Resist

What's the sight, by TV's light taken in

A man mocking the meek, criminalizing the weak, building a wall to keep the rest in

I remember well a wall that fell, uniting a land

I remember a square, a tank met by a bold stare

youth's voices paired with justice's demands

Now back to your regular scheduled programming

programmed, coded minds, blind to a budget damning the poor the people of color,

all of creation crying for clean air to breathe, enough affordable education to leave.

But the church chimes in, "hey, what about us" "no one can make us move to the back of the bus"

And I don't know what story you've been buying

You aren't in the back of the bus, you've been driving

driving, digging your heels in the ground this way

you're just about to find out you're digging your own grave.

Your idols of certainty and control have taken hold to resurrect an idol of gold

but this fire's too hot, you can't control what's not yours

Can't buy it in your Family Christian Bookstore

You can't earn it by believing the "right" thing, the songs you sing

or kissing the ring of a Pope or a Pastor

A man can only serve one master

Yet, the disaster of our meetings may be averted

before every pew in our flashy temples is deserted.

You've been called to join in, confess your sin, right the wreck

What you believe is what you do, not just facts to be checked.

You participate by joining the fight of resistance to political might

Resist the powers and principalities of this age, with outrage

not raging against the helpless refugee who's underage

Be angered that inner city schools have no books

not the money for healthcare assistance "they" took.

Let your blood boil red, for the innocent dead, from bombs gone astray

not from laws that cause you to bake cakes for "the gays".

Misguided anger is the danger for the church

Woe to you who stew in agitation as you search for an opinion that makes you out as victim

Woe to you who knew those boys in blue were wrong

but your hidden opinion of "the black man" changed your song

Resist the power, resist this hour, your urge for more

Resist the urge to settle the score

The wall's coming down again, not even built but lives in the hearts of men

Tear down the wall, step outside, you may find the god you hide deep within

is without a doubt, outside too, with all of those you fought to keep out.

People of Forgiveness

John 20:21 Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you."

20:22 When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.

20:23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."

This verse from the Gospel of John was in one of our lectionary texts last week.  My default, in this section of scripture, is to go to the story that follows of Thomas and how Jesus showed great patience and vulnerability in allowing Thomas to touch the wounds and the scars and how that patience helped Thomas to come to belief.  Or maybe we could look at the portion that preceeds and the way that the other followers also needed to see the side and the hands but we focus on Thomas because he was not together with them when Jesus first appeared to them.  What I often fly right past in my reading are these three "sending" verses. 

Jesus is sending the disciples in the same way that Father has sent him.  With peace as their only possession and full of the power of the Holy Spirit.  With this power, he call them to "forgive the sins of any".  He promises that if they forgive those sins, "they are forgiven them".  He goes on to say that if you retain, hold on to, or bind the sins of any, that they are retained, held or bound.  Now this is one of those points in scripture, especially if you have grown up outside of a "High church" setting, that feels a little bit uncomfortable.  "Hold on Jesus", you might say, "You mean we get to decide who gets to be forgiven and who doesn't and if we decide they don't deserve to be forgiven than those sins are held?".  Different traditions have differed on their interpretation of these verses as to whether it was an apostolic gifting to those who had direct contact with Jesus or a gift that a Priest may hold to forgive a person's sin.  I am not going to get into that aspect of the verse because I think that it at least contains something that we can agree on.  We do hold a power within us to forgive or to retain sin.  I think one way that we forgive or retain sin, is something that takes place within ourselves, our families and our churches.  

At our church, we have one part of the service that is shared with the children.  The scripture that they use is the same scripture that we are studying that Sunday.  They have some craft or activity that helps bring the scripture to life and the adults learn along with the children.  This week, we used these verses from John to create an illustration.  We gave the kids a basket to hold out in front of them and started naming some things that people may have done to them that could be difficult to forgive and we dropped these large stones in the basket.  By the time we had gotten to three or four large stones they were searching for something to rest the basket against.  We talked about how choosing to keep or hold another person's sin against them is like you carrying this weight around with you.  We then talked a little bit about how, even in our own life, the sins that we struggle with, the things we perceive as weakness, can become something beautiful if we live in a community that is forgiving.  Even our anger, our pride, our restlessness, can be turned into something beautiful. It just takes the part of a patient and forgiving community and the power of the Holy Spirit.  The kids painted the large rocks to represent the beauty of forgiveness. 

I think the weight of those rocks was something that the kids could really feel and understand pretty quickly.  They talked about being picked on or being yelled at.  Maybe it was a push from a bully or a sister who took their favorite toy.  To a kid, these things are real and difficult to deal with.  The kids, when they were finished painting, went to go and play and the adults talked about what the verse meant to them.  We found that whether you are young, old, or somewhere in between, forgiveness doesn't really get any easier.  Here are some of my reflections from our time together yesterday as a church community. 

Forgiveness is a Call

You couldn't possibly read this story from John and come away thinking that forgiveness is not part of our being sent into the world.  "Just as the Father has sent me..." .  With the gift of the Holy Spirit, the disciples are sent out as forgivers of humanity.  Imagine, a people who go out into the world, a world that is hell bent on someone getting what they deserve, and we as the peculiar people of God, choose to just forgive.  That we echo the words of God found in Isaiah, "I will not hold your sins against you".  This type of forgiveness is a sign and witness to the cross of Christ.  If it is our call to be a Jesus, cross shaped people, should we not be a people who forgive.  To receive a gift of grace and not extend that same grace to our neighbor is sending a message that runs counter to the good news of Christ.  Forgive as if it is your calling.

The Forgiveness Epidemic

Luke:47Therefore I tell you, because her many sins have been forgiven, she has loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” 48Then Jesus said to her, Your Sins are forgiven" 49But those at the table began to say to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”…

In a world where people are searching for real and genuine community that is marked by love, we see that love is what grows out of forgiveness.  If we see that our communities aren't very loving, I would guess that they also aren't very good at forgiveness.  As we see in Luke, because her sins have been forgiven, she loves much.  He who has been forgiven little, loves little.  Sure, I think what we are seeing in this scripture is a people who aren't loving because they don't feel as though they have needed to be forgiven.  I think that it works both ways.  People who don't think they need much forgiveness are the same people that are not so good at forgiving. People who have needed forgiveness their whole life, and were blessed to receive it, are the most loving.  

What if we started a forgiveness epidemic.  To just radically forgive, in our families, our jobs, in politics and around the world?  I think it would create a world that loves more than we could imagine.  We've done it the other way too long, it doesn't take too close of a look to see where that has gotten us.  Retention of sin, breeds retention of sins.  Forgiveness breeds love.   

Forgiveness is a Gift

Thinking about that concept of sins which we don't forgive being retained has captured my thoughts this week.  We often think about the responsibility when forgiving someone, to set them free.  I think we don't consider, often enough, the cage that unforgiveness can trap us in.  As we reflected last night on some of the sins against us or those we love that still bring about anger and disappointment, we felt the way the sins themselves can take up residence within us.  Maybe you have been hurt by the church and haven't been able to forgive the person who hurt you. Even if you still manage to go to a church, that old hurt has a way of keeping you distant from everyone there.  The pain is too raw to risk ever being hurt like that again.  You must ask yourself if you have really forgiven that person or if you need to walk through forgiveness with them again.  If you aren't sure if you have forgiven someone or not, think about them or that situation and see what happens to your blood pressure.  Do you start making people feel uncomfortable as you tell the story of what happened and your voice continues to raise, for the 10th time that week?  Maybe you think way back into your past and remember a person of another gender, race, ethnicity or social status.  Does that hurt or sin cause you to feel a certain way about all people who fit into that social group?  Do you have a hard time trusting again?  These are all signs that you may be retaining that past individuals sin. 

This is insanely hard, I get it.  I asked the people in our church to join me in reflecting on a sin that they may be retaining from their past.  I was alarmed that I kept thinking of person after person, scenario after scenario, before I feel narrowed it down to the one that seems to have the strongest grip on me.  It wasn't just one thing, it was many things.  Each one of those sins that were acted out against me could have been forgiven.  I could let go of it, I could set it down and use my energy in a more productive way.  This is the gift that Jesus offers through the power of the Spirit.  When we forgive sins, they are forgiven.  In some mystical, magical way, when we let something go, when we employ the grace of God for the sake of another, that sin leaves us.  We may need to decide again tomorrow to put that same sin down, for a time, but after a while we will see that it doesn't have the same power it once did.  Who knows, maybe those ugly retained sins we dragged around for far too long will begin to look like the painted rocks that the kids created last night in all of their glittery rainbow, bedazzled sparkle goodness.  Even if not, it will be good to give our arms a rest. 

Messy Faith

I remember, in the first year or so of being in ministry "professionally" a conversation that we had with our "Outreach Pastor".  He had done some amazing work with the biker community as he himself was a biker.  We had Chili Cook-offs that were well attended by many in the biker community and there were growing numbers of people from that community that were calling our church their home.  There were aspects of this new part of our community that brought certain challenges but for the most part, it was bringing life and excitement to our worship gatherings.  Well, at this specific meeting that we were having about the state of "outreach" the lead Pastor voiced his concern for the people that were being brought in to the church.  "These people that are coming in have more needs than we can meet, we need less people that are using up our resources and more people that are replenishing them".  What followed was a door knocking campaign in the "wealthy" part of town.  While everything inside of me knew that this was wrong and just felt dirty, I still found myself having a hard time arguing with the logic.  I mean, I had seen the budget, in fact I was well aware of the fact that the budget and a strain to it would mean that I may not be able to be paid.  So I voiced my concern about this type of logic but then I quietly went along.  We lost most of those members.  Even though we never publicly said anything about our concern for their "using up" resources.  Perhaps they saw a heart change in the way they were viewed.  We lost that "Outreach Pastor" too.  I think this was the first of my many regrets in ministry.

One thing I remember about many of the people that were coming through our church doors at that time, and the many people I have seen come through the doors of other church's I have been involved with, is the honesty.  If someone is in need, you will know it instantly.  We've had to get clothes for people who soiled themselves, call an ambulance for a person who fell from being dangerously intoxicated, stand between people who were about to fight, hold someone weeping as tears and snot drip down your shirt or find yourself eating lunch at 3pm because you are taking people to wherever they need to go after church.  It was messy and unpredictable but I can't imagine worshiping without any of those people. 

Some church's find the messy to be a distraction.  People can become burned out if they are always serving and there are only so many volunteers and so many dollars to handle all of a communities problems.  There is some truth to that, especially if you see all of the people who come through your doors with needs, as a problem to be solved.  You won't solve all of the problems, you won't "cure" everyone, you may not even build a real relationship with half of the people.  What you will do, is find that the people who have crossed your path have more to offer you than you could ever offer them.  That honesty that I mentioned early is a healing balm in a world that pretends.  I used to feel overwhelmed with the messy, now I find myself overwhelmed with the illusion of perfection. 

When did our churches begin insisting that everyone appear to have it all together?  I never have, never could, fit the mold of being fixed.  Some of my earliest memories are the fights we would have while getting ready for church, the arguments in the car and the collective deep breath we would all take before opening the church door and putting on our happy face.  I don't think there is a family in America that hasn't experienced something similar.  We are sharing pew space and religious life with people who aren't sure how they are going to pay their bills, aren't sure where their son was last night, can't get their meds right, can't live another day with the pain, can't seem to believe the bible they carry in their hands and they don't say a word about it.  There is a mist hovering, a thick cloud of despair that is choking out the very life of our churches.  Somehow, we have been ok with all of our problems being out of sight and out of mind but we aren't fooling anyone anymore. 

One of my favorite books as a kid, especially around Christmas time, was The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.  The book details the Herdman children, who came to church because they heard there were free snacks.  The Herdmans didn't play the part of church people.  They were suspected of stealing, they swore, they burped, and they wanted to be in the church Christmas production.  Most church members were against it but the woman running the play won out.  The Herdmans presented a version of the Christmas story that was messy, maybe at times seemed irreverent, but that captured the Christmas story.  The young girl who plays Mary has an ability to get the weight of the moment better than anyone else could.  Even after she threatened her way into getting the part, argued that Mary should have been allowed to name her own baby and burps the name of Jesus, by the end of the play she is in tears.  To people who have never heard the story of Jesus, they realized it was greatest story ever told.  We learn they were the only ones who could relay that story in such a powerful way, to an onlooking crowd.  All of our churches need the Herdmans to remind us of what the gospel is really all about. 

Lord give us messy churches.  Give us churches where you hear an F bomb in the lobby (gasp), where you may have to ask a person to put away the liquor bottle during service but you can sit in the parking lot after church and talk about what it is really like to live with addiction.  Lord, give us a church where we truly leave our gift at the altar and go to be reconciled with our brother or sister before we put a mask on that everything is alright.  Lord give us a church where wealth is measured in more than bank accounts and tithing abilities.  Where we see our richest members as those who have taken a vow of poverty to live their life in service to seniors, the homeless, widows or orphans.  Lord give us a church, where we are free to say "I don't know", "I don't like", or "I doubt".  Lord, give us a church where every Sunday we don't just put on our Sunday best but we take it off to reveal our worst, and that we commit to love each other in spite of and maybe even because of it.  Lord, the true self that you created each of us to be is much more beautiful than our false image.  Lord teach us to love ourselves and each other for who we really are.  Give us the strength to live our messy lives for all to see because we believe that when we are weak, we are strong.   

A City in Turmoil

Matthew 21:1-11
21:1 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples,

21:2 saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me.

21:3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately."

21:4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,

21:5 "Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey."

21:6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them;

21:7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.

21:8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.

21:9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!"

21:10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?"

21:11 The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."

Jesus has entered our congregations this season of Lent and Easter.  Jesus has entered into the culture and our lives.  He has entered into our fasting from chocolate and wine, from Facebook and Twitter.  I have a feeling that Jesus has entered in and found us all in a state of turmoil.  Some people, in the gospel story above, were ready for Jesus' arrival.  They may have even played a part in ushering in this dramatic protest, because it was most definitely a protest.  They were ready to lay their coats on the road and branches under the donkey's feet while shouting "Hosanna in the highest heaven".  Most probably saw that Jesus' peaceful and humble entry was in stark contrast to the entry of powerful leaders through the cities gates, and were willing to risk their participation in such a protest because they were ready for the winds of change.  I think our churches have been found in a state of turmoil because we are more prepared for the entry of powerful leaders and dignitaries than for king Jesus.

Jesus' preparation for this event, really started in the announcement of his coming.  Jesus would enter this world in hushed scandal.  He would be carried by a young girl who carried not only the Son of God but the shame of a judgmental culture.  The rulers and kings wanted him dead before he had breathed life.  His parents would have to move and become foreigners and strangers in a scary culture and time.  Jesus would be born among the animals and their waste, wrapped in rags and on the run again before he could walk.  He would enter the temple where he challenged the understandings of men more than twice his age.  He would share a table with prostitutes and thieves, share water with a woman looking for escape in the noon day sun.  He resisted the desire to build an altar and temple on a mountain of transfiguration with the voice of his father and the presence of prophets past.  He risked being called unclean as he entered the tomb of a friend, dead four days in a valley of dry bones and called him to rise and walk again.  Many people lived in the middle of this story and still missed it.  And today, many people live surrounded by this gospel story in their congregations, week in and week out, and still miss it.  So how do we make sure we aren't missing it, how do we make sure that we don't just react to the arrival of Jesus, in turmoil.

First, move outside of the city gates to receive him.  Just like much of the gospel stories, there is a familiar call to go outside the gates.  Leaving the gates means moving outside the comfort, the security, the known and the recognizable to be surprised.  For those crowds that received Jesus, they saw with their eyes the announcement of a new type of king.  A king that came on the back of a donkey and not a steed.  A king that was of the people, for the people.  A king who was taking the form of a slave, that would humble himself and taste in death, even death on a cross. 

Second, be ready for something completely different.  I think the people that went ahead of Jesus and those that followed behind him, had a major decision to make when they saw him.  They could have seen this ridiculous image of the Messiah riding on the back of a donkey and said, "this isn't what I expected, I don't know I can get behind this kind of king".  The fact we know that people followed after him, towards Jerusalem, we know that people were willing to get past any preconceived ideas of what a triumphal entry would look like and follow after a humble king. 

Lastly, be aware turmoil is often the only response that makes any sense.  Jesus entering into the city, at the time that he did, in the way that he did, proclaiming the message that he was proclaiming, was no doubt going to cause turmoil. Jesus didn't just enter the city as a Messiah that the prophets had proclaimed.  He entered as Jesus, son of man, the one who drank too much, the one who had twisted scriptures in dangerous ways, the one who used blasphemous language about his divinity, the one who forgave sins and was merciful to the meek.  To a brutal society, grace and mercy are tools of the resistance and turmoil is the only reasonable response.  We have to be honest with ourselves that we are often more shaken by Jesus than we care to admit.  If we can't be honest with ourselves we have a tendency to water down Jesus until he is something palatable and much less dangerous. 

The response, from the city in turmoil, was to ask "who is this?".  I have a feeling that the majority of churches in this country would kick Jesus out if he showed up on Easter Sunday.   When Jesus says things like, "whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me", I think Jesus is speaking literally.  Whoever is the least in your community, or who you have rejected from your community, that is Jesus.  Jesus is the visitor with an intellectual or developmental disability.  Jesus is the gay person that showed up for Easter Sunday.  He is the transgender potential church member wondering how you will handle the "bathroom situation".  She is the woman who has been hurt more than you can imagine by a patriarchal society that is asking her to "get over" her rape and abuse by her ex-husband and submit again to male leadership.  He is the young black man wearing his pants lower than you feel comfortable with and he is noticing the way that people are following him around the church hallways, all for the sake of "security".  Jesus is the drunk homeless man who smells of urine and takes too many bagels because it is all he's eaten in a few days.  I hope your church is in turmoil this Easter Sunday.  I hope you find yourself asking, "who is this?" when these visitors enter your door.  I hope, more than anything, that you have eyes to see that it just might be Jesus. 

Contextualized Value

"You never knew love, until you crossed the line of grace." -Bono

I was reading a book today where I came across this quote from the one and only Bono.  Bono, as one could guess from the lyrics of his songs, has been profoundly impacted by the scandal of God's love for us.  Here we see him boldly challenging those who may have come to love too easily.  If you haven't scandalized the love of God, if you haven't pushed and pulled against the grace of God, if you haven't rolled around in the mud a little bit, you have only known the love of God in part.  Yet while we were still sinners, we have been caught up in an overwhelming, transforming, love.  I'm guessing that for many in the church, whether they know it or admit it, they feel that they in some way have earned at least some small part of God's love.  We think in our minds about how we helped that man change a tire and we felt so blessed.  We think about how we go to church once or maybe even three times a week.  We search for assurance of God's love in the way that we pray and read scripture, the way that we teach our children a right understanding of the love of God.  Yet we haven't truly known love until we push against its bounds.

When we reflect on the struggles of living in loving relationship with family, community and the world, we see the challenges that even a chosen relationship can present.  We have bad days, sleepless nights, children pulling on our pant leg, another day running late, pain from the way that we slept, or a full moon.  Many people are walking through this world hurting in many different ways.  We all are probably familiar with the phrase "hurt people, hurt people".  Whether we like it or not, that is one of the truest statements.  When we are in pain, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, or mental, we have a tendency to have a shortened fuse.  We have ears that hear a simple suggestion as a challenge to our integrity.  If we know one another well enough, we may know the response that will cut our friend the deepest.  Depending on our level of pain we may let it fly.  On the other side, loving people who get us, who love like we do, when we are at our best, is hardly any challenge at all.

I love the verses in scripture where Jesus is calling his believers to a higher level of love.  He challenges his audience,

  "If you love those who love you, what reward is there for that?  Even corrupt tax collectors do that much.  If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?  Even pagans do that."

Jesus is asking us to turn this idea of loving only the "lovable" on its head.  He tells us, that hurt people shouldn't hurt people.  Hurt people should love people because they, perhaps more than anyone else, know the pain that can come from feeling unloved.  Jesus is telling us that, if we love only because we have something to gain, maybe a promise that the love we have given will be returned to us, we have not really loved at all.  

It may seem to be a given that Christians would love wherever they are and whomever they are in front of.  Sadly, we know this has not been the case for much of the church's history so maybe it is time we reexamine the question.  When, whom and how do we love?  We love those who love us, we love those who do not love us, we love our friends and church members, we love our enemies, we love when we are loved, we love when we feel unloved, we love when we are experiencing pain and we love when we have experienced the supernatural power of healing.  

The Value of Love 

I think the reason that Bono makes the distinction between the type of love that is experienced on either side of grace is because there is something more valuable about a scandalous love.  I think the reason that Jesus makes the distinction between the love of a friend and the love of an enemy is because, again, there is something more scandalous about that kind of love.  I'd say, that is the love that this world is begging for.  While we are still trying to figure out how to stop being an ass to the person we share a pew with, Jesus is calling us to love the ISIS member.  While we are contemplating whether or not we should forgive our sister or brother for the way that they spoke with us last week, Jesus is calling us to show grace to the man who stole our car. 

Value is contextual.  Water to someone who lives on the bank of a river, may be take for granted, while to someone who lives in the Sahara it may be more precious than gold.  Heat for someone who lives in Alaska, may be a welcome feeling while at the same time, to someone living in Ethiopia it may be the thing someone is crying for relief from.  Love, to a person who has been told that the back stabbing, judgmental, conditional love they experienced through growing up in a church, has no value at all.  Love, to a person who grows up in a society that says they love the movies, love that outfit, love the way that their steak was cooked, love the Ninja Turtles, and love it when they have produce on sale, has experienced a love of diminished value. 

Love demands the fullness of its value.  Well, as much love can demand anything.  I think this is why many churches feel like they are experiencing something lesser than the love of God.  They are just rehearsing the motions of love in a very small context.  There is no challenge to the bound of grace, to the bound of love.  To accept the challenge to love a people who are out of our immediate comfort, our immediate context, is to open oneself to the risk of disappointment, disagreement, rejection and even harm.  But, if that love is returned to us it will unlock a part of our very souls that we didn't know existed.  Saying that we love the latest outfit we purchased doesn't come out the same way.  The world grows larger and more brilliant than we had imagined.  The words of Jesus no longer exists as just a hopeful dream but they take form in a tangible way.  Our heart grows three sizes that day.  The words take on flesh and dwell among us.  

I challenge you, and myself, to stop offering a love that is conditional, manipulative and can easily be returned.  Let love roll around in the mud a bit, let its risk spit on you and reject you.  Let it fight back and come back void.  At the same time, never stop offering a love, who's value is transformational.  Be a stream in dry lands, offer hope to the hopeless, food to the hungry, clothes to the naked, forgiveness to those who have harmed you, and love to those who have yet to experience the scandalous love of Christ.  It will mean leaving this land you have called home, with all of its comforts and charm.  The value of this kind of love you have first been given must travel, in spirit and in flesh.  Travel well. 

Vulnerable Power

"We like control; God, it seems, loves vulnerability. In fact, if Jesus is the image of God, then God is much better described as “Absolute Vulnerability Between Three” than “All-mighty One.” Yet how many Christian prayers begin with some form of “Almighty God”? If you’re immersed in the Trinitarian mystery, you must equally say “All-Vulnerable God,” too!" -Richard Rohr

I'm not sure at what age it begins, I guess it's different for every child, but it is fairly early on in the life of a child that they start to fight for self sufficiency.  It is a positive social move that we instinctively develop.  With my kids it begins with insisting that they get their own drinks.  I walk into the kitchen to see a stool pushed up to the counter, my child balancing on the stool to reach the glasses.  They are sure that they will be able to pour the gallon of milk by themselves when in all honesty they usually end up with more milk on the table than in their glass.  For the most part, I am ok with the kids learning and failing in this way.  My oldest is obsessed with doing things on his own.  He will make his own dinner, toasted bread and cheese, because he rarely approves of what we are eating.  He always gets his own drinks, gets himself ready in the morning and makes his own breakfast.  He is learning that the more he can do by himself, the more control that he has.  If he is thirsty, he doesn't have to ask us for a drink and then wait for us to get it.  He can just grab a drink.  If he is hungry and he doesn't like what we are having for dinner, he has to make his own dinner.  If he is ready for breakfast or to take a shower in the morning, he doesn't have to wait until I am done helping the younger siblings, he can just get started.  There is a lot of power in that.

Later in life, as our age increases and the physical realities of getting older start to kick in, we begin to see what it is like to once again become vulnerable.  We need someone to make our meals for us, to get us drink, and even to bring the spoon to our mouth.  All of life is like a mountain climb toward self sufficiency followed by a downhill race to vulnerability.  Most of us would view self sufficiency as good and vulnerability as something less desirable. We even say things like "he is so needy", or "ugh, can you believe how clingy she is" .  Our society views people who are dependent on social programs as lesser, second class citizens.  Senior Citizens are placed in nursing homes, retirement communities or Florida.  Seeing someone reach an age of vulnerability is more than we can bare.  Those who are sick are placed in hospitals so that another person can tend to the needs of the vulnerable.  Maybe if we put them on the third floor of a concrete structure, we won't have to face our own possible futures.  The homeless are arrested for loitering, told they can't sleep in parks, not even allowed to sit with a blanket on a set of stairs.  The most vulnerable in our communities are chased from view of the public.

Our culture is in love with power.  We celebrate the strong and powerful in sporting events.  This culture worships the self-made business man that clawed his way to the top. Our schools have stadiums built around the football field for the entire community to cheer on young men who are testing the limits of their bodies while at the same time most people aren't aware there is a chess and robotics team.  This is the narrative of the world since the beginning of recorded history.  The strong are the ones who write the history, the ones who dictate the way that a people worship and decide the fate of those who are weak.  Throughout history, the "winners" were the one's who had a stronger god.  As a result, we as believers, hold an image of an almighty God and we will fight to the death to defend his name.

In the quote at the beginning of this post, Rohr suggests a different reality from the spiritual power structures than the one our own society demands.  What if the revelation of God, in the person of Christ, points to an equally all-vulnerable God?   What if the narrative of almighty God, all-powerful God, does more harm than good in this current climate?  We must atleast admit that the image of the invisible God, while still displaying a power that in many ways is beyond this age, flexes its muscle through a display of vulnerability.  Fetus in the womb of a young woman, child wrapped in rags, parents on the run from a ruler gone mad, prophet speaking truth to the powers of this age, martyr led around by Roman soldiers, Messiah hanging from a cross, and the list goes on.  When God displays His character in the actions of Jesus we see a self emptying God not a self aggrandizing, self sufficient God but one who is dependent on the other.  The almighty God of pagan mythology depends on no one.  He acts for himself and by himself and for his own amusement.  We must see that the God of the Hebrew Bible never operated in this way.  The God revealed in the New Testament showed this truth in the working of God through His Son by the power of the Holy Spirit.  As a people who have, deposited within us, this same wonder working power, should we not be called to a power through vulnerability and not self sufficiency?

I like to think about how these things flesh out in the life of the church.  I think first of all, there is nothing wrong with teaching our children to be self sufficient, to a point.  I just think that self sufficiency takes a negative turn when it alienates us from the life of the church.  Vulnerability means being able to tell people you need help, confessing your sins to your brother and sister in Christ and deferring to another person's strengths.  I think vulnerability also means welcoming people who look radically different from you into the life of the church.  It means putting yourself, your church family and your actual family at risk for the purpose of proclaiming the Good News.  A vulnerable way of being in this world won't be a way to display how good and talented you are but it may point to a power that is simultaneously beyond you and within you.  It will excite and confound us all to the glory of God.  Our pride has left us, just like my son, with more milk on the table than in the cup but it isn't too late to ask for a little help from a friend.

Goodbye Cruel church

First homes have a way of holding a special place in our hearts.  I often think about the first home Niki and I purchased, so many years ago.  It was a 1920's craftsmen that had been originally built in Pontiac and then was moved to Waterford to make room for the GM plant.  There was a lot of history in that home before we had even moved in.  We were situated in a fairly quiet lake community, I don't know there is any other kind of neighborhood in Waterford.  We had a Convenience/Liquor Store just down the street, which could be dangerous for 20 somethings.  We had an authentic Mexican restaurant pretty much in our backyard that sold the best guacamole, which can be equally dangerous for... anyone.  We had a small detached garage that sat further from the quiet street and next to the garage sat the remains of a large garden.  Some of the plants continued to come up year after year even though we never tended to the garden.  Next to the garage there was a large plant that wasn't attractive but really wasn't ugly either.  We were new to home ownership and unsure if it was some sort of decorative tree or bush so we just let it grow.  As time passed, this small tree grew and grew until the base of it must have measured 5 inches.  The branches of the tree rubbed against the siding and its shade covered the remains of that once vibrant garden.  We started to see cracks appear in the floor of the garage and water would leak in from the foundation's edge.  We soon realized that this unknown tree wasn't really a tree at all, it was a weed.  I'm not the quickest when it come to some home improvement projects but I knew this weed had to be stopped before it did further damage.  We cut it down and covered the stump but the damage had been done.  We still had cracks in the garage floor, the siding was dirty and damaged and the roof had felt the branches punishment in spring storms. Because I have no suitable transition...

I've awakened several times over the last few days in the middle of nightmares.  It's been a while since I have had such disruptive dreams.  While the setting and some content of the dreams have changed, there is an overarching theme that has remained the same.  I come walking into a church or a bible classroom or, as in my dream last night, a Christian conference.  I have an overwhelming sense of being alone.  People all have their social groups they are laughing and talking in but eventually I find a place to sit.  The person leading the class, conference or sermon calls on everyone to pull out their homework on the last doctrinal topic.  They pull their work from nicely stacked folders and organizers while I, in a panic, dig through my bag and all of its disorder.  I wasn't even aware of the assignment but I was hoping by some miracle, I would find something to turn in.  It doesn't take long before the leaders of the meeting see that I haven't finished the required work and I am taken to an office in the back.  The room is filled with older white men, all dressed in khaki's and sports coats.  They all laugh with big belly laughs at a joke I must have missed until they notice me. The room grows quiet.  I am reprimanded for not completing the required work, scolded for losing the assigned reading.  I told them I wasn't aware of their request and I must have lost it.  "You must have lost your brain" bellows the leader of the group.  I woke up sweaty, depressed and a bit more cynical.

Here's the thing, I have been watching social media, the news reports and the local Christian bookstores and I just don't know how I have missed the American church losing its way.  The Franklin Grahams of the evangelical world have found themselves in bed with the political Alt-right.  They are blaming natural disasters on entire people groups.  They are saying that the Christian call is one towards safety and that we shouldn't trust muslims or immigrants in general, not without some "extreme vetting process".  While some in the evangelical world warn these leaders about the dangers of tying their beliefs so closely to the GOP, and yet, anxious heads have prevailed.  Christian book stores have stopped selling theology books and have replaced them with Duck Dynasty paraphernalia and Bibles with American flags on the cover.  I was looking through a Christian bookstore, one that thankfully still sells some theology books, when I overheard a conversation about how N.T. Wright is leading the church down a dangerous path.  I mean, who doesn't love Tom Wright?!  They declared that anyone who has some alternative atonement theory really is in danger of not even being considered in the faith anymore.  It took everything in me not to tell them what's what.  But, I realized it just isn't worth it anymore.

I have witnessed the church rush at stores on Sunday afternoons as people snatch and grab whatever food they can to make a suitable Sunday dinner.  It's almost as if they are in some other world, some world that other people don't exist in.  I have heard the stories from waitresses who have to work the Sunday church rush.  People who just left worshipping God are sending plates back, belittling servers and then leaving ridiculously tiny tips.  Social media is full of white, conservative, evangelical pastors who are aligning with a dangerous President at the expense of minority groups everywhere.  Professors at Christian Colleges and Universities are being fired for sticking up for immigrants, minorities and people with different sexual orientations.  This towering tree of white male evangelicalism is doing damage at an alarming rate.  What we need to realize is that this tree isn't really a tree at all.  It is a weed.

I've learned that a weed is really just a plant growing in an undesirable location.  For instance, a tomato plant growing in the middle of your yard is a weed.  The thing that made that tree in Waterford be considered a weed, besides being a bit ugly, was where it was growing.  Much of the evangelical church in America is growing in such a way that it is doing damage to the foundation of Christ.  Even though the numbers in the evangelical church are dwindling, their negative impact is being felt by many.  The foundation of justice, kindness and mercy is being replaced with capitalism and nationalism.  Roots have slithered beneath the Church's foundation and we are nearing the time for the building to be condemned.  So I say, goodbye cruel church.  I'm not leaving the Church but I think it is high time for a large portion of the evangelical church in America to die.  There are some foundational cracks that can't be repaired, the building has to be demolished.

Good News of Good News

It's not all doom and gloom.  There are some people who have been planted in very conservative churches that are doing some amazingly patient and powerful work there.  As long as those churches are listening to the Spirit and making small changes in progressing towards a kingdom mindset, God will continue to be present there and with those people.  I know of several churches where powerful women have remained even though their speaking and serving opportunities are limited and yet they are making such a hopeful impact in the process of opening the eyes of conservative male leadership to the Spirits affirming of women's pastoral giftings.  In many churches, even though opinions are mixed as to where they should fall on LGBTIQ issues, there has been some discussion and at least an overall move towards love.

Even if a church should fail, not just like if it may fail but if it SHOULD fail, it doesn't mean that all of those people somehow fall out of faith and fellowship.  In fact, most church growth is as a result of people switching churches.  Let's just make sure the types of churches we are planting and leading, are the types of churches that are Kingdom centered.  Let us make sure that we are equipped to welcome people in who have hurt and misled by bad church leadership.  That may mean that church is large or small but it most certainly means that it will not be in bed with the political powers of this nation.  It means it will not be corrupted by fame, security or a drive for financial gain.

If we believe the gospel, the same good news that saw Jesus taking on the form of a slave for the sake of creation, that good news that was proclaimed to the last and the least, the good news that saw the powers and principalities demand death, and the good news that saw a resurrection of power from the grave, we must believe that new life continues to come from dead and dying things.  Thankfully, that even means the American church.  Things that experience rebirth have a way of being better than we had hoped or imagined.  I still have hope that we will more willingly let some things die so that we can take hold of a life that really is life.

A Community of Need

A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself.

 -Abraham Maslow

In 1943, Abraham Maslow wrote "A Theory of Human Motivation" in Psychological Review.  I think for those of us who have taken even an Introduction to Psychology course, we are familiar with the concept of Maslow's argument.  Human motivation is driven by a hierarchy of needs.  These needs are represented by a pyramid with our most basic needs at the bottom and the more complex needs at the top.  In the following quick explanation I will start with the most basic needs.

Physiological Needs are things like air, food, basic shelter, water and clothing.

Safety Needs would include your personal and financial security, and a general sense of well-being.

Love and Belonging is made up of our need for family, intimacy and friendship.

Esteem is the need to be valued by others.

Self-Actualization is summarized by Maslow himself as "What a man can be, he must be".

I realize that there are challenges to this model and in many ways and in some circumstances it is incomplete.  For the most part though, most of our social issues come from a deficiency at one of these levels of need.  A person who is lacking at the most basic level of a need for food, shelter, water, and fresh air, will do things that surprise even themselves to see those needs met.  If a person has those basic needs but does not have a sense of security, they may attempt a posture that gives themselves the upper hand.  It may require putting another person's need for safety at risk but they are fighting for their own need being met.  A person who doesn't feel loved or that they belong will find themselves in a deep depression or attempting to create that feeling of love and belonging in dangerous ways.  Our need to be valued may cause us to work too long of hours or to feel that we are constantly performing to claim another person's value or approval and we will find ourselves exhausted and frustrated.  And finally, if we never feel that we have met our full potential we are left feeling underused and unfulfilled.

So, what is the solution.  Why does all of mankind constantly find itself fighting on one level or another to ensure its needs are met?  Why do people work long hours and feel as though they aren't really making a difference?  Why do people choose false and even dangerous paths towards "love and affection" with devastating outcomes?  Part of the reason that we still spin in this cycle of unfulfilled need is because the solution is not a simple one.

"It was not good for man to be alone"

When we were created, God saw that it was not good for us to be alone, so he created another.  I can say with some level of certainty that the majority of times  have felt like a basic need was not being met was coupled with a feeling of loneliness.  Meeting each of these needs described by Maslow is more difficult alone.  We struggle more to meet basic needs, we are less safe, we feel unloved, we can not experience the joy of being valued and often the thing that we are meant to be, is tied up in another person.  An artist needs an audience, a builder needs a client, and a teacher needs a student.  The first solution to the problem of need is the realization that we can't do it alone.

"There was not a needy person among them"

Acts 4:34 There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35 They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

I don't know that we can envision what this kind of community looked like.  Maybe this was a prettier picture than the reality of the early church but it's still beautiful.  The community that existed in the early church did away with need.  They had food, shelter, value, self actualization, they were loved and had a true sense of belonging.  Even though their lives were at risk they had a different sense of safety, one that didn't depend on staying alive.  This was the way that the church was meant to be, it was the thing that Jesus said he would build and that the gates of hell would not prevail against it.  Where did we go wrong?

Self-Transcendence

Later in Maslow's life he realized that his theory of self-actualization was incomplete.  Being the fullness of what you were meant to be is still limiting to the full sense of what it means "to be".  I propose that this is where the church gets it wrong.  If you look at the most "successful" churches, they have all of the social programs, security guards at the front, they tell you they love you and that you belong to their tribe, you can find your value in a variety of ways to volunteer, and there are limitless ways that your gifts can be used and displayed.  So why does it still feel incomplete?  It is often because that thing that has been built could function in the exact same way with or without Jesus.  I'm not saying that any church is or is not functioning in this way.  My point is that it could.  The danger in that truth is that it is hard to see it coming.  a church full of people who are self-actualizing runs like a top.  The production is flawless, the floors are clean and there is some genuine good that is being done in the community.  Maslow's warning against ending at self-actualization was his understanding that there is no true self-actualization without transcendence.  That transcendence is the service to that thing which is greater than ourselves.  So we stop doing what we are doing for the sake of ourselves, our self preservation or even the self preservation of the particularity of our church home.  Transcendence allows the church to be in service to the church globally and ultimately in service to God.

Be MORE than you can be

The ways that you can be, in this world, are your self-actualized potential.  You were made as an artist, a poet, a preacher, a builder, an accountant, a missionary, etc.  The church is a great place to realize the potential of your gifts, as long as the leadership will allow such a space.  The need to transcend begs that you don't stop at that self-actualization.  Transcendence demands that your skill, your talent, your drive, propels you to use those gifts in a way that does more than serve your ego  It demands that your skills be used for more than just serving your local church.  The end game of self-actualization is not the creation of the "thing" or the performance of your gift.  That is only the beginning.

The brilliant artist Ai Weiwei spoke about art and creation when he said,

"Art is not and end but a beginning" 

The thing you have created in service to yourself, the church, the world or whatever you used your gift for, is only a starting point.  That church you planted does not reach completion when you reach a certain number of members.  The creation of this thing is only a beginning to something else, something greater.  Our churches must transcend their own self-actualization.  If they don't, they are nothing but self serving esteem builders that serve no function other than feeding egos.

The thing that art and ministry have in common, I would say, is that you have such little control over the reception.  Just as Ai Weiwei spoke about art, the thing that you create, the sermon that you preach, the way that you serve, is not the end; it is only the beginning.  Some people won't get it.  Some people will be critical.  It will make other people furiously angry, while still others will find healing for the first time.  But know this, If you create in service to and participation with, something greater than yourself, you will have truly taken part in the eternal.

Oh, Brother Lawrence, Where Art Thou?

"It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God." -Brother Lawrence

We live in a complex world.  We face an increasing list of demands and expectations every day.  I look at my children, who are still so young, and I feel an anxiety in my spirit.  I know the anxiety that I feel over this ever increasing list of demands and expectations will only be amplified by the time they reach college.  With the invention of Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and all of the other social media platforms, the entire world has an upfront and personal look into the way that you are handling all of that pressure.  We add filters to photos, take multiple pictures (trying to get it just right), and leave out the stories of struggle that often accompany our small successes.  It isn't enough to do reasonable service any more.  Your job, your family, your coffee, your meals, all have to be exceptional.  As our young people are graduating from college, they are experiencing the pressure of landing the perfect job.  For many, finishing that college degree brought with it a crushing amount of debt.  An entry level, low paying job, would be crushing to their ego and pocket book.

As a pastor, I feel that pressure all too often.  I love, love, love our church.  We usually have no more than 16 people meeting in our living room every week.  We share a meal together and then share in our worship gathering.  Because of our numbers we are able to have deep conversation about the texts for the week.  We are able to really share the challenges and the successes that we have experienced throughout the week.  We have developed true and lasting friendships with our members.  Yet, when I get around a bunch of other pastors and church leaders, I somehow feel like I am failing in some way.  Judging from conversations that I've had with other church leaders, I'm not alone in this.  If your church has 100 members, you start looking at the church with 500 members.  If you have 500 members you start looking at the church with 1,000.  The larger your church, the more likely you are to be asked to speak at conferences.  The more conferences you speak at, the more likely you are to be asked to write a book, and on and on and on.  Church growth means success and success somehow means wisdom.  The Richard Warrens, Timothy Kellers, Joyce Meyers, and David Platts of the church world, set the tone for the entire church.  This can be for the good and the not so good.  These people have millions of readers, massive influence and insane budgets.  Far too often, that success and those budgets do not equate to increased wisdom.

Over the last few years, I have come across a few smaller voices in our church history that may have something to say to our love affair with fame.  Let me be clear that I am not saying success is bad.  Some people are doing and saying fresh, life giving, and transformational things that are being noticed by large numbers of people.  Those things are good, they just aren't the only good things.

Therese of Lisieux was one of these heroes of the faith.  When she first came to the Carmel of Lisieux she thought that she would study and eventually became a Saint.  She was determined, like so many of us as we enter into our calling.  She learned quite quickly that she was much smaller than she had originally hoped.  She meditated on the Proverb which reminded her that

"Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me"

She was determined from that point forward that her relationship with God would not be dependent on grand gestures of faith and great successes but on the little way. She wrote at on time:

Sometimes, when I read spiritual treatises in which perfection is shown with a thousand obstacles, surrounded by a crowd of illusions, my poor little mind quickly tires. I close the learned book which is breaking my head and drying up my heart, and I take up Holy Scripture. Then all seems luminous to me; a single word uncovers for my soul infinite horizons; perfection seems simple; I see that it is enough to recognize one's nothingness and to abandon oneself, like a child, into God's arms. Leaving to great souls, to great minds, the beautiful books I cannot understand, I rejoice to be little because only children, and those who are like them, will be admitted to the heavenly banquet.

For Terese of Lisieux, humility was enough.  It is funny that this woman who died so young and was fixed on doing small things of faith as an expression of love to God, is seen as such a hero of faith.

Brother Lawrence was another one of these heroes of the faith.  He was born in in the 1600's in France. He worked as a soldier until he was injured.  He considered himself clumsy, inept and not very skilled.  When he took up work and residence in a monastery, he was not as well learned as the other members there.  He worked to repair sandals and wash dishes and eventually found himself as a cook.  This was his entire life.  He took part in menial tasks and yet found a way that kept him constantly in God's presence.  He wasn't striving to be something more, he was content in doing the task he was called to but being fully present to that moment.

Once Brother Lawrence so brilliantly said,

"We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed."

Where Art Thou?

So, that is my question for the church.  In a world that is constantly fighting for bigger and better.  In a world where the loudest and most commanding voice is the one that is heard.  When you beg for a larger congregation, more "favor" more territory and influence, where are the Brother Lawrence's and Terese of Lisieux's?  The encouragement, I hope, is that if you are currently engaged in a "little" enterprise, it doesn't mean that it isn't or won't be the thing that they look to, hundreds of years from now, as the thing that brings life and hope.  For Brother Lawrence and for Terese of Lisieux, the people around them were instantly changed by there presence.  Letters were written to leaders of monasteries and leaders of the church, that outlined this simple way as a way that would bring clarity to their lives.  Doing the big thing, especially in this current culture, has its own rewards.  I hope that you find that doing the small things, for such a massive God, is so much better than doing big things for who knows what.  If your lot in life is support and service, God hears you and is more than pleased.

God loves dish washers, not just as dish washers but as people who have unlocked a key to his presence.  God loves the elder who doesn't need his name on the newest wing of the building but is the one, when faced with the church's largest decision, that all of the elders look to for Godly wisdom.  God loves the assistant pastor who is too scared to speak in public but is the one that the quietest church members call in the middle of the night for some reassurance because they too know what it is like to feel small.

Church, don't be so quick to grow big.  Be willing to stay small, if that is the thing you are called to.  In a world where bigger is better, there is a whole lot of people looking for a still small voice.  I pray there is a faithful witness found there.

We the People

We the people, confess that we lied, saying that all men are created equal That women could star in the sequel, even take the lead

We hope to grow and throw timidity to the wind, we are particularly, in solidarity

for the prosperity of mankind and woman kind, once blind

to patriarchy, once divided starkly

but Christ's work erased the lines of all of us confined to one pale blue dot

not country, religion, tongue tribe or color

separate yet distinct story tellers

of history gone bad, of the bad times and the good

hoping to not repeat the line of humanity misunderstood

not hating a man because he worships differently than me

not rating a woman by looks and robbing her dignity

erasing borders that keep children from fleeing war outside

meeting boats of refugees with warmth and meals as they wash in with the tide

humankind should be offered health care as a right

a child shouldn't have to worry about where he will sleep at night

food shouldn't be contingent on whether you piss clean

at the welfare office you should be treated, well, fairly, and not demeaned

the requirement for marriage should be love, a covenantal commitment

ask the heterosexual man where faithfulness to his bride went

We the people of Christ, in order to form more perfect unity

do hereby set down the lie, of American exceptionalism, lazy intellectualism

believing in a young earth, being pro life but only until birth

assigning worth based on wealth, making decisions for others and their health

We the people confess that being blessed is not , not having to wait in line,

or the type of food which we dine

Being blessed is to bless, with this new measure we are empty

a closet full of clothes, technology disposed yet still it tempts me

Blessed and highly favored yet you labored not

while your neighbors got panic, praying when will his blessing come

One moment more until the church's business meeting is done

"We've decided for new carpet, it will bring new people in.  Plus it will do well to

cover up all of our lies and sin".

"We will bring up your needs at the next allowed time, fair warning, we've brought in large sums from the building fund and have yet to give a dime".

We the people confess that we are deaf, dumb and blind,

our listening to God is pure memory or whatever fitting verse we can find

We listen less, don't confess, talk more before hearing

blind men steering the ship off course

their only resource is the lines on a page, Spirit is showing empty on the gauge

No life breathed into these dry bones but they believed in the bones more than the blood

the dust more than love, loves blood beating, completing us

from the rusty vehicle of hate, I just can't relate but I'm guilty too

I, like you feared the new, even when I knew the old had passed away

New wine, old skin, ancient sin climbing back

be like God, be afraid of lack

know what's right, curse the wrong

reject the people who don't belong

but this new thing has erased the lines

no Jew, Greek, slave, free, are confined to a label

a baby in a stable said the king of kings will rule from the mud, or get a place to stay from HUD

not a hand me down crown from an orange Cheeto clown

Selah

I Call A Lie

"I call a lie:  wanting not to see something one does see, wanting not to see something as one sees it." -Nietzsche

We used to have an old Volkswagen Cabriolet convertible.  It was Niki's car, really.  She loved that car with all of its quirks and personality, if a car can have a personality.  We didn't have enough money to be able to store the convertible in the winter so it was a year round driver for us.  It leaked when the ice would get in the cracks, expand and then melt.  The radio had a bit of static to it.  Electronics on the car would decide when and how they would work, when you turned a corner the car  would occasionally honk, or should I say beep, at the people on the sidewalk.  At its best, in the warm summer months, you could drive with the top down, the sun on your shoulders, enjoying the wind in your hair.  One quirk that the car had was that the check engine light was always on.  We took it in to a European car shop to have it looked at and he said there is nothing wrong with the car, it just does that.  His suggestion for the fix was a piece of electrical tape.  The tape wasn't to repair some sort of short in the wire.  The tape was to be placed over the check engine light so that you didn't have to see it.

I don't think the tape over the check engine light really worked for us.  Even though we weren't as distracted by the light, there was always this sinking feeling that there really was something wrong with the car and that we were going to break down at the most inopportune time.  Well, I'm not sure when it happened, but we have allowed some electrical tape to be placed over the malfunction of the American Evangelical church.  Sure, maybe we aren't so distracted by the check engine light, but I am left with a sinking feeling that this church is set to break down, if it hasn't already done so.  So we are stuck in a bit of Nietzsche's definition of a lie.

"Wanting not to see something one does see"

We can no longer lie about what we do and don't see.  We are overwhelmed with images from around the world.  We see starving children in our country and abroad, we see images of bombed out buildings, lifeless bodies in the street, we see people covered in dirt and ash begging for safe spaces, we see a mosque burning, children taunting foreigners and that is all just a Wednesday.  We are having a harder time being able to say "I don't see it".  It's a lie!  There is no way, unless you live under a rock, that you can say that you don't see the hurt and the harm in this world.  The first half of the Nietzsche quote is the external.  This is a statement of fact.  Do we or do we not see the things around us.  If we fail at this part of the test than I fear the church is in worse shape than I had first imagined.

"Wanting not to see something as one sees it"

Here is the question that the majority of the church in the West is faced with.  We can come to some agreement that we see the reality of the world.  We see starvation, homelessness, war, injustice, racism, and some level of environmental impact at least, and the question is how do we see these things?  Do we see refugees begging for entry, for security from this Nation that calls itself Christian and do we say, no, our safety comes first?  If we see it this way, we are engaged in a lie.  We can not take the words of Jesus seriously, we can not take the words of the prophets seriously, we can not take the words of the apostles seriously, and see this refugee crisis in any other way.  So what do we do when we don't want to see the things we see, as we see them?  We lie.  We lie and say that we lock our doors at night so it is same thing as having increased security and some sort of fool proof "vetting" option.  But I say, sure you lock your doors at night but if someone knocked on your door at night and was dying at your door step, wouldn't you let them in?

Now I know that our government will do what it will do, I will protest, I will do my part to hopefully vote in the people that I feel will offer the most compassionate leadership but my critique is not against our government, this time.  My critique is against a church who refuses to see.  A church who refuses to see it as it actually is.  We have created clever memes and bogus scenarios to try and argue away the teachings of Jesus.  I understand that our government has some responsibility to help protect its citizens but I would hope that the Church would be on the front lines of pushing the envelope of grace.  That we would be a part of creating safe communities to welcome the stranger.  That we would be at the shore building fires, cooking food to welcome those who are sick from the horrors of war,  those who have been baptized in an unforgiving ocean of despair.  The love of those who have been touched by the love of Christ should be the most radical, merciful, gracious kind of love.  The kid of love that would risk its own security for the sake of another.  A love that would gladly give up its place of comfort so that another can have a meal and a place to lay their head.

We have allowed the big box lie of of the velvet tongued teacher, who is proclaiming security and prosperity, to slither in among us.  These false teachers have told us to just put some tape over the check engine light.  We don't want to be distracted by the glow of negativity.  I say that it is time to get the car looked at.  I say it is time we took this vehicle that is the American Church, in for a tune up.  I fear that we are in for a major overhaul.  At least we won't have to live with a lie.

Justice, Kindness and Humility

With all of the truly heartbreaking things that we hear about in our newsfeed everyday, I was overjoyed this past week to see that my good friends at Micah 6, were able to open Sprout and Micah Sips.  I'll include a link to the Oakland Press article about the grand opening at the bottom of this post.  Sprout is a fresh fruit and vegetable store that is located in place where fresh fruits and vegetables are not easily accessible in Pontiac, Michigan.  Many of the markets and grocery stores in Pontiac have closed which leaves only gas stations and liquor stores within walking distance for many residents.  The food available at a gas station or liquor store is not sufficient to nourish and grow young bodies and minds.  As the Sprout Fresh Food Store opened, Micah 6 was also able to open Micah Sips, a coffee shop that will offer a place for people to come out of the cold and have real conversation as they taste a variety of drink options from around the world.  Micah Sips is set to host its first recovery meeting as well.  The people at Micah 6 saw the needs that Sprout and Micah Sips could meet the moment they moved into the neighborhood.  Micah 6 has been an integral part of their neighborhood in Pontiac since they purchased their first property there.  They have planted gardens, created safe spaces for children to gather, played soccer, given rides, visited friends in hospitals, answered midnight door knocks and just have been truly friendly and present to every person they meet.  I think The Message translation of John 1:14 gets it right: “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.”.  That is what I think of when I see the people and work at Micah 6 Community. As I have shared before, I have been moving through the lectionary at our church in Hastings for just over a year now.  Last week, one of our texts was from Micah 6.  In a time where the church is debating its involvement with the political process, I reflected on the work that my friends are engaged in at Micah 6 and the verse that they have named their non-profit after.

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;     and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness,     and to walk humbly with your God?

I have truly felt helpless the last few weeks.  I wake up and I see decisions that are being made that put many people at risk.  I see decisions being made that silence minority groups, strip people of their land and close the doors on hospitality.  It is all a bit more than I can take.  I know that protest is an option and I am a big supporter of peaceful protest,  but I think we should be doing more.  The churches response over the past few decades has been to try and grab as much political influence as it can to help guide the laws of this land.  Millions of dollars are spent lobbying local and national leaders to put "Christian values" in our government and our schools.  While all of this money is being spent we have seen the treatment of mental illness erode, homeless veterans, abortion rates higher (under conservative leadership), the scapegoating of Muslims, starving children, declining education, and the list goes on and on.  We have forgotten what the scriptures tell us of what God is really requiring of us.  What is good, what does the Lord require?

Justice

The politics of Jesus require Justice.  Justice for the poor, justice for the forgotten, justice for the people who's voice is being choked by regulations and executive orders.  So when the government who rules has forgotten the last and the least, we who have been called to justice, take on flesh and blood and move into the neighborhood.  DO, justice!  Remember the call to do justice when your government has failed you.  You are always free to offer justice to those it has been stolen from.  this is the ultimate political statement.  We need to hold Nero accountable, to prophetically shout down those who make laws that hold people groups in poverty and despair but at the same time we need to DO something about it.  If the government takes away food stamps, feed your neighbor.  If the government cripples the economy and it results in local grocery stores closing their doors, plant a garden and give away the produce.  If the cost of gas continues to rise, carpool and give people rides to doctor's appointments.  We don't have to wait on Nero for our justice, we have the power to do justice, now.

Love Kindness

Notice the difference between asking a person to be kind and the call to love kindness.  With all of the challenges that my friends at Micah 6 experience every day, I can tell you that they love what they do.  Kindness radiates from their very beings.  To see the smiles on young people's faces as they gather in a safe space and the way that it infects every person in the room.  I remember one time when I was riding with Coleman, the founder of Micah 6, through his neighborhood.  We had just left from dropping someone off at their house and we passed another neighbor who was staring up at the sky.  We slowed down to ask what she was looking at.  "I'm looking at the space ship", she said.  Coleman and I looked at one another, not sure how to react.  When we asked for further clarification, she explained how a space shuttle was in orbit and you could see it making a pass directly above us.  We parked the car and stood there for a while with big smiles on our faces.  We had missed it until the kindness of a neighbor broke through our initial judgement and created a moment of wonder.  Kindness takes the time to slow down and look.  Kindness doesn't rush to judgment, it's to busy loving for that.

Walk Humbly

The kind of work that Micah 6 is engaged is real on the ground training.  It isn't just training for those who are new to the community, it is training from the top down.  Mistakes are made, feelings are hurt, road blocks are put up and torn down and it all is a daily challenge.  Humility and really Kingdom work go hand in hand.  If you decide to take part in the politics of Jesus, the kind of politics that don't wait on a politician do what is right, just and merciful, you must take part with a humble heart.  When I first got involved with work in Pontiac, I thought I knew more than I did.  I was pretty sure that I knew what people needed, when they needed it and the best way to offer it.  If you don't humbly listen to the voices of people you are called to serve, you will quickly find that you are serving no person but yourself.  Humility also says that you don't have to recreate the wheel.  If you aren't sure what to do or how to do it, support those who already have boots on the ground.  Micah 6 Community's "Support" page can be found here.  Monthly partnerships and one time donors are greatly needed and appreciated.

http://www.micah6community.com/support

So then, don't be overwhelmed by all of the evil and injustice in this world.  Meet those who are in opposition to the Kingdom of God with a resolve to act.  The call for justice doesn't begin or end in a voting booth.  Love doesn't rise and fall with the political party who holds power for the next four years. The incarnation begins in forgotten communities,  it continues through faithful presence and is made manifest in the lives of all of those who have been touched by its love.

DO justice,

Love Kindness,

Walk Humbly,

To God be the Glory,

Amen

http://www.theoaklandpress.com/general-news/20170123/sprout-fresh-food-store-to-open-in-pontiac

Risky Business

"Bad theology is like pornography-the imagination of a real relationship without the risk of one."-Richard Rohr I've been thinking a lot about my time in my graduate program at Rochester College.  It was a Masters of Religious Education in Missional Leadership.  I still follow the program's Facebook page and as they depart for the semester's intensive weeks around the country, I reflect on the experience that I had as well.  I noticed this past week that the cohort was experiencing the intensive in Portland, Oregon.  I'll never forget a class that we had in our time in Portland where we were forced to really look at what we thought about hell, salvation, other cultures and religious groups and most importantly, why we thought those things.  We had to ask why so many died in Rwanda in a genocide that was one group of Christians ruthlessly eliminating another.  We looked at the way that art and culture intersect faith and belief in so many beautiful and surprising ways.  Those conversations really began a change in me.

Rewind a year or so before that trip when I had applied for a position in the program. I was fresh into ministry and still reeling from my first year in biblical studies.  I was not the typical college ministry graduate who spent a year in ministry and then jumped into a Seminary program.  I had wrestled with the idea of ministry, made a million bad choices, worked in the business world, stumbled into ministry and quickly became aware of how ill-equipped I was.  Couple this with a growing tension within myself where scripture, the move of God and church life seemed to clash, more than inform one another.  I was well trained in intuiting what people wanted to hear from me and playing the part.  I'm not saying that none of it was real but I have to say a good part of it was simply interpreting and then going through the motions.  If I found myself in a group of conservative Christians, I could quickly play the part of conservative.  If I found myself among a more progressive group I would be more than willing to push the boundaries a bit.  I wrote my essay to the head of the department at Rochester College, an essay that I don't wish to revisit any time soon.  In it, I was honest about my past, confused about my present and clueless about my future.  I included goals that if I was to sum up what I wanted then,  would read like, "I really want this piece of paper that will make me legitimate and a person that church people would blindly follow.  I do want to know how to play the part of missionary through different outreach strategies and I would like to learn all of the necessary scriptures to argue why my way is the best.  If I could do this without having to feel doubt, sadness, or any type of inferiority, that would be best.  Best wishes, Your future student, Matt."  It is grace upon grace that someone was willing to take a chance on me.

For most of my life in the church I was able to get by learning answers, remembering verses and taking part in worship.  Engaging scripture was nothing more than finding the right answer to a problem.  Worship was showing up and knowing what came next.  I know I have brought it up before but I can still hear the sound of every hymnal being pulled from the pew at the exact same time.  We often are running through the motions without any real engagement.  Something happened to me in my time with my MREML cohort at Rochester.  I was exposed.  I had treated the books of the bible like some calendar of scantily clad verses and texts.  Each month had its greatest hits.  The verses that gotten me really excited because they were comfortable and brought the most immediate satisfaction.  I realized that for the deep passionate questions we were wrestling through, a quick flip through the pages of scripture would no longer suffice.  I was going to have to give more.  The engagement with scripture and life that I would encounter was going to take all of me.  It would keep me awake at night, wake me up early, beg time and attention when I didn't have it.  A real, honest, engagement with scripture was going to take a relationship and not a peep show.

Richard Rohr's quote at the beginning of this post has a way of slapping you in the face.  It seems harsh and maybe a bit cheeky but there is no way around it.  We have become victims of the pornification of worship and church life.  In fact, we often choose a place of worship based on how it makes us feel.  Can we direct the bright lights, that cost 10 times more than actual buildings in third world countries, to shine in such a way that we don't have to see any of the untrained professionals.  Money is spent on the website that locks our gaze on its amazing fonts and flash content. A new coat of paint, like the layers of make-up, covering the dark circles and wrinkles of a checkered past.  Theater seats greet new members and paying customers alike. Teens and children are hooked by the bright carnival like atmosphere, entranced and enchanted by the show.  "Take the slide to your classroom.", which spills out into a giant ball pit.  "Parents, don't worry, we will text you if we need your help."  James K. A. Smith, in his latest book "You are What You Love", questions these tactics in engaging our church members.  Whether we want to admit it or not, we are afraid that what the gospel has to offer simply isn't enough any more.  It's like the husband or wife that reaches a point in their marriage where they are trying to "keep it fresh and exciting" when all that the marriage actually needs is a return to their first love.  It is the love that the marriage was founded in and on, the covenantal vows and the way that the two remain invested in and attuned to the other that keeps life firing inside.  All the while, society shows us an illusion of beauty that is high on gloss and short on substance.

With all of the risk of a true covenantal relationship, the rise of pornography is a true epidemic in this country.  For many, the risk of relationship is too great.  Why risk the hurt of a relationship, why risk appearing foolish or lacking?  The epidemic even reaches those who are in marriages and relationships, perhaps even more so.  What you are asking for is the one thing that a true partner can not provide:  Relationship without risk.  So, I ask you to look closely at the way that you engage scripture and the church.  Do you back off and disappear when things get rough?  Are you looking for a dressed up and flashy presentation because it is more appealing to the eye?  Have you, within your favorite scriptures, created an incomplete and even false picture of God so as to avoid being challenged?  A real relationship is ugly, messy, disappointing and heartbreaking, while at the same time, the most beautiful thing that we could imagine.  If we presented this messy version of worship life, I think we would be surprised that the very thing we think will push people away will be what draws them in.  Repetitive authenticity may not get you  a mega church but it will transform lives.

For the first time in my life, whether as a lay believer in Christ or as a ministry leader, I can stop being an actor in this porn production.  There are days that I really am just not feeling it.  There are days that I want to swear at people and tell them that I want to be alone.  It isn't always attractive, in fact it is down right ugly.  I cry and whine and complain, I make promises that I don't keep, I declare something to be true that I then have to back out of.  I will give and give and give while all the while playing in my head the way that you will one day owe me a favor.  Sometimes, I don't really feel the text I have to share, I don't like the language in confession or absolution, the wording of the hymn of the day rubs me the wrong way.  There are days that I am a little shaky on the belief thing. But, for the first time in my life, I really like me.  Not the me that I choose to show to you on any given day but the best version of me that I can muster on that day.  It isn't sexy, it won't get you excited, it is rarely full of energy but I can promise that it is real.  That's all I have to offer.   That's the part of marriage that I now love the most.  It's the part where you are just as in love with your spouse when they have bad breath, bad hair, a bad attitude and kid's puke stains on their shirt.  That's the kind of relationship I stay devoted to God in.  A relationship where I don't have to brush my teeth before saying good morning.  I don't have to put on a false face.  I don't have to pretend to enjoy the things that I don't enjoy and I don't have to create a production to impress anyone.  On my best days, I try to rest in these two things:

Every single bit of me is beautifully and wonderfully made.

and

I am loved, just as I am.

Like a Fart in Church

Some of my earliest childhood memories are of the times I spent with my neighbor.  He was 6 or 7 years older than me but always took time to play with me.  He taught me numerous songs that gave such profound wisdom. A whole form of bubbles makes a mass

Look out little brother, I've got gas

A whole group of bubbles, in my heart

Look out little brother, I've gotta fart

We would sing these songs, wander between our properties, play catch, watch music videos, play Atari and ColecoVision, set ants on fire, and set traps in his dad's garden, all before noon.  I remember one day in particular where we had been exploring in his backyard when we came across a dead woodchuck.  His dog Tilly had caught the woodchuck and then left it in the yard to be discovered by its masters.  I don't think I had seen a dead animal, besides maybe a mouse, this close before.  I certainly had never seen what would happen next.  My neighbor took his walking stick and lightly pushed on the stomach of the woodchuck.  This tiny creature let out a fart.  I'm not super proud of my laughter at this discovery but to my 5 year old self, it was the craziest thing I had ever experienced.  What I understand now, that I didn't back then, is that bacteria begin breaking down a dead organism which creates an awful smelling gas.  The pressure that this gas creates is what caused the dead woodchuck to fart.

I was thinking about this experience this week when I read about the sun.  The sun is dying  at the rate of 600 billion tons of gas every second.  The light from this burn is what heats the earth and keeps us from being a ball of ice.  In a certain sense, the sun's death is part of what sustains life here on earth, at least for several billion years.  Imagine if, like the woodchuck, the sun stored that gas created within itself.  That would be one hot fart.

Here's where I hope my sophomoric humor gains some traction.  I'm afraid that much of the church has become nothing more than a "hot fart".  All of creation, the words of the prophets and the teachings of Jesus, are constantly showing us that life actually comes from death.  The death of God in Jesus and the resurrection, the way that a burned forest actually creates more fertile ground, manure in a corn field and yes, even that little woodchuck as it eventually decomposes.  Death is always bringing about new life and yet we are scared to death of it.

Every new encounter that we have, every risk to enter into relationship, is in some way a small death to ourselves.  We give up some component of ourselves as we relate to another human being.  Maybe we don't like when someone talks so loud or so fast, maybe we think their perfume is too strong or wish they would have brushed their teeth.  Maybe we prefer people without tattoo's or piercings, people that don't swear so much or those who avoid confrontation.  I think that is the beauty and the struggle of our human experience.  We all bring such variety to the table.  What churches have done though, is streamlined the process to find your group that requires the least amount of dying.  Even within the same congregation you can find multiple service times that offer a variety of worship styles.  You can live your entire life in a congregation without really experiencing anyone who feels differently than you on any topic.  Even if some small deaths do occur, as we are welcoming and receptive to those different than ourselves, I fear that these small deaths are only occurring within the confines of our congregation or denomination.  Too many of us are fighting to keep the status quo, keep it within the walls, don't give an inch or they'll take a mile.  Seek the old path, get your new members to assimilate as soon as possible.  You see the death of Jesus was for the sake of an expanding kingdom, an inclusive kingdom, a receptive kingdom.  The death of Jesus was calling all of us to die.  Begging us to enter into conversation and relationship, willing to let a part of us die and then to do it again and again.  That we would believe that the new life that would grow from our small deaths would grow something beautiful.

Unfortunately, much of the church is still refusing to die.  The fear of death has caused many to build the walls higher and dig the trenches deeper.  Now with the doors of the church closed and the windows shut tight, even the small examples of death they can muster (usually deciding to allow some different form of worship, rearrange the chairs or even letting a women lead a prayer) are trapped inside those walls and not a spectacle for a desperate world to see.  So even when the waiting world works up the courage to poke at the newly constructed walls, perhaps to see if anything at all still happens there,  I fear they may find nothing but a fart in church.

It doesn't have to be this way.  Open the doors, get outside, remember that the death of Jesus was outside of the city gates.

Hebrews:11Although the high priest brings the blood of animals into the Holy Place as a sacrifice for sin, the bodies are burned outside the camp. 12 And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood.13Therefore let us go to Him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace He bore.…

Allow new relationships with people who think, act and feel differently than you, change you.  The small deaths that you will experience as you begin to see the world through another's eyes will be the very places that new life springs up.  I pray that the church will look a lot more like a sun, or maybe THE Son, than a dead woodchuck.  It's a whole heck of a lot brighter and much less stinky.

Observing the Unknown

One of my favorite things to do as a family is to sit on our comfy couch, all six of us, and watch the latest kid's movie release.  Our youngest doesn't sit too still and unfortunately my wife or I will, purely by habit, glance at our phones.  For the most part we are all with one another, fully present to the moment.  Last night was one of those movie nights for us.  Alivia, our 6 year old is entering this phase of life where she wants to know what is going on, like immediately.  She went with the girls to a performance of Beauty and the Beast, and while her sister sat in wonder and sang along to the whole performance, Alivia asked questions the entire time.  She had a similar experience last night while we all watched The BFG   (The Big Friendly Giant).  "Who's that?", "What's he doing?", "Where are they going?"  She can't help herself.  The suspense is more than she can bear.  What we continued to tell her was that we were experiencing this for the first time as well.  "Let's watch and see, Alivia".  Not only did she miss much of the movie because of her anxiety and questions, along with my wife and I, but she missed the wonder of it all. This experience was fresh in my mind this morning as I was reading Richard Rohr's latest book, The Divine Dance.  In the book, Rohr talks of how in the line of Christian mysticism there have been two ways of knowing.

"The first way of knowing, which was more commonly practiced, was called kataphatic (seen according to light) or the "positive" way, relying on defined words, clear concepts, pictures, and rituals.  Christ as Logos, image, and manifestation embodies this kataphatic, or via positiva, pole.  

And when religion is healthy, happy and mystical, the way of light needs to be balanced by the apophatic (against the light) or "negative" way of darkness, knowing beyond words and images through silence, darkness, open space, and releasing the need to know.  This via negativa is represented by the Ground of Being, or "Father". " 

For the last 500 years or so, according to Rohr, the apophatic has all but disappeared from Christian thought and worship.  We are obsessed with knowing.  We have contests among Christian youth to see who "knows" the most.  We have debates and proof texting to verify and in the middle of it all, the negative space of the apophatic is avoided like the plague.  We just can't seem to be comfortable with not knowing an answer.  Especially for those in leadership, there is this great pressure to know the right answer at the right time.  People become restless with not knowing.  It feels like free falling backwards into a great darkness.  For those who may be unfamiliar with the tradition of the apophatic, it feels an awful lot like losing one's faith.

For Alivia, watching that movie last night, unknowing was more than she could take.  For many Christians, the pressure of not knowing all of the answers, the particulars, the reasons, leads them to beg unknowable answers from the nearest clergy.  Unfortunately, there are one too many clergy who are eager to put their "member's" questioning minds at ease.  My wife and I could have done that with Alivia during the movie last night.  The truth is, even though we had read the book by that same title at some point in our childhood, we didn't remember or "know" what was going to happen next.  We could make guesses based on what was playing out in front of us, but movies have a funny way of throwing curveballs every once and awhile.  This is how it is with our faith.  We have some things that we can hold such as sacrament, scripture, Saints, sermons and even experiences that we have received some sort of insight from.  We have the experience of Eucharist every Sunday but as we reflect on this act, we have this unknown of how bread becomes flesh and wine becomes blood.  How when we partake within our communities we participate with Christ in being broken and poured out for the sake of the world.  The more we hold these holy experiences with humility and the less we try to explain and categorize them, the more they retain their power to move us.  Perhaps we have become too skilled in our explanations of what is happening on the cross, at the table and in the grave.

So what we ended up trying to teach Alivia through this experience was this;  You have to take the words and images that you see and use them to decipher what is happening and to dream of what may happen.  If you see something that you aren't sure what it is or what it means, remember it, be amazed by it, but don't over analyze it.  Let the movie play out before you.  Be willing to be surprised by making a mistaken assumption of what was happening, or being wrong about the type of character you thought you were seeing and just hold tight as it is revealed on the screen.

So the challenge for me in faith is very much the same.  We have been given the history of God's people, the first and second testaments, the sacraments, all as tools to learn and discern who God is, what He is up to, and how we can participate with Him.  But let us never make the mistake of believing those things to be God or another member of the Trinity.  Let us never think that God or his ways can fully be known.  When Moses asked, no, begged God to give him His name, he told Moses "I AM who I AM".  That was enough for Moses.  He was willing to watch it all play out with that simple reassurance.  The reassurance came in part through the realization that God could not be fully know.  God is too big for that.  Let that be enough.  It is the Spirit that does the work of hovering between the known and the unknown, the darkness and the light, certainty and doubt, and even death and life.  The moment we demand to know, we rush to know, we pretend to know, we assume the work of the Spirit.  I have learned that the Holy Spirit is a lot better at holding tension than I am.  We don't have to know it.  That's as good of news as any.  We get to observe in wonder and awe at this great story that plays out in front of us.  It doesn't mean that we are inactive. We are active observers, moved by the Spirit of God for the sake of His creation.  We will guess wrong about the characters in the tale.  Some that we believe to be heroes are actually villains and those we feared at the beginning of the tale become our greatest allies and teachers.  But, this only happens if we balance the apophatic and kataphatic so that they exist in a "non-dual consciousness called faith".

So, I leave you with a prayer that was included in the book.  I pray that it helps to navigate this tension through the work of the Spirit.

God for us, we call you Father.

God alongside us, we call you Jesus. 

God within us, we call you Holy Spirit.

You are the eternal mystery that enables, enfolds, and enlivens all things,

Even us and even me.

Every name falls short of your goodness and greatness.

We can only see who you are in what is.

We ask for such perfect seeing-

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.

Amen

And Yet Even Now

What was the price given for a soul such as yours? I see you sold it because the waters you sail on the sea of pass fail, your ship crushing the wails of humanity asking for a hand up were getting too rocky to navigate.

Your compass' been broken, now a token of Pastor so and so, the late.

Your wind was the whim of one nation under the God of greed Forgetting that so many bleed out forgotten The mana in the storehouse now rotten Full of worms, full of dust, but we must rely on daily bread Not a head of knowledge, puffed up, whose empty cup is a colander, replacing wonder with certainty, if a man is hurt than he must've deserved it.

So lets check the text that you thump on the heads of the sinners and hexed.  Let's see the words of your "lord" as he describes the kind of kingdom his word rings true in.  I'll line up the blessings of Christ with the zeitgeist of evangelicalism, fundamentalism cloaked in false love, a clipped wing dove in a cage.  A sight to behold but a ghost of the real thing.

Here we go

The meek are mocked, their peaceful protest leading to the innocent locked up in cells of shame, they'll never work again, not with a record like that. Men should be strong and women the lesser, even though every confessor knows,  Mary carried God in her womb, was the first to his tomb.  The meek inherit the earth be carrying hope, full term.

The poor are blessed, if they kneel to the God of the West. Work for a living for a man who is giving them death in the way he enslaves to a paycheck. Be at their beck and call. Work nights to keep the lights on in a house you barely see.  A family who pleads for one more hour, one more day, play catch in the yard but it's hard when you haven't slept in weeks.

Those who hunger and thirst must be the worst of the worst or else why is there no remedy. I don't know, let me see, build one less weapon of war, docked on the shore of a land kept free by might. What about the freedom that comes in being right, not the dualistic fight, but righteousness. Kept free because you are kind and just. That freedom comes at a price we won't allow, too hard to lay down your gun for a plow to see lions feed on the same straw as cows. Now that would be something. To see blessing in persecution, not killing our enemies through electrocution. Seeing them as good, made of the same stuff, saying enough is enough of an eye for an eye.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.  Mercy, not your condemnation, see that ship has sailed.  Your false mercy pales in comparison to the real thing. The law saves no one, God does that, through those who don't point in judgement at the drop of a hat.  Looking for someone to step out of line because "their sin is different than mine".  The merciful don't offer vinegar to the thirsty, something worse to he who's laying in a desert of despair, not only not caring but wishing ill.  Is there no balm in Gilead, or is it being hoarded for the "elect".  Well, last I checked, it was the World God so loved.

And yet even now says the Lord, he offers that mercy you refused.  That mercy you used up, packaged for sale at Family Christian through InterVarsity Press.  Selling the best for the "blessed", well,  this mercy is available to those who repent.  Just change your mind from being hell bent on sending people there.  Tear your heart not your clothes, once you know the conditions they were made in, that savings bin you pulled them from will never look the same.  Return to the Lord for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  The world is crying for a love like that.  The kind that can't be shaken or stirred by a word or misstep.  The kind that's awakened by a bird and hyssop.  So God, renew our hearts and our spirit, if you speak, let us hear it.  You are making all things new, that includes the pews of our temples, our steeples, the hearts and minds of the peoples of this spinning dot.  The power you've got was enough for me.  That's saying a lot.

Lament

A couple of nights ago, Everett was sharing his normal end of the evening thoughts with Niki.  I think I have shared on here before that Everett has a way of saving up all of his deepest thoughts before finally opening up just as we are trying to get him to go to sleep.  That particular evening he shared with Niki, "Mom.  I'm afraid of Donald Trump winning".  Though Niki shared a similar fear, she did what good Mom's do and asked "Oh, honey.  Why are you afraid".  His reply has stuck in my head and has been pounding to match the throbs of my depression induced headache this morning.  He said "I'm not afraid for me, I'm afraid for my black and brown friends".  Some of you may read that and roll your eyes and some of you may think we let our kid hear too much of our talk about the election.  I'm guessing for many of you though, you have similar stories of uttered or repressed fears that we have seen in our children.  Niki was thoughtful and was able to reassure him that there are good people in this world and that we will all fight to make sure that his friends would be protected but to be honest, I'm a little afraid too. Let me be clear, I don't think that the danger in this world or all of the hate, racism and bigotry that so many people experience on a daily basis can be blamed on Donald Trump.  I'm pretty sure that we have elected some pretty horrible people in this nation's past.  The thing that scares me today is this rising boldness in people who hold some extremely hate filled beliefs.  I feel a lot like Everett this morning.  I'm afraid for my gay friends, my African American friends, women, those who hold different religious beliefs or those who have no religious beliefs at all.  This morning I have seen notes placed on a young Lesbian woman's car, gloating about a Trump win and telling her to repent or "burn in hell".  I have seen people in North Carolina, dressed in KKK hoods and robes, dancing on a bridge for all who pass under the bridge to see.  I have seen people tie this Presidential victory to God's chosen plan for our country and calling Donald Trump "God's elect".

I know that everyone that voted for Donald Trump is not a racist.  This was a confusing election.  My dude Bernie Sanders was out in the primaries and I wasn't super pumped about Hillary but whenever I started to think about not voting for her, my mind went to those who had more at stake in the election.  My friends who now have to wonder if a business will refuse them service because they are gay.  They have to wonder if the marriage they have to their partner that they love and are fully devoted to, will no longer be recognized as legal.  Many Muslims who have heard the talk of them being deported or if they leave the country they have to wonder if they will be let back in.  Not to mention the threats of violence against them as individuals or their places of worship.  For my African American brothers and sisters, in a time where police brutality and wild incarceration rates for young black men and many other pressing concerns, they wonder how much longer they will have to endure racial injustice.  For all of the people, including family members, who rely on welfare programs to eat and have a roof over their heads.  When I started to think more about what would be the best for the people who are under represented in our political sphere, my vote became less difficult.

Today, many people are calling for everyone to get over it and move on in unity.  I say, not so fast.  I say that isn't your call.  Not if you never have had to worry about your marriage being termed invalid.  Not if you have never literally had to look over your back because of your religious beliefs.  Not if you have never had to worry about being beaten or unfairly treated by a police officer when you were pulled over.  Not if you have never had your people group called a bunch of thugs and racists by the person who just won the presidency.  The time for reconciliation will come, you just don't get to push the agenda.  I suggest, for those Trump supporters who are waiting to move on and get along with things, while you are waiting you try and see things from someone's perspective other than your own.  I know you were afraid of losing your rights but I promise you, that fear is a very realistic one for many Americans this morning.

As for my son Everett, I am so proud to call him my son.  As I have been in a funk today and unsure about the future of things, I find hope in this one thing.  We will one day leave this country to brilliant, compassionate people like him.  I guarantee that our children will do better than we have.  May the God of peace work wonders in our hearts, for the sake of future generations.

You, Wonderful You

My oldest son is so kind to share a room with his baby brother.  There is a seven year age gap and I think it is pretty cool that a 9 year old is cool with sharing space with a 2 year old.  Either my wife Niki or I usually have to lay in the room until little Archie falls asleep.  Well, we have found that just before bed is the one time that Everett's mind slows down enough to share any of the details of his day.  He will talk for 30 to 40 minutes, more if we allowed it, about Minecraft, some music he had heard that day, some comedy routines he is working on (for his own amusement), or what the latest news from school is.  Last night Niki was laying in their room waiting for Archie to fall asleep.  Archie had just rolled over, tucked his knees under his belly, butt sticking up, adorable face turned to the side when he let out a sigh that signaled he was ready for sleep.  Everett was staring with wonder at his baby brother when he said "he's just so funny".  He went on to tell about all of the funny things that Archie had done that day, how he put a stuffed BB-8 on his Thomas Trains and was giving it a ride, his laughter, the way if you don't keep one eye on Archie, you may get hit in the head with a toy.  Everett then went on to tell his favorite things about his other siblings.  "Alivia is just so talented.  She's a great dancer and artist, and she's just a strong person".  "Judah is always writing and singing songs and she's so loving".  I think we could all learn from that example of an end of the day reflection.  Everett chose to celebrate the unique traits that his siblings exhibit. The truth is, our kids are quite different from one another.  Everett lives a good part of his life in his head.  It is only when he opens his mouth and manages to speak above a mumble that you hear the wisdom that he possesses.  It must be difficult for someone who appreciates quiet like he does to deal with his sister Alivia who is quite "in your face" with her feelings and emotions.  She's dramatic and brilliantly talented but in a totally different way.  Judah is the type of kid who I'm pretty sure just sees pink rainbows and hears magical fairies singing all the time.  She laughs and hums to herself and loves snuggling up to whoever will give her their lap.  Archie is bold and athletic.  He goes a million miles an hour until he can't go anymore.  His sleep is as active as his play.  He tosses and flips and turns his way over the bed.  I've never met a child who's personality shows itself more, even in slumber.  That's why I love Everett's kind words for his siblings even more.  He celebrated their differences.

Too You

"Too You" was what I had originally titled this post.  I had written a whole post about how we are so good at finding the aspects of each other's personalities that drive us crazy but I didn't know how to finish it until I remembered what Everett had done.  I realized that's where I needed to start.  It is true though, if we are a quiet person then other people are too loud, if we are direct and bold, we hate it when people don't share what's on their mind, if we are conservative we resent a person that lives a bit more free.  What we really mean when we say that a person is  "too ____" is that they aren't enough like us.  That's a tougher truth to handle.  Our inner critic comes out and we observe everyone we come in contact with.  It's as if there is this perfect idea of the way we want people to be in this world, even though I don't know if we would even recognize it if we saw it.  We really see this played out in Social Media more than anywhere else.  All of the pent-up rage that people feel, having to walk this earth with people that think and behave differently from them, comes out in every comment section.  People are too conservative, too liberal, too progressive, too reckless, too giving, too needy, too inclusive, too fat, too skinny, it is enough to make your head explode.  I am convinced that Facebook scrolling has trained our minds to make snap decisions about people and their opinions.  I think it started as a defense mechanism to keep ourselves sane.  If you weren't in the right mental and emotional space while you were on Facebook, you might see a post from someone who is a a supporter of the "other" political party and to keep yourself from hating that person you made a quick judgement.  You made an assumption about what they were probably saying and decided to read or keep scrolling.  That might be a good thing, in some way, but what is happening is that those quick judgements have actually created a mind of their own.  We have stopped assessing what a person is saying and instead have made up our minds before we hear what they have to say.  That is a BAD thing.  Navigating Facebook can be like walking an active minefield.  I feel the tension as I scroll, half hoping that I on't see anything that makes me mad and half hoping that I do so I can get the last word in.  Lord, have mercy.

A person's goodness is not bound by what they think about politics.  A person's holiness is not exclusively tied to the picture or meme that they shared for the day.  It is not in the outfit they decided to wear, the non-profit they support, the bands they like to listen to.  It is not in whether they homeschool or not, if they celebrate halloween, Christmas, Kwanza,  Yom Kippur, Ramadan or any other day.  Who they are is not exclusive to their opinions about vaccines or health food.  People are good because they are beautifully and wonderfully made.  People are complex, confusing and intersecting beings.  The way that a person's environment, up bringing, religious affiliation (or lack of one), diet,  and culture all play into what they say and do is astounding.  But we don't celebrate that.  Instead of taking the time to see a person's uniqueness we are stuck in the rut of trying to boil a person's many traits into one clever meme.

I'm taking a page from Everett's book of wisdom.  He didn't see his sister that sometimes can be so hyper that she hurts him as annoying.  He saw the beauty in her strength and energy.  So I too refuse to see someone's post or hear that conversation in a coffee shop and label them as too conservative or as fundamentalists.  Those people are people trying to figure all of this craziness out, just like me.  They are complex beings that have millions of factors that play into what I see for a split second in public or every day from what they choose to share on Social Media.  They have fears and failures, dreams and ambitions that I am unaware of.  I need them, just as much as they need me.  I am trying to learn that it is better to celebrate the good than to critique the misunderstood.  Lord, this is my prayer for today, and a cry for fresh mercy tomorrow.

Confessions

"Guard your rights!" white flight's left the grounded plight of the black man's fight

One man soars and clips wings while the old spiritual sings "we shall overcome"

futures are lost and won on the streets while the rich white man's son beats and rapes,

those asleep, unaware, underprepared, ill equipped to face the grip of male privilege

He got off early, for "white behavior" dad golfs with a judge, in the den he gave him a nudge, "remember when I did that thing for your son".

It's a good ol boy's network, stacking decks while the necks of the poor, the brown and women wear crowns of shame

while the lame struggle to dip a toe in the pool, white fools playing Marco Polo, in their Polos and khakis, riding with the top down with some congressional lackey

"Real power rests with the people" and now the fundamentalists steeples, erected to fly high in the square

But the cross no longer represents those sworn to death, but the kind of death their unrighteous judgement brings to gay men and women, looking to those who are supposed to represent love, to acknowledge their love for one another.

They're all looking elsewhere, cause' the cross has been swapped for a sword

The grieved Spirit quenched by the lord of pride, not for the one who died, but the pied piper of consumerism, rallying the elect and erect fat men of Wall Street to meet the demands of first our minds and now our hearts, cause that's where it starts

The revolution of our evolutionary man.  Buy more, use, discard, rinse, repeat as necessary.  We will just bury the evidence in an unmarked grave, resurrected as retro, and we'll all be saved.

To wrap it up, WE did this.  I mean we white men, we white colonial, land stealing, blood dealing men, have this in our DNA

We can keep trying to wash it free but to you and me

life was cut short, land claimed, slaves whipped and maimed,

to those who just turned their heads, that man is dead because YOU didn't speak up

You lived privileged and white, as if your privilege doesn't come at a price.

Jesus paid it all, yes, but the banks are coming for interest.

Wrangling Over Words

A couple of years ago, when I was still in Pontiac doing ministry, I ran into a friend from college.  We were both trying to figure out what faithfulness and this whole Christianity thing looked like, back then, and it was good to see that both of us had grown to become more engaged with ministry in different ways.  We happened to cross paths at a dinner that a non-profit was hosting and he accidentally left his change of shoes at our church building.  It was his idea that maybe he could come on a Sunday morning for bible study and church and grab the shoes he had left while he was there.  I was excited to have another meet up and for him to get to experience a Sunday morning at our church.  I had warned him that it may be a little different than what he was used to.  Our building, at the time, was right smack dab in the middle of downtown Pontiac.  We had begun serving breakfast to our homeless brothers and sisters before bible study and had invited anyone to stick around for service.  We had some amazing relationships form with many of the people who found their way to our building on a Sunday morning.  Relationships that have outlasted my time in Pontiac.  We also had some people who would find their way into our building on Sunday morning that may have got an early start on alcohol consumption for the day, some who were understandably angry, and many who suffered from some form of mental illness.  So I warned my friend that each Sunday morning was different.  To loosely quote Forrest Gump "Our Sunday mornings are like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get".

The Sunday he showed up was an interesting one to say the least.  We had a few arguments that happened during breakfast, I couldn't possibly remember what about, and he showed up as bible study was beginning.  We had some strong readings from scripture and many passionate testimonies of how the text was speaking directly to people's lives.  Well, at some point the testimonies and interpretations turned into one-upping and arguments.  I don't know how we got there but at one point people were lifting shirts to reveal knife and gun shot scars, arguing about who understood hard living better than the other.  This was the point where my friend decided to make his exit.  He looked at me, with eyes wide and fearful and said, "This *$%& is crazy, I've got to go".  I don't blame him.  I mean it was crazy and shouldn't have happened.  Add to it, that this was probably as far from his church experience growing up as a person could get.  As he left, he said I could just keep his shoes and give them to someone who needed them and he was gone.

What made me think of that story this morning was one of the Lectionary texts for the week.

2 Timothy: 2:14 Remind them of this, and warn them before God that they are to avoid wrangling over words, which does no good but only ruins those who are listening.

2:15 Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved by him, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly explaining the word of truth.

What my friend had walked into on that Sunday morning was a wrangling over words.  People were arguing over what it really looked like to live a hard life, who could truly identify with the author of a text, who's interpretation carried more credibility.  It brought ruin to at least one person who was listening.  The good thing is that I am sure that my friend returned to his congregation, probably had an interesting story to tell, and maybe even struggled with what he had seen, but he is still a believer.  What scares me about the way that "believers" can wrangle over the words of a text is the way that they have little to no care for the observers of their wrangling.  My friend was troubled to the point that he walked away, but he was already a believer.  What of those who on any given Sunday morning, built up the courage to walk into a church building for the first time in a long time or maybe the first time ever.  What if those brave visitors never come back.  I have sat in on many Sunday morning bible studies, elder meetings, and home study groups, where the members argue about interpretations of a text.  Move it out to Facebook and Twitter, comment sections of blogs, and reviews of books and you will see people spitting venomous critique of the way that another person has experienced God and reads scripture.  We are wrangling over words and I fear bringing ruin to the observer and ourselves.

I think part of the problem with this text from 2 Timothy is in the following verse.  We read "rightly explaining the word of truth" and our minds go to the idea that we can somehow hold the "right" understanding.  So now our arguments are an attempt to make sure the other person has the right understanding of the word of truth.  But the text says "rightly explaining".  The challenge is in explaining what we understand to be true in a right or righteous way. Just as the verse says that a wrangling of words can bring ruin, I believe that a righteous sharing of your view of the truth can bring new life.  How many times have we heard this, "It's not what you said it's how you said it."?  There is a world full of people that consider themselves spiritual and looking for truth.  If the church is stuck wrangling over words those seekers certainly aren't going to focus their attention on the church because it wasn't what you said, it was how you said it.  Let's be more concerned with righteous telling than right knowing.  I think that is the only proper disposition to receive true wisdom from God.