There was a time when batting averages meant more to me than Batman.
In my pre-teen years, I was a baseball fan. Specifically the St. Louis Cardinals, largely because my Mom's side of the family lived in St. Louis and I had been to their games. And at the very top of the list of favorite baseball players was Ozzie Smith. In the 80's and early 90's he dominated the Golden Glove competitions. He was an acrobat on the field, making amazing catches and plays on a daily basis. And at every game, he would come onto the field for introductions by doing a flip. I tried to emulate this in my baseball days by doing a handspring off the field if we won.
One day, we were in St. Louis visiting with family and we went to his restaurant- Ozzies's. While we were ordering, I happened to look up, and through the back door walked my idol- Ozzie Smith himself. Clearly, he didn't want a lot of attention, and it looked like he was there on business, but one of my family members managed to get me an audience with him. So, there I stood, about to meet the epitome of baseball in my life- and I was terrified. Excited, overwhelmed, but most definitely terrified. I didn't want to offend him, or put him out, I didn't want to do anything to cause him to be angry at me. I had always heard he was a nice guy, but he was so famous, so important, what right had I to ask for his attention. But I did, and managed an autograph as well, but not before being so in shock that I forgot my name. I still have that autograph, and a picture with my childhood hero, (and a pilfered menu from the restaurant) framed in my home.
I would imagine the feeling I had that day was not unlike the feeling the Hebrews had at Mt. Sinai, only they were justified in fearing the wrath of God being unleashed. They stood at the feet of a mountain that was, for the moment, home to their God. They had seen his exploits, his displays of power, and they had seen the results: lots of dead people. So they feared this powerful God. Hebrews 12:18-21 says it this way:
" You have not come to a mountain that can be touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded: “If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned to death.” The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, “I am trembling with fear.”
We call this the Old Testament God. He is full of wrath and fire and judgment and war. He scares us. So we like to think nothing of Him. He is a historical God, and God has changed. He is now much more approachable, much nicer. Hebrews 12: 22-24 even gives that impression on first glance:
But you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the Judge of all, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.
Our God is happy now. He is gentle and sweet, he does not hold us under the threat of death. Does He?
It seems we believe that God changed. That He softened as He grew older. But the Bible says God doesn't change, that He is the "same yesterday, today and forever." (Hebrews 13:8) And then we read the rest of that passage in Hebrews 12:25-29, and we see that in fact, God has not changed:
See to it that you do not refuse him who speaks. If they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, how much less will we, if we turn away from him who warns us from heaven? At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” The words “once more” indicate the removing of what can be shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain.
Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our “God is a consuming fire.”
Like the awe and reverence I felt that day with Ozzie Smith are we to worship God. Still not flippantly, still not with empty promises, but now, we are friends- respectful friends, because we are definitely the lesser in the friendship. So if God didn't change, and He is still that wrathful, passionate, jealous God, why are we able to approach Him without that same fear of death?
Because God changed the people He has chosen.
I'm not saying He changed the chosen from the Jews to the Christians- He changed those who chose Him. We are different from the Hebrews at Sinai, from Uzza when he touched the Ark of the Covenant improperly, different even from David who made choices that lead to tragedies and plagues. They all still sought God with their own heart, some better than others. But we who choose God do not seek Him with our own heart.
We seek Him with a new heart.
Jeremiah 24:7 has God saying "I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the LORD. They will be my people, and I will be their God, for they will return to me with all their heart. " The Old Testament people had hearts incapable of knowing God intimately, there was a separation that could not be bridged, no matter how many sacrifices and offerings they made. There was a disconnect from God. He was perfect, and they were not, so they could not be near to Him. This prophecy of Jeremiah was fulfilled through Jesus, when we who came to Jesus were given a new heart- that we may know God. While we are not yet perfect, God has made the way we can worship Him perfect. WE still mess it up, but the opportunity to worship God in perfect union with Him is there. We can approach God, because He has made it possible.
So today, the God we worship is still the God of the Old Testament. He is still jealous, still wrathful, still powerful in battle- still a warrior (Exodus 15:3). But He is also compassionate, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love (Exodus 34:6), just like He always has been. I wish we approached Him in worship, prayer and everyday life with a bit of a mix: part reverence, awe and fear, and part as friends. He is our friend who loves us and forgives us, but He is also our friend who can wipe us from existence and holds our eternity in His grasp.
Ozzie Smith was a nice guy, he was kind and patient with me. But his presence still made me tremble with a bit of fear. Because he mattered so much to me as a pre-teen I wanted- no, I needed- to be right in his presence. I wanted to be worthy of meeting him and getting his autograph, and I wanted it so bad that I was in awe of him.
Does God matter that much to us, that we want so badly to be worthy of His gift that we quake before Him?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
God is and Elitist...and Thats OK
I remember the first time I was faced with the concept that I really wish I could redesign God.
I was a college freshman and my roommate and his girlfriend were in a heated debate over whether or not Jesus was the only way to heaven. He was a nominal Catholic (meaning he went to church, but didn't pay attention) and she was a Baptist. He felt very strongly that people devoted to their faith, any faith, surely wouldn't be punished by God. Eventually, they looked at me to settle the debate. I responded with what I very firmly knew, "Jesus is THE Way, THE Truth, and THE Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him." Confident that I had sufficiently settled the debate, I went back to trying to avoid this sort of conversation. But then he asked, "OK, but what about those people who have never heard of Jesus specifically? What if they worship a concept of God, without knowing the specifics? Would they still go to Hell for not accepting Jesus?"
The question really struck me. On one hand, I firmly believed what Jesus said about being the only way to the Father. On the other, it seemed really harsh of God to send these folks innocently ignorant of Him to Hell. I honestly didn't ( and really, still don't) know what to say to that, but I said that I believe God provides a way for them anyway.
And so, I made my first post-modern statement on God, long before I knew what post-modern was.
I have come to see that it is common and accepted for us to state what we think God would do, based only on what we want Him to do. There are the Pat Robertsons of the world who want God to judge harshly the sinners, so Hurricane Katrina is a judgment on 'sinful New Orleans.' There are a lot of folks who want God to be a teddy bear of love an acceptance for all, so they create doctrines that say nothing is sin. There are those who want God to be benevolent and a pacifist, so they protest wars and seek more government aid for the poor- while condemning those who don't agree with their methods.
On a personal level, I can think of times in the not to distant present when I, as a pastor, have been asked a question, and knowing that my response might alienate the questioner, tried to tailor my response to be what they want to hear- or at least a more easily digested response. I think my wanting to be liked and to pastor a church that is liked has made me sometimes wishy-washy with things of a concrete nature. Because of that, I can relate to people who try to make God in their own image, and it makes me a little angry at myself.
And it doesn't just happen with ideologue, politicians, activists and pastors, we all do it. We adopt an opinion and try to make sure God ( and everyone else) agrees with us.
But God is an elitist.
God is an Elitist, and That's OK
I really despise elitism amongst people. Elitism, as we know it, is just that at some point, someone decided one thing was more high brow than an another. Opera (soap operas sung in Latin) are determined to be more elite than Country Music (soap operas sung in Texan). Certain schools are more elite than others- sometimes justifiably so, sometimes because Old Money went to that one and not the other. Elitism, in my opinion is about believing that I am better than you, and that you are unable to comprehend just why, because you are too simple.
By that definition, God is an elitist.
God is better than us. He's perfect, so He's got that squared away. And truthfully, we really are too simple to understand why His ways are better than ours. (Right here is where He would play the "I'm Perfect!" card, if His ways were about the playing of such cards.) Inherent in that, is that we can't make sense of our God's choices, so we are lesser beings that He.
And that's OK.
The problem arises when we live in a world that demands to know how and why things work, but at the same time demands that there be nothing definitive about those things. "It may work for you, but it doesn't work for me." This may be a true statement for a workout regimen, but it cannot be true for the foundational aspects of God.
Some Things Are Not Negotiable
There are aspects of the Christian faith that are negotiable. We have freedom, given by Christ on the Cross to not be bound to extreme legalism. So, there is no absolute decree that I can't watch an R rated movie or have a beer. But for some people, they feel a strong desire to avoid those things, and they may attribute it to the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I view this type of thing as a negotiable- if the Bible doesn't explicitly say 'Yea' or 'Nay,' then the answer is to be found in personal interaction with God.
Non-negotiables are things explicitly stated about God. For instance, and back to where this started: There is one God, and one way to Him. Is it harsh? Is it elitist? Is is exclusionary? Absolutely. But keep in mind that God has always been this way. In the Old Testament, it was routine that an ENTIRE city be destroyed along with ALL inhabitants (kids and pets, too) so that the Israelites not be tempted with other gods. God is an elitist because He believes Himself better than anything else. In fact, He believes He is the ONLY one. Now, if I believe everything else God says about Himself (Creator, Perfect, Savior, Provider, Protector, Comforter, etc), how can I deny that when He says He is the Only God, He's telling the truth?
It is a pick and choose, a cafeteria plan God, we want to serve today. We want a God who is all loving, a pacifist, a nice guy who wouldn't heart a fly- or say anything bad you either. God is a kind, compassionate God who loves the poor and sick, but God is also a jealous God who has raised nations only to destroy them. God has used national disasters to destroy the wicked, God has shown immense kindness to those who are weak and poor, and He has sought an end to violence and war.
Jesus himself is a contradiction, a being beyond our comprehension in many ways. Jesus came healing and speaking of love and restoration of things. But he also said he came to divide families, to turn children and parents against each other. Jesus spoke of peace, yet grew violent when people made a mockery of God. Jesus broke no laws of God, yet made it so that we were no longer slaves to that same law.
The truth is, we need to be very careful when we try to speak for God. The truth is, we never know exactly what God is thinking. Like my opening story, I know Jesus is the only way to the Father- He said so. What I don't know is if or how He will reveal Himself to people who know nothing of Jesus. Honestly, I don't know how He will reveal Himself to my own kids. So rather than try to make God do or say what I think will be best for someone to hear, I'll pray.
I'll pray that God makes clear the path I should follow, and the path I should point others to. I'll stop giving advice that protects my popularity, and start giving advice that is founded in the unshakable Truth of who Christ is.
And rather than me telling you what I think that Truth is- I'll tell you to seek Him for yourself. Ask me questions about what I believe, sure, but know that what I say is a very distant second to what He will reveal to you in His way.
We need to know what and why we believe, and the only way to discover that is to seek God and rely on His answers. Then, we need to stand on His truth, and not ride the fence.
That's really what I find wrong with much of today's theology- those who know what they believe are too afraid of culture to say what they really believe. And too often, those who do say what they really believe say it not out of love, but out of a desire to appear right and elite.
And really, God is the only one justified in being an Elitist.
I was a college freshman and my roommate and his girlfriend were in a heated debate over whether or not Jesus was the only way to heaven. He was a nominal Catholic (meaning he went to church, but didn't pay attention) and she was a Baptist. He felt very strongly that people devoted to their faith, any faith, surely wouldn't be punished by God. Eventually, they looked at me to settle the debate. I responded with what I very firmly knew, "Jesus is THE Way, THE Truth, and THE Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him." Confident that I had sufficiently settled the debate, I went back to trying to avoid this sort of conversation. But then he asked, "OK, but what about those people who have never heard of Jesus specifically? What if they worship a concept of God, without knowing the specifics? Would they still go to Hell for not accepting Jesus?"
The question really struck me. On one hand, I firmly believed what Jesus said about being the only way to the Father. On the other, it seemed really harsh of God to send these folks innocently ignorant of Him to Hell. I honestly didn't ( and really, still don't) know what to say to that, but I said that I believe God provides a way for them anyway.
And so, I made my first post-modern statement on God, long before I knew what post-modern was.
I have come to see that it is common and accepted for us to state what we think God would do, based only on what we want Him to do. There are the Pat Robertsons of the world who want God to judge harshly the sinners, so Hurricane Katrina is a judgment on 'sinful New Orleans.' There are a lot of folks who want God to be a teddy bear of love an acceptance for all, so they create doctrines that say nothing is sin. There are those who want God to be benevolent and a pacifist, so they protest wars and seek more government aid for the poor- while condemning those who don't agree with their methods.
On a personal level, I can think of times in the not to distant present when I, as a pastor, have been asked a question, and knowing that my response might alienate the questioner, tried to tailor my response to be what they want to hear- or at least a more easily digested response. I think my wanting to be liked and to pastor a church that is liked has made me sometimes wishy-washy with things of a concrete nature. Because of that, I can relate to people who try to make God in their own image, and it makes me a little angry at myself.
And it doesn't just happen with ideologue, politicians, activists and pastors, we all do it. We adopt an opinion and try to make sure God ( and everyone else) agrees with us.
But God is an elitist.
God is an Elitist, and That's OK
I really despise elitism amongst people. Elitism, as we know it, is just that at some point, someone decided one thing was more high brow than an another. Opera (soap operas sung in Latin) are determined to be more elite than Country Music (soap operas sung in Texan). Certain schools are more elite than others- sometimes justifiably so, sometimes because Old Money went to that one and not the other. Elitism, in my opinion is about believing that I am better than you, and that you are unable to comprehend just why, because you are too simple.
By that definition, God is an elitist.
God is better than us. He's perfect, so He's got that squared away. And truthfully, we really are too simple to understand why His ways are better than ours. (Right here is where He would play the "I'm Perfect!" card, if His ways were about the playing of such cards.) Inherent in that, is that we can't make sense of our God's choices, so we are lesser beings that He.
And that's OK.
The problem arises when we live in a world that demands to know how and why things work, but at the same time demands that there be nothing definitive about those things. "It may work for you, but it doesn't work for me." This may be a true statement for a workout regimen, but it cannot be true for the foundational aspects of God.
Some Things Are Not Negotiable
There are aspects of the Christian faith that are negotiable. We have freedom, given by Christ on the Cross to not be bound to extreme legalism. So, there is no absolute decree that I can't watch an R rated movie or have a beer. But for some people, they feel a strong desire to avoid those things, and they may attribute it to the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I view this type of thing as a negotiable- if the Bible doesn't explicitly say 'Yea' or 'Nay,' then the answer is to be found in personal interaction with God.
Non-negotiables are things explicitly stated about God. For instance, and back to where this started: There is one God, and one way to Him. Is it harsh? Is it elitist? Is is exclusionary? Absolutely. But keep in mind that God has always been this way. In the Old Testament, it was routine that an ENTIRE city be destroyed along with ALL inhabitants (kids and pets, too) so that the Israelites not be tempted with other gods. God is an elitist because He believes Himself better than anything else. In fact, He believes He is the ONLY one. Now, if I believe everything else God says about Himself (Creator, Perfect, Savior, Provider, Protector, Comforter, etc), how can I deny that when He says He is the Only God, He's telling the truth?
It is a pick and choose, a cafeteria plan God, we want to serve today. We want a God who is all loving, a pacifist, a nice guy who wouldn't heart a fly- or say anything bad you either. God is a kind, compassionate God who loves the poor and sick, but God is also a jealous God who has raised nations only to destroy them. God has used national disasters to destroy the wicked, God has shown immense kindness to those who are weak and poor, and He has sought an end to violence and war.
Jesus himself is a contradiction, a being beyond our comprehension in many ways. Jesus came healing and speaking of love and restoration of things. But he also said he came to divide families, to turn children and parents against each other. Jesus spoke of peace, yet grew violent when people made a mockery of God. Jesus broke no laws of God, yet made it so that we were no longer slaves to that same law.
The truth is, we need to be very careful when we try to speak for God. The truth is, we never know exactly what God is thinking. Like my opening story, I know Jesus is the only way to the Father- He said so. What I don't know is if or how He will reveal Himself to people who know nothing of Jesus. Honestly, I don't know how He will reveal Himself to my own kids. So rather than try to make God do or say what I think will be best for someone to hear, I'll pray.
I'll pray that God makes clear the path I should follow, and the path I should point others to. I'll stop giving advice that protects my popularity, and start giving advice that is founded in the unshakable Truth of who Christ is.
And rather than me telling you what I think that Truth is- I'll tell you to seek Him for yourself. Ask me questions about what I believe, sure, but know that what I say is a very distant second to what He will reveal to you in His way.
We need to know what and why we believe, and the only way to discover that is to seek God and rely on His answers. Then, we need to stand on His truth, and not ride the fence.
That's really what I find wrong with much of today's theology- those who know what they believe are too afraid of culture to say what they really believe. And too often, those who do say what they really believe say it not out of love, but out of a desire to appear right and elite.
And really, God is the only one justified in being an Elitist.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Giving is a Choice
I have this little idiosyncrasy where if someone tells me I have to do something, I immediately don't want to do it. Maybe it's my anti-authority stance, maybe it's my desire to first discover things for myself. Maybe, I'm just strange.
By the way, this isn't just things like, "You have to get this project done, " or "You have to pay your bills, " it is also suggestions from friends that go like "You have to read this book/see this movie/eat this food."
I guess, to me, if something becomes an obligation then it is no longer capable of being a joy for me. Case in point: I always loved history. I can watch the History Channel for hours. I was one class short of minoring in History in college. But I never read a single book a professor told me to in college. Even books I had wanted to read would go unread because it had become a requirement.
Maybe I am strange.
Lately, it seems that everyone is telling me that Christians have to care about the poor. I already knew this, and also already knew my deficiencies in doing something about it. Politicians have made a lot of great sound-bites arguing for more aid to the poor, the undocumented workers, the unemployed. They are people, and we should, as believers in a compassionate Savior, be moved to brokenness over the plight of a fellow human being. The political argument has been that it is the moral obligation of the United States Government to provide for the welfare of these people. Essentially, I, as a taxpayer, MUST help my fellow people.
Now, I am not going to speak to my political views on these issues, but I am going to speak to my personal feelings about not having a choice in giving charity.
It is not charity, it is not giving, if it is forced.
I don't only see this coming from our government , I see this coming from Christianity. We are told we must give. Oh, it's not done in the same way, it is much more subtle. You don't pay your taxes, the government takes your stuff. But Christianity has decided that we need to make you feel bad if you don't give. That you are less of a Christian if you don't give to the less fortunate. Let me say right here, we ARE called to give to others, we are called to take care of one another.
We are called to do it cheerfully, and of our own accord. AKA, not because we are guilted, or coerced, or forced into it. The fact is, I think there are a lot of us that would rather look the other way when it comes to poverty. When we do give, it is more out of obligation than out of love and true concern. The truth is, we are not better Christians because we give to the less fortunate, we are better people when we love each other and care for each other's needs of our own choice.
Choice is what it comes down to. If Jesus forced us to choose Him, then we would be with Him out of obligation, not love. If we give, to our church or the poor or the weak, because we have no choice or because we feel guilty, then it is not done in worship. Yeah, the people who get cared for benefit greatly, and there is no taking that good thing away. But as an individual, don't you want to do good AND become a better person in the process?
So we need to choose: to give willingly, and cheerfully? Or, do we allow ourselves to be forced to give? Like any time I'm told I HAVE to do something, I immediately put up a wall. So my answer? Before someone tells me I have to care about the poor, I'm going to start caring about the poor. Before I am forced to give, I will be prepared to give when the need arises.
By the way, this isn't just things like, "You have to get this project done, " or "You have to pay your bills, " it is also suggestions from friends that go like "You have to read this book/see this movie/eat this food."
I guess, to me, if something becomes an obligation then it is no longer capable of being a joy for me. Case in point: I always loved history. I can watch the History Channel for hours. I was one class short of minoring in History in college. But I never read a single book a professor told me to in college. Even books I had wanted to read would go unread because it had become a requirement.
Maybe I am strange.
Lately, it seems that everyone is telling me that Christians have to care about the poor. I already knew this, and also already knew my deficiencies in doing something about it. Politicians have made a lot of great sound-bites arguing for more aid to the poor, the undocumented workers, the unemployed. They are people, and we should, as believers in a compassionate Savior, be moved to brokenness over the plight of a fellow human being. The political argument has been that it is the moral obligation of the United States Government to provide for the welfare of these people. Essentially, I, as a taxpayer, MUST help my fellow people.
Now, I am not going to speak to my political views on these issues, but I am going to speak to my personal feelings about not having a choice in giving charity.
It is not charity, it is not giving, if it is forced.
I don't only see this coming from our government , I see this coming from Christianity. We are told we must give. Oh, it's not done in the same way, it is much more subtle. You don't pay your taxes, the government takes your stuff. But Christianity has decided that we need to make you feel bad if you don't give. That you are less of a Christian if you don't give to the less fortunate. Let me say right here, we ARE called to give to others, we are called to take care of one another.
We are called to do it cheerfully, and of our own accord. AKA, not because we are guilted, or coerced, or forced into it. The fact is, I think there are a lot of us that would rather look the other way when it comes to poverty. When we do give, it is more out of obligation than out of love and true concern. The truth is, we are not better Christians because we give to the less fortunate, we are better people when we love each other and care for each other's needs of our own choice.
Choice is what it comes down to. If Jesus forced us to choose Him, then we would be with Him out of obligation, not love. If we give, to our church or the poor or the weak, because we have no choice or because we feel guilty, then it is not done in worship. Yeah, the people who get cared for benefit greatly, and there is no taking that good thing away. But as an individual, don't you want to do good AND become a better person in the process?
So we need to choose: to give willingly, and cheerfully? Or, do we allow ourselves to be forced to give? Like any time I'm told I HAVE to do something, I immediately put up a wall. So my answer? Before someone tells me I have to care about the poor, I'm going to start caring about the poor. Before I am forced to give, I will be prepared to give when the need arises.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Can Bars and Churches Be Friends?
I've mentioned before that my church, the Gate, meets at a local bar/dancehall called Hurricane Harry's. We have developed a pretty good relationship with Lance and Craig, two of the managers who open for us on Sunday nights, so a couple weeks back, Lance approached me with a proposition. On the 12th of December, the bar was hosting a Toys for Tots drive- a 30 band concert- which meant we couldn't meet there that night, but he wondered if we would be interested in helping out.
We agreed to do that, since we were looking for more ways to serve the community, and loved the idea of serving others instead of having just a worship service. We later got asked if we would grill burgers and links for the workers, and charge a little money, some of which could go to the toy drive. We agreed, but decided to make all the money we made go to the drive. Wally, my co-pastor, and I headed it up, with a few of the folks from the church dropping in to help out a bit: Kristin and the kids, Yako, Evan, Nate, Jess, Jon, and Daniel. The attendance was lighter than we'd hoped, and what we didn't realize was that it was going to be cold.
The two of us were literally huddled as close to the grill as possible without burning ourselves. Thankfully, we had some half walls to block at least some of the 10-15 mph winds that were pushing forty-ish degree temps around our heads. Eventually, someone would come out and we'd have to spring into grilling action on a hamburger or a sausage link, we'd chat with the person and collect their money, thanking them for helping out. In the end, we raised just over $168 for Toys for Tots. Not bad for our first attempt.
But there was something else more important going on for us. See, I've seen throughout my life a certain, I guess I'd say animosity, between churches and bars. At best they tolerate each other, but more often than not a church can be heard decrying the evils of the bar. That's not to say that bad thing don't happen at bars, sin is definitely present. Not unlike how sin can be present at a church, you know, when we lie, or connive, or shun the different. I've heard local pastors literally seethe with anger at the bar patrons who leave trash on their lawn- and at times I've been one of those pastors- and lament the very existence of the bars.
Sunday for the Gate was about helping out kids, but it was also about stating to the bars and bar patrons in town that we still care enough about them as people to actually hang out with them. We had really good conversations with the people who came to our grill (supplied by local radio station KORA), and some of them even expressed amazement that we were a church helping a bar. To me, it shouldn't be shocking that a church is trying to help people, regardless of the venue. Christ came to care for people, whether they were poor or rich, virtuous or sleazy, sober or drunk. We let these people who may have had little or no contact with churches see that we Christians are normal people, too. And we got to see that these artists and their fans are normal people, too. There is no need for us to fear them, nor them to fear us. It was a beginning of what we hope to be a continuing dialogue with this section of the culture of Bryan/College Station and A&M. The fact is, I really genuinely liked the people we met, and would like to spend more time with them. And not just if they come to our church.
Because the people of Northgate and the bars that populate it are one big reason why we came here. To love them. To show them Jesus in our compassion, our love, and yes, in our attention to them. And not just if they come to church.
And we are very thankful to have had this opportunity.
We agreed to do that, since we were looking for more ways to serve the community, and loved the idea of serving others instead of having just a worship service. We later got asked if we would grill burgers and links for the workers, and charge a little money, some of which could go to the toy drive. We agreed, but decided to make all the money we made go to the drive. Wally, my co-pastor, and I headed it up, with a few of the folks from the church dropping in to help out a bit: Kristin and the kids, Yako, Evan, Nate, Jess, Jon, and Daniel. The attendance was lighter than we'd hoped, and what we didn't realize was that it was going to be cold.
The two of us were literally huddled as close to the grill as possible without burning ourselves. Thankfully, we had some half walls to block at least some of the 10-15 mph winds that were pushing forty-ish degree temps around our heads. Eventually, someone would come out and we'd have to spring into grilling action on a hamburger or a sausage link, we'd chat with the person and collect their money, thanking them for helping out. In the end, we raised just over $168 for Toys for Tots. Not bad for our first attempt.
But there was something else more important going on for us. See, I've seen throughout my life a certain, I guess I'd say animosity, between churches and bars. At best they tolerate each other, but more often than not a church can be heard decrying the evils of the bar. That's not to say that bad thing don't happen at bars, sin is definitely present. Not unlike how sin can be present at a church, you know, when we lie, or connive, or shun the different. I've heard local pastors literally seethe with anger at the bar patrons who leave trash on their lawn- and at times I've been one of those pastors- and lament the very existence of the bars.
Sunday for the Gate was about helping out kids, but it was also about stating to the bars and bar patrons in town that we still care enough about them as people to actually hang out with them. We had really good conversations with the people who came to our grill (supplied by local radio station KORA), and some of them even expressed amazement that we were a church helping a bar. To me, it shouldn't be shocking that a church is trying to help people, regardless of the venue. Christ came to care for people, whether they were poor or rich, virtuous or sleazy, sober or drunk. We let these people who may have had little or no contact with churches see that we Christians are normal people, too. And we got to see that these artists and their fans are normal people, too. There is no need for us to fear them, nor them to fear us. It was a beginning of what we hope to be a continuing dialogue with this section of the culture of Bryan/College Station and A&M. The fact is, I really genuinely liked the people we met, and would like to spend more time with them. And not just if they come to our church.
Because the people of Northgate and the bars that populate it are one big reason why we came here. To love them. To show them Jesus in our compassion, our love, and yes, in our attention to them. And not just if they come to church.
And we are very thankful to have had this opportunity.
Friday, December 10, 2010
How is Jesus?
Occasionally, I run into an old college friend that I haven't seen in awhile. We talk about where we've been with our lives, our families, our careers. Usually we get around to old mutual friends, and the question will come up, "How have they been?"
Part of what I love about the age we live in is that with all the social media out there, we can keep up with old friends, and even reconnect with people we haven't seen in ages. But even with all that, there is still one thing missing. Real personal contact. That question asking how someone has been goes far beyond a tweet or a status update, its deeper than the pictures they post, but it is also a doorway to a less 'safe' relationship. To get to how people are really doing, really feeling, it means opening up our lives to theirs, and vice versa.
I began to notice something recently amongst our fellow Gate members. We talked a lot about Aggie football, a lot about new movies coming out, or new games we'd played, even some about comic books or TV shows. We spent a good deal of time talking about the things that stress us out like tests and work, and even a little time discussing how to make the church stronger and more active in service to the community. We talked about God and religion.
But someone was going the way of the old college friend we hadn't seen in a while. Sure, he was on our minds, but he was far from our conversations. I can't say if this was because we were afraid to speak his name, or if we didn't feel comfortable talking about him so personally, or if he had disappeared from our personal lives so much that we just didn't care to speak of him.
We had grown silent on Jesus.
Sure, he was mentioned in our songs and our teachings, but our day to day conversation? Not so much. Honestly, I've always found it easier to talk about God than to talk about Jesus. Yeah, they are the same guy, but God is like a title, and can be ambiguous enough to not offend. Jesus is a guy's name. It's personal. It makes him more real.
Really, I was seeing our lack of speaking of Jesus as a metaphor for how we had become spiritually. See, speaking of God is way more 'clinical,' way more religion than relationship. We can discuss theology and talk God like he is a textbook case study. We can get at the facts and the details and the historical stories. But Jesus is deeper. Jesus is about relationship. Jesus is a dude you can really get to know, and scarier yet, he can really get to know you. We as a group- all of us, including us in leadership- had chosen to discuss things of a spiritual nature in a clinical, less relational way. And we were giving in to following a religion more than a relationship.
Then one day it hit me. If Jesus is like that old college friend that we haven't spoken of or to in a while, why not ask how he's doing? So I have come up with an approach that will hopefully serve to remind us of the RELATIONSHIP we are supposed to have with Jesus. When we see each other- and I am limiting this to people in our church and other close friends I know are followers (I'm not advocating doing this to random people on the street)- I'll ask, "How is Jesus?"
It is a question meant to cover two bases. One, have you thought about Jesus at all that day. And two, because he is active in our lives, whether we know it or not, it asks what he has been doing with or teaching to us. "How is Jesus?" reminds us to think of him not as a thing to be studied, but as a person to connect with.
I hope it will mean a deeper-than-Facebook type relationship with Jesus for not only our church, but for me personally. I realize that I daily need to connect with him, not just to mark off an item on the to-do list or to learn a new fact, but to know him. Really know him. And in knowing him, to share in his life, victories and sufferings. To know him like this:
I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. --Philippians 3:10-11.
Part of what I love about the age we live in is that with all the social media out there, we can keep up with old friends, and even reconnect with people we haven't seen in ages. But even with all that, there is still one thing missing. Real personal contact. That question asking how someone has been goes far beyond a tweet or a status update, its deeper than the pictures they post, but it is also a doorway to a less 'safe' relationship. To get to how people are really doing, really feeling, it means opening up our lives to theirs, and vice versa.
I began to notice something recently amongst our fellow Gate members. We talked a lot about Aggie football, a lot about new movies coming out, or new games we'd played, even some about comic books or TV shows. We spent a good deal of time talking about the things that stress us out like tests and work, and even a little time discussing how to make the church stronger and more active in service to the community. We talked about God and religion.
But someone was going the way of the old college friend we hadn't seen in a while. Sure, he was on our minds, but he was far from our conversations. I can't say if this was because we were afraid to speak his name, or if we didn't feel comfortable talking about him so personally, or if he had disappeared from our personal lives so much that we just didn't care to speak of him.
We had grown silent on Jesus.
Sure, he was mentioned in our songs and our teachings, but our day to day conversation? Not so much. Honestly, I've always found it easier to talk about God than to talk about Jesus. Yeah, they are the same guy, but God is like a title, and can be ambiguous enough to not offend. Jesus is a guy's name. It's personal. It makes him more real.
Really, I was seeing our lack of speaking of Jesus as a metaphor for how we had become spiritually. See, speaking of God is way more 'clinical,' way more religion than relationship. We can discuss theology and talk God like he is a textbook case study. We can get at the facts and the details and the historical stories. But Jesus is deeper. Jesus is about relationship. Jesus is a dude you can really get to know, and scarier yet, he can really get to know you. We as a group- all of us, including us in leadership- had chosen to discuss things of a spiritual nature in a clinical, less relational way. And we were giving in to following a religion more than a relationship.
Then one day it hit me. If Jesus is like that old college friend that we haven't spoken of or to in a while, why not ask how he's doing? So I have come up with an approach that will hopefully serve to remind us of the RELATIONSHIP we are supposed to have with Jesus. When we see each other- and I am limiting this to people in our church and other close friends I know are followers (I'm not advocating doing this to random people on the street)- I'll ask, "How is Jesus?"
It is a question meant to cover two bases. One, have you thought about Jesus at all that day. And two, because he is active in our lives, whether we know it or not, it asks what he has been doing with or teaching to us. "How is Jesus?" reminds us to think of him not as a thing to be studied, but as a person to connect with.
I hope it will mean a deeper-than-Facebook type relationship with Jesus for not only our church, but for me personally. I realize that I daily need to connect with him, not just to mark off an item on the to-do list or to learn a new fact, but to know him. Really know him. And in knowing him, to share in his life, victories and sufferings. To know him like this:
I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. --Philippians 3:10-11.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Count the Bags Before You Rake the Leaves
Saturday morning, I decided to rake leaves. Our home has a little over 30 trees on the lot, and all but maybe four lose their leaves, so this is by no means a one day operation. I decided to focus on the driveway and the large space just in front of our front door (home to about 8 small to medium sized trees and some ivy). Pretty soon, I noticed how much I raked and blown up, and thought, to make it more fun, I'd see how tall a pile I could make. Plus, then the kids could play in a ginormous pile of decaying leaves. This is the result:
That is about three and a half feet tall, and about ten feet long. It is also in the middle of the driveway (that's important). The kids had a blast, but it was time to finish the job, because we had lunch to eat and a movie to get to. I go to grab the leaf bags and out falls two. That's it. I spent a bit of time looking from the bags to the pile, squarely placed in the MIDDLE of the driveway, and trying to figure out how to fit it all in the bags I had. Both of them.
In the end, I had to push the leaves I couldn't get bagged up (about 75%) off to the side so a car could get out to go get more leaf bags. And I was left remembering Jesus teaching that you needed to count the cost before you begin to build, or something to that effect. I had jumped into something very much excited, but I lacked the equipment, and the time, to complete the job.
I've seen this become a problem in so many of our lives of late. Not just when it comes to our spiritual walk, but in EVERY aspect of our lives we jump in with both feet only to discover our available resources and time don't match our excitement. So we get stressed, we sacrifice other, often important, things to finish the task we once approached with great excitement. Now, we approach it with an obligated feeling that we have to finish what we started.
I get what Jesus is saying. We need to make sure we are willing to give a job, or a calling, or a ministry, or a task all that it needs well before we drop ourselves into the commitment. We need to stop making promises that we can't keep without severely compromising the integrity of the endeavor- or the integrity of the other things we are already committed to.
Know your limits, what you can take on before you get so far in you can't get out without finishing it. Know what you have to offer before you commit what you don't have.
And please, please, count the leaf bags before blocking the driveway with a leaf mountain.
That is about three and a half feet tall, and about ten feet long. It is also in the middle of the driveway (that's important). The kids had a blast, but it was time to finish the job, because we had lunch to eat and a movie to get to. I go to grab the leaf bags and out falls two. That's it. I spent a bit of time looking from the bags to the pile, squarely placed in the MIDDLE of the driveway, and trying to figure out how to fit it all in the bags I had. Both of them.
In the end, I had to push the leaves I couldn't get bagged up (about 75%) off to the side so a car could get out to go get more leaf bags. And I was left remembering Jesus teaching that you needed to count the cost before you begin to build, or something to that effect. I had jumped into something very much excited, but I lacked the equipment, and the time, to complete the job.
I've seen this become a problem in so many of our lives of late. Not just when it comes to our spiritual walk, but in EVERY aspect of our lives we jump in with both feet only to discover our available resources and time don't match our excitement. So we get stressed, we sacrifice other, often important, things to finish the task we once approached with great excitement. Now, we approach it with an obligated feeling that we have to finish what we started.
I get what Jesus is saying. We need to make sure we are willing to give a job, or a calling, or a ministry, or a task all that it needs well before we drop ourselves into the commitment. We need to stop making promises that we can't keep without severely compromising the integrity of the endeavor- or the integrity of the other things we are already committed to.
Know your limits, what you can take on before you get so far in you can't get out without finishing it. Know what you have to offer before you commit what you don't have.
And please, please, count the leaf bags before blocking the driveway with a leaf mountain.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Scars of Friendship
I've been scratched a great deal over the course of my life. By pets, by my kids, by thorns, and once by a high school girl basketball player during a practice our JV had with them. But for the most part, these scratches were short lived, both in their appearance and their memory. I know these things happened, but details get fuzzy and often disappear altogether.
But my scars are a different story. I still bear a scar on my right hand/forearm from running into a cattle panel (a criss-cross of 1/4 inch steel bars used for fencing). It's about 2-3 inches long, visible and I can remember the searing feeling of its first appearance. Then there is the 'Nike swoosh' I have on my left index finger. It's there because I tried to take a stainless steel sink through a too narrow door, too quickly. Several stitches later, its still there and the feeling in that finger no longer is.
Scars stick with us, they make an impact. And as unflattering as it may seem, the people in our lives are either scratches or scars. Some of them make a mark on our lives that fades and disappears. Others remain in our lives long after they have moved on.
I'll never forget guys like Jared and Donald who would stand up for me when bullies or upperclassmen came around. They were protectors when I was unable to stand for myself. The image of Morgan and Michael running up the stairs to my apartment, then sitting with me for who knows how long as I came to grips with the news that my father had just passed away is one that is permanently on my heart. A young man named Lynn, just a year my senior, visited with me at my grandfather's funeral, offering words of comfort. Just a few months later I sat at his own funeral, struck still with the poignancy of his words.
Not all scars are bad memories, though. Ask a woman who bears the scar of a C-section and you will hear a story that results in great joy. Not unlike the person who bears a scar of a surgery that saved their life. Dusty was my "Disc Golf Discipleship" buddy. Dave was my crazy roommate that still managed to challenge me to grow in Christ. Jay and Glenn were two ministers that pushed and challenged me to use my gifts for the Lord, and occasionally threw down a bit of a gauntlet that spurred me on that path.
Most of these folks I've not seen in years, and only really interacted with via Facebook and email if at all. Yet I see their faces vividly, clearly, and their words and actions are a part of my soul. They are my Scars of Friendship.
I've been looking at the state of my life lately, and I have been disappointed in the level of impact I've had on those around me. Sure, if you ask the people around me they say I have had an impact, but I doubt its of the 'scar' variety. The mark I've made will fade in time. I know there are people I have left a permanent mark on, so this isn't a call for pity or encouragement from anyone- this is a wake up call to me, and I just want to share it with you.
I pastor a very small church. We want to be unique, non-traditional, and impactful. I've worried a lot about us making an impact on the community around us, asking if our little church in a bar disappeared tomorrow, would the community miss us. Sadly the answer is no. More sad is that a new question dawned on me last night. Would the people of the Gate really miss the Gate if it were gone? Have we made a true, 'scarring' impact on each other?
This is not an earth-shattering question, but rather a question any pastor should ask about his congregation. Do my people really matter to each other- do they NEED each other? Forget pastors, every follower of Christ needs to ask this question- Do I make an impact on those closest to me- to my brothers and sisters in Christ? Or am I just a good-time buddy, a common interest sharer, or a ride on a cold night?
The people who "scarred" me went deeper than the skin. They pierced something in me that was more a core thing, a soul thing. Our little community of believers have a lot of fun seeking God- but I wonder how deeply we seek Him. Does He leave a mark on us when we encounter Him as a church?
To me, the two are tied. If I am not living to make an impact on those around me, I'm living to allow God to make His on me. We've allowed our busy lives, and our fear of getting hurt, and our less important things take away from the impact we need to have on each other. We play our relationships safe, we keep our cards close to the vest as if we were playing Go Fish with our lives. If you're lucky, and guess just right, I'll reveal a bit of myself, open a bit of myself to you.
This must change, not just in our little church, but amongst followers of Christ everywhere.
So How Do We Do It?
Do Something That Matters Together- Some of the people that 'scarred' me did so in a very dramatic event- like the loss of something dear to me. I'm not saying we need to create something like that, instead, make it a positive thing. Go on a service trip together (aka Mission Trip). This bonds people together, and deeply, like nothing I've seen. You can do short term stuff, like a day event, but for it to really make an impact, it needs to be intense if it has to be short. Helping at a food pantry is good, but it doesn't go deep. The shorter the duration of the project, the more intense it should be. Ropes Courses are good that sort of thing, as well as the service stuff.
Be Open- We're so afraid of letting others in, that we close up our doors. We wear the equivalent of body-armor in our relationships with other Christians so we don't get hurt. Part of this is we fear we'll be judged, part of it is we fear being discovered as a phony. Sometimes, we need to be expose. Sometimes, we need to get hurt by those we love (in a helpful, good way, like how a surgeon does harm to make you better).
Set the Relationship on Christ- Yes, you need to be engaged with each other because you care about the other person. But you need to care about the other person because you love Christ. Your love for them will always be flawed and imperfect- His will never fail to be perfect. This is not easy, but if you want to impact your fellow Christ Follower, Jesus must be the foundation of the relationship.
The people who have left a 'scar' on my life have done so in at least one of these ways. It is in remembering their marking of my life that I encouraged today. To be a better husband, father, pastor, and friend. I share this in hopes that you too are 'scarred' in way that makes you think deeply about the impact you have on others. If you read this and it does speak to you, share it with friends.
I have come to realize that I need to make a difference in the lives of those closest to me if I ever want to make difference in the lives of those farthest from me. My 'scars' have come from all varieties of people, but the thing they have in common is that they cared about me enough to get their hands dirty with my life. To risk their own 'scars' for the sake of my betterment. They have, in ways big and small, 'laid down their lives for their friend." (John 15:13, paraphrased)
It is high time I do the same for my friends.
But my scars are a different story. I still bear a scar on my right hand/forearm from running into a cattle panel (a criss-cross of 1/4 inch steel bars used for fencing). It's about 2-3 inches long, visible and I can remember the searing feeling of its first appearance. Then there is the 'Nike swoosh' I have on my left index finger. It's there because I tried to take a stainless steel sink through a too narrow door, too quickly. Several stitches later, its still there and the feeling in that finger no longer is.
Scars stick with us, they make an impact. And as unflattering as it may seem, the people in our lives are either scratches or scars. Some of them make a mark on our lives that fades and disappears. Others remain in our lives long after they have moved on.
I'll never forget guys like Jared and Donald who would stand up for me when bullies or upperclassmen came around. They were protectors when I was unable to stand for myself. The image of Morgan and Michael running up the stairs to my apartment, then sitting with me for who knows how long as I came to grips with the news that my father had just passed away is one that is permanently on my heart. A young man named Lynn, just a year my senior, visited with me at my grandfather's funeral, offering words of comfort. Just a few months later I sat at his own funeral, struck still with the poignancy of his words.
Not all scars are bad memories, though. Ask a woman who bears the scar of a C-section and you will hear a story that results in great joy. Not unlike the person who bears a scar of a surgery that saved their life. Dusty was my "Disc Golf Discipleship" buddy. Dave was my crazy roommate that still managed to challenge me to grow in Christ. Jay and Glenn were two ministers that pushed and challenged me to use my gifts for the Lord, and occasionally threw down a bit of a gauntlet that spurred me on that path.
Most of these folks I've not seen in years, and only really interacted with via Facebook and email if at all. Yet I see their faces vividly, clearly, and their words and actions are a part of my soul. They are my Scars of Friendship.
I've been looking at the state of my life lately, and I have been disappointed in the level of impact I've had on those around me. Sure, if you ask the people around me they say I have had an impact, but I doubt its of the 'scar' variety. The mark I've made will fade in time. I know there are people I have left a permanent mark on, so this isn't a call for pity or encouragement from anyone- this is a wake up call to me, and I just want to share it with you.
I pastor a very small church. We want to be unique, non-traditional, and impactful. I've worried a lot about us making an impact on the community around us, asking if our little church in a bar disappeared tomorrow, would the community miss us. Sadly the answer is no. More sad is that a new question dawned on me last night. Would the people of the Gate really miss the Gate if it were gone? Have we made a true, 'scarring' impact on each other?
This is not an earth-shattering question, but rather a question any pastor should ask about his congregation. Do my people really matter to each other- do they NEED each other? Forget pastors, every follower of Christ needs to ask this question- Do I make an impact on those closest to me- to my brothers and sisters in Christ? Or am I just a good-time buddy, a common interest sharer, or a ride on a cold night?
The people who "scarred" me went deeper than the skin. They pierced something in me that was more a core thing, a soul thing. Our little community of believers have a lot of fun seeking God- but I wonder how deeply we seek Him. Does He leave a mark on us when we encounter Him as a church?
To me, the two are tied. If I am not living to make an impact on those around me, I'm living to allow God to make His on me. We've allowed our busy lives, and our fear of getting hurt, and our less important things take away from the impact we need to have on each other. We play our relationships safe, we keep our cards close to the vest as if we were playing Go Fish with our lives. If you're lucky, and guess just right, I'll reveal a bit of myself, open a bit of myself to you.
This must change, not just in our little church, but amongst followers of Christ everywhere.
So How Do We Do It?
Do Something That Matters Together- Some of the people that 'scarred' me did so in a very dramatic event- like the loss of something dear to me. I'm not saying we need to create something like that, instead, make it a positive thing. Go on a service trip together (aka Mission Trip). This bonds people together, and deeply, like nothing I've seen. You can do short term stuff, like a day event, but for it to really make an impact, it needs to be intense if it has to be short. Helping at a food pantry is good, but it doesn't go deep. The shorter the duration of the project, the more intense it should be. Ropes Courses are good that sort of thing, as well as the service stuff.
Be Open- We're so afraid of letting others in, that we close up our doors. We wear the equivalent of body-armor in our relationships with other Christians so we don't get hurt. Part of this is we fear we'll be judged, part of it is we fear being discovered as a phony. Sometimes, we need to be expose. Sometimes, we need to get hurt by those we love (in a helpful, good way, like how a surgeon does harm to make you better).
Set the Relationship on Christ- Yes, you need to be engaged with each other because you care about the other person. But you need to care about the other person because you love Christ. Your love for them will always be flawed and imperfect- His will never fail to be perfect. This is not easy, but if you want to impact your fellow Christ Follower, Jesus must be the foundation of the relationship.
The people who have left a 'scar' on my life have done so in at least one of these ways. It is in remembering their marking of my life that I encouraged today. To be a better husband, father, pastor, and friend. I share this in hopes that you too are 'scarred' in way that makes you think deeply about the impact you have on others. If you read this and it does speak to you, share it with friends.
I have come to realize that I need to make a difference in the lives of those closest to me if I ever want to make difference in the lives of those farthest from me. My 'scars' have come from all varieties of people, but the thing they have in common is that they cared about me enough to get their hands dirty with my life. To risk their own 'scars' for the sake of my betterment. They have, in ways big and small, 'laid down their lives for their friend." (John 15:13, paraphrased)
It is high time I do the same for my friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
