not To Worry

Real Reasons to Worry...and Not To Worry

Can I confess something with you? I tend to be an anxious person. To some it is obvious when they are around me. Sometimes it is unnoticeable. (Or at least I think it is!)

There have been times when people have come to me and said "Just stop worrying." The response that I often keep to myself is "You don't know what you are talking about! I have real reasons to be worried!"

isn't that right though? We have reasons to be worried. Real reasons. We might make those reasons bigger than what they really are, but they are reasons. Nice platitudes of "everything is going to be okay" have no power against those reasons.

One of those reasons may be the threat of an unknown virus.
One of those reasons may be the threat of a lost relationship
One of those reasons may be the loss of job, or money, or livelihood.
Almost always that reason is the loss of control.

Those reasons are like summer heat to a tree. We think of heat this time of year as a good thing, keeping us warm from the long cold of a Seattle winter. But, we know that too much heat- too many real reasons to worry- can dry our souls out.

Are those very real reasons the very last word on the subject?

In Jeremiah 17:7–8, the Lord says to his people:

“Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose trust is the LORD.
He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
for it does not cease to bear fruit.” (ESV)

The person who trusts in the Lord flourishes in the midst of the heat that causes the drought. The heat is real (!), but the heat is not enough to make the faith-filled person fearful or anxious or barren. There is something about letting the Lord be in control and trusting that he is good at being in control that causes a person's real reasons to be anxious to dry up instead of their soul.

We need a reason greater than the reasons that make us anxious in order to trust a Good Father. God himself knew what it was like to live in the heat. Jesus lived a life where fear surrounded him, where threats were waiting on the periphery to destroy him, where brokenness and sin were the air he breathed.

Experiencing what we experience, he did not fear. On the contrary, he was so full of life (like a tree planted by water) that no worry could hold him back by acting out the fullest expression of love anyone has ever expressed: giving his life for the sake of those who counted him as an enemy. He took the heat of the punishment of sin in order to draw us close enough that we might trust him and be one of these "blessed" people.

The love that God demonstrated at the cross in the life of the Son is a bigger, more powerful reason not to worry than the lists of reason we have to worry.

Drought will come. The inescapable heat of summer will come. The reality of our short existence on this planet is that our desire for comfort and safety will be interrupted by the reality of the unknown, the uncontrollable, and the uncomfortable. Microscopic, unseen invaders will attack our bodies and threaten our "normalcy."

But, perfect love casts out fear. Knowing God's abundant love drives out anxiety when we realize that his love does not dry up in the heat of the real reasons to be anxious.

Disruptive

Disruptive

The Temptation to be Obnoxious
On a bus full of strangely quiet people. The goofy side of me wants to start talking abruptly and loudly on this number 40 bus to draw their attention away from their phones. I’m on mine too writing this. That's probably better.

I’m usually not the guy who disrupts... or at least try not to be.

But as I see the status quo and grow weary of how Jesus has no place in the lives of the people around me... it makes me a little more desirous to shake things up. But that’s not my job. (Good thing) Mine is to treasure Jesus and walk in his Spirit.

Jesus is the Right Kind of Disruptive
The thing is: Jesus is humbly disruptive. (I would be obnoxious) His life among us showed it. He was never satisfied with the status quo. He knew our sinful status quo just keeps us bored and selfish all the the way to our destruction. 

Picture Jesus walking into the temple courts with a zeal that consumed him for what his Father's house should be. (see Matthew 21:12-17) There was nothing weak or fearful about him, no false politeness or capitulation to the "way things are," but only a resilient passion to see His Father honored by his people enjoying prayerful fellowship with the Father rather than seeking unjust gain. So he drove people out of the temple. He disrupted their day, their business, and their lives by acting on what mattered to him.

(Also notice that even as he drove people out with authority, the broken and the weak were not afraid to come to him. They still saw tenderness in his eyes. I long to be like Jesus in both!)

Disrupted the Stranglehold of Sin
Jesus' authoritative love saturates all he does. That love- along with the strength of his humility- is always disrupting our lives..showing us a life better than the sin we think is real life and shaking up our definition of joy. Like C.S. Lewis said “we are far too easily pleased”with the muck of sin and unaware to the playful satisfying joy of all he has for us that sin blinds us too.

Distrupted the Passing Reign of Death
How wide eyed must the disciples have been to see a once-dead man waking? Startled into faith. What is starling is that the most “natural” and widespread of all human functions was not just pushed around but overcome from the inside out.Jesus was living proof to those fear filled men that death isn’t the final word. Death reigned until Jesus did. Because of that, if Jesus is our master than death is not.

Our Desire for Our Lives to Be Distrupted
Now I’m standing in the rain at one last bus stop before I get home and kiss my favorite people in the whole world goodnight. Its raining on both me and the anonymous people standing with me waiting for the 31 bus. Though these neighbors are anonymous, I have met so many people like them who have no room (yet) for new life...no desire (yet) to be disrupted. But that’s my prayer for them now as I type on my phone...that Jesus would graciously disrupt their lives that someday they would worship him for doing so.

Footfalls

Footfalls

"Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel...To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law...that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law...that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, that I might will the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some."

1 Corinthians 9:16, 20-22

Snowmageddon 2019
The snow that has inundated our city for the last few days is melting, slowly. People are coming out of their weekend hibernation and starting to move around again.The snow is turning to slush which will turn to streams sometime soon. At some point I'll be able to dig my car out and brave the hill by our house that has recently been used more for sleds than cars.

Walking is my main mode of transportation while the snow is on the ground and I noticed something interesting as I walked out of our house to meet a friend for lunch: raccoon footprints. They were clearly the footprints of a nocturnal neighbor looking for something to eat at our front door. Poor guy. Nothing to eat here.

But what was more interesting is that it made me notice other footprints...where people had walked. Most (non snow) days we can't tell if someone came up to our door to scavenge some discarded food, but when the snow is carpeting the sidewalks and driveways those footfalls are obvious.

What I Don’t Notice

As I walked to the pizza place we planned to meet at, I noticed people's footsteps like I had never had before. I could see where people had been and, because of the direction of their shoe prints, could tell which way they were going.

Normally, I don't notice. But, I want to.

The more I spend time with friends who are not-yet-believers in Jesus, I realize again a truth I need to hold on to: I need to watch their path of life in order to walk with them. 

When We Never Cross Paths

The reality is that most of our friends who haven't yet trusted Jesus are not going to walk my path; their footfalls will not go the same direction as mine for the most part, metaphorically speaking. 

If we are going to have a meaningful conversation about meaningful things (i.e. Jesus and the gospel) then I cannot expect them to follow the way I am going, I need to walk with them.

I must look to see where their feet fall and go with them. 

Life Interrupted

There are some sinful places I won't go, but most of the time that's not the real issue...the real issue in walking with someone is how much it interrupts my life.

Jesus lived a life interrupted. I imagine that he would start off going one direction during the day and then see someone who the Father had appointed for Him to meet with. Jesus "heard" the heart of the one's around him and responded to that person and that response was not a canned response. There is a sense in which Jesus' life was full of interruptions and changes of plans, but all of it planned by the Father before the beginning of time to draw people in and be enamored with his glory.

Jesus learned our (human) languages. Jesus learned (and joined in on!) human customs. Jesus followed a woman at a well down a path of discussion that went from literal thirst, to her scandalous love life, to who the Messiah should be, to- the heart of it all- who she treasured the most. (See John 4) Jesus became all things to all people pleasing them- not for his own advantage- but to disadvantage himself for them in love.

Or maybe better said "Disadvantaging himself for US in love."

Love that Compels to Walk a New Path

That very same love compels me...even if it is a weak love. I look at my friend whose salvation is ahead of them (God willing) and wonder what will it take for them to hear the gospel in their own language- to get the truth even if they don't receive the truth. What will we have to rearrange or rethink in order to make the gospel accessible to people through play dates, lunch meetings, baseball games, and neighborhood work projects? Those are the places their feet are already falling.

Oh, I want my friend to follow my footsteps and go with me along my path of life, but, if they won't, I have to ask myself "Am I enamored with Jesus so much that I will walk where I have to so that they will be enamored with Jesus?"

There is joy in seeing the paths in which are friends are walking, but it takes courage to reorient life to walk with them- a courage I often wonder if I have. But what if the path they are walking is the very same path that Jesus is walking in order to both win their heart, and strengthen our faith?

Tomorrow, the snow will be gone (I hope anyway) and people's footfalls won't be as easy to notice. God, please help us to learn our friend's "paths of life" by being with them, asking questions, and letting the Spirit help us see their heart questions.

The Just Do Justice (the final part)

The Just Do Justice (the final part)

The Response that Leads to Justice

If you look at Jesus’ story, it is in response to a discussion with a man steeped in Old Testament law. This man knew what the Torah said. He could quote it. He could teach Sabbath School about this and many other things!

But, it hadn’t yet affected him at his core. How do I know that? Because “he sought to justify himself.” That’s the response of one who has only heard the truth and not been affected by it.

Jesus makes the point that the greatest commandment is to love God with everything and the second is the overflow of the first: we are to love our neighbors as ourselves. Or, to unpack part of what that means: do justice.

But there is another profound message here: we will only do justice from a pure (singularly focused) heart when ours has been affected, struck dumb, wowed, and quieted with the love of a just God.

Awakened to Worship

We don’t do justice because it earns God’s love. No. Not that at all. We do justice as a love response to his love. When we see the injustice Jesus absorbed so that we would not get the justice we deserved from our Just God, and by faith we accept that grace, the natural response of a heart awakened to his love is worship…

…worship that manifests itself in the very same joyful sacrifice of the Samaritan. 

More about Jesus than the Samaritan
As we look deeper into the story of the Samaritan, we can see Jesus is telling us more about himself than the story of the Samaritan. Jesus is the real definition of a neighbor in our lives. Though our sin leaves us destitute and spiritually dead, Jesus came to us. He spent, not his money, but his entire self on us in order to bring us into his life. The Samaritan risked his life in the wild lands between Jericho and Jerusalem in order to save this unnamed man, but Jesus knew that our salvation would cost him both the beatings of men and also the just wrath of his Father. It wasn’t a risk. “Risk” implies that he might not lose. Jesus knew he would lose. He knew he would suffer a just wrath that was on him rather than on we who created the injustice.

The more I understand those truths, the more my heart is broken to joyful worship. Whole hearted. Sometimes that shows in my life as singing. Sometimes, praying. Sometimes, doing justice..

Finally…

It is the ones who have been made just by the Justifier of our souls who do justice. The reality of the cost of justice doesn’t drive them away; it emboldens them to look to God for his resurrection power. And, God willing, both the victims and the perpetrators are transformed to be the next worshippers…who do justice.

The Just Do Justice (part three)

The Just Do Justice (part three)

The Resurrection Power to Do Justice

Many of the churches around us focus their attention on social justice. I am very grateful for those who are willing to spend their prized time, their limited energy, and money they don’t have to get their hands dirty to serve the hurting. We need more and more people who will see that serving the oppressed and marginalized is worth their effort. May it be!

But, how will it be? I need to bring up a question. Knowing my own heart and my tendency to doubt God’s goodness in a painful world and his power among a people who thrive on dominating each other, I need to question whether or not this is all that the Father wants. Is following Jesus merely doing good deeds in Jesus’ name or is there something that defines his people that is deeper, more primal, and more central to his heart?

On its face, that kind of “social justice” Christianity looks like a helpful “Christiany” thing. But what often lies underneath the surface is a system of disbelief- or at least a lost hope in the power of Jesus to transform lives at the core of who we are. It is possible to do justice, using Jesus’ name, and the motivation behind the doing is a belief that social justice is the most meaningful part of what it means to be a Christian. Doing justice (though a beautiful thing) is emphatically NOT the core. 

Doing justice is the fruit of something more profound: just people do justice. Or, to say it another way, “people resurrected to be just” do justice. People who have been transformed by the resurrection power of Jesus are transformed out of the death of radical selfishness (even manifesting in good deeds) and into the life of empowered love and self sacrifice.

The Samaritans’ compassion was a God- fueled compassion. This God-fueled compassion is shown in his both his sacrificial help on the road and the joyful endurance in coming back to the inn the next day to help some more. Is is not mere human willpower; it is the resurrection power of Jesus’ life that indwells every believer. 

This resurrection power is the power of God to change one person’s life. This must come first. This must not be left out. We don’t emphasize “at the root of our soul spiritual conversion” because we want to make people feel “less than” or condemn them. No, we focus our attention on what the gospel can do to transform someone’s life so that they can find the deep, resonant, fulfilling joy in doing justice with the very same heart that Jesus did.

Then we don’t have to guilt people to volunteer; we unleash people to be the change agents in the world they already are.

It is this personal transformation to not just doing justice, but being just that changes the world. But, there is one more part to this…and it might be the most important part of all. (more…)


The Just Do Justice (Part two)

The Just Do Justice (Part two)

The Reality of Doing Justice

Doing justice is often glamorized in our culture.  At least some forms of it are. But, the reality is that the man lying on the side of the road (see Luke 10 again) represents the lives of many people.

It is the Burmese woman who was fleeing her oppressive country and was (almost) captured at the border to be sold into slavery by those who were paid to protect her. If she didn’t have cash on her she might not have been able escape to Austin, Texas where she told me her story while cutting my hair. It is the children who are taken from their homes because they are abused, only to be put in situations where they may be able to be abused again. There are almost as many stories like this as their are people in our world.

To the man lying on the road, the Samaritan’s compassion was necessary. To the Samaritan, his compassion was costly.

The reality is that there are men lying on the side of the roads due to other’s selfishness, and the robbers may be lying in wait for the good Samaritans, also Doing justice is dirty, messy, and costly. It comes with the possibly of compassion fatigue caused by pouring our lives into people who need much more than we could ever give.

Then there is the truth that all opression and injustice is backed and empowered by the principalities and powers bent on destroying anyone who reflects the glory of God to the world. That’s too much to write about now, but chew on it by reading about it here: Ephesians 6:10-20

The reality needs to be looked at for what it is so we don’t live naive. Let’s run from naiveté onto the dangerous dirt road that the Samaritan walked. With that being said, the reality of what it takes do do justice leads us not to be afraid, but to embrace the truth that the very same Jesus who has been raised from the dead empowers his people to do justice.

We don’t walk that dark road alone. And we don’t walk heartless or powerless. More to come…

The Just Do Justice (part one)

The Just Do Justice (part one)

Will you be part of my (Wes’) sermon preparation for this week? I need a sounding board to remind myself of what we talked about 2 weeks ago so I can see where we go next with our text.

But, because I haven’t written in a while, you probably don’t know what the text is.

It is Micah 6:8. And we are spending 4 weeks on it. Yep, its one verse. But it is so worth it.

So, I’m going to go with you are willing to read along. 

The title of our message was “The Root of Justice: The Just Do Justice.” The first part is our series. The second part is the part unique to this sermon. I have to remind myself of this part too.

We focued on the very simple command “do justice.” The command is short but the meaning is profound. What is “justice?” How do we do it? With every person one could ask (and I have asked a few) we will get a different definition of what “justice” is. Then, if we are not careful, we could subtly communicate that this command is merely about action alone, and not the heart behind it.

To deal with these questions we also look at Luke 10 and the story of the Samaritan who stopped to serve a wounded man, left for dead. Stop and read it. Here is a link: click here. It starts in verse 25.

But, here is the point: the gospel of Jesus is the root of all true and full justice. Let me say it again because I need to grab hold of it: the gospel of Jesus is the root of all true and full justice. That may be the most offensive thing I said all week, but I say it, not only because it is true, but because it is necessary and good.

Hold on to that. It brings hope when looking at the reality of injustice. More to come soon…

"An Identity that is Ours in Christ"

"An Identity that is Ours in Christ"

In preparing for our sermon this Sunday evening, I found myself going back to one of my favorite books, “Total Church: A Radical Reshaping around Gospel and Community.

I have read a lot of books that have “Church” in the title and, though each is very helpful in its own way, many of them start to sound the same. More about the “how” of doing church stuff than the “who” and the “why.”

Total Church gets to the “who” and the “why” in ways that are both refreshing and challenging to me.

I share the following just because I think it is worth sharing. I will quote at length because I think many who would never purchase this book would be helped by this portion.

Answering the question, “What would it mean to be both gospel-centered and community centered?” Tim Chester and Steve Timmis propose these ideas:

Being both gospel-centered and community-center might mean:

  • seeing church as an identity instead of a responsibility to be juggled alongside other commitments.

  • celebrating ordinary life as the context in which the word of Godis proclaimed with “God-talk” as a normal feature of everyday conversation

  • running fewer evangelistic events, youth clubs, and social projects and spending more time sharing our lives with unbelievers

  • starting new congregations instead of growing existing ones

  • preparing Bible talks with other people instead of just studying alone at a desk

  • adopting a 24-7 approach to mission and pastoral care instead of starting ministry programs

  • switching the emphasis from Bible teaching to Bible learning and action

  • spending more time with people on the margins of society

  • learning to disciple one another-and to be discipled- day by day

  • having churches that are messy instead of churches that pretend

(Total Church, page 18; emphasis mine)

The Full(est) Life

The Full(est) Life

Ephesians 1:22–23: And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all. (ESV)

I want to spend some time considering what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. When I say that, what I mean is that I feel like I understand the word "disciple," but not the meaning. It is as if the word cannot hold in the fullness of the meaning that Jesus gives it in how he taught and how he lived.

The word "disciple" isn't big enough to hold the meaning, and I am not big enough to take it all in. The reason? Because what it means to be a disciple of Jesus is to become like him in every way- and he is full in every way. Too full to...uh...fully comprehend.

That word "full" sounds strange, but only because so much of our lives is empty that we are not used to full. Yes, we have full (read: busy) lives and most of the time full stomachs, but there is an emptiness to that. Looking for an identity in what we do or how we perform reveals a soul emptiness. Counting down the minutes until it is socially acceptable to drink our anxieties away shows emptiness. The feeling of hopelessness that comes from years of hollow friendships where people are too afraid to be known and accepted fully points to a deep emptiness of relationships.

We are so used to emptiness that our capacity for fullness has shrunk.

I long for people to be full and when I read scripture and I see Jesus' life, I feel his fullness; an internal life that is both rock solid, tender, and bursting out with life.

What it fully means to follow Jesus seems illusive, but I also know that he isn't trying to keep that life from us. On the contrary, he wants us to have his abundant life (see John 10:10) and I want to explore that through my own reading a book of Luke. I may make some notes over the next few weeks as I read through Luke's gospel asking the questions "How is Jesus teaching us to following him?" and "How is Jesus showing us what it means to have a full life?"

An Agreeable God?

An Agreeable God?

After studying Psalm 2 over the last week or so and seeing a very different picture of who God is than the get-a-long with everyone God that I often want him to be, I have been asking questions about what it means to make God in my image. 

Really, to be honest, I am asking question about how I myself make God in my image. When I am scared, I want him to fix my problem immediately. When I want to be in control, I expect him to do exactly what I ask. When I treasure my sin an wallow in it, I want him to smile and wink and say something like "Let's not make a fuss about that." I often expect him to be like I can when other people sin against me: self-righteous and angry to the point of secretly hoping that someone pays for their sin.

But, the God who made us in his image is different than the image I make of him.

He is far less agreeable to me than I want him to be and far more loving than I expect. If God agreed with everything we thought we wouldn't rage, but we wouldn't worship either.

In Psalm 2 verses 1-3 the "nations" and their rulers are described as being enraged. A cold, calculating rage that drives them to be antagonistic to the Lord and his anointed King. (At the time of the writing of the Psalm, it was the king on Israel's throne, but that king always represented and pointed forward to the True and Better King, Jesus.) They saw the Lord as oppressive in his ways and repressive in his standard of life. There was no convincing them that real life, real joy was found in the Lord's way of living. They couldn't and wouldn't believe it. So they wanted to throw off the perceived shackles of his oppression and search for life their way. The best possible life they could find apart from God.

We are not so different. It is too easy to believe that God just wants to be the Cosmic Killjoy trying to take from us what we enjoy in order to make is boring (and bored) people who are quiet and submissive. The lie the enemy of our souls tells us is that God is holding back from us, keeping all the joy and pleasure to himself while we are made to dutifully be good little boys and girls.

The "nations" and the kings of Psalm 2 could not imagine a deeper joy or greater pleasures other than what they knew. They could not imagine that the way they were rejecting was really where they would find their deepest life and the fullness of joy. (see Psalm 16:11; Matthew 11:28-30)

Like me, my friends often make God in their own image saying things like "If he is loving he must be___________" or "I cannot imagine a God who would ____________." We have this thought that God should be in our likeness...agreeable to us.

We want the God we create in our mind to be like us. We want God to be a god who never disagrees with us, but only always gives us a thumbs up.

But what if...track with me for just a few sentences longer...what if it is better that God is more like himself than he is like us? What if there are times when he disagrees with us? What if he desires to reshape us to make us more like Him rather than leave us in the shape we feel good about?

How about last thoughts on this and you can go back to your life: Do we want a God who agrees with us on everything? Or do we want our God who loves us enough to tell us where were wrong?

I am grateful for a God who shows people grace by revealing that he is different than we want him to be. 

Shame City (Part Three: Fully Exposed)

Shame City (Part Three: Fully Exposed)

It is Like “Naked and Not Ashamed”, but Just “Naked”. 

The first two summers we lived here we got “caught” at the Fremont Solstice parade. Both times we were traveling from one place to another and got in the flow of traffic that pushed us towards the event. No, really, it was an accident! I swear!

The event has a very Edenic-quality about it. People sans the burden of clothing, soaking in the sun on their bikes while publicly proclaiming “I am not ashamed!” It is an echo of those pre-fall days that I believe is hard-wired into our soul: we weren’t meant to carry the burden of shame. As uncomfortable as I am with public nudity, especially my own, I do see something both helpful and telling about it: we have a desire to be radically and joyfully unashamed. Even though a culture of shame is normal to us, even though we cannot fully imagine a world without pervasive shame, even though we can’t understand our own lives without shame, we still hold on to hope that we might be free of it.

The parade is a celebration of a lot of things, I’m sure, but it is also a revelation that we still long to be fully exposed-with no reason to hide. 

He [Paradeth] Too Much, Me Thinks

But declaring ourselves unashamed is not enough to rid us of the shame. The reason to hide is still buried deep in us, so deep that the purifying rays of sunlight cannot reach no matter what we are wearing. The same people who will throw off their clothes on Saturday morning will replay their shame-filled memories in the quiet dark of their Saturday night.

It is in those quiet, undistracted moments that the shame reminds us it is there, but that it can be dealt with. Many people are unaware that this kind of “darkness” dwells in them.  Many of those that are aware of their darkness have coping tools to stuff it down further. Because silence and solitude help draw out the poison, we run from both. Better to either run from it or declare it isn’t there.

It takes courage to feel it. It takes courage to look deep into the reality of what God’s Spirit wants us to see in ourselves. It takes courage to feel it honestly. It takes courage to let it affect us so deeply that we are allowed to see that we really do need help. It takes courage to ask for that help.

Adam and Eve sinned against a Father who loved them. It was shocking betrayal. They hid behind leaves, behind trees, and behind the guilt driven belief that it was someone else’s fault, not their own. But, they really couldn’t hide. The same eyes that revealed the fierce love of the Father was also a deep-seeing gaze from the eyes of a Searcher. Their God could see through the leaves and the trees and the blaming into the very root of who they were. He could see the heart they tried to hide.

This is why it takes courage. We are all exposed every minute of our existence. The same God who sees all our actions sees all of the desires, loves, and beliefs that fuel those actions. He sees it all. Every bit of it. The question is: how will he respond? Fierce judgmentalism? Passive aggressive back-turning? Adding more shame?

It takes courage to not run away from him (and ourselves) in terror.

Where Courage Comes From

Adam and Eve hid, but God did not allow them to stay hidden. He exposed them. He brought them out of the shadows. The light of a Holy God’s scrutiny had to burn. Exposure always does. But it is here that he shows his real character. He does something strange: he takes an animal or two off to the side, kills it, and creates clothing for them. He covers their shame.

He doesn’t use their vulnerability to crush them, but heals them. He covers them. He starts the process of restoring all that was lost. Our courage doesn’t come from our own weakened moral resources, but the experienced understanding that God’s desire is to redeem, not reject. To wipe clean not wound. To come to us in our shame, embrace us like a son who came home after a shameful life, and put his own best clothing on us. (See Luke 15:11-32)

We can be exposed knowing that the one who sees all of us will redeem us.

Taken Outside of the Shame City For Shame City

Jesus came to a shameful city. Everything that happens in our city happened in Jerusalem during his time. People walked the streets with their heads down too far or their heads up too much. Pride was a poor covering then too. The weight we carry on us now they carried on themselves then.  We aren’t all that much different.

Jesus could see shame better than anyone else could. He never sinned so he never had his own shame, but he felt the shame of those who he lived among.

The most shameful thing that could happen to a male in first century Israel was for him to be publicly exposed. He would not have willingly chosen to be naked, but they stripped him down to prepare him for his execution. 

His presence and his words exposed their darkness, all they frilly wanted to hide. The guilt and shame of Shame City compelled them to try to hide one more time by getting rid of the one who exposed them. They tried to hide behind a tree by exposing Jesus on one.

But, when Jesus was most humiliated, most exposed, he revealed more than his nakedness: he revealed the depth of his own desire to free them. As he carried our shame by being publicly shamed he exposed the world to the truth that he is not a God who delights in humiliating people who deserve it, but he heals us. He covers us. He starts the process of restoring all that was lost in us.

The Cross Exposes Jesus for Who He Really Is: a God Who Will be Shamed on our Behalf.

The more we understand that truth, the more we have courage to let him draw our shame out of us. The more we comprehend Jesus' motivation the more we will trust him not to shame us. The more I understand his heart, the more I will let him heal a man that deserves condemnation, but needs grace.

I am not ashamed of the gospel because the gospel is the power of God to steal away my shame.

Shame City (Part Two: The Fig Leaf of Pride)

Shame City (Part Two: The Fig Leaf of Pride)

What an Empty Stomach is Full Of

I was in Beijing a few years ago with a small group of people, seeing the sites in China’s capitol and getting ready to get on a plane back to our American comforts. China, not unlike many other countries, is known for its street vendors  that cook and serve all kinds of- let’s call them “unique”- foods. So, walking around the government district near our hotel, we sought out street food for dinner. There had to be something we would enjoy…or at least meats too interesting to pass up.

That’s when we found it: a part of the sheep I didn’t think it was even legal to eat. It was expensive and we double dog dared the youngest of our group to eat it. (Yep, double dog dared!) We bought it, he “chewed” it, and- after a time of trying- he then gave up on it. Threw it in the trash bin behind him with disgust as the rest of us laughed at how he was a sucker for trying that “part.”

As we turned to leave, I noticed a man and a 2 year old child walking past that same trash bin. What we threw away wasn’t even cool yet. Head down and without any hesitation, he took the chewed meat out of the trash and put it in the cart he was pushing. It was obvious that he was used to picking up what others had thrown away. His demeanor told me everything I needed to know. In the seat of power of a “worker’s paradise” where all should be equal and none should go hungry, he lived cleaning up the scraps of others so that he could feed his child.

I watched him go to the next bin and the next, taking what he could find. His shame was so great he knew nothing else and, as I watched him turn the corner, I felt my own shame in not seeing just how many people are around me that live in a world of shame like he does.

Covered Up

That’s the “underdeveloped” world, right? Oppressive communist policies have a part to play in that, but shame is both much more universal and subtle. Our city’s streets have people like the man I saw in Beijing. Without question he lives unnoticed in Seattle too, but most of our shame is not unnoticed, it is merely covered up.

Unlike the man in China, we have strength and resources to push the shame down and triumphantly step on it saying “This will not define me! I will not let it!” All the while, what we stand on seeps into our system as a poison, slowly weakening us from the inside outward.

Our city (and many like it) has an unofficial motto of: “You have no reason to be ashamed!” But, like we talked about before, we all not only have reason to be ashamed (the sin we enjoy and live in), but we all live with a sense of shame.

[Note here: I know that some shame is ours to own and some of our shame is due to something done to us. We need to repent of the sin we treasure that causes us to be shameful and ask for help for the shame that comes because of what was done to us.

Willfully Unnoticed

Yes, people are called “shameless” and some people are more sensitive to it than others, but shame is a universal emotion… an often unarticulated feeling that lies beneath the surface of our everyday thinking. It is always there, shaping the way we think, causing us to shy away when we shouldn’t and draining us of emotional energy that could be used to love other people affectionately. It’s there, whether we like it or not, notice it or not.

We may not show our shame in public by walking with a heavy head, but we betray it in public by raising our heads too high. Over compensating. Not a clear conscience, but a conflicted “confidence.”

We Mask Our Shame with Pride.

If this, at first, sounds like a condemnation of a particular community, please know that it isn’t. This is a description of every community. We all do this. We all live with shame that we don’t know what to do with. We scramble for fig leaves and hide behind trees. In western culture, the most common way to deal with shame is not to courageously look at the root of it to kill it, but to turn our back on it and defiantly say we have triumphed over it.

We celebrate what is evil and harmful in order to deny the shame. We work hard to be “good people” (or at least better than someone else) in order to tell ourselves that we are really not what we honestly believe ourselves to be. We try to exercise it away or meditate it out, but it lingers. 

The “right” position at the company can try to mask the shame. The “right” way to parent can try to hide the feeling. Volunteering to help those less fortunate can be a smokescreen in our own souls, concealing shame for a time. Each of those things on their own can be a good thing, but they are also fig leaves that dry up eventually and never really cover what we want to hide. It is a lot of hard work NOT dealing with the real issue.

The Question that Haunts When We Are Honest

I woke up this morning, fearful of being ashamed. I mean, deeply fearful. Desperate to not be seen as foolish or a fraud. Even as I type these words, I know what it means to carry shame. And, I know what it means to want it all to go away.

If living with the shame is not healthy and burying it with self-righteous pride is destructive, then what can we do?!!

Shame City (Part One: The Hard Part)

Shame City (Part One: The Hard Part)

Its that dream that everyone seem to share. You know the one. The dream where we remembered everything for the big presentation at work except our clothes. Yep, we have all had a dream like that. The feeling of being, not only exposed, but ashamed of being exposed. 

There there are things that happed while awake that we wish we could wake up from. Things from which the shame doesn’t dissipate as the alarm goes off. Those thing we never want exposed. Things that we would like to bury and never see again.

Ugh, if I never feel that feeling again, I will be alright. But, the reality is that shame is a common experience for all of us. As a matter of fact, we often live in shame in such a way that we do not notice it. A constant fear of being exposed to the world, to ourselves, and (if we are honest) to a God who sees it all.

Sitting at a coffee shop with a couple of friends from out of town recently, we discussed what I see in our city- the deep needs, the things we celebrate. We discussed the things that make Seattle unique compared with other cities; not just the industry, geography, and demographics, but what motivates us and what are our assumptions about life that flavor the way we think.

What I told them is that I believe that Seattle (among other things) is a city of Shame. It is hard to explain that without being among the crowds of people and hearing what they have to say, but I believe it to be true.

We Shame Because We Are Ashamed

Sometimes it is overt shaming. It is one homeowner taking another homeowner’s plastic cup out of their trash (should be in recycling, you know!) and not putting it where it should go, but pinning it up on a common wall to display it.  If that wasn’t enough, the “righteous recycler” pinned a note that stated the offending party (their name and address were found in the same bag of trash) and their recycling “sin.”

Yep, that really happened.

Sometimes it is subtle. It is the look in someone’s eyes as they walk down the street either with their head held low or their head held too high. One expresses shame by studying every crack of the sidewalk and never making eye contact with another person. The other doesn’t make eye contact either, but holds his head up so high that he portrays a look of “I don’t care what you think!”  The man protesteth too much, me thinks.

Our Mantra is Myopic

I see a lot of heads held way too high. Uncomfortably too high. And that often comes from a slogan our city lives by... even if we don't use the words: “You have no reason to be ashamed!”

I understand that to some degree. There are many different types of Scarlet Letters that we give each other to wear and those letters weigh us down. A man with his head hung low is obviously carrying the weight of the Letter. He is burdened by either what he has done or what has been done to him. The man with his head held too high (both literally and metaphorically) still carries the weight of his Letter of shame, but he carries a greater burden with it: the burden of hiding its existence.

The truth is that we have reason to be ashamed. We all have reason, because we have all sinned. That is an inescapable truth, even if we desperately want to escape it. There is very real shame that was forced upon us that is not our fault. We are, in a sense, all victims of someone else’s sin. But it is just as true that we are all perpetrators too. It is the perpetrator's shame that we will focus on here.

The Source of Shame

This is primal knowledge. We all know it, feel it, live it, even if we don’t understand it. It goes back further than we can remember. There is a sense that we were born with it and with our first breaths of air we breathed it in. It came from our first parents and we have followed their lead.

In Genesis chapter 3, we see the first acts of rebellion against God. Before they ate of the fruit, Adam and Eve were naked and…NOT ashamed! There is something pure about that time. Something we long for because they were completely exposed with nothing to hide. No stain or blemish on their record. Then, they were allured by forbidden fruit that seemed more delightful than the God they enjoyed fellowship with. Their eyes were opened to their foolishness and betrayal. They saw darkness in themselves. They saw ugliness whereas there had only been beauty and holiness before. 

So, rather than owning up to it and letting the light of God’s holiness cleanse them, they retreated to the shadows of the trees. They hid themselves in shame. They experienced the weight of emotion they were never meant to carry. Light hearted joy devolved into heavy hearted shame. They pasted together some fig leaves to cover themselves, but they still needed the trees to hide them from each other and the God they betrayed.

Still More Fig Leaves

So, we continue to find fig leaves and trees to hide behind. Nudists try to bring Eden back by fighting for a society that can be naked in public, but it is not clothing that is the issue. It is that the part of us that we want to cover cannot be covered by clothes because the most shame-filled part of us is the heart of greed, and lust, and self-absorption, and “I-will-show-you-how-good-I-really-am-ness” that flows out of that heart in all we do. We cannot hide that.

Worst of all, we shame other people in order to say to ourselves “At least I am not as bad as the guy who throws away plastic cups in the regular garbage!” That may be true, but it misses the point.

We tell each other “You have no reason to be ashamed!” but that sentiment (though good intentioned, I hope) is nothing but a fig leaf. My city lives in shame. It is the air we breathe. It is the weight we carry.

Thankfully, this is not the whole story…more to come.

God's Movement in the Unspectacular

God's Movement in the Unspectacular

The people of God (his Church) is the visible expression of his movement in the world. We are what he is doing to make his world right again, beautiful again.

Along those lines, Mark Sayers says this: 

"Slowly spilling out, across the [Roman] empire, one life at a time, a rumbling, rolling revolution was breaking out. It did not happen in the spotlight, it was not thrilling or spectacular- at least in the way that the pagan mind understood it. It seemed to exist in the dark, underground places; in the quietness of rooms, catacombs, and the ordinariness of life. Yet there was nothing ordinary about it."

Mark Sayers, Facing Leviathan: Leadership, Influence, and Creating in a Cultural Storm, pg 20

Father in heaven, bring your kingdom. All you want, here.