A Big Day

Some days are bigger than others.  You did not need to read my blog to know this.  All I have to say is 9/11, Black Monday or Good Friday and you not only know what happened, but you probably can even attach emotion to it.  These kinds of days shape the collective conscious of an entire nation and people.  

 

There are other big days which do not affect nearly as many.  For those who are touched, however, they are just as big. They may only influence a community, or even just a small group of friends, but the impact of the day for those people is as significant as any big day we all remember.

I have had the great privilege of being part of many communities and groups of friends that have existed at the same time and often over lapped one another.  Today was a big day for one of those communities.

It started when I got a call from a friend who was heading to the hospital with his siblings.  They were going to have to make some significant decisions regarding the care of their mother who had suffered a massive heart attack.  Together, they decided that the compassionate thing to do was to create the space to allow her body to take its natural course.  A few hours later I received a call that she had quickly passed from this life to the next.  She was relieved of her pain and partook of the ultimate healing, but that does not erase the loss that he and his family now face.  It is a big day.

Not long after this, I got an email from another one of the pillars of this little community.  He happens to be the youngest of us all.  Though the message had lots of words in it, one word stood out, cancer.  He had just received the news from his doctor, and was reaching out to us.  The shock had not even had time to wear off when he turned to us and asked us to pray.  One phone call, one email, adds up to a big day.

A little later in the day, a woman connected to this community sent us a text also asking for prayer.  She had an interview at five.  It is for a job that she is really interested in, but more importantly getting it would allow her to transition out of a place of employment that has been a hard situation in which to work.  We of course said we would pray, but we have yet to hear how the interview went.  For her so much hangs in the balance of this decision.  It could spring her to what would feel like new life, or it could mean another season of being faithful in a hard place.  We do not know the outcome of the interview, but we do know it is a big day.

I retreated to my back yard.  In the mindless maintenance which takes place there, I can ponder and pray.  My hands were cleaning and fixing, but my spirit was focused on the big day that had just taken place.  As I prayed and contemplated what was happening in the lives of this small group of friends, I found my heart turning to thankfulness. 

How wonderful it was to pray for them, to know there are people who are ready and eager to stand in the gap for one another.  They are ready to cut the weight of grief in half by sharing its load.  They are there to pick a brother up when he is knocked down.  They are there to hope with you for the things your heart longs for.  In short, a group of people you belong to where your big day also becomes theirs.

I was alone in the back yard, but I could not have not felt any more connected to these people.  As I turned to each one in prayer my heart felt their loss, their fear, and their hope.  Their trials and anticipations became mine as well.  This was a privilege.  The reality of it moved my heart from thankfulness to joy.

It is pure joy to be connected to people at this level, where your days are intertwined and you share life in all its hardship and glory.  It is not a joy that overlooks the loss, fear or anticipation, but one that grown out of the truth you are part of a community which willingly shares these big days, as well as all the little days in between them.

As I held the hose in the back yard, watching the water pour out of it and soak into the lawn the events of the day, the thankfulness I felt in the connection of our lives, and the joy that came from the depth of our relationships poured into my soul and saturated it with love.  A warmth grew over me.  Maybe it was the result of holding my friends.  Maybe it was a byproduct of prayer.  More than likely it was simply the result of experiencing what we were designed to know, the unity of love that binds us together and enables us to absorb as one what this big day, or any other, has to hold.

Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion.  But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.  Furthermore, if two lie down together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone?  And if ^[one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart. (Ecc. 4:9-12)

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. (Proverbs 17:17)

Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)

When shared with a friend, joy is doubled, sorrow is halved. 

If You Haven't Heard, I Am Looking For A Job.

If you did not know, or have not figured it out by reading my blog, I am out of work and looking for a job.

What I am discovering as I walk this path is the procedure for finding a position in ministry is much the same as looking for employment in any other profession: you work your network to make connections; you search online job listings to see if there are positions that fit who you are; and you build relationships with people and organizations that specialize in helping place people in ministries. 

In this process, I find what seems to matter when looking for a job in ministry are the same things which matter to the world.  People talk about the quality of your résumé, they critique your personal photo, they pick apart your appearance and the impression it makes, and they give you lots of tips on how to sell yourself.

One organization I have connected with sends me a weekly email that gives advice to both employees and employers on how to best present yourself in ways which will either make someone want to hire you, or entice someone to come and work for you.  In the last issue it discussed four things an employer needs to be sure their next hire possesses.  Given the fact I am out of work and looking for a job I thought ought to read it and be sure I knew the four qualities my next employer might want me have before they hired me.

The first thing on the list was, according to this article, your next employee needed to have is a personal brand that would build the influence of your church or organization.  This would be measured by their use of social media and the broad scope of influence they could bring based upon their network.  Of course, the first question that came to mind was, “Uh-oh, I wonder what my personal brand would be and what it would say about my ability to widen the influence of an organization?”  

To be honest, I did not spend much time pondering this because another question entered my mind. “What would be the personal brand of the people God has used to weave His story of creation, fall, redemption and restoration?”

Think about it.  Moses would be branded a Hebrew (when being a Hebrew wasn’t cool), a murderer, and one, according to the book of Acts, who seemed to  possess a savior complex.  Abraham would be branded a man who would throw his wife under the bus to save his own neck.  Jacob was a usurper and deceiver.  Joseph was seen as arrogant.  He was such an irritation his brothers got rid of him. Elijah was a runner and hid in a cave.  Samson would be branded as a man who was too interested in women for his own good.  David would be branded a boy who's greatness was overlooked by those who knew him best. He would also be an adulterer and a murder.  Gideon was a coward who had to put a fleece before God before he would believe.  Rahab was a harlot. 

Unless we think it somehow the kind of people God would use to write His story had shifted with the donning of the New Covenant, Mary was a branded a nobody from nowhere.  Her son, Jesus, was branded a glutton and drunkard, a friend of sinners, a blasphemer, and worthy of crucifixion.  Those who followed him were no better; they were men who had not been chosen to follow the Rabbis of their day.  They were fishermen, tax collectors who were despised by their people, and probably tradesmen who did not hold positions of great influence.  Paul, the disciple with the best personal brand, struggled to be accepted by the church because of his reputation for imprisoning and putting to death followers of the Way.  His brand was that of a Pharisees, a Hebrew of Hebrews and persecutor of the church.  Put that on your resume and try to get a job in ministry.

In fact, I cannot help but wonder if any of the people who God used to weave His great story would stand a chance of getting a position in ministry with how important personal branding has apparently become to the organization we call the church.

Given the dichotomy between what the organizational church seems to be looking for and who God seems to be intent on using, one finds himself in a personal dilemma of what brand he is going to present to the world.  I assure you, my experience thus far in the process tells me that this is a real crossroads that every man and woman who seeks to fulfill their calling in ministry will come to. 

I cannot say what is right for everyone, but my sense is the manifestation of the Kingdom of God, by its very nature, turns the kingdom of this world on its head.  When we seek to build the Kingdom of God by mimicking the world, in the process we destroy the very thing we hope to make known.

Given this fact, I desire my personal brand to be that of a man who is foolish and weak, a man who is not looking to secure my authority and position, but one who seeks to serve.   I do not want people to see in me strength, but dependence on God, for everything.  I do not want to be seen as one who has the answers, but as one who is willing to wait for the Father to reveal His will, and then as a man who trust Him enough to follow Him. 

This brand may not be what organizations are looking for, but it is a risk which I am compelled to take.  As I have been working this process, I have come to realize that I am not actually looking for a job at all.  What I am looking for is a life.  This life is to be lived out in community.  This community will be centered on Jesus Christ, and it will manifest the Kingdom of God in ways an organization that mimics the world simply cannot.

For this I am more than willing to be branded something other than what is valued by the world, and seemingly by most Christian organizations.   This may seem like foolishness, given the need to pay the mortgage and put food on the table.  Believe me, I know this pressure is real, but as I read God’s story it seems to be the only way to actually join Him in the story He is continuing to write.  It is in only in this story we can truly discover the reality of the Kingdom, and be empowered to live the life we have been promised.

I am not saying this is an easy brand to take on.  If we are going to be humble we will usually have to experience humiliation.  If God’s power is going to be demonstrated in our weakness, we will by necessity need to be viewed as weak.  If we are going to submit to the will of the Father, we will have to lay our will down.  If we are going to be last, we are going to have to allow others to be first.  In order to be a servant we will have to take a submissive posture to others.

If these realities are making you feel a little uncomfortable, that’s good, because it means I am not alone.  The values of the Kingdom pushes against the values the world has been instilling in us from the day we were born. They have been so engrained in us that even the community we make up as followers of Christ, which is supposed to embody the Kingdom of God in this world, often seems to mimic the world more than it manifest the Kingdom.

If we were honest with ourselves, this is because we do not trust God will really show up in power in the midst of our weakness, humility, submission, and yielding to His leading.  Because we do not trust, we position ourselves to be seen as strong, smart, worthy, self-sufficient, and filled with greatness.  In the process we step out of the story of God, and imprison ourselves in a much smaller story that will eventually suck the life out of us.

As I said earlier, I am not looking for a job, but a life. I pray God will give me the ability to trust Him enough to step into His story, even if it is not the first thing on the list of what headhunters suggest ministries need to look for in the people they hire.

Jesus said that in his kingdom the first will be last and the last will be first (Matt. 20:16).

He said that whoever wanted to be great would have to be a servant (Matt. 20: 26).

He said whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. (Matt. 16:25)

The apostle Paul said that God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, that he chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong (1 Cor. 1:27).

According to Paul, Jesus was equal to God, and then he emptied himself and made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant (Phil. 2:6-11).

Jesus was rich, yet for our sake he became poor, so that through his poverty we would become rich (2 Cor. 8:9).

We have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves.  (2 Cor. 4:7)

A Story Worth Waiting For

I went to four different colleges in the process of getting my four year undergraduate degree.  One of the places I attended was Point Loma Nazarene College.  It was a beautiful location; the dorm I lived in overlooked the Pacific.  It was filled with great people: I have very fond memories of the friends I made.  It had great professors: many of them inspired us to follow Jesus.  Despite all of this, If I were honest, it had been a very long time since I gave any serious thought about the place or the time I spent there.  That changed about a month ago.   

 

One of my friends from Point Loma found me on facebook.  Apparently, he had been looking for me for about 10 years.  Though he remembered I came from the Central Valley, he thought I lived in Manteca, and so he searched for me there.  Since I have only driven through the place on my way to somewhere else he had little success in tracking me down.  Once facebook appeared on the scene, he began to try to track me down via the internet.  Unable to remember how to spell Ottenad, this effort was not any more successful.  Finally, he turned the search over to his wife, who was able to solve the mystery of where I had been for all these years.

He lives in Irvine.  He imagined I lived in the Central Valley.  Picture his surprise when he discovered I had been living in Long Beach ever since we left Point Loma.  Once we connected on facebook he explained had been looking for me for some time because he wanted to share with me the impact I had on him in his early years of following Jesus.  We made plans, set a date and last night we went to his home for dinner.

I could recount for you how gracious his wife was and how quickly she endeared herself to us.  I could tell you about his sons and what wonderful young men they seemed to be.  I could even recount for you how great it was to reconnect with this long lost friend and the ease with which, despite all the years that have passed, we were able to pick up our friendship.  It might be even more entertaining to tell you some of the stories he told, because he is a great storyteller, but I think I just want to tell you one.  It is part of the reason we were there in the first place.

My friend loved to surf and was much better at it than he would let on.  He was reluctant to get too involved in the surf culture of the school.  After all, he was there to study.  Because of his reluctance, when the annual surf completion the school holds rolled around he only half heartedly entered.  I on the other hand was very excited and had full confidence he would do well.  The day of the competition I showed up at his dorm door to pick him up so we could head out to the beach.   He began talking about backing out.  To hear him tell it, I would have none of it and talked him into going.

At the competition, he was in a heat which would lead to the finals, but had not caught a wave.  He remembers seeing me sitting on the beach with my eyes closed.  Later he asked me what I was doing and I told him I was praying he would catch a good wave (back then I must have thought you could only pray with your eyes closed).  Just then a perfect wave broke and he was the first surfer up.  It was a great ride.  There was only about five minutes left in the heat and he needed at least two more waves.  Just like in the movies, with time running out he paddled back out, caught the next wave, had another great ride.  Moving quickly, he paddled past the break once more and caught his last wave of the heat just before the horn blew.  Best of all he won and headed to the finals.

I wish I could tell you he won it all that day.  He ended coming in second, but that is not the point of the story.  As I sat there with my friend listening to him retell the events of that day he explained to me how impactful it was to his life, having a friend praying for him and to seeing God answer that prayer in such a specific way.

There were other stories he told, like the time we went out sharing our faith and he ended up inviting a Jewish family to church.  After he knocked on their door, a woman answered and kindly pointed out the Star of David and asked him what it meant.  He told her he had no idea.  When she explained the family was Jewish, he smiled and said it was ok for Jewish people to come to church.   She closed the door.

My friend had only been following Jesus for about a year and came from a church where there was very little difference between the people he had been hanging out with on the beach and the people who were in the church.  He told me that I was one of the first people to show him what following Jesus was like, and the time we shared at Point Loma made a spiritual impact on him.

Here is the thing.  I was just a college student who was only a few years older in the faith than he was.  I was doing nothing more special than seeking to follow Jesus myself and allowing this reality to permeate all the areas of my life, including my friendships.  We did not meet for weekly bible study, had no discipleship plan, there was no “I am discipler” and “you are the disciplee.”  There was just friendship, shared life, and a desire to become like Jesus, in both of us.

Somehow, the Holy Spirit took all of this and impacted my friend’s life in a significant way.  To hear his wife tell it, the stories we were remembering are stories he has told to his sons over and over.  At one point she turned to me and said we have always heard his version of the story, we want to hear yours.  I was a little embarrassed because I wasn’t quite sure which story she was talking about.  That was when he reminded me of the day of the surf competition and the prayer on the beach. 

I was there.  I did pray.  I remember being excited that he won the heat, but the impact of that moment on his life had very little to do with me.  It is the Spirit of God who used the moment to cement in my friend’s soul something significant about the ability to call out to God and have Him answer in very specific ways.  I had no idea of the significance of that moment to my friend until he shared it with me over dinner.

It made me wonder how many other holy moments take place in our lives which we will never recognize this side of heaven, unless we are given the gift of someone telling us about them.  It also made me realize most of the holy moments of our lives are not going to come while we are sitting in church.  They are going to happen in dorms, on the beach, at work, in our neighborhoods, and just about every other imaginable place you can think of. They are going to come as we are sharing life, extending friendship, and living out our desire to become like Jesus.  They are going to come as we love one another, cheer one another on, and pray for one another.

Sitting around their table, telling stories from the past, and catching up on where our lives have taken us since then, became a very holy moment for me.  I could see how God knits all things together.  I marveled at how He uses every part of our lives to mold and shape us spiritually, sometimes in surprising ways,  and I recognized His graciousness to me in being able to sit down at a table with my friend in this season of my life. It was a gift.

As I sat there basking in the joy of the moment, I wondered, given God’s perfect timing, why it took so long for my friend to find me.  I cannot help but think, if my friend and I are willing to watch together and maybe pray with our eyes open, we may be surprised by the traces of the sacred that we are yet to see.  I have a sneaky suspicion the story is not yet complete.

When it is, you will want to hear my friend tell it, because he is a great storyteller. 

Beauty in a Boat

I have long had this romantic notion of what it would be like to go sailing.  I am not talking about tacking back and forth in a 8 foot Sabot in the bay.  I want to climb aboard a sailboat that is large enough to take me out of the bay, through the channel made by the jetty and past the breakwater to the open ocean.   I want the boat to be large enough to then take me far beyond the Channel Islands to a point from which I can no longer see land, and I want to stay there until it is dark.

I say this is a romantic notion because I have no ideas what it would be like to have this experience.  I have never been on a boat, let alone a sailboat, which has ventured out far enough for the land to disappear.  I can only imagine what it would be to find myself in a place where all landmarks have faded into the distance and the sun dipping into the sea allows complete darkness to close in around you.

In my imagination this is a very beautiful place.  The ocean is calm, and I can hear the water lap against the sides of the boat.  The only other sound I hear is the wind as it gently rustles through the canvas of the sails.  The sun sets, and while the beauty of this image still hangs in my memory the night sky appears.   Since I cannot see land, there is no light to compete with the gleaming stars.  They are seen, maybe for the first time in my life, in the fullness of their glory.

I cannot help but wonder what it would be to spend a night lying on my back on the deck of a sailboat staring up into the heavens at this canopy of twinkling lights, or to look out over the calm water and see the stars mirrored in the sea. 

But what if this is not what it would be like at all?  What if the sea was rough and the night sky was filled with clouds.  Rather than being a background upon which the stars gleamed like diamonds in the sky, the heavens acted like a vacuum which seemingly swallowed all light.  What if the wind tore through the sails and the waves rocked the boat violently and you lied down, cleaning to the deck, not to drink in the beauty, but because to stand was nearly impossible.  Would this be nearly as romantic, could any beauty be found?

I have some dear friends who seemingly have sailed onto just such a sea.  He is a man who struggles with a degenerative disease that becomes more debilitating with each passing year. His wife, who has walked this journey with him, and who has lovingly cared for him, suffered a stroke this week.  What happens when the caregiver suddenly needs care?  What is it is for the spouse who has needed the support of their mate to suddenly become the one who is the most able bodied?  I can only imagine, but I think it must feel as if they have sailed to a place where the landmarks have disappeared and the darkness has closed in.  A place where light seems to have vanished and there is no time to gaze up into the night sky because you are trying to keep the boat, which is lurching in the waves, from knocking you off of your feet.

As I prayed for them throughout the night, the image of the disciples in the boat in the middle of the storm came to me.  A furious squall had come across the lake.  The wind whipped through the sails and the waves grew so violent that they nearly swamped the boat.  These followers of Christ were panicked.  Jesus, on the other hand, slept comfortably on a cushion until they woke him.  These panic-stricken fishermen accused him of not caring about the fact they were about to lose their life.  We remember the story because of what Jesus did next; he commanded the wind and the waves to be still, and they became so.  This is an amazing feat, but it is not really the point of the story.  The lesson is not that Jesus calms the storms of our lives.  Jesus turns to them and asks the simple question, “Why are you afraid. Do you still have no faith?”  The point of the story is that in the middle of the storm we need not be afraid because we can trust the One who is with us.  He is powerful, capable, and sees beyond the wind and the waves.

Christ doesn’t just call us to this trust; he embodies this kind of trust so we can see what it looks like.  We certainly see it as He is sleeping on the cushion in the stern of that boat which was being tossed on the lake.  He trusts the Father who is with him.  We see it even more fully when He finds himself in the middle of his own storm.  In the garden, He can feel the squall growing, and He asks the Father to calm the wind and the waves by removing the cup. When there is no taking them away, He turns to his Father in trust, and willingly sails into the storm.

I wish I could simply calm the storm for my friends.  Honestly, most of what I prayed for in the middle of the night was for God to do just that.  Not every storm is clammed however; sometimes there is a greater purpose than I can imagine in the squall that stirs the wind and the waves into such violent action.  I am confident of this, however, there is One who can be trusted in the middle of every storm.  I also prayed that my friends would be able to see him clearly, even if the wind and the waves do not abate immediately.

What would it be to be able to possess this kind of vision in the middle of the storm?  What would it be for your eyes to adjust to the darkness,  have the capacity to be able to look through the wind driven spray, and see that you are not alone, that He is present and powerful and can be trusted? I imagine, especially as you are standing on the pitching deck of a boat which is being toss in the sea, it would be a beautiful and hopeful sight.  Maybe it would even be more beautiful than lying on your back in the midst of a calm sea under a star filled sky.

“Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” - Mark 4:41

He is "the bright morning star.” - Revelations 22:16 

"So we have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts. 2 Peter 1:19

Throwin' Sparklers

When I was five years old, my family went to the lake just outside of my home town to celebrate the 4^th of July.  We picked a spot near the swimmers beach and enjoyed the summer afternoon, all the wile anticipating nightfall and the fireworks that would be set off across the lake.  When the time came for the show we would watch each skyrocket climb high into the night sky and explode, coloring the heavens with a brilliant light which reflected off of the calm surface of the lake.  People oohed and awed.  It was the first fireworks show I remember seeing, and it was beautiful.

Being five, I was just old enough to have my own sparkler. I was not so old, however, that I could not believe if I threw it high enough into the air it would fill the night sky with a brilliant light, just like the fireworks we were watching.  I can still remember the disappointment when, on my first attempt, the sparkler failed to climb high into the sky and fell into the lake where it fizzled out.  I was not to be deterred.  Almost immediately after my mother put another freshly lit stick into my hands, I heaved it has hard as I could, only to see it once again fall into the lake without illuminating the sky.  

Only after the third sparkler hit the water did mother finally ask me what I was doing.   It was then that she explained the difference between a sparkler and a skyrocket.  At the ripe old age of five, I discovered the disheartening truth that they are not made of the same stuff.

Today, I was thinking about the fact that Jesus is the light of the world.  His presence colors the heavens with a brilliant light.  It is beautiful.

When I think about the stuff Jesus' light is made up of, things come to mind like: His willingness to yield His will and only do what he could see the Father doing; His capacity to look past the socially acceptable standards of his day and see the image of God in people;  His power to love the sick and broken, bring life and healing instead of condemnation and judgment;  His unwillingness to conform to the pattern of this world, instead introducing us to the one for which we were made; and His knack of pushing past the white washed exterior to the reality of the heart in order to extend the invitation of love, acceptance and forgiveness.  In the darkness of the world, these characteristics of Jesus, and many more, exploded on the scene in brilliant, life-giving color.  It is no wonder people were drawn to him.

When Jesus spoke to the people who would follow Him and who would eventually make up His church, He said to them, “You are the light of the world.”  They were to live lives that imaged His life, lives which climbed into the middle of the darkness and exploded on the scene with the same brilliant light that He displayed.

I have heard four stories in the last few day that make me ask the question, is the church is living up to what Jesus envisiones for us, or have we found ourselves simply throwing sparklers? 

When we find ourselves investing more time and energy to developing business models for our ministries than in developing the ability to listen and discern the Father’s will, it seems to me we are just throwing sparklers.

When we find ourselves more concerned with the appearance of a leader than his heart, we are just throwing sparklers.

When someone is caught in sin and we spend more time gossiping and judging than seeking to restore our brother, we are just throwing sparklers.

When we spend more time trying to mimic the world than we do manifesting the kingdom of God, we are throwing sparklers.

When we act like a dysfunctional family, sweeping the family secrets under the rug rather than walking the healing process of repentance and forgiveness, we are just throwing sparklers.

It is no wonder that world is not impressed with our message.  It is no wonder that they are not oohing and awing at the display of our Savior’s reflection in us.  The church, which is meant to be a breathtaking display of God’s grace and glory, is often nothing more than a short lived shower of sparks that fizzles out when it hit the water.

I never made it to a fourth sparkler on that warm 4^th of July evening in the summer of 1970.  Even when I was five years old, I was not satisfied with throwing sparklers.  I wanted to participate in something far more brilliant. 

Given this fact, having seen the brilliant image of the light of Christ, what in the world would cause me to ever settle for throwing sparklers now?  I am not so old that I cannot believe it is possible for a community of believers to come together, and be empowered by the Spirit to use their gifts to mature and build one another up until we are all made of the same stuff as Jesus.  It is still possible for me to imagine this community, becoming transformed into Christ’s image,  would be completely capable of being the light He envisions us becoming.

This is what I long for and it is why I am done throwing sparklers.