Being Dangerous

Too long have followers of Jesus settled for religious compliance and inoffensive comportment. Too long have rank and file Christians delegated the dangerous life of following Jesus to the professionals, believing them best suited for the radical engagement with the world that Jesus models. Too long have we believed that the highest goal of Christianity is conforming people to good behavior, getting folks to follow the rules, making people nice.
Now is the time to raise our danger quotient.
Now is the time for us to move from bland church drones into followers of the living Christ who are potent for the purposes of God and a mortal threat to the enemy of our souls (Sellers, 2012, p. 1)

In my journey of restructuring my life into a community (extended-family) on mission, I've started reading the book fresh off the press, entitled: The Dangerous Kind by Graeme Sellers. It's a book that I've been waiting a while for, and it's been well worth the wait. Being the dangerous kind of Christian has been a key message of my friend Graeme, and the timely print of his words are resonating along side of where the Lord has been leading me. He writes,

For years most of our Christian activity has been church-centered, and our service to God was weighed by how much we did on behalf of our local fellowship. We've contented ourselves with being somewhat moral, going to church, and helping our church become more successful. This is a far cry from being dangerous. Our understanding of God's activity and call must expand beyond the wall of the local church. Becoming dangerous entails moving from church to kingdom in our thinking and acting (p. 5).

Western Christianity has been built on an interventional mentality of church, where the clergy mediates on behalf of the church - a far cry from the invitation of the carpenter from Nazareth. Rather, the incarnational approach is what we're invited into. Where we ragamuffin humans are beckoned into an adventure of carrying the Good News of Jesus the Christ into a hurting, broken, and often cynical world. The mission can't only be only for the church professional - it be belongs to the Church - every body in the Body. He goes on,

In these days having excellent ministry skills is not enough. Attending conferences, reading books, and holding 24-hour prayer meetings are insufficient. All of these can be helpful, but none are adequate for the task at hand. The task is dangerous living, existing from the radical missional call of Christ, risking everything for the sake of the King who called us out of the darkness into his marvelous light. It is a hazardous enterprise because we do not go forward unopposed (p. 5).

And that is the invitation.

Now don't worry, I'm not going to blog every chapter. Graeme's words may show up this week, though, as I make my way through the book. I do recommend the book, though. It's time for the Church to be the good kind of dangerous instead of the bad. Dangerous to the Enemy and ignited to make an unyielding incarnational proclamation of the Kingdom of God. To see His Kingdom come and His will be done...

Reference:
Sellers, G. (2012). The Dangerous Kind. AZ: Createspace Independent Publishing Platform.

Community: the red pill, part six

Love is neither sentimental nor a passing emotion. It is the recognition of a covenant, of a mutual belonging. It is listening to other, being concerned for them and feeling empathy with them. It is to see their beauty and to reveal it to them. 

It means answering their call and their deepest needs. It means feeling and suffering with them - weeping when they weep, rejoicing when they rejoice. Loving people means being happy when they are there, sad when they are not. It is living in each other, taking refuge in each other. 'Love is a power for unity', says Denys the Areopagite. And if love means moving towards each other, it also and above all means moving together in the same direction, hoping and wishing for the same things. Love means sharing the same vision and the same ideal. So it means wanting others to fulfill themselves, according to God's plan and in service to other people. It means wanting them to be faithful to their own calling, free to love in all the dimensions of their being (Vanier, 1989, pg. 56).

I want community. Once I noticed (first hand) that there were groups/organizations that were teams but not communities, and others which were communities but not teams. I naturally thought that I wanted to find the situation that was both: a team and community. Well, eventually I think I learned that, really, there were just healthy and unhealthy communities. A healthy community is going to be a team. I've experienced some communities that operated so tightly in their hierarchy that Calling 'mobility' was difficult: it was more about filling a need in the organization. On the other spectrum, I've experienced communities so 'egalitarian' that they were inefficient and the glass ceilings that they faced where due to to the inability to define common vision and move forward in a way that strategically fulfilled the mission of the ministry.

The vision that I've hungered for is a community that wasn't about the need/outreach, but more about being a community that encourages its members to be all that God made them to be. That while mission happens, its really about growing in being people of integrity, character, and calling. It's really about being and becoming more like Christ. That's where I'm investing myself right now, and in the process, God is renovating me as a leader, and (further) defining me as His son; or rather, He's deepening my revelation of Him as my Father.

Thought: "Community" is mentioned once in the New Testament, in the book of Acts. Instead, "family" is mentioned more in regards to the body of Believers. In the Old Testament, "community" is mentioned a lot. Could it be that we see much more mention of "community" in the Old Testament, due to it being written to tribes/families, while the New Testament was written to groups and sects of Israelites scattered throughout the, then, Roman Empire, and who needed to learn how to be a family again. That's kind of the social context that I sense from the text. So, when I say "community," really what I'm describing is being a Christ-shaped-extended family. 

So, maybe just like Israel and the early church needed to be reminded to be community and extended family, how much more do we in individualistic U.S. need the exhortation? To pry our finders off of
our comforts, preferences, and remind us that we're on a mission.

The tool for my individualistic detox is the Bible, and friends willing to rethink what it means to be Christians in America. We're investing in being a missional community, which is not a trendy new thing. We're not the first ones to do it, but we're just shifting our lives to live out loving Jesus, each other, and our neighbors - as parents, and spouses, and friends. Mike Breen wrote it like this:

We’ve lost the extended family and we’ve lost the oikos on mission. (Oikos being the Greek word used in the New Testament for “households” that refers to the extended families existing as households on mission for the first 300 years of the life of the church).
What we are doing with Missional Communities (20-50 people acting as an extended family on mission together) is constructing an oikos that helps us understand what the NT church did and how it did it. It’s a cocoon where we learn all of the necessary skills so that we can be an oikos and be a family on mission. Missional Communities aren’t the end goal. They are the vehicle that gets us back to the original thing. MC’s serve as the racetrack where we can get to know this foreign thing before we take it back full force onto the streets, which will take some time (Breen).

So, here's to community. Here's to moving towards each other. Here's to moving together in the same direction. Here's to hoping and wishing for the same things. Here's to sharing the same vision and the same ideal. Here's to Jesus defining us as we take risks, and chase after Him.

Reference:
Breen, M. (2011). The Future of Missional Communities. From URL: http://weare3dm.com/mikebreen/we-are-3dm/the-future-of-missional-communities/
Vanier, J. (1989). Community and Growth. Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press.

Simply simple: part two of simple: the red pill, part five

Quaker sociologist, and warrior of peace, Elise Boulding once said:

“Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language, and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and enjoying. The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having things.”

After writing more complexly about simplicity, I thought I should let the pendulum fall the other way, so that I don't lose the few faithful readers that may show up at my blog from time to time. :-) Here's to all four of you! jk

Sometimes the truly simple and meaningful life is a rather complex one, as I have mentioned. That in the process of becoming simple, the journey is forged by the refinement of our heart becoming broken by injustices, making us shed the meaningless for the enduringly meaningful. And in this case (maybe all cases) that 'meaningful' is Christ. Sometimes the answer is simply Christ. An answer that, as I have mentioned previously (via Manning's The Boy Who Cried Abba), raises a million new questions.  But forgetting about the other questions, what about the answer? The answer that has led many throughout history to live meagerly, in lives of service with impacts that were anything but meager. Those who touched lives that we'll never see. Why? Jesus. The answer was simple enough.

Or how about the hot day by the lake. Maybe it was an hour or so before lunch. Maybe John was untangling nets for the next run out on the sea. Maybe he was pushing through the stickiness of the sweat on his inner elbows while trying to bury his feet in the sand so that it didn't hurt so much as he was standing bear foot on the baking ground. And as all this was going through his head, maybe he looked up and saw that Rabbi, Jesus from Nazareth. The man who he heard speak so eloquently and clearly, came up to him (smelly and all), and He said, "Follow me." And that was it. Because that was enough for John. Jesus was enough for John.

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

When Jesus is the answer, it seems that the things the world offers us to medicate ourselves with just aren't as attractive. Frugality is actually enjoyable when your life is being directed purposefully toward reflecting Christ.

Just a thought...well, a few thoughts

Simply Complex: the red pill, part four

As a Christian, I yearn for simplicity. Simplicity can be such a foreign concept to (even) Christians in our western culture. I remember one time when I was in a room full of people when I shared how Richard Foster's book Freedom of Simplicity was like a cup of cool water to me. And by the looks I got, I must have had something coming out of my nose when I said it.

::The Rabbit Trail::

Now, I know I reference Wendell Berry in reference to being anti-technology, but that's not all you can get out of his writing. True, he is non-conformist, and some would probably view him as being overly anti-technology. As a farmer, he idealizes a world less connected to energy corporations. His wife types his manuscripts on a type-writer, and he does the majority of his writing during the day to avoid using too much electric light. I'm not quite on the level of Mr. Berry...not by a long shot. I use a computer. I have an iphone. The majority of my reading is done on my Kindle out of convenience. But I need Berry. I think we all need the 'radicals' who are willing to live out their convictions, because regardless if we agree or not, the bravery of it all resonates in us and encourages us to be more radical, even if that just means searching for simplicity. In an interview, Wendell Berry pointed out:

Simplicity means that you have brought things to a kind of unity in yourself; you have made certain connections. That is, you have to make a just response to the real complexity of life in this world. People have tried to simplify themselves by severing the connections. That doesn't work. Severing connections makes complication. These bogus attempts at simplification ignore or despise the real complexity of the world. And ignoring complexity makes complication—in other words, a mess (Smith, 1993).

Well said, my radical farmer friend, well said. Now, Berry has much to say about the economy and global resources...and that's actually the context of this quote. The point being of course, that if we have a complex problem, then our answer and process will be complex. It doesn't work to sever ties in the name of simplicity. So then, flipping the positive and negative in the simple/complex word relation isn't helping...but my point is that simple is not easy.

::Simple Complexity...or Complex Simplicity::

Hopefully, I'll connect my thought process here...

At one point in my life, I would go through my house and un-clutter, and really get rid of anything that did not benefit my spiritual walk. While it would make me feel better, after awhile I just realized that it was a waste of money. It was pious, but misguided. I think it did count, though. It was part of the journey. However, I was responding to conviction, but not to the root of Jesus being my all. So, months would go by, and similar clutter would fill my life. But as I've grown, I've found that when certain parts of you are refined by the Refiner, you just stop caring about the things that have the potential of cluttering life. Maybe that's what Jesus was getting at when He said,

"Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you (Matthew 6:31-33).

The anxiety isn't relieved by letting go of our means of subsistence, but by taking up and internalizing the truth that we live for another Kingdom, and for a King who knows how to take care of us. It's amazing how much more efficient we are for the Gospel when we're living out of Kingdom-seeking simplicity. Our 'just response' to the 'real complexity of life in this world' is unabashedly Christ first. And the truthful observation is that sometimes a just response to the real complexity of this world can end up, manifestly, being a really complex thing. That is, before the pruning, when we come to grips with the affect of the world's complexity resulting in many atrocities and injustices, we come to a kairos moment (a defining moment of decision). A choice must be made to act on a conviction or to not act.

Finally, the tensions that I'm learning to live with (still), are what Foster indicated in Freedom of Simplicity (1981).

1. What we do does not give us simplicity, but it does put us in the place where we can receive it. It sets our lives before God in such a way that he can work into us the grace of simplicity. 
2. The paradox of Christian simplicity is that it is both easy and difficult.
3. Simplicity is an inward reality that can be seen in an outward lifestyle. We must balance.
4. The material world is good...but it is a limited good. To deny its goodness is to be an ascetic, to deny its limitation is to be a materialist.
5. Our journey into simplicity will be as intricate, varied, and rich aas human personality itself...the attractive ability to be single-hearted and at the same time sensitive to the tough, complex issues of life (pgs. 9-12).

So I'm learning. Especially as I'm journeying into Missional Community, and what it looks like to be a family on mission. "Light-weight and Low-maintenance" is the way we put it. Maybe forming a family of simplicity is another way to say it.

Reference:
Fisher-Smith, J. (1993). Field Observations: An interview with Wendell Berry. Retrieved from http://arts.envirolink.org/interviews_and_conversations/WendellBerry.html 

Foster, R. (1981). Freedom of Simplicity. NY: HarperPaperbacks.

A Spiritually Hungry Introvert with a Yearning for Simplicity and a Call to Living in a Jesus Shaped Community: the red pill, part one

I'm hungry for God, and to see Him made manifest through my life.

I'm an introvert. I love people, but too much interaction tires me out and leaves me comatose...or at least grumpy.

I am forever in search of simplicity. However, to avoid having to explain it to people, I call it "efficiency," or some other 'cover.'

And I want to be a part of a Body that will lay down their lives to be Jesus followers. Not Jesus fans. Fans die out when it's not popular. Jesus wants followers. (We see an example of this in John 6:60-71)

Maybe it's time for a contemplative series.

I think I'll call it "The Red Pill." When on vacation, I stayed up late one night watching The Matrix - a true classic. The red pill, of course refers to when the character Morpheus was challenging the hero, Neo, to his destined adventure, when he said, "This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes." We're created for another world, not one of cyber-friendships, technological clutter, and self-seeking religion (self-righteousness). While I realize that this all seems very Wendell Berry-ish, I'm not trying to be anti-technology (after all, I'm typing on a computer and posting it to the world-wide-web, where it will be suspended in word oblivion to be read by a few wandering and probably bored strangers). The fact of it is that we humans just seem to habitually crave the fleeting over the eternal out of convenience, or laziness...or maybe fear.

I believe in this moment Jesus Christ invites us, "Come follow Me..." The moment is now.

Let's take the red pill.

Good Friday

Jesus didn’t go to the cross so we wouldn’t have to. He went to the cross so we could join him there. - Dallas Willard

Last night we had some friends over to sit, have wine, have bread and talk about Jesus. Very informal. We had the movie The Gospel of John playing in the background, and during that time we talked about our favorite Jesus account. One thing turned to another in the conversation and somehow we ended up talking about suffering. It got me thinking, because as we talked I found that a distinction needs to be made in the way we think about suffering.

On one hand there is the distortion of sanctification through suffering, that it is the process of suffering that makes me holy. Daily looking for a (physical) 'martyr's death'/suffering, or even (as we see in some traditions) causing oneself meaningless physical pain. Meaningless, that is, in that it is disconnected to the situation that causes the suffering to be in witness for Christ: i.e. whipping oneself.

On the other hand, suffering is a part of the Christian life, because it was a part of Christ's. We can't avoid it...well, we shouldn't avoid it. Granted, it seems that (especially in the West) we have come up with a doctrinal way of thinking in order to avoid it, but "no servant is great than his master" and if they hated Christ, they will hate us. Of course, this suffering isn't self-inflicted, but rather out of submission to Christ. It is not our suffering that sanctifies, but Christ who makes us holy. But we don't need to look for the suffering. If we are following Christ it will find us.

Finally, with these things considered, this B.C. cartoon has been floating around:

"Thank you, Jesus, for Your sacrifice. Teach me how to sacrifice too. Teach me how to love like You. Let my life be like a love song that You sing to the world, through me."

A Place to Be Human: Meditations on community part five

As a worship leader, I want to lead others in being authentic; because I believe that when we are authentic and real (with God and each other), our worship is authentic. I fully believe that our identity as Believers is tied up in and defined by Who God is and what He's done. At the same time, I believe that only when we are willing to come to God as humans in our sin and humanity, broken, needy, and honest, is there 'worship in spirit and truth' (John 4:23). There is the 'real truth' of God that needs to break through the false truths of how we define ourselves based on our shame and brokenness, or our self-righteousness. Every week, every worship set, every day I find myself awaking to a grey and skewed version of what creation 'ought' to be, to this place that needs a Savior, and needs new mercy...possibly even more than it did yesterday.

Brennan Manning touched this deeply throughout his Ragamuffin Gospel (1990), a snippet is seen here:

The prayer of the poor in spirit can simply be a single word: Abba...In this sense, there is no such thing as bad prayer. A third characteristic of the tilted-halo gang [ragamuffins] is honesty. We must know who we are. How difficult it is to be honest, to accept that I am unacceptable, to renounce self-justification, to give up the pretense that my prayers, spiritual insight, tithing, and successes in ministry have made me pleasing to God! No antecedent beauty enamors me in His eyes. I am lovable only because He loves me (p. 83).

And in that place He bears our shame, our false self, and sees us (somehow) as who we 'ought' to be. He sees Jesus. "Somehow," that is. I don't know how exactly, but He does it. And Christ becomes our 'true' (actual) self in His eyes. Hallelujah. And because it is truly grace, we can count on it, as we pray for Him to make that revelation true and enduring to (and in) our hearts.

Back to community. Being a place for ragamuffins clothed in Christ, I believe, is essential. My friend Mike's life message is: "being a safe place." Being a 'safe place' can at first seem slightly subjective to varying perspectives (how one defines 'safe'), but in this sense I believe that 'being a safe place' is to be a place that allows the walls come down: walls of self-righteousness, of weakness, of brokenness, and even apathy. A safe place to say "yes, I am part of the grey, skewed, world that I woke up inside of today...and I need a savior (the Savior)."

In his book Life Together (1954), Bonhoeffer wrote:

The final break-through to fellowship does not occur, because, though they have fellowship with one another as believers and as devout people, they do not have fellowship as the undevout, as sinners. The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous. So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy. The fact is that we are sinners 

But it is the grace of the Gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner that you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone. "My son, give me thine heart" (Prov. 23:26). God has come to you to save the sinner. Be glad! This message is liberation through truth (p. 110-111).

Being a 'safe place' is to be a place of the grace of the Gospel, that realistically approaches the Throne of Grace (Hebrews 4:16) as a Body and says corporately and in confidence: "We need Your mercy, Lord. We are in need, Lord. Abba!" And I've found that taking this message (of unconditional love), to a world of conditional love is powerful. To embody that testimony of such a love (while being honest in our failures of carrying that love perfectly), I believe, is hopeful and contagious. There is joy there. When we come to the point where we realize we don't have to perform, but be honest and laugh and cry.

The LORD your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing (Zeph. 3:17)

Reference:
Bonhoeffer, D. (1954). Life Together. NY: Harper Row, Publishers.
Manning, B. (1990). The Ragamuffin Gospel. OR: Multnomah Books.

Authentically living: Meditations on community part three

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” - Jesus the Christ (John 13:34-35)

It's no wonder, and is a beautiful fact, that Christianity is done in community. True, there are hermits, and those on the fringe who feel called to abandon themselves in the place of solitude and singularity of one-on-one communion with the Lord. However, I believe that is more the exception than the rule. Christianity, I believe, is meant to be lived out in community with one another because humanity is meant to be lived out with one-another. True, this complicates things. This means I must bear my humanity (good and bad) with you, as I accept you for who you are. In time, (in our walk with Christ) we will see the ugliness in each other, and in that place we must learn to see the beauty in each other and point each other towards that; because the Holy Spirit in us is always beautiful, regardless of what is being purified.

Vanier wrote in "Community and Growth":

The more a community grows and puts down roots, the more it must discover its own deep meaning and own philosophy of life, which cannot be cut off from the fundamental questions of the world and of the Church. The more it lives authentic human relationships, and the more it becomes a place to live in rather than a gathering of 'doers', the more it must find answers to the fundamental questions of human life. It must give meaning to suffering and death, to healing and to wholeness, to the place of man and woman in society and in the world, and sexuality, family and celibacy. It must be clear about the use of power, the role of authority, and about the meaning of growth to freedom and responsibility. It must have a deep sense of the place of God, prayer and religion in human existence. It must have a vision about poverty and wealth, and clarity about the relationship between love and competence (p. 112).

I'm learning that community doesn't work as an amoebic gobbly gook of no authority, relativistic truth, and mixed philosophies of how to live in community. As tempting as egalitarian community may be, I'm starting to see how it will truly fall apart without loving, relational authority, enduring foundational truth (found in Christ and the Word), and shared values of how to live together. There can be discussion on these topics, and on how they're best lived out, but there must be a strong foundation, or else the community will crumble.

Definitive Prayer: Meditations on Community Part Two

Discipleship is crucial to the life of the Church/Christianity. But crucial to discipleship is a culture of prayer. I do believe that being a "house of prayer [for all nations]" is an underlying identity of the Church. My experience with the (primarily) program driven church in the U.S. is that true discipleship is rare. I mean we have Bible studies, small groups, and meetings, but intentionally coming together for learning how to do Jesus-stuff is often not done. I've even experienced outreach efforts without intercession for those who are intended to be reached. Now, my goal isn't to complain. My goal is to point out, encourage, maybe even confess :-) We must abandon to Christ if we want to experience all He has for us individually, with one-another, and those not (or some, not yet) in the family of Faith.

"Our Father"
I am so blessed that the Lord stoops low, so low in His love, that He chooses us, redeems us, calls to us, and beyond every interaction that we have recorded (or may hope to record), He goes even further to reveal that He is "Father" above all else. Not judge, not cosmic teddy bear, not transcedental buddy-o-pal, but our intimate Father.

"Thy Kingdom Come"
"Jesus, 'Thy Kingdom Come,' not mine. And in a world where Your Kingdom has only partly come, let it draw closer today. Let it draw closer than ever. Open my eyes to see You reveal it. I want to partner with Your heart. Rabbi, teach me. Father, let Your holiness invade this world through little ol' me, and Holy Spirit purify, counsel, and lead me - not where I go naturally, but where You would take me."

"Give us this day our daily bread"
"Father, please provide. Give me eyes to see the difference between my wants and my needs. And please give me a posture of giving."

"...and forgive us...as we forgive..."
Contemplative and social-activist Thomas Merton wrote:

"Remembering that I have been a sinner, I will love You in spite of what I have been, knowing that my love is precious because it is Yours, rather than my own. Precious to You because it comes from Your own Son, but precious even more because it makes me Your son." 

I have witnessed (and been a part of) religion that seems to be founded on guilt and shame. Unless the identity of a loving, kind, completely just, and completely merciful Father is the foundation of our belief, then getting to the part about sin is frightening. Unless that foundation is set, confession will be primarily fear based, and reconciliation may not genuinely happen. There are calls to repentance and there are absolutions, but even after forgiveness may be declared, shame can remain. I'm started to pray freedom in this portion of the Lord's Prayer. "Lord, forgive me where I've fallen, and free my heart to forgive others."

"...and lead us not into temptation...deliver us from evil..."

Evil is a waste of time. I mean, true, this tension of good and evil is a good tool for purification, but I'm finding that the more I intentionally live life with urgency, the more I want to run the other way from evil, because life is short. Ephesians 5 says,

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (vs. 15-20).

As a worship leader, I love that the Lord considers singing songs to Him is a wise use of time. ...And being filled with the Spirit, not once but again, and again, and again, and again... My prayer for deliverance from evil is not out of fear. God's grace is stronger than evil, and I know that when I do fall, He is strong enough to pick me up, but the more I experience Him, the more I want to use every opportunity for doing good. I want to continue down the path He leads, because life is short. I want to be a part of His plan - which is eternal.

Amen.

A Living Together Reality: Meditations on Community Part One

A few weeks ago I grabbed lunch with a friend at Red Robin. Munching on Buffalo Chicken Strips we were talking about the churches that we were serving at, and about where the Lord is leading in those place. Community is the word that came up. God has me (and some leadership of our church) parked on that, and what it looks like in discipleship. My friend then mentioned another conversation that he had where the person shared his dislike of the word community: arguing that it is a buzzword, and not found in the New Testament. While "community" is mentioned once in Acts, depending on your translation, the word 'family [of believers]' appears a lot. I'm finding that semantics aside, one of the biggest issues is sociological. Moving past our largely cold -climate culture (task oriented with social customs to close us off to others), to becoming more hot -climate (relationship oriented with social customs embracing inclusiveness of others) (Lanier, 2001). We may call it community in our culture. A more hot -climate culture may call it family. The point is that it moves past the basic protocols of our society and welcomes others into a Kingdom of inclusiveness, of being dangerous for that Kingdom (reaching out to the poor, oppressed and outcast), and we learn how to share life together. It's not just making a new category of friends to fit in a compartmentalized life, but breaking down and shattering barriers that we've set up to keep us 'safe' (or, rather, separate) from the needs of others.

Jean Vanier (1979) wrote:

A community which is just an explosion of heroism is not a true community. True community implies a way of life, a way of living and seeing reality; it implies above all fidelity in the daily round. And this is made up of simple things - getting meals, using and washing the dishes and using them again, going to meetings  - as well as gift, joy and celebration; and it is made up of forgiving seventy times seventy-seven. 

A community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and in thanksgiving as it sets. Community is only being created when they have recognised that the greatness of humanity lies in the acceptance of our insignificance, our human condition and our earth, and to thank God for having put in a finite body the seeds of eternity which are visible in small and daily gestures of love and forgiveness. The beauty of people is in this fidelity to the wonder of each day (p. 109).

The Lord, in His goodness, has put a hunger in me for the Body of Christ to truly be a family of Believers (or community...regardless of the word's buzzyness to some). From as early as I surrendered my life to Christ (the first time), to every surrender (mostly each day) since, 'community' has been an underlying conviction foundational to my life. I've failed at it numerous times, but Holy Spirit has been graciously persistent in bringing me back to it. I'm learning how to be a family member, and I hope that in my places of leadership within the Body, I'll be able to help establish a Kingdom culture of community/family.

Reference:
Lanier, S. A. (2001). “Foreign to Familiar: A Guide to Understanding Hot- and Cold-Climate Cultures.” Hagerstown, MD: McDougal Publishing

Vanier, J. (1979). "Community and Growth." New York: Paulist Press

Whispers of sovereignty: Stacking Stones Part V

Today I've been sitting outside quite a bit (praying, working on my computer, thinking, etc), and I decided that one 'stone' in my Josh 4 memorial is nature. Not just generalized - nature as a concept - nature, but those moments when I get to commune with God. God often speaks to me through nature...not like a 'being one with nature kind of way,' but rather, nature being a sanctuary where my heart and mind can be still, and where I can pause and experience a 'come Lord Jesus' moment (being one with my Creator). God speaks loudly to me in the quiet (which may be paradoxical when put like that), that is, He speaks powerfully in the quiet of nature. Like now, when the soil of life seems to be up-tilled, I sit and hear the wind blowing through the trees, the sound of the leaves creating soothing choruses, while I find rest as creation seems to remind me that the Creator is in control. Or like the pause that gazing at the Milky Way gives me as I breathe in the cool mountain air. It never fails to take my breath away, while it whispers the mighty power of the One Whom I follow. Sometimes it's the Lord's voice that I hear, saying: "I see your heart, I hear your voice, I love you..." In those moments it's not just about noticing the impact of the moment, but the realization that I am noticed...by the most important One: the One who made me, Who desires me, and Who has called me to lose myself in the experience of knowing Him.

So 'stone' number 9 is the revelatory moments (as small as they may have been), where God has grabbed my attention through nature, wooed my attentions and affections, and reminded me who I am and why I do what I do.

Relentless Goodness: Stacking Stones Part IV

"O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, ‘Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away.’ Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long."
— A.W. Tozer

Another experience saturated by the presence of God, and the landmark of what He's done in my life in this past season, has been the birth of my daughter Sarah Clare. Now, as I mentioned in the previous post, we often have a misconception regarding 'redemption' in the western culture. To be more specific, the redemption of God. Redemption is not making up for bad stuff by doing enough good things to compensate for the bad; rather, I am learning that God takes the most tragic circumstances and uses it, and turns it around for good. It is not a waste, but a medium in His redemptive creativity. Like a painter it is a brush stroke in the grand picture of His love and His glory - as illustrated in the lives of those He loves. I realize that from a western mindset, this runs the danger of casting the concept of a sadistic God, but this is not the case. There are things to consider: original sin, the problem of evil, and a God sovereign enough (and with a love strong enough) to give us choice and a will. In the end, Ecclesiastes 3:11 saying, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, He has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end," summarizes the deep truth that we are so small - but have been made for something so great. Even the 'ugly' is made beautiful, and God has created us for eternity yet at the same time our perspectives are so finite that we have trouble seeing past our momentary discomforting 'ugly' situations to see the larger beautiful tapestry that is being woven. So, in essence, the stones (lessons) pulled from this season's riverbed regarding this happenstance are:

1. God is good (period). When tragedy strikes God is good (not in a pop-Christian culture-'God is good all the time, all the time God is good' kind of way, but in a real enduring kind of way).
2. When we trust Him, and abandon to Him...when He is our plan A and B...when He is the Lord Whom we look to and say "Where else could I go?" He is faithful to take the ugly, the ashes, and broken pieces, and make them beautiful.
3. It seems that God is very interested is giving life abundantly (resurrection), but in His wisdom lets us experience the incubators for life abundantly (Gethsemane, crucifixion, and the grave). We must not rush past the tragedy, but hope through the tragedies.

Those are the stones 6, 7 & 8 in my Josh 4 memorial. CLICK HERE for the post that chronicled this event.

Lessons on the front lines: Stacking Stones part III

Probably the biggest stones in my memorial of this season, are related to the loss that we experienced in 2009 with the death of our baby boy Elijah. The documentation of this journey can be followed in the following posts:

An Artist and Lover of God's Take on Grief
Courage
Picking Up the Pieces
Regarding Elijah

Instead of reiterating the journey and the emotions involved, here's what I learned, and they'll be stones in this Josh 4 memorial.

1. It's OK to grieve, cry, and be broken. The grieving process takes...time. You don't just get over holding your lifeless baby in your arms. While people don't understand, as a father it shapes you, it changes you, makes you see life different, and if you hold onto God and your wife through the process, you commune with them both on a level that is indescribable.
2. It teaches you how to set boundaries. Well meaning people offered words that they intended for encouragement, some people we didn't know offered to pray without knowing our story or knowing us...and some just said some stupid things. Part of being a warrior for my family is learning how to set boundaries, be firm in interaction with others, and be assertive spiritually and emotionally. It's OK to say 'no.' Our healing came through people that we know closely 'being Jesus' to us.
3. Jesus really does redeem our brokenness. This is a fact and not just optimism. While I'll go into this further in the next post, the redemption is not just compensating for a broken situation, but it's making the broken piece beautiful. BLESSED are the poor, BLESSED are those who mourn (i.e. Matt 5)...as if to say, 'Blessed are the broken...' This sentiment is upside down from our society, but I'm finding it's right side up for the Kingdom of God.
4. Suffering is OK. Jesus told us we would have trouble, but assured us that His peace would be with us, and that He has overcome the world (Matt 16). One thing I learned in this season is that the Western Church often does not understand suffering. We come up with doctrines to try to escape suffering, resulting in some sort of distortion that implies: 'if you have strong faith, you won't have trials;' however, from what I can see, according to the Word, we won't have strong faith unless we encounter and endure trials.

So, those are stones 2, 3, 4 & 5 (out of 12). These lessons are tough ones. The ground from which I've picked up these stones is 'holy ground.' It's something that I don't talk about lightheartedly or gloss over casually. But they are lessons of the Lord's goodness, and I'm still learning them. I realize that talking about such an intense situation can be a 'downer,' but walking through this 'night,' I've witnessed that the Glory of the Lord is a much brighter light than I thought it was. It's the kind of light that pierces you, and changes you...it transforms you. It doesn't just make you a survivor, it makes you a fighter. I guess that's what hope does...it's not just wishful thinking but a transformative look toward, and fellowship with, the One who "upholds the universe by the word of His power" (Hebrews 1:3).

Josh 4: Stacking Stones

When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the LORD said to Joshua, "Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, and command them, saying, 'Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests’ feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.'" Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. And Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, 'What do those stones mean to you?' then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever." Joshua 4:1-7

I find that little monuments in my life are powerful reminders of the Lord’s faithfulness and a reminder of who I am and called to be. My family is in a big life transition. I’ve recently taken a job with a church in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota. There is excitement and a deep gratitude to the Lord for all He’s brought us through. Just as the Lord commanded Joshua to take 12 stones out of the Jordan to build the monument, I feel that the Lord is inviting me to take the metaphorical stones out of the ‘river’ of my experience, and set them as a monument that I can look back at and say “The Lord did something great here.” To stay on theme, I’ll be focusing on twelve different defining moments all connected to our past 3 ½ years.

For those who have followed my blog during our time on the reservation, this may be review, but the Lord's really been working on/in my heart lately. Today in church we sang "It is Well with My Soul," a song that I believe I can now truly sing after these few years. I think it was Rich Mullins who once said something to the effect of: "Christianity isn't something that you do - it's something that does you." That's how it feels. I've been so blessed, but realize that the greatest blessings are those that have come out of: learning to be poor in spirit, mourning, learning (and still learning) to be meek, hungering, thirsting and aching for God and His way(s), learning mercy, welcoming the purification process instead of trying to avoid it, learning to make peace instead of having my way (still learning), and suffering. Christianity is truly peculiar. I am well aware of the nagging depravity of my human nature, but the mystery that I've experienced is this: that through brokenness, I have found myself more whole than the person I was before...

Hallelujah.

Trust, Part Two: the scars remain

The love of God is not a pastry - it is a meal. Or for that matter, perhaps it is the protein that makes up the food. While fame, money, self-reliance, or the many other things that we fill our lives with, may keep us going, they may substitute but cannot replace the building block for a healthy life. Sometimes western Christianity has a tendency to cast the vibe that the love of God is a garnish to an 'American Dream,' when it is so much more. Journeying beyond calorie induced metaphors, I sense more and more that the love of God is the very air that fills our lungs. Every moment is grace. Frederick Buechner wrote in his book, Wishful Thinking: a seekers abc (1973):

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you (p. 39).

As I walk through the seminary of life and repeat for the 34th time my class on Wilderness 101, one thing I can say is that I know God is good. I've experienced bad things, but know that God is good. The love and grace of God does not mean we won't get wounded, but that God is greater, and the redemption that He will orchestrate (if we let Him) gives beauty for ashes and joy for mourning.

Continuing Brennan Manning's Ruthless Trust (2000) today, I was hit by these sentences:

We are, each and every one of us, insignificant people whom God has called and graced to use in a significant way. In His eyes, the high-profile ministries are no more significant than those that draw little or no attention and publicity. On the last day, Jesus will look us over not for medals, diplomas, or honors, but for scars (p. 48).

I do have a sense (as Manning's words share) that my Beloved King and Lord recognizes my scars as worship:

• Crying out from a cabin in the White Mountains, longing to know God more - in the midst of loneliness and an unknown future.
• Moving to the East Coast with my 'life' packed into a Chevy Cavalier, not knowing anyone.
• Trusting, hoping and crying after getting the call from the hospital knowing that something went wrong with my wife's pregnancy.
• The drive to the mortuary to pick up my son's ashes the day of the funeral.
• The list goes on, but those are big ones...

The fact that Jesus walked through these times with me is hope and grace. I am known, and in ministry, He sees my faithfulness in sharing His love, not necessarily in the outcomes that I can sometimes get so hung up on. Could it be that He pays closest attention to the things that others don't pay any attention to? Affirming a young adult working to get his GED. Praying for the hearts of Jr. Highers to be open to the Gospel. Praying for High Schoolers to make decisions for a healthy future. Or praying every day to be a better husband and father. Or the other things that shall remain in the secret place...maybe that's where the most 'successful' place is: the secret place, where it is truly just you and Jesus. Where the small acts of kindness that you show throughout the day are inside jokes, delights, and victories known only and discussed only with the Creator who slipped under the radar to die for His creation...

Reference:
Buechner, F. (1973). Wishful Thinking: a seeker's abc. NY: HarperCollins
Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God. NY: HarperCollins

Trust, Part One: the lesson we keep learning until we die

To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives- the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections- that requires hard spiritual work. Still, we are only grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would like to remember and those we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fullness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for. Let's not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see in it the guiding hand of a loving God (Nouwen, 1997).

One of the reoccurring reads on my bookshelf is Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God (Manning, 2000). This book was given to me by dear friend Jay the Pauperly Prince (sometimes it's 'Princely Pauper' depending on the day :-) the Christmas of 2000. Jay is a true ragamuffin like me. Every year I find myself back in this book contemplating trust, my life, and how no matter what happens in my life, the issue I return to is trust. For that reason, I've decided that trust is the lesson that we keep learning until we die: literally, and metaphorically spiritually. I do wish that it were one of those things that you just pay your dues on and move on to the next lesson, or 'level' (if the video game metaphors work for you). I've learned that no matter how good my negotiation skills get, I can't seem to convince God that I don't need anymore object lessons on the subject. However, as masochistic as it may seem at times, I am learning to enjoy this 'dance' in the wilderness. Manning writes, "Uncontaminated trust in the revelation of Jesus allows us to breathe more freely, to dance more joyfully, and to sing more gratefully about the gift of salvation" (Manning, 2000, p. 30).

I guess what I'm saying is that it's alright with me. The tragedies that we experience are ok - it hurts, but it's ok. The unknowing, blindfolded existence of following this invisible God, is ok. The result outweighs the momentary discomfort. I have a propensity to make sense of things and to be in control of my future, and realize that those two areas cannot be non-negotiables with me if I claim that Jesus is Lord. I'm learning to surrender in every sense of the word (to yield to the power of another, to give oneself up, etc.). I'm learning how to (as Manning puts it) breathe, dance, and sing, the way that I have been created to. Fortunately, living as a missionary right now, my daily life is an incubator for these lessons, and lately the incubator has been burning so hot that it's been burning out the dross (sorry for the mixed metaphor - I realize that it's slightly paradoxical, since incubators help things grow, and the process of metal purification is to destroy. *destroy impurity, but still. I'm sure you can see that it all works together...).

Finally, Manning wrote:
"To be grateful for an unanswered prayer, to give thanks in a state of interior desolation, to trust in the love of God in the face of the marvels, cruel circumstances, obscenities, and commonplaces of life is to whisper a doxology in darkness" (2000, p. 37).

"So, thank you Abba, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, for every twist and turn, stone and thorn, mountain streams and dried up river beds on this journey. I do believe that it is all worth it considering the Prize. Thank you for whispering Your sweet affections of reckless love toward me this morning. Please, in Your grace, continue to draw me close to You, teaching me to breathe more freely, to dance more joyfully, and to sing more gratefully about Your gift of salvation. Amen."

Reference:
Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God. NY: HarperCollins
Nouwen, H. (1997). Bread for the Journey. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco

Not the end: thoughts on redemption part three

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:
"Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?" 1 Corinthians 15:54-55

Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. Philippians 1:19-21

Grappling with death is one of the inevitabilities of human existence. Every person through history did it, and Jesus even did it. The two verses above are verses that are conceptually embraced by western Christians, however, there is a large disconnect when it comes living like we believe it. The persecuted church gets it, where believers (even in this moment) are being persecuted, harmed, or tortured for their faith. In living it out, they are showing us what it really means to believe those verses.

We need to live for the Kingdom that we claim we belong to. As long as we live for this kingdom and this Age, we’ll try to find ways to have all the blessings of this world and all the benefits of Heaven (i.e. Gnostic Christianity). However, Jesus was all or nothing, and He calls us to be all or nothing. I admit, that’s not a very popular thing to teach today, but, judging from the Gospels, it wasn’t a very popular thing to teach in Jesus’ day either.

This morning we stayed home from church since our 2 weeks and 6 day old daughter is getting this whole living thing worked out (breathing, sleeping, pooping, and eating). As I gave little Sarah her first rundown of the resurrection story, I thought, “Wow, what an existence.” It really is all about Jesus. Eating, breathing, sleeping, living, would be meaningless without the sacrifice and the person of Christ. The cross was the plan from the foundation of the world. Us being with the Father (in love) is the primary purpose of our existence.

Today as I held our little girl Sarah Clare, I remembered the son that we lost: Elijah. We sprinkled his ashes on a hill with three crosses, overlooking the reservation where we work. Today that is a declaration that death is not the end – it has been conquered. In that moment I realize that my heart is starting to grasp the truth of “Death where is your sting” and “to live is Christ, to die is gain.” I have a daughter on this side of Heaven, and a son on the other. There is a fellowship that my wife and I share, “a strength for today, a bright hope for tomorrow.” As a family, our living is done together, and when that day comes where we cross over onto that other shore, it means eternity together. Life means living for the Kingdom of our citizenship now, as strangers in this land (1 Peter 2:11), testifying of the Kingdom of Heaven by the way that we live now.

He has risen indeed!

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatains 2:20

Storms and kicking at the darkness until it bleeds daylight: a meditation on victorious suffering

We are treasured, and our message is that the poor, weak, and marginalized are treasured in the heart of God.

In sensationalistic western Christianity we often undervalue the grit of victorious living (as opposed to the glamour). I realize that that statement butts against idealistic prosperity Gospel, but at the same time is not intended to fuel poverty mentality. The reality is that we are persecuted, but not abandoned. We are struck down but not destroyed. The dangerous kind of Christian is, as my friend Graeme the Buechner-esque ragamuffin put it, “someone who is potent for the purposes of God – being that they are those who will not settle for anything less than the ministry of Jesus (Luke 4:18-19)” (Sellers, 2008), and in our hunger to be Jesus followers (not just talkers) you can bet that the enemy will attack.

We are in a battle. That’s how Paul put it. It is a battle not of flesh, blood, metal, artillery, kilts, or spaceships, rather it’s something much more real. It’s a battle against rulers, authorities, cosmic powers in this present darkness, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12).

Honestly, over the past few weeks the battle has been very evident. It was made real by situations (relational – from those we serve) of feeling attacked. Also, my wife hurt her back, and after her back healed, her leg was in dire pain. Come to find out it is due to a blood clot in her leg. The night she was admitted to the hospital for treatment, our ministry’s youth center got broken into. Something’s up. We can say, “oh, what a coincidence,” and write off the current season as a series of unfortunate events, or we can say, “there is a battle, and there is an enemy who is attacking.” Once that realization is made, we can more assuredly say with the poet Dougie MacLean “I am ready for the storm” (Ready for the Storm, n.d.). I don’t enjoy the storm per se. I’ve just come to understand that it’s a part of the journey. “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16: 33). And being on the same team as the One who overcomes the world (Jesus) does not mean the absence of trouble. It just means that you get to be on the side of the over-comer, and will rise as a “more than conqueror” (Romans 8:37) in spite of struggle. In the words of another poet, Ginny Owens, “But You never said it would be easy. You only said I'd never go alone” (Ginny Owens-If You Want Me To, n.d.).

Thinking of storms makes me think of the great snowstorm of 2010…and Noah. In a toss up extremity, Noah wins out. What a ride he had, and as his family’s pseudo-involuntary Mediterranean-ish cruise came to an end, I’m sure there was relief and fear. But the One that they put their trust in came through…so that, I’m sure, was effective in outweighing everything else. Can you imagine the ending? So finally, the Ark stops floating, and it comes to rest on top of Mount Ararat, and suddenly the last few weeks in the smelly floating zoo doesn’t seem all that bad anymore. The colors of a rainbow are the promise, and making it out of the situation alive is the proof. As contemplative Richard Rohr put it, “Everything Belongs.” Every rain drop, every animal dropping, every tear. It’s not just about us. It’s about us being a part of the purpose. The ride. The story. We are part of the “Everything” that “Belongs,” and so are the tears that we shed in the process of everything else. True, things will never be the same, but there is still rest, because the rainbow and the air filling our lungs reminds us that He’s got it under control.

So in the end, the fact that we’re living in victory on the edge of defeat is not a melancholy stance of an Eeyore Christianty that’s founded on justification by suffering (suffering doesn’t sanctify, but it does mature). At the same time I am not going to separate our spiritual victory from the humanity, which is an inseparable part of it. Sin and death was conquered through Christ’s love, and suffering, and He chose to do it that way. I believe as the Creator He could have done it differently, but He did it that way. To think that we will ride unscathed onto the field of victory is false. The victory field is the same field as the battlefield, and we’ll do ourselves well to remember that. I enjoy victory, and I don’t necessarily enjoy the battle. However, through it all, I do not fight on the battlefield to get to the victory. I do it because I love Jesus, and He is leading the charge, and believe He created me to share in the victory with Him (emphasis on WITH HIM). The battle is already raging, and I will join my commander and King in kicking the darkness until it bleeds daylight (Sellers, 2008). My weapons are the Ephesians 6 weapons, and the strategy is ruthlessly living the character of the fruit of the Spirit, and living an ethic of the values of the Kingdom to which I belong (Matthew 5-7), and all this from the paradigm that I was made for an intimate relationship with my Creator and King. We will kick against the darkness. We might bruise our toes, but the darkness is bleeding, will bleed, and is destined to bleed daylight. We are treasured, and our message is that the poor, weak, and marginalized are treasured in the heart of God. Yes, the darkness is destined to bleed.

Reference:

Ginny Owens-If You Want Me To Lyrics. (n.d.). Retrieved on September 24, 2010, from http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/if-you-want-me-to-lyrics-ginny-owens/2e42fcfec8ed5d4f48256a2d00170a84

Ready for the Storm. (n.d.). Retrieved on September 24, 2010, from http://www.dougiemaclean.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=129:ready-for-the-storm&catid=61:lyrics-r&Itemid=99

Sellers, G. (2008). Retrieved on September 24, 2010, from http://www.allianceofrenewalchurches.org/Audio/The_Dangerous_Kind.mp3

Consumed by the Call(er)

“God Almighty has set before me two great objects, the suppression of the slave trade and the reformation of manners.”
~ William Wilberforce

“Calling is the truth that God calls us to Himself so decisively that everything we are, everything we do, and everything we have is invested with a special devotion, dynamism, and direction lived out as a response to his summons and service.”
~ Os Guinness

“Many people mistake our work for our vocation. Our vocation is the love of Jesus.”
~ Mother Teresa of Calcutta

“And he said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all you mind. This is the great and first commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
~ Jesus Christ (Matthew 6:33)

Lately I’ve been thinking about my “Call”, not because I’m unsatisfied, but because (despite trials) I feel alive in where the Lord has called me. A book that I’ve been reading is actually entitled The Call by Os Guinness. The reading has been very timely for where God has me, and it got me thinking about the dynamics of what life looks like right now. For instance, the question that we often have to filter through our priorities is: “where am I putting my energy?” When we look at the prospect of adding something to our already busy schedule, the reality is that something’s got to give. Something must be set down if we’re going to pick something up. Otherwise we run the risk of our life focus becoming hazy.

So many people go their whole life without finding their “Calling”. And when I say “Calling” I don’t mean the Protestant distortion (as Guinness puts it) that limits it to a secular lifetime vocation, and I also don’t mean it in the Catholic distortion (Guinness again) that limits it to a purely spiritually segregated existence saved for the spiritually elite monks, nuns, pastors, or full-time ministry people. Rather, I mean it in the strong conviction of how I have felt the Lord “mark” me in fulfilling a purpose in my lifetime. Guinness wrote:

“Our primary calling as followers of Christ is by Him, to Him, and for Him. First and foremost we are called to Someone (God), not to something (such as motherhood, politics or teaching) or to somewhere (such as the inner city or Outer Mongolia.

Our secondary calling, considering who God is as sovereign, is that everyone, everywhere, and in everything should think, speak, live, and act entirely for Him.” (Guinness, 2003, p. 31)

The number one priority for us (Marissa and me) is to know the Caller (Jesus); then our secondary calling is what He has called us to do (minister on the Apache reservation). If we put the cart before the horse, then things become unmanageable and unbalanced. With the proper focus we can endure the trials that come with our unique Call.

As Marissa and I have been having a sabbatical/vacation in Atlanta, GA, over the past couple weeks, it has been a time of healing, reflection, spending time in the prayer room, spending time with friends, and even getting some rest :-) The message of being consumed by the Caller of our calling has been paramount for me. True, we’ve given ourselves over to the mission of encouraging, challenging, being available for, and loving the Apache teens. Any part-time work we do is to finance our Calling. My “spare” time is also spent working on a sociology degree. (A task I’ve been very passionate about, out of my hunger to articulate our Call to Native America) I am finding that the more passionate I am about my Caller, the more driven I am to stand in what He has called me to do. In September we took a group of our teens to the One Thing conference that came to Phoenix, and a great point that one of the speakers made was: “Lovers will always out work, out labor, and out serve workers.” This rings especially true for us in this season, where we are passionate about our Caller, our Calling, and this adventure that our Lord has invited us into.

Reference:

Guinness, Os.(2003). The Call: Finding and fulfilling the central purpose of your life. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Regarding Elijah (It is Well With My Soul)