Actually, there was only one ... to begin with. And it was white; white frame, though some of the paint had faded and chipped off to reveal the brown wood beneath.
I went to church there my freshman year in college with some friends who were older and had cars - since this church was more than twenty miles away in a tiny town across the river.
The name isn't important.
What happened there is, and is the sad story I'm telling. This little church was so small - maybe 30 souls on a Sunday morning - that our visits made quite an impact on attendance. Most of those members were older ladies, a few teen girls, a minister, and the two elders.
The two of them are at the heart of the story, you see.
One of them said something about the other in a barber shop in a town so small that you can't even mutter to yourself without everyone knowing what's on your heart.
I don't know what it was that he said. I didn't live there, you see.
And it's not important to the story.
So the elder who was spoken of by the other pulled up roots and moved about half of the souls in that church with him, over to the abandoned, faded white concrete block building that the Baptists used to use. And in a town too small to have a second stop sign, there were two churches with the same name on their signs.
In the years since then I've told myself that, at 19, I was too young to interfere. Too young to know what to do. But, truth is, I knew what to say. I had read Matthew 18. I had read the letters to Timothy. I could have gently entreated those two church fathers to go to each other and iron out the wrinkles in their relationship; to demonstrate the power of penitence and forgiveness; to show their small community how important is the unity that Christ died to establish among His brothers and sisters.
But I didn't. And neither did anyone else.
It's an intimidating prospect. It's not something you would feel confident about doing. It's not something in which very many people have experience and expertise.
There are a few.
I can recommend a couple of excellent resources for churches - large or small - which need help dealing with conflicts - whether those are large or small. For the ones with problems that might be solved internally, there are outstanding materials available through Peacemaker Ministries. For churches who need help from an outside party (interested, rather than disinterested, in the unity of the saints), I recommend the Center for Conflict Resolution at Abilene Christian University. (My wife Angi had a hand in helping establish it, and some genuinely gifted people like its director Joey Cope and Jerry Strader and Charles Siburt and many others put their very hearts into its mission.)
I've never gone back to that little town in Arkansas with the two little brown churches ... maybe because I still feel a bit guilty about my silence.
I'd like to hope that in the 30+ years since, the rift has healed; that there is still one and only one church there; and that on one or the other of those two miniature buildings a fresh coat of glistening white is applied from time to time.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Beyond the Rituals:Letting God Reign in Your Life
Laughing at God
There is a temptation is to laugh at God’s requests, “Surely, God, you don’t mean it!”
"Osaiywa!" (Pray for me). Yelled a babbling crazy man.
Two hundred Africans packed into a mud and wattle building intended for a quarter that number; every chair, bench, and spot on the dirt floor occupied. The crazy man sat near the rear of our packed crowd. His eyes, smoky windows into a hollow room, his mind, clouded by years, yet he persisted, "Osaiywa!".
"Pray for me!" An appropriate request in such an assembly, but the timing was off. We were in the midst of the sermon. Prayer requests were for later. We ignored his first interruption, stared in annoyance at his second, and finally, on his third tirade we hushed him with the promise of our prayers, later, at the appropriate time. This satisfied him, and he sat silently through the next two hours of preaching.
Then, when we were ready, prayer requests were taken. We noted each, then sang another song, prayed a general prayer, listened to a guest youth chorus, and asked for announcements. Instructions were given to visitors regarding a special lunch for them, and someone was selected to lead the closing prayer. That’s when some thinking soul interrupted and sheepishly mentioned the crazy man -- we had almost forgotten his request.
He rose with effort and crept forward with the groping gait of one moving through a dense fog. Carefully, slowly, haltingly, he navigated through an obstacle course of legs and small children who littered the path between his seat and the front. The eyes of the crowd were on him; not compassionate eyes, but sarcastic, rolling eyes that saw absurdity and humor in the old man's manner.
When he reached the front, three of our elders circled around the hunched Patriarch and placing their hands on his trembling shoulders, bowed their heads to petition in his behalf before God. Being good men, they earnestly sought Divine intervention for the old fellow.
I noticed several teenage girls exchanging glances from beneath bowed heads (Yes. I have an amazing ability to close both eyes, bow my head and still see what’s happening in the room.). They labored to hide their amusement, but the continued trade of glances and smiles brought them to the verge of uncontrolled giggles. They obviously felt that the number of "crazies" was now up to four.
Perhaps their assessment of the situation had to do with youth -- when everything serious is silly. Perhaps, it was a bit humorous -- that old man, in the throws of senility, shuffling up before our crowd. Before the prayer concluded they recomposed themselves, donned the costume of religious solemnity, and closed their eyes just ahead of the "Amen".
Laughing at God’s isn’t something new--
-- A frantic father’s daughter is dying. Before reaching home news arrives that she is dead. Catching the words before they crush him, Jesus assures, "The little girl is not dead but asleep." The Scriptures say, "But they laughed at him."
-- "Jesus! Jesus! Heal me!" Pleading words of a beggar man rose from the streets of Jericho. "It's old blind Bartimaeus," Someone snickered, "Someone shut him up!".
-- An ailing woman, weakened from blood loss and penniless from years of paying doctors, convinces herself that if only she can touch Jesus' shirt she can be healed-- though the experts tell her she is being ridiculous and should accept her situation. She tracks him down anyway. Ever so reverently, she tugs on His sleeve. Her touch stops the Healer in his tracks. "Who touched me?" Snickers sputter and embarrassed smirks crisscross the faces of the pushing, jarring crowd, betraying their thoughts; "Is he nuts? Everyone is touching him! Ha. Ha."
-- "Roll away the stone!" Jesus commands. In the rear, smiles flare. The hired mourners catch themselves sharing the crowd's amusement, but quickly recompose and regain their professional sorrow. Even Mary questions his sanity, "Why, Lord, it's been four days. I mean by now he's..."
-- "But Lord, we've fished here all night!" Peter looks back over his shoulder and under his breath cracks a joke to his angling buddies about folks who think they know all about fishing. "All right Lord, we'll try it one more time, just for you. OK fellas, let's humor the Teacher. Pitch your end on the count of three."
-- A room bursts into panic. Those seated fall backward in startled retreat. Those standing duck low. The roof collapses; and when the dust settles, a paraplegic and his blushing friends stare straight into the face of an amused crowd and an angry homeowner. "What idiots!"
Like getting the giggles at church -- inappropriate, but uncontrollable -- the roll of awkward moments continues, when Jesus, on the brink of Divine demonstration, is heckled by snickering sinners and doubting devotees. Listen to their words:
"But how far will so little go among so many?"
"Never Lord! This shall never happen to you."
"When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, 'He is out of his mind!'"
But the old adage applies that, "He who laughs last, laughs longest." Can't you imagine Bartimaeus giggling like a kid as he leapt and ran for the first time in
his life? Or can you see the little girl's flushed lips breaking into a wide grin when she opened her eyes and looked up into her Mother's face? Can't you envision a tidal wave of wrinkles rippling across the healed woman's face every time she cornered one of her former physicians and reminded him, "See, I told you so!"? Mary must have fairly soared with delight as she peeled away the linen strips from Lazarus' face, revealing that familiar lopsided grin of his. How many times do you guess Peter entertained audiences over the years with the retelling of his whale-of-a-tale fishing story? Or, in all history's laboring, can you imagine any job that may have been done with more exuberance than the re-roofing of that house by the former paraplegic?
The crowds were amazed, and we have to wonder what other rib-tickling marvels Jesus was poised to perform, but couldn't, because folks were too preoccupied giggling.
Would you laugh if someone suggested there are things, wonderful things, miraculous things, new things, world changing things God may desire to do in our own time? For the times I have laughed let me request, "Osaiywa".
"Faith is confidence -- founded upon the unfailing almighty character of God -- that the possibilities are limitless" --O. Michel
"Believe me when I say that anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these...." Jn 14:12
There is a temptation is to laugh at God’s requests, “Surely, God, you don’t mean it!”
"Osaiywa!" (Pray for me). Yelled a babbling crazy man.
Two hundred Africans packed into a mud and wattle building intended for a quarter that number; every chair, bench, and spot on the dirt floor occupied. The crazy man sat near the rear of our packed crowd. His eyes, smoky windows into a hollow room, his mind, clouded by years, yet he persisted, "Osaiywa!".
"Pray for me!" An appropriate request in such an assembly, but the timing was off. We were in the midst of the sermon. Prayer requests were for later. We ignored his first interruption, stared in annoyance at his second, and finally, on his third tirade we hushed him with the promise of our prayers, later, at the appropriate time. This satisfied him, and he sat silently through the next two hours of preaching.
Then, when we were ready, prayer requests were taken. We noted each, then sang another song, prayed a general prayer, listened to a guest youth chorus, and asked for announcements. Instructions were given to visitors regarding a special lunch for them, and someone was selected to lead the closing prayer. That’s when some thinking soul interrupted and sheepishly mentioned the crazy man -- we had almost forgotten his request.
He rose with effort and crept forward with the groping gait of one moving through a dense fog. Carefully, slowly, haltingly, he navigated through an obstacle course of legs and small children who littered the path between his seat and the front. The eyes of the crowd were on him; not compassionate eyes, but sarcastic, rolling eyes that saw absurdity and humor in the old man's manner.
When he reached the front, three of our elders circled around the hunched Patriarch and placing their hands on his trembling shoulders, bowed their heads to petition in his behalf before God. Being good men, they earnestly sought Divine intervention for the old fellow.
I noticed several teenage girls exchanging glances from beneath bowed heads (Yes. I have an amazing ability to close both eyes, bow my head and still see what’s happening in the room.). They labored to hide their amusement, but the continued trade of glances and smiles brought them to the verge of uncontrolled giggles. They obviously felt that the number of "crazies" was now up to four.
Perhaps their assessment of the situation had to do with youth -- when everything serious is silly. Perhaps, it was a bit humorous -- that old man, in the throws of senility, shuffling up before our crowd. Before the prayer concluded they recomposed themselves, donned the costume of religious solemnity, and closed their eyes just ahead of the "Amen".
Laughing at God’s isn’t something new--
-- A frantic father’s daughter is dying. Before reaching home news arrives that she is dead. Catching the words before they crush him, Jesus assures, "The little girl is not dead but asleep." The Scriptures say, "But they laughed at him."
-- "Jesus! Jesus! Heal me!" Pleading words of a beggar man rose from the streets of Jericho. "It's old blind Bartimaeus," Someone snickered, "Someone shut him up!".
-- An ailing woman, weakened from blood loss and penniless from years of paying doctors, convinces herself that if only she can touch Jesus' shirt she can be healed-- though the experts tell her she is being ridiculous and should accept her situation. She tracks him down anyway. Ever so reverently, she tugs on His sleeve. Her touch stops the Healer in his tracks. "Who touched me?" Snickers sputter and embarrassed smirks crisscross the faces of the pushing, jarring crowd, betraying their thoughts; "Is he nuts? Everyone is touching him! Ha. Ha."
-- "Roll away the stone!" Jesus commands. In the rear, smiles flare. The hired mourners catch themselves sharing the crowd's amusement, but quickly recompose and regain their professional sorrow. Even Mary questions his sanity, "Why, Lord, it's been four days. I mean by now he's..."
-- "But Lord, we've fished here all night!" Peter looks back over his shoulder and under his breath cracks a joke to his angling buddies about folks who think they know all about fishing. "All right Lord, we'll try it one more time, just for you. OK fellas, let's humor the Teacher. Pitch your end on the count of three."
-- A room bursts into panic. Those seated fall backward in startled retreat. Those standing duck low. The roof collapses; and when the dust settles, a paraplegic and his blushing friends stare straight into the face of an amused crowd and an angry homeowner. "What idiots!"
Like getting the giggles at church -- inappropriate, but uncontrollable -- the roll of awkward moments continues, when Jesus, on the brink of Divine demonstration, is heckled by snickering sinners and doubting devotees. Listen to their words:
"But how far will so little go among so many?"
"Never Lord! This shall never happen to you."
"When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, 'He is out of his mind!'"
But the old adage applies that, "He who laughs last, laughs longest." Can't you imagine Bartimaeus giggling like a kid as he leapt and ran for the first time in
his life? Or can you see the little girl's flushed lips breaking into a wide grin when she opened her eyes and looked up into her Mother's face? Can't you envision a tidal wave of wrinkles rippling across the healed woman's face every time she cornered one of her former physicians and reminded him, "See, I told you so!"? Mary must have fairly soared with delight as she peeled away the linen strips from Lazarus' face, revealing that familiar lopsided grin of his. How many times do you guess Peter entertained audiences over the years with the retelling of his whale-of-a-tale fishing story? Or, in all history's laboring, can you imagine any job that may have been done with more exuberance than the re-roofing of that house by the former paraplegic?
The crowds were amazed, and we have to wonder what other rib-tickling marvels Jesus was poised to perform, but couldn't, because folks were too preoccupied giggling.
Would you laugh if someone suggested there are things, wonderful things, miraculous things, new things, world changing things God may desire to do in our own time? For the times I have laughed let me request, "Osaiywa".
"Faith is confidence -- founded upon the unfailing almighty character of God -- that the possibilities are limitless" --O. Michel
"Believe me when I say that anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these...." Jn 14:12
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Morning Coffee:Gourmet thoughts for your day.
SUNRISE
It's early. Coffee is brewing. Our mountain's hem is glowing in faint silver. The sun will rise soon.
When’s the last time you watched the sun rise? Yesterday? Been awhile? Watching this one with me?
Maybe I should clarify, because I may be asking a different question than you think. I’m not asking when you last saw a risen sun—which is also a beautiful thing. I’m asking, “When was the last time you watched the sun’s rising?"
To witness that fiery ball rupture the horizon and gradually climb into full view you have to stop and focus. Although the earth is spinning at terrific speed, the sun’s rising is almost imperceptible. In fact, without careful observance, little appears to be happening. One second the first bright edge bursts from below the horizon, the next it’s fully launched into the sky’s blue. Silently, steadily, quickly the whole thing transpires with our without our notice.
Other life events can slip by without our notice. Aging, for example. One day we want to be sixteen, then, in no time, we wonder how we got to sixty!
Our children’s growing up is like our own—here and then gone. They break in like bright rays on a steady horizon. Newborns spark a twinkle in a Dad’s eye and spread a warm glow across Mom’s face. Then, before we know it, they’ve launched out on their own...into the blue.
We miss the sun’s rising because we’re too tired, too busy, and too preoccupied. We miss our children’s growing up for the same reasons.
While it’s unfortunate to miss a morning sunrise, it’s a tragedy to miss our children’s childhood. The sun will rise again tomorrow, but their childhood is once.
Today, notice your children. Hold them. Talk to them. Read them a story, or even better, tell them one. Instead of watching T.V., throw the ball. Turn off the phone and tune into their day. Tell them how wonderful they are.
Stop! Look into their eyes. Read their posture. Search their hearts. Sit at their bedside and watch them sleep, listen to them breathe, pray over them. Cherish them.
Many of life’s most beautiful and most precious things pass silently by us unless we resolve not to miss them. No matter their age or distance pause today and enjoy your children. Go ahead. Do what’s brewing in your heart. It’s still early.
It's early. Coffee is brewing. Our mountain's hem is glowing in faint silver. The sun will rise soon.
When’s the last time you watched the sun rise? Yesterday? Been awhile? Watching this one with me?
Maybe I should clarify, because I may be asking a different question than you think. I’m not asking when you last saw a risen sun—which is also a beautiful thing. I’m asking, “When was the last time you watched the sun’s rising?"
To witness that fiery ball rupture the horizon and gradually climb into full view you have to stop and focus. Although the earth is spinning at terrific speed, the sun’s rising is almost imperceptible. In fact, without careful observance, little appears to be happening. One second the first bright edge bursts from below the horizon, the next it’s fully launched into the sky’s blue. Silently, steadily, quickly the whole thing transpires with our without our notice.
Other life events can slip by without our notice. Aging, for example. One day we want to be sixteen, then, in no time, we wonder how we got to sixty!
Our children’s growing up is like our own—here and then gone. They break in like bright rays on a steady horizon. Newborns spark a twinkle in a Dad’s eye and spread a warm glow across Mom’s face. Then, before we know it, they’ve launched out on their own...into the blue.
We miss the sun’s rising because we’re too tired, too busy, and too preoccupied. We miss our children’s growing up for the same reasons.
While it’s unfortunate to miss a morning sunrise, it’s a tragedy to miss our children’s childhood. The sun will rise again tomorrow, but their childhood is once.
Today, notice your children. Hold them. Talk to them. Read them a story, or even better, tell them one. Instead of watching T.V., throw the ball. Turn off the phone and tune into their day. Tell them how wonderful they are.
Stop! Look into their eyes. Read their posture. Search their hearts. Sit at their bedside and watch them sleep, listen to them breathe, pray over them. Cherish them.
Many of life’s most beautiful and most precious things pass silently by us unless we resolve not to miss them. No matter their age or distance pause today and enjoy your children. Go ahead. Do what’s brewing in your heart. It’s still early.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
It's Preacher Feature Time!
Some weeks back I begged my preaching minister, Chuck Monan, to submit a fine message he had delivered on the subject of unity as an article for New Wineskins - and the guy consented! On top of that, managing editor Greg Taylor accepted it, and it went live Monday. You can read it (or listen to it) and see if my risk of sycophanting up to the boss was worth the ribbing I'll get in the church office.
(Though, as I told Chuck when I accepted the communications job there last fall, he's not technically the Boss. That'd be Springsteen.)
Evidently spurred on by my dauntless courage in the face of merciless taunting, Greg Taylor lost no time asking his preaching minister Wade Hodges to contribute an article on the subject of unity and the table, which should appear in a couple of weeks.
And if Greg gets any teasing as a result, I think you'll find the article will be well worth it to him.
(Though, as I told Chuck when I accepted the communications job there last fall, he's not technically the Boss. That'd be Springsteen.)
Evidently spurred on by my dauntless courage in the face of merciless taunting, Greg Taylor lost no time asking his preaching minister Wade Hodges to contribute an article on the subject of unity and the table, which should appear in a couple of weeks.
And if Greg gets any teasing as a result, I think you'll find the article will be well worth it to him.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Bono preaches at National Prayer Breakfast
President George W. Bush asked Bono to speak at the National Prayer Breakfast today. See and hear it here.
Life on the Farm:Spiritual Insights from Rural Living
Goatee: Untangling and Untying from Sin
I was apprehensive when my ‘friend’ offered us a goat, but Benjamin’s face grew a grin. Ten year old boys don’t understand what’s involved in caring for goats, and Dad’s can’t forget when they were ten. We took the goat.
He was medium size, a long beard, long brown and black hair, and a pair of well developed horns, but his temperament was calm and he ate everything. This eating thing was my personal ambition for our new “pet”. We have lots hillsides growing briers, vines, poison ivy and such that are too steep for a tractor or mower and too large for a weed eater, unless it is a four legged weed eater.
Josh named him, Goatee.
We don’t have goat-proof fencing and Goatee doesn’t realize that I only want him to eat in certain areas. So, Goatee wears a long leash. Each morning we locate him on those steep banks or in other areas where he’ll enjoy eating all day tethered to a tree, an old tire, a post or some item that he can’t drag away. He gulps the most amazing stuff: thorny briers, vines, leaves, berries, bark, pine needles, almost everything. He’s a real eating machine, which I like very much. And so, this is an almost perfect arrangement. Almost.
The problem is Goatee’s leash. It gets tangled. He goes round and round trees, brier, vines, gets hooked under rocks or stumps. When he’s stuck he starts bleating. When Benjamin sees Goatee is tangled he has to untangle him and re-tether him again. Without that leash on his neck he’d roam those steep banks freely. That would be perfect.
Yesterday, a lady called me in distress. Her electric bill was overdue and the electric company was threatening to cut off service. She’d called before on several occasions, always with a catastrophe. So, I listened to her story. Her daughter is in jail for drug use, she and her current husband are separated, but he is living with her because his black lung check was stopped due to “someone else’s mistake”, She doesn’t get along with her ex-husband either. She is on disability for her back. All her family is estranged from her and ….. You see the situation.
I know this lady. Her real problem is that she is tethered to Sin. Sin keeps her life in a tangle of troubles. So, I clearly told her, “You know. I’ll help on your electric bill. I don’t mind that, but (her name) you need God in your life, or things like this are going to continue to plague your life.”
She replied, “Oh. I’ve been saved. I go to Church-- when I go-- to the XYZ Church.”
I interrupted her, “I not saying you need to go to church. I’m saying you need God in your life.” She didn’t understand.
What she thinks she needs is someone-- like Goatee needs Benjamin -- to come along ever so often and straighten things out. It is flawed thinking. She doesn’t need someone to untangle her messes; she needs someone to remove her leash.
All of us need is our yoke removed. We need freedom from our addictions; freedom from guilt; freedom from the power of sin in our life; freedom from that which ‘so easily entangles’. (Hebrews 12:1f) People need to be set free.
Yes, we serve those around us. We feed, we clothe, we comfort, we pay their bills, we listen to their stories, we hold their hand, we do all of this and more. What ‘more’? We go beyond their felt needs and address their ultimate one: we boldly, lovingly, courageously tell people, “You have a leash. You need to take it off.”
Satan leashes and tethers people. Helping our neighbor’s hurts, without addressing the tether is dishonest, short sighted and cheap. Christians who only love the body are either ignorant or cowardly. Certainly, we feed mouths, like our Lord did, but we also, like our Lord, seek and save the lost. We untangle their messes, but we also take them to Jesus who said, “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has …has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners…to release the oppressed...” Luke 4:18-19
The Body of Christ has done a fair job of untangling messes, but too often, we’ve left the people tethered. Let’s resolve afresh to set the captives free, knowing that whatever we loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven.
I was apprehensive when my ‘friend’ offered us a goat, but Benjamin’s face grew a grin. Ten year old boys don’t understand what’s involved in caring for goats, and Dad’s can’t forget when they were ten. We took the goat.
He was medium size, a long beard, long brown and black hair, and a pair of well developed horns, but his temperament was calm and he ate everything. This eating thing was my personal ambition for our new “pet”. We have lots hillsides growing briers, vines, poison ivy and such that are too steep for a tractor or mower and too large for a weed eater, unless it is a four legged weed eater.
Josh named him, Goatee.
We don’t have goat-proof fencing and Goatee doesn’t realize that I only want him to eat in certain areas. So, Goatee wears a long leash. Each morning we locate him on those steep banks or in other areas where he’ll enjoy eating all day tethered to a tree, an old tire, a post or some item that he can’t drag away. He gulps the most amazing stuff: thorny briers, vines, leaves, berries, bark, pine needles, almost everything. He’s a real eating machine, which I like very much. And so, this is an almost perfect arrangement. Almost.
The problem is Goatee’s leash. It gets tangled. He goes round and round trees, brier, vines, gets hooked under rocks or stumps. When he’s stuck he starts bleating. When Benjamin sees Goatee is tangled he has to untangle him and re-tether him again. Without that leash on his neck he’d roam those steep banks freely. That would be perfect.
Yesterday, a lady called me in distress. Her electric bill was overdue and the electric company was threatening to cut off service. She’d called before on several occasions, always with a catastrophe. So, I listened to her story. Her daughter is in jail for drug use, she and her current husband are separated, but he is living with her because his black lung check was stopped due to “someone else’s mistake”, She doesn’t get along with her ex-husband either. She is on disability for her back. All her family is estranged from her and ….. You see the situation.
I know this lady. Her real problem is that she is tethered to Sin. Sin keeps her life in a tangle of troubles. So, I clearly told her, “You know. I’ll help on your electric bill. I don’t mind that, but (her name) you need God in your life, or things like this are going to continue to plague your life.”
She replied, “Oh. I’ve been saved. I go to Church-- when I go-- to the XYZ Church.”
I interrupted her, “I not saying you need to go to church. I’m saying you need God in your life.” She didn’t understand.
What she thinks she needs is someone-- like Goatee needs Benjamin -- to come along ever so often and straighten things out. It is flawed thinking. She doesn’t need someone to untangle her messes; she needs someone to remove her leash.
All of us need is our yoke removed. We need freedom from our addictions; freedom from guilt; freedom from the power of sin in our life; freedom from that which ‘so easily entangles’. (Hebrews 12:1f) People need to be set free.
Yes, we serve those around us. We feed, we clothe, we comfort, we pay their bills, we listen to their stories, we hold their hand, we do all of this and more. What ‘more’? We go beyond their felt needs and address their ultimate one: we boldly, lovingly, courageously tell people, “You have a leash. You need to take it off.”
Satan leashes and tethers people. Helping our neighbor’s hurts, without addressing the tether is dishonest, short sighted and cheap. Christians who only love the body are either ignorant or cowardly. Certainly, we feed mouths, like our Lord did, but we also, like our Lord, seek and save the lost. We untangle their messes, but we also take them to Jesus who said, “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has …has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners…to release the oppressed...” Luke 4:18-19
The Body of Christ has done a fair job of untangling messes, but too often, we’ve left the people tethered. Let’s resolve afresh to set the captives free, knowing that whatever we loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Unity (part 5)
Is diversity a necessary part of the kingdom come on earth? Is the longing I have to worship and be in community and serve with people different from me as well as similar to me part of the divine nature within me?
I want to live in a community of faith in Christ that includes both pacifists and military heroes. I enjoy seeing a cowboy elder hugging a hip-hop baggy pants wearing teenager. Give me the young reaching up to take a stick of gum from an older lady of the church over the rigorously segregated by age "assemblies" many churches have.
Diversity comes not only in a racial sense. Diversity in our churches may mean age, social, economic, denominational, vocational, beliefs, pratices.
No discussion of unity touches reality without dealing with how ready we are to have diversity.
We cannot quote one of the best Restoration pleas quite enough: in matters of faith we have unity, in matters of opinion we have diversity, and in all things charity. What we ought to be vigilant about, however, is to not allow this plea to go undiscussed, as if it's self-evident and a mantra that settles all disputes. It doesn't.
We still must understand what constitutes a faith matter, an opinion matter. For that we do well to understand what was important to Jesus, what was a faith matter to God throughout the witness of Scripture. When the Lord addresses Israel directly or through prophets, here is an example of what He says through the prophet Micah (6:8):
In order to know what is opinion and what is a matter of faith, we must understand what the heart of God says, what Jesus said when he was on earth, and determine from those words, from those actions, what is truly a matter of faith. We tend to gravitate toward this being a list of what we believe, and certainly we have every reason to have as matters of faith a set of beliefs about God, the creator who sent Jesus who was not created into the world, who lived a while among us, taught, loved and healed and was betrayed and given by his own people to be crucified yet he rose on the third day and lives now through us and in us by his Holy Spirit and we wait expectantly for the day of his appearing again.
Yet even to believe all the right things is not the heart of what Jesus seems to be saying to us when he says all the Law and the Prophets hang on the practice of loving God with every stem-cell of our being, and to love our neighbors as if we were loving ourselves. The way we treat our neighbors is a matter of faith. It's time we start taking what Jesus said the Law and the Prophets hang on literally. When will we truly start acting like we say we believe?
This applies to every area of endeavor, be it within churches as we discuss our own practices, in our outreach, in our families, in our neighborhoods, friendships, and extended family relationships, and yes even how we treat the stranger.
Christ still longs for us to be one, to be gathered and unified under his wings. Christ says, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!"
I want to live in a community of faith in Christ that includes both pacifists and military heroes. I enjoy seeing a cowboy elder hugging a hip-hop baggy pants wearing teenager. Give me the young reaching up to take a stick of gum from an older lady of the church over the rigorously segregated by age "assemblies" many churches have.
Diversity comes not only in a racial sense. Diversity in our churches may mean age, social, economic, denominational, vocational, beliefs, pratices.
No discussion of unity touches reality without dealing with how ready we are to have diversity.
We cannot quote one of the best Restoration pleas quite enough: in matters of faith we have unity, in matters of opinion we have diversity, and in all things charity. What we ought to be vigilant about, however, is to not allow this plea to go undiscussed, as if it's self-evident and a mantra that settles all disputes. It doesn't.
We still must understand what constitutes a faith matter, an opinion matter. For that we do well to understand what was important to Jesus, what was a faith matter to God throughout the witness of Scripture. When the Lord addresses Israel directly or through prophets, here is an example of what He says through the prophet Micah (6:8):
He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.And when Jesus is asked what the greatest commandment is, he sets the course of history on its ear when he says, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments" (Matthew 22:37-40).
In order to know what is opinion and what is a matter of faith, we must understand what the heart of God says, what Jesus said when he was on earth, and determine from those words, from those actions, what is truly a matter of faith. We tend to gravitate toward this being a list of what we believe, and certainly we have every reason to have as matters of faith a set of beliefs about God, the creator who sent Jesus who was not created into the world, who lived a while among us, taught, loved and healed and was betrayed and given by his own people to be crucified yet he rose on the third day and lives now through us and in us by his Holy Spirit and we wait expectantly for the day of his appearing again.
Yet even to believe all the right things is not the heart of what Jesus seems to be saying to us when he says all the Law and the Prophets hang on the practice of loving God with every stem-cell of our being, and to love our neighbors as if we were loving ourselves. The way we treat our neighbors is a matter of faith. It's time we start taking what Jesus said the Law and the Prophets hang on literally. When will we truly start acting like we say we believe?
This applies to every area of endeavor, be it within churches as we discuss our own practices, in our outreach, in our families, in our neighborhoods, friendships, and extended family relationships, and yes even how we treat the stranger.
Christ still longs for us to be one, to be gathered and unified under his wings. Christ says, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!"
Saturday, January 28, 2006
The Hope of Glory
Well, I might as well get into it. I got started thinking about it in my last post at my blog. I wondered how seriously we take the idea that God is in us.
Because it's obvious to me that His Spirit is intimately involved in preservation of unity.
When Paul wrote to Colossae, Christ was in the saints - though it was a mystery.
His Spirit was in the prophets before He was born among men, when they sought the details of that incarnation to serve those who would follow them.
His Spirit was in David, who begged that the Spirit not be taken away from him when he sinned against God.
It was His prayer to be in us.
If His Spirit isn't in us, we aren't His.
His Spirit is how He seals us as His own, and guarantees what He has promised later.
His Spirit is how He strengthens us from within.
His Spirit is how God pours out His love into our hearts.
Our bodies are His temple.
So it's a question more important than whether the Spirit works apart from the Word or how He works or whether He still works today. Because if He dwells in followers of the Word throughout Christians' lives, it's inconceivable that He could be a freeloading parasite, sponging off of the prophets of His book. It's a question more important than how can we know He is in us, because He said He would be and when God says He'll do something, it's as good as done. It's more important than any question raised by the advertisers of GatorAde because it has to do with the water of life, the Spirit of God, the hope of glory:
Is He in you?
Because it's obvious to me that His Spirit is intimately involved in preservation of unity.
When Paul wrote to Colossae, Christ was in the saints - though it was a mystery.
His Spirit was in the prophets before He was born among men, when they sought the details of that incarnation to serve those who would follow them.
His Spirit was in David, who begged that the Spirit not be taken away from him when he sinned against God.
It was His prayer to be in us.
If His Spirit isn't in us, we aren't His.
His Spirit is how He seals us as His own, and guarantees what He has promised later.
His Spirit is how He strengthens us from within.
His Spirit is how God pours out His love into our hearts.
Our bodies are His temple.
So it's a question more important than whether the Spirit works apart from the Word or how He works or whether He still works today. Because if He dwells in followers of the Word throughout Christians' lives, it's inconceivable that He could be a freeloading parasite, sponging off of the prophets of His book. It's a question more important than how can we know He is in us, because He said He would be and when God says He'll do something, it's as good as done. It's more important than any question raised by the advertisers of GatorAde because it has to do with the water of life, the Spirit of God, the hope of glory:
Is He in you?
Friday, January 27, 2006
Beyond the Rituals:Letting God Reign in Our Lives
...true stories intended to touch your heart and change your life...
The Testing of Our Faith
…for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith…may be proved genuine and may result in prise, glory and honor… 1 Peter 1:6-7
Jackson Arap Rono, our first convert among the Kalenjin, has tasted the cup of testing many times. One of the most memorable came on a Sunday morning in 1987.
African praise rose from the ruins of what was once the home of an English Lord named Wellwood. The mansion must have been impressive in its prime, but time and weather had taken their toll and the large ballroom with its parquet floors laid in herring bone style were weathered and drab. On the lawn, beneath towering eucalyptus trees, orchids clustered too tightly and roses, gone wild, choked the front entrance with branches.
As worship neared its conclusion, this tranquil country scene erupted. The local chief and four police officers in a Land Rover roared their way onto the lawn. They demanded to see Jackson. He went out to meet them. They delivered a clear message, "Stop these services immediately, or else you and all your followers will be put in jail. This Church has been declared illegal!" That's it. No explanation. No options. Just the bitter cup.
Jackson stepped back inside and quelled everyone's curiosity by passing on the message. They quickly dismissed with a prayer and everyone hurried home. Jackson went home too, puzzled, dumbfounded, debating over what he should do. Obeying the police meant forsaking God's will. Obeying God meant imprisonment. At that moment Jackson had two difficult options, or, from another perspective, one whale of an opportunity.
For times of such trials and testings God has given us cheerleaders. Abraham, Moses, Deborah, Mary and Joseph, and others surround us and shout, "Do not be afraid! Believe!" They encourage and assure that just beyond our sight, God is waiting in hopes that we will clear the way for Him to act, overtly, in our life. Obedience, faith, risking it for the sake of what is right in God's eyes, puts nails in the coffin of a sermonized God and rolls the stone from the tomb of ritualized religion.
Perseverance in trial. Trust in Truth. Obedience at any/all cost. These are multiples more than mere acquiescence to religious dogma and constitute what it means to live by faith. Only, those who swallow hard and proceed as God prescribes experience Him in this bold, tangible and living way.
Jackson, being a man of faith, didn't debate long. By the time the sun had slipped beyond the African horizon, he had visited every member of the congregation and informed them that he planned to meet next Sunday to worship God, and that he hoped they would join him. Taking the cup of testing into his hands, he drank deeply.
Wellwood -- a serene picture. Breezy and cool. Romantic. Comfortable. Proud. Stable. Established. Historic. To this list a new descriptive was to be added the following gloriously beautiful Sunday morning -- Holy.
The day began apprehensively, shrouded in mist, hidden beyond the clouds. The members arrived in like manner -- quietly, singly, circling cautiously before entry. Then, gaining confidence, they increased until finally a record attendance filled the building! Jackson was there. His family was there. All the members were there. Villagers' children were there. Even one of the well-known drunkards was there. But the chief never came. The police never arrived. It was Sunday, but no one went to jail, because God was there -- Holy.
It seems that God doesn’t prefer to provide easy ways out. Instead, He delights in allowing withered women to bear babies, tumble weeds to sprout rams, desert wildernesses to house angels, and old mansions to produce faith -- Holy.
PS. The Church at Wellwood continues to worship every Sunday and now has its own building. The Chief still hasn't visited.
The Testing of Our Faith
…for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith…may be proved genuine and may result in prise, glory and honor… 1 Peter 1:6-7
Jackson Arap Rono, our first convert among the Kalenjin, has tasted the cup of testing many times. One of the most memorable came on a Sunday morning in 1987.
African praise rose from the ruins of what was once the home of an English Lord named Wellwood. The mansion must have been impressive in its prime, but time and weather had taken their toll and the large ballroom with its parquet floors laid in herring bone style were weathered and drab. On the lawn, beneath towering eucalyptus trees, orchids clustered too tightly and roses, gone wild, choked the front entrance with branches.
As worship neared its conclusion, this tranquil country scene erupted. The local chief and four police officers in a Land Rover roared their way onto the lawn. They demanded to see Jackson. He went out to meet them. They delivered a clear message, "Stop these services immediately, or else you and all your followers will be put in jail. This Church has been declared illegal!" That's it. No explanation. No options. Just the bitter cup.
Jackson stepped back inside and quelled everyone's curiosity by passing on the message. They quickly dismissed with a prayer and everyone hurried home. Jackson went home too, puzzled, dumbfounded, debating over what he should do. Obeying the police meant forsaking God's will. Obeying God meant imprisonment. At that moment Jackson had two difficult options, or, from another perspective, one whale of an opportunity.
For times of such trials and testings God has given us cheerleaders. Abraham, Moses, Deborah, Mary and Joseph, and others surround us and shout, "Do not be afraid! Believe!" They encourage and assure that just beyond our sight, God is waiting in hopes that we will clear the way for Him to act, overtly, in our life. Obedience, faith, risking it for the sake of what is right in God's eyes, puts nails in the coffin of a sermonized God and rolls the stone from the tomb of ritualized religion.
Perseverance in trial. Trust in Truth. Obedience at any/all cost. These are multiples more than mere acquiescence to religious dogma and constitute what it means to live by faith. Only, those who swallow hard and proceed as God prescribes experience Him in this bold, tangible and living way.
Jackson, being a man of faith, didn't debate long. By the time the sun had slipped beyond the African horizon, he had visited every member of the congregation and informed them that he planned to meet next Sunday to worship God, and that he hoped they would join him. Taking the cup of testing into his hands, he drank deeply.
Wellwood -- a serene picture. Breezy and cool. Romantic. Comfortable. Proud. Stable. Established. Historic. To this list a new descriptive was to be added the following gloriously beautiful Sunday morning -- Holy.
The day began apprehensively, shrouded in mist, hidden beyond the clouds. The members arrived in like manner -- quietly, singly, circling cautiously before entry. Then, gaining confidence, they increased until finally a record attendance filled the building! Jackson was there. His family was there. All the members were there. Villagers' children were there. Even one of the well-known drunkards was there. But the chief never came. The police never arrived. It was Sunday, but no one went to jail, because God was there -- Holy.
It seems that God doesn’t prefer to provide easy ways out. Instead, He delights in allowing withered women to bear babies, tumble weeds to sprout rams, desert wildernesses to house angels, and old mansions to produce faith -- Holy.
PS. The Church at Wellwood continues to worship every Sunday and now has its own building. The Chief still hasn't visited.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Editing Wineskins
One of the great joys of editing Wineskins is getting to research foundational work on a particular theme and also read contemporary "takes" on that theme by sometimes up to 50-60 different author submissions. From those submissions, with the help of our editing staff, I peel off layers of the theme and communicate with writers, informing them whether we can use or cannot use their article.
From there, we vigorously edit the articles. In the current stack I've asked for a completely different lead on one article. A review was completely reworked by the author and me. Yet another article was left alone--it was good, written by an English teacher. Even so, she and most writers are willing to allow shaping to their article. And we shape . . .
Many articles are turned upside down and inside out. I want to give you an example of what I enjoy most in working with writers. In many articles submitted, I can see a glimmer of a story that is trying to come out. One of the most common "mistakes" I see in submissions is that the real story doesn't get told. It's not that what is submitted is not a good sermon or good spiritual or biblical point, but submissions often miss the mark on how telling a personal story.
So here's what I'll often do. I ask a writer to tell me more about a particular sub-theme in the piece. That's when I see that glimmer of hope of a deeper story. In several cases, this has totally changed the piece, driven a writer deeper, to the heart of the matter, changed it into more of a story form, more biographical. It matches more of what Wineskins has come to be for readers: a forum for telling our stories of life on the journey with Christ. Stories that are messy and uncertain yet they are authentic, full of hope and restoration and revival and redemption and irony and vitality and when we least expect it God's mercy and grace and forgiveness and love and joy breaks out in the deep middle of our pain, heartache, suffering, anxiety, and grief.
That's why we have whole issues on themes such as "Desperate" and "A Great Grief." And this is at the heart of what drives us to the issue on Unity that we're working on now that pushes the edges, calls us to tell our stories with authenticity and honesty. After all, that's what makes a good sermon, book, article, movie: honest telling of what life is yet also what it ought to be.
From there, we vigorously edit the articles. In the current stack I've asked for a completely different lead on one article. A review was completely reworked by the author and me. Yet another article was left alone--it was good, written by an English teacher. Even so, she and most writers are willing to allow shaping to their article. And we shape . . .
Many articles are turned upside down and inside out. I want to give you an example of what I enjoy most in working with writers. In many articles submitted, I can see a glimmer of a story that is trying to come out. One of the most common "mistakes" I see in submissions is that the real story doesn't get told. It's not that what is submitted is not a good sermon or good spiritual or biblical point, but submissions often miss the mark on how telling a personal story.
So here's what I'll often do. I ask a writer to tell me more about a particular sub-theme in the piece. That's when I see that glimmer of hope of a deeper story. In several cases, this has totally changed the piece, driven a writer deeper, to the heart of the matter, changed it into more of a story form, more biographical. It matches more of what Wineskins has come to be for readers: a forum for telling our stories of life on the journey with Christ. Stories that are messy and uncertain yet they are authentic, full of hope and restoration and revival and redemption and irony and vitality and when we least expect it God's mercy and grace and forgiveness and love and joy breaks out in the deep middle of our pain, heartache, suffering, anxiety, and grief.
That's why we have whole issues on themes such as "Desperate" and "A Great Grief." And this is at the heart of what drives us to the issue on Unity that we're working on now that pushes the edges, calls us to tell our stories with authenticity and honesty. After all, that's what makes a good sermon, book, article, movie: honest telling of what life is yet also what it ought to be.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Unity (part 4)
This morning Sacred Space introduces the start of the Octave, the prayer for unity. This is from the site, a powerful call to pray for unity of all humanity.
This week sees the start of the Octave of prayer for church unity. It has taken us centuries of misunderstandings to reach the point where Christian churches can dare to do that most obvious thing: pray together.Jesus is truly for all. This is not a plea for univeralism. This is a plea and prayer for all people to arise and be drawn to the saving grace of the God who loves people of all nations. Do we dare pray this prayer for unity?
Images like those of John Paul II praying in Canterbury with its Archbishop, or gathering the faith-leaders of the world in Assisi, have taught us so much. When we come close to those of other traditions, and know something of their riches, we can be grateful for the extraordinary fullness of Catholic tradition, and at the same time marvel at the uprightness of Presbyterians, the Friends' passion for peace, the openness of Hindus, the devotion of Moslems.
This is the week when we ask our God to warm our hearts to take in all his children. If the chance arises, it is the week when we should pray with strangers, remembering St Peter's words (Acts 10:34): "The truth I have come to realise is that God does not have favourites, but that anyone of any nationality who does what is right and fears God is acceptable to him."
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
The Face of Unity (Pt 3 on Unity)
What if unity requires face to face contact?
Unity of any branch of humanity--religious, political, familial, otherwise--cannot be fully realized on earth. Fully knowing and being fully known, having no cross purposes with God, and being one with creation is a promise of the end times. Then we will fully know unity.
We can, however, taste unity in that tart green apple form on earth but not without meeting face to face. The dream of WIRED magazine seems to be that economic equity, political unity and equality can come from the internet and technology as the great equalizer. Meanwhile, one billion people today simply want clean water to drink--the technology they want is industrial, as in a drill for water wells.
The way some of us have perceived unity is very narrow, only in terms of church or in religious terms. This waters down and eventually wrecks the whole notion of unity for us, causing us to live a less than missional understanding of what it means to be unified with our creator, with Father, Son, Spirit, with humanity, with creation, with people unlike us. Therefore, we cannot and must not settle for some lofty and unattainable or untouchable, on the one hand, or cheesy and fluffy, on the other hand, version of unity.
Unity is multi-faceted, multi-faced, and we must come face to face with one another to achieve it in the now.
A story in Genesis about a face to face meeting illustrates the intensity of this kind of contact.
Jacob had been away from his brother Esau and his homeland for twenty years when God told him to return (Genesis 31:3). Jacob was terrified to meet his brother face to face. But he didn't have email, and even if he did, that wouldn't have (and still usually isn't) sufficient, adequate, preferred, or even appropriate for the kind of communication that needed to happen.
Jacob was rightly terrified, because he had bilked Esau out of his birthright and his blessing. Jacob acknowledged God had been with him in all his travels, even away from his homeland (with a world view of parochial gods, this was extraordinary). Still, Jacob hedged his bets and put his people in rows, beginning with the slaves, maids, their children, then Rachel and Joseph last.
Even ahead of those companies of his family he sent several messenger companies with gifts to give Esau, and he instructed them to say, "By the way, Jacob is behind us."
Meanwhile, Jacob wrestles with a man in the night--who seems very adversarial yet Jacob says he had met God face to face there. He even calls the place Peniel, meaning "the face of God."
Genesis 33 starts abruptly after that night wrestling and Jacob sees Esau coming with four hundred men. That's when he divided up his family into companies, a hedge against the possibility that Esau was coming to do them harm. Jacob went ahead. Can you see him limping from the man's strange form of blessing the night before--wrenching your hip.
So Jacob is leading the companies, bowing, taking a few steps, bowing again--seven times--dust no doubt on his face. Here we get an image that Jesus brings back in the Prodigal Son story: Esau runs to his brother, falls on him in Jacob's prostrate position, and kisses him.
And then Jacob and Esau wept together.
After some discussion about the gifts, why Jacob had sent them, whether Esau would accept them, Jacob had enough, Esau didn't need them, take them anyway, then Jacob drops the ultimate declaration that causes Esau to accept the gifts.
"No, please! said Jacob. "If I have found favor in your eyes, accept this gift from me. For to see your face is like seeing the face of God, now that youhave received me favorably . . . please accept, for God has been gracious to me, and I have all I need."
And because Jacob insisted with this plea, Esau accepted.
Still, they didn't live together. Jacob went near Shechem. Esau lived in Seir.
In preparation for see his brother, Jacob wrestled with God. We was afraid, but before he met his brother face to face, he met God face to face.
The divine reversal in this story is amazing. Esau reflects the image of God to Jacob.
Whose face do we show to our brothers and sisters? To those who come home after long periods away, what is the face we show them? Can they say, "to see you is to see the face of God"?
Unity requires face to face meeting, first with God, then with one another. But this doesn't always mean we will live together in some supposed blissful unity. Our hips will be broken, and awkward speech will pour from our lips, and life will mute our tongues, and we might choose to live in another land from our brothers.
Yet, to see face to face, even for a day--to see the face of God in our brother or sister--is part of what it means to reach out and touch authentic unity.
Unity of any branch of humanity--religious, political, familial, otherwise--cannot be fully realized on earth. Fully knowing and being fully known, having no cross purposes with God, and being one with creation is a promise of the end times. Then we will fully know unity.
We can, however, taste unity in that tart green apple form on earth but not without meeting face to face. The dream of WIRED magazine seems to be that economic equity, political unity and equality can come from the internet and technology as the great equalizer. Meanwhile, one billion people today simply want clean water to drink--the technology they want is industrial, as in a drill for water wells.
The way some of us have perceived unity is very narrow, only in terms of church or in religious terms. This waters down and eventually wrecks the whole notion of unity for us, causing us to live a less than missional understanding of what it means to be unified with our creator, with Father, Son, Spirit, with humanity, with creation, with people unlike us. Therefore, we cannot and must not settle for some lofty and unattainable or untouchable, on the one hand, or cheesy and fluffy, on the other hand, version of unity.
Unity is multi-faceted, multi-faced, and we must come face to face with one another to achieve it in the now.
A story in Genesis about a face to face meeting illustrates the intensity of this kind of contact.
Jacob had been away from his brother Esau and his homeland for twenty years when God told him to return (Genesis 31:3). Jacob was terrified to meet his brother face to face. But he didn't have email, and even if he did, that wouldn't have (and still usually isn't) sufficient, adequate, preferred, or even appropriate for the kind of communication that needed to happen.
Jacob was rightly terrified, because he had bilked Esau out of his birthright and his blessing. Jacob acknowledged God had been with him in all his travels, even away from his homeland (with a world view of parochial gods, this was extraordinary). Still, Jacob hedged his bets and put his people in rows, beginning with the slaves, maids, their children, then Rachel and Joseph last.
Even ahead of those companies of his family he sent several messenger companies with gifts to give Esau, and he instructed them to say, "By the way, Jacob is behind us."
Meanwhile, Jacob wrestles with a man in the night--who seems very adversarial yet Jacob says he had met God face to face there. He even calls the place Peniel, meaning "the face of God."
Genesis 33 starts abruptly after that night wrestling and Jacob sees Esau coming with four hundred men. That's when he divided up his family into companies, a hedge against the possibility that Esau was coming to do them harm. Jacob went ahead. Can you see him limping from the man's strange form of blessing the night before--wrenching your hip.
So Jacob is leading the companies, bowing, taking a few steps, bowing again--seven times--dust no doubt on his face. Here we get an image that Jesus brings back in the Prodigal Son story: Esau runs to his brother, falls on him in Jacob's prostrate position, and kisses him.
And then Jacob and Esau wept together.
After some discussion about the gifts, why Jacob had sent them, whether Esau would accept them, Jacob had enough, Esau didn't need them, take them anyway, then Jacob drops the ultimate declaration that causes Esau to accept the gifts.
"No, please! said Jacob. "If I have found favor in your eyes, accept this gift from me. For to see your face is like seeing the face of God, now that youhave received me favorably . . . please accept, for God has been gracious to me, and I have all I need."
And because Jacob insisted with this plea, Esau accepted.
Still, they didn't live together. Jacob went near Shechem. Esau lived in Seir.
In preparation for see his brother, Jacob wrestled with God. We was afraid, but before he met his brother face to face, he met God face to face.
The divine reversal in this story is amazing. Esau reflects the image of God to Jacob.
Whose face do we show to our brothers and sisters? To those who come home after long periods away, what is the face we show them? Can they say, "to see you is to see the face of God"?
Unity requires face to face meeting, first with God, then with one another. But this doesn't always mean we will live together in some supposed blissful unity. Our hips will be broken, and awkward speech will pour from our lips, and life will mute our tongues, and we might choose to live in another land from our brothers.
Yet, to see face to face, even for a day--to see the face of God in our brother or sister--is part of what it means to reach out and touch authentic unity.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Lessons from the Farm:Spiritual Insights from Rural Life.
Snow on the Mountain:Transforming Moments with The Transformer
My children have been watching, dreaming, wishing, even singing about snow for two months now. Finally, last night, it arrived, and this morning our mountain is carpeted in white.
One morning, about five years ago, I saw the most beautiful snow I have ever witnessed. It came as a total surprise. I suppose the weather experts had been predicting it, but I hadn’t been listening, and waking to the drama of that bright white blanket across our farm caught me unsuspecting. Literally, I gasped when I looked out the window.
It was deeper than the one of last night. Five to six inches layered the ground. Not all snow is the same. This was "fluffy" snow that stacked high but lightly upon the branches. There was no wind. Motionless. Silent. Magical.
The kids and I pulled plastic trash can lids, a toboggan and a disk-sleigh up the hill behind the house. The neighbor kids came too. That hill is short, but steep so what we loose in distance is more than made up for in speed. Yeah baby!
For half the morning we slid and tumbled, laughed and climbed up again and again. So fun.
Our runway began to wear thin so, I walked around the hill in search of a fresh spot. That’s when I happened on the most incredible sight in all my life. The sun lifting over the mountain across from me, the gently rocking wind, the temperature striking some precisely perfect point, and the snow balancing on the brink of transformation merged. For what could not have been more than a few seconds, millions upon millions of icy prisms lit in multi-colored unison. The entire mountain flashed and shimmered. Everything: the rocks, the trees, the rooftops, even the ground, twinkled!
I stopped and stared, gripped in awe.
Honestly, it was too amazing to be described. Even in my memory it is difficult to fully recapture that moment. However, I clearly recall the words which-- though coming from my mouth I cannot claim them as my own-- voluntarily rose as a whisper across my lips, “Ohh. God, you are so amazing.”
I worshipped on that mountain. I think it was to some tiny degree like what Moses experienced on Sinai or what Peter felt on the mount of transfiguration--an almost involuntary response to a sudden glimpse of the majesty of God.
All too quickly, however, the sun shifted its angle, the temperature passed its point of perfection, the beauty dimmed and I was returned to my mountain with kids squealing and sleds scooting. Today’s snow isn’t even in the same league as that one, but snow on the mountain has ever since jogged my memory and revived that special experience.
Scripture says that though our sins are as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow (Isaiah 1:18). I think the Scriptures must be referring (and if not, then at least for me personally it is the case) to snow more akin to that special moment on my mountain than to today’s thin blanket. For He does make my life (anyone’s life) glisten, shimmer, radiate, and worship a God who is so amazing.
From now on, maybe we should all be as anxious for snow as our kids. Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it SNOW!
My children have been watching, dreaming, wishing, even singing about snow for two months now. Finally, last night, it arrived, and this morning our mountain is carpeted in white.
One morning, about five years ago, I saw the most beautiful snow I have ever witnessed. It came as a total surprise. I suppose the weather experts had been predicting it, but I hadn’t been listening, and waking to the drama of that bright white blanket across our farm caught me unsuspecting. Literally, I gasped when I looked out the window.
It was deeper than the one of last night. Five to six inches layered the ground. Not all snow is the same. This was "fluffy" snow that stacked high but lightly upon the branches. There was no wind. Motionless. Silent. Magical.
The kids and I pulled plastic trash can lids, a toboggan and a disk-sleigh up the hill behind the house. The neighbor kids came too. That hill is short, but steep so what we loose in distance is more than made up for in speed. Yeah baby!
For half the morning we slid and tumbled, laughed and climbed up again and again. So fun.
Our runway began to wear thin so, I walked around the hill in search of a fresh spot. That’s when I happened on the most incredible sight in all my life. The sun lifting over the mountain across from me, the gently rocking wind, the temperature striking some precisely perfect point, and the snow balancing on the brink of transformation merged. For what could not have been more than a few seconds, millions upon millions of icy prisms lit in multi-colored unison. The entire mountain flashed and shimmered. Everything: the rocks, the trees, the rooftops, even the ground, twinkled!
I stopped and stared, gripped in awe.
Honestly, it was too amazing to be described. Even in my memory it is difficult to fully recapture that moment. However, I clearly recall the words which-- though coming from my mouth I cannot claim them as my own-- voluntarily rose as a whisper across my lips, “Ohh. God, you are so amazing.”
I worshipped on that mountain. I think it was to some tiny degree like what Moses experienced on Sinai or what Peter felt on the mount of transfiguration--an almost involuntary response to a sudden glimpse of the majesty of God.
All too quickly, however, the sun shifted its angle, the temperature passed its point of perfection, the beauty dimmed and I was returned to my mountain with kids squealing and sleds scooting. Today’s snow isn’t even in the same league as that one, but snow on the mountain has ever since jogged my memory and revived that special experience.
Scripture says that though our sins are as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow (Isaiah 1:18). I think the Scriptures must be referring (and if not, then at least for me personally it is the case) to snow more akin to that special moment on my mountain than to today’s thin blanket. For He does make my life (anyone’s life) glisten, shimmer, radiate, and worship a God who is so amazing.
From now on, maybe we should all be as anxious for snow as our kids. Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it SNOW!
Friday, January 13, 2006
End of the Spear review needed
I need reviews of two movies: Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and End of the Spear. Narnia review can be sent anytime to Greg Taylor.
End of the Spear comes out January 20. I'll need a review for Wineskins January 21 asap.
If you are planning to go on opening night and can write a review quickly, please contact me and send in a review to Greg Taylor.
End of the Spear comes out January 20. I'll need a review for Wineskins January 21 asap. If you are planning to go on opening night and can write a review quickly, please contact me and send in a review to Greg Taylor.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
What do you want to review?
Thought I'd mention a few of the books on my desk, some as invitation for you to receive to review for Wineskins and others as recommendations or just to let you know what passes for reading material around here.
Books for review you may be interested in reviewing
Marva Dawn, Talking the walk
Donald Miller, Through painted deserts
David E. Fitch, The great giveaway: Reclaiming the Mission of the Church
Chris Tiegreen, Why a suffering world makes sense
Chuck Smith Jr., Matt Whitlock, Frequently avoided questions
Siang-Yang Tan, Full service: moving from self-serve Christianity to total servanthood
Richard L. Reising, Church marketing 101: preparing your church for greater growth
Steven James, Story: recapture the mystery
Michael Dauphinais, Matthew Levering, Holy people, holy land: a theological introduction to the Bible
If you want any of the above books, send a send addressed and stamped (about $2) envelope to Greg Taylor 12000 E. 31st St. Tulsa, OK 74146 and I'll do my best to get you the book you request, and I do have many other review copies--so if you have a particular book you're interested, ask.
Books for review you may be interested in reviewing
Marva Dawn, Talking the walk
Donald Miller, Through painted deserts
David E. Fitch, The great giveaway: Reclaiming the Mission of the Church
Chris Tiegreen, Why a suffering world makes sense
Chuck Smith Jr., Matt Whitlock, Frequently avoided questions
Siang-Yang Tan, Full service: moving from self-serve Christianity to total servanthood
Richard L. Reising, Church marketing 101: preparing your church for greater growth
Steven James, Story: recapture the mystery
Michael Dauphinais, Matthew Levering, Holy people, holy land: a theological introduction to the Bible
If you want any of the above books, send a send addressed and stamped (about $2) envelope to Greg Taylor 12000 E. 31st St. Tulsa, OK 74146 and I'll do my best to get you the book you request, and I do have many other review copies--so if you have a particular book you're interested, ask.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Unity (part 2)
Here's an important quote by Gene Shelburne, whose book we're planning to excerpt for our newest issue on Unity to launch Friday, January 13:
We're working right now on dozens of articles and anticipate that these will spark great discussion and thought in our readership. So we're moving forward with discovering and publishing articles by those with imaginations for, and who are practicing in, a world that is truly unified not in some ethereal way alone but in earthly, real, and truly lived out in families, between races, among Christians with different doctrines and practices, in neighborhoods, and as much in eye to eye contact as in nation to nation relations.
To the generations who have come after those faithful men (Restoration Movement of 200 years ago), their dream seems too small. Because their dream came true, today we are able to dream nobler dreams. Now, instead of trying to unite the squabbling heirs of a single sect of Christianity, we can dare to re-dream the dream of our father's grandfathers. We envision a day when all those who honor Christ--"all the Christians in every sect"--will unite to serve him and to praise him, and we strive with all that is within us to realize this noble dream.--Gene Shelburne in The Quest for Unity: An Appeal for oneness among all believersI want to say here that as we work on this issue, we are helping stretch the world view of a movement of people who are having unity meetings this year--some of which I'm a part--that will celebrate and encourage unity within a fellowship of Churches of Christ and Christian Churches, but Wineskins wants to take the conversation further, and Gene Shelburne is one of those who has stepped out into that wider conversation on unity of all believers in Christ, not only those who have similar Christian practices.
We're working right now on dozens of articles and anticipate that these will spark great discussion and thought in our readership. So we're moving forward with discovering and publishing articles by those with imaginations for, and who are practicing in, a world that is truly unified not in some ethereal way alone but in earthly, real, and truly lived out in families, between races, among Christians with different doctrines and practices, in neighborhoods, and as much in eye to eye contact as in nation to nation relations.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Does visual media erode our faith?
I think it's vitally important what our home page is, because it sets the tone for our interaction on the web. Sure, I can choose to ignore my home page and often I skip right over Sacred Space on my way to news or other information. We're working toward making Wineskinsa great option for your home page, too.
MSN.com or other news and pop culture sites I've tried as home pages have not set the tone I want for my day. Consider this from Operation World Introduction:
Does visual media erode our faith in the sovereignty of God, of the goodness of what happens in the world? Or does it more appropriately make us aware and able to act on the injustices in the world?
MSN.com or other news and pop culture sites I've tried as home pages have not set the tone I want for my day. Consider this from Operation World Introduction:
The visual media have eroded the faith of believers in God's sovereignty in the world. Television cameramen . . . swoop on the wars, famines, disasters and tragedies of this world. The beautiful, wholesome and good is less photogenic, so what God does and what God's servants are achieving are rarely noticed. Like Elisha's servant (2 Kings 6) we need our eyes opened to see reality.I removed a editorial simile from the Operation World quote because it unfairly caricatures media, and if you want to read the full quote, go to this page. While caveats and disclaimers ought to accompany such critique of media, there is a lot of truth to this, and it's a point about which few of us are aware.
Does visual media erode our faith in the sovereignty of God, of the goodness of what happens in the world? Or does it more appropriately make us aware and able to act on the injustices in the world?
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Unity (part 1)
January 2006 we begin a double issue on the theme of unity. We're going to cover this in ways you perhaps have never experienced. Some of the articles will rock all of our worlds.
One hundred years ago, the church that this magazine owes much of its heritage--churches of Christ--split with the Christian Churches and eventually and today there are three churches with Stone-Campbell or Restoration heritage: Independent Christian Churches, Disciples of Christ, and Church of Christ.
Several meetings are planned this year to reunite brothers in the various Stone-Campbell branches of the fellowship. The intent of most of these gatherings is not to try and melt all the churches back into one but to acknowledge that we are brothers and sisters in Christ and both lament our lack of unity and celebrate our common desire to work alongside one another for the "good of the world, to the glory of God," to quote the theme for the Tulsa Soul Winning Workshop, one of these meetings.
Wineskins wants to help prepare minds and hearts for these meetings. Further, we want to challenge the notion that we are only to be unified with people like us in the Restoration Movement. The idea that we are unified because of outward signs of our religious practice is problematic at best and awfully flawed and sinful at worst.
So we will explore the idea of being unified with people who are different from us but united under one God and one journey toward Jesus Christ.
One hundred years ago, the church that this magazine owes much of its heritage--churches of Christ--split with the Christian Churches and eventually and today there are three churches with Stone-Campbell or Restoration heritage: Independent Christian Churches, Disciples of Christ, and Church of Christ.
Several meetings are planned this year to reunite brothers in the various Stone-Campbell branches of the fellowship. The intent of most of these gatherings is not to try and melt all the churches back into one but to acknowledge that we are brothers and sisters in Christ and both lament our lack of unity and celebrate our common desire to work alongside one another for the "good of the world, to the glory of God," to quote the theme for the Tulsa Soul Winning Workshop, one of these meetings.
Wineskins wants to help prepare minds and hearts for these meetings. Further, we want to challenge the notion that we are only to be unified with people like us in the Restoration Movement. The idea that we are unified because of outward signs of our religious practice is problematic at best and awfully flawed and sinful at worst.
So we will explore the idea of being unified with people who are different from us but united under one God and one journey toward Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Photojournalist Chris Anderson
Chris Anderson is a world class photojournalist, the best field photographer I've seen. He's been to Iraq, Afghanistan, Bolivia, Israel's Gaza Strip, Gulf Coast in the aftermath of Katrina, and dozens of other hot spots in the world. My dream would be to tour with him in Uganda, Rwanda, Sudan.
Wineskins was blessed to use some of his photos on two separate occasions, the first time for the cover of our Sep/Oct 03 issue (this link may not work until I repair it or see if Keith Brenton, our great web servant, can repair it).
Here is an incredible photo essay of his reporting and photography in Bolivia and Venezuela.
Chris Anderson Portfolio.
Wineskins was blessed to use some of his photos on two separate occasions, the first time for the cover of our Sep/Oct 03 issue (this link may not work until I repair it or see if Keith Brenton, our great web servant, can repair it).
Here is an incredible photo essay of his reporting and photography in Bolivia and Venezuela.
Chris Anderson Portfolio.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Venite Adoramus
He is a tiny newborn in a trough of animal food in a drafty barn. He would be shivering and His very life in danger, were He not wrapped in strips of cloth. He has done nothing yet; said nothing yet; can do nothing yet. His survival depends completely on His mother and her husband. Within days or weeks, armies will be searching for Him to murder Him because of the time He was born and the star He was born beneath. And His little family will run for their lives.
They are nothing if not virtuous. But beyond that, they are nothing as the world counts somethings. Their royal heritage no longer counts for anything in the current regime. They live in a nowhere country. They have nothing but Him, a precious baby, and a mount for His mother to ride.
But for a moment or two, there is a timeless intrusion of eternity into this smelly stable - an indescribable glory that a few simple shepherds have abandoned their flocks to the night to witness; that seers have traveled hundreds of miles to see; that angels in the very heavens are distantly singing about.
For all have come to worship, and they have brought with them - through history or anticipation - a hopeful host of mankind who can see their salvation in His tiny face.
They are nothing if not virtuous. But beyond that, they are nothing as the world counts somethings. Their royal heritage no longer counts for anything in the current regime. They live in a nowhere country. They have nothing but Him, a precious baby, and a mount for His mother to ride.
But for a moment or two, there is a timeless intrusion of eternity into this smelly stable - an indescribable glory that a few simple shepherds have abandoned their flocks to the night to witness; that seers have traveled hundreds of miles to see; that angels in the very heavens are distantly singing about.
For all have come to worship, and they have brought with them - through history or anticipation - a hopeful host of mankind who can see their salvation in His tiny face.
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