Don't Get Hung Up on Your Hang-Ups

Dear Faith Family, 

Nothing is more debilitating in life than getting hung up on your hang-ups. Knowing that we are not doing what we desire to do and feel we are supposed to be able to do, especially when we think we know why, is one of the most frustrating experiences as a human. It's like a professional athlete "getting in his own head" or a novice guitarist whose fingers can't seem to sync up with the cord in her mind, neither being able to accomplish what they want and know how to do, both fixated and frustrated by what's keeping them from what they desire. Both are stuck, one digressing from peak performance and the other in danger of never getting there. The frustration of getting hung up on our hang-up not only keeps us from flourishing but keeps us from maturing. 

What is true in physical ambitions is also true in our emotional, relational, and spiritual aspirations. Let's take our faith goals. How frequently have you felt the frustration of knowing what you are supposed to, and supposedly able to do, in your faith but are not doing? How often have you listed out what's keeping you from doing what you want to do and why, only to wind up back in the same spot not too far down the road?

The truth is, when we get hung up on why we are unable to do what we want and feel like we are supposed to do it, our normal human response is to try harder or try a different technique. Yet doing so rarely leads to anything other than giving up—maybe not forever, but at least for a while until we have the energy or impetus to try again. The cycle of fits and starts can be exhausting, especially in something as important to us as life with God. 

The stories in the Book of Acts often hit us with hang-ups, revealing what we want to do but are not doing and why. This is especially true of the stories in Acts 8 that Chaz began walking us through on Sunday. While maturing requires us to recognize what's holding us back, the stories of our faith don't encourage us to try harder or even try a different technique. Instead, over and over again, the foundational stories of our life with God inspire us to yield to the Spirit's leading, to get out of our own head and way, getting in by giving in. That's what Philip did, and what we are encouraged to do. 

So this week, I would like to invite you to do a few things:

• First, listen to Chaz's sermon & read his sermon notes for the "real" end of the sermon! 

• Then, re-read Acts 8 and make a note of your hang-ups revealed, especially regarding the "E-Word." Write them down on a scrap piece of paper. 

• Then, read your hang-ups to Jesus, handing them over to him before you tear up the paper and throw it away. 

• Finally, yield to the Spirit, committing to give in to His love and leading, praying (with the rest of your faith family): 

Everlasting Father,
you desire that all should come to you
through your Son Jesus Christ:
Inspire our witness to him, 
that all may know the power of his forgiveness
and the hope of his resurrection; 
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, 
one God, now and for ever. 
Amen.  

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

God of Trash

Dear Faith Family, 

"Wow, God must really care." That's how a back-alley conversation with a neighbor ended earlier this week. Our "alley neighbor" is Matt. Christine is his mom, who often helps her son with his continuous home projects. Most of my run-ins with Christine happen in the alley as we take out the trash, just as we did a few days ago.

We've had brief "faith" and "life" conversations over the years, little encouragements and comments about Jesus and the true, the good, and the beautiful. But nothing super "deep." So, when I walked out with two handfuls of trash and saw Christine closing her trash lid, I wasn't surprised to see her, but I was a bit surprised by her direct question: "Do you ever find yourself at the end, feeling lost? What do you do when it feels like too much?" 

Christine knew enough about me to know she could ask me such a question, though it certainly took courage to verbalize it. She also knew enough to think I might have something to offer her in response. She could not have known, however, that she asked her question on a day when I, too, was feeling at my end, lost, and overwhelmed.  

In the milliseconds between hearing Christine's question and offering some response, I could sense a tension arising. Out of habit, I wanted to offer her our faith's good and true practices: praying, remembering, and feeding on God's faithfulness. At the same time, I sensed a tug to not just say the good and true, but to reciprocate my neighbor's vulnerability and courage. 

Praise the Lord, I gave into the nudge to be open. Sharing a bit about my day (and heart) allowed me to share some of the practical practices from the day. Christine appreciated the practical—at least, she said she did. But my "counsel" wasn't what compelled Christine's concluding pronouncement. Christine recognized something in our interaction, not so much something specific from the conversation but simply in its happening.

"Look at what God's done," she said as we began to depart the alleyway, "he sent us both out here to the trash at the same moment on days like today to meet us. Wow, God must really care." 

Until that moment, I presumed I was the one giving in the conversation, giving witness and wisdom as a tool in the Spirit's work. Suddenly, I realized I was actually the recipient of the same grace that was meeting my neighbor. "Wow, God must really care," indeed.  

Christine's revelation shared with me would be a great subtitle for the Book of Acts. The stories we've read and will read reveal that God must really care, not just about a few here or there but all and everywhere. Care revealed not only in specifics of the conversations and interactions throughout, but in their happening: 

"The church...started out as something that happened,
and that experience of happening, of divine occurrence,
is the one thing that’s most evident in the book of Acts..."
(Eugene Peterson) 

I am praying that we will know more and more "that experience of happening, of divine occurrence" in the stories of our faith family's beginnings in Acts and in the stories of our daily lives. Whether next to trash cans or over the water cooler, at the dinner table or in the coffee shop, while in the middle of a mundane task or in an intentional conversation, may you share with others in the revelation: "Wow, God must really care." 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

What's in "the placement of" a name?

Dear Faith Family, 

Lord, you were favorable to your land;
you restored the fortunes of Jacob.
You forgave the iniquity of your people;
you covered all their sin.
You withdrew all your wrath;
you turned from your hot anger... 

Show us your steadfast love,
O Lord, and grant us your salvation.
Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,
for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints;
but let them not turn back to folly.

Surely his salvation is near to those who fear him,
that glory may dwell in our land.
(Psalm 85:1-3, 7-9) 

We read the words of Psalm 85 on Sunday morning to help us enter into one of the most disconcerting passages in our origin story: the death of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11). It is a troubling narrative where, ironically enough, for the first time in history, those bound together in communion and purpose by the Spirit of Jesus are called "church":

And great fear came upon the whole church... (Acts 5:11)

Why would the collective name we share to this day be evoked from this story? Why is a story of "fear," of reverence and awe, the place of our name rather than in the miraculous and courageous stories following Pentecost (Acts 3:1-4:22)? Why aren't we given the name at the pinnacle of passionate and powerful prayer (4:23-31) or sacrificial service (4:34-37)? How does this story confront and clarify the heart of what it means to live as "the church"? 

Those are the questions we attempted to answer together on Sunday. If you missed the Gathering, I'd recommend that you listen to the message here before jumping into conversations in Gospel Community this week. And in our discussions together, whether we all end up where I did, my prayer is that, with Psalm 85 echoing in our minds, this differentiating story might do what it did for the first gathered by Jesus: guard the true heart (the character) of church. 

May we, friends and freed in Jesus, be ones "filled with the Spirit" who not only worship together, but "submitting one to another in the fear of Christ" (Ephesians 5:18-21) so that "glory may dwell in our land" (Psalm 85:9). 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Beyond Desire

Dear Faith Family, 

"Wait and Pray." Spend much time around "church" or reading spiritual writings, and you're likely to hear (rather often) these three words: Wait and Pray. I am sure you've had them spoken to you...or maybe even spoken them to others?  

Whether given as counsel to the conflicted and confused or offered as an admonishment to the impetuous, this ubiquitous instruction has, as we learned on Sunday, its origin in our beginning, at "the birth of the church." 

And while eating with them,
Jesus ordered them not to depart from Jerusalem,
but to wait for the promise of the Father...
All these with one accord were
devoting themselves to prayer, together...
(Acts 1:4, 14) 

Unfortunately for some, like myself, we receive this foundational exhortation as if it is a recipe: Mix a little waiting with a dash of prayer, preferably in isolation from others. Let it bake for a bit, and then, voila, your desire dish is before you! 

While patient and persistent faith pays off (as Psalm 37:5-7 and Luke 18:1-8 testify), the repeated pattern of the Church is not so much about getting what we desire—even if we desire good—but being prepared to participate in something beyond what we could desire or even imagine. 

That's what we see happening as the end of waiting and praying, "When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place...And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance." (Acts 2:1,4). But what we notice in the rest of this story, as Willie James Jennings points out, and the repeated pattern throughout Acts, is that what is produced from waiting and praying is not necessarily what is desired; it's beyond it:  

"The Miracle of Pentecost is less in the hearing and much more in the speaking. Disciples speak in the mother tongues of others, not by their design but by the Spirit's desire...This is a joining, unprecedented, unanticipated, unwanted [as the following stories show], yet complete joining. Those gathered in prayer asked for power [what they imagined God could do]. They may have asked for the Holy Spirit to come [what they desired God to give], but they did not ask for this. [For God to take hold of their tongues, their voices, their minds, hearts, and bodies; to draw them into His desire and actions for others.] This is grace, untamed grace. It is the grace that replaces our fantasies of power over people [or circumstances] with God's fantasy for, desire for people." 

The stories of the Book of Acts reveal that active waiting and persistent praying with others is a pattern that prepares us to be drawn into God's desires and participate in God's actions for others: those we know and love, for those we barely see, and for those we'd rather not. Preparation, as we'll see, which invites us into more than we can ask or imagine if we are open to His love. God's love, says Jennings, "is love that cannot be tamed, or controlled, or planned, and [now] unleashed...[drives]...disciples forward into the world and [drives] a question into their lives: Where is the Holy Spirit taking us and into whose lives?"

So, I encourage you this week to start reading the acts of Jesus and the Holy Spirit with us, allowing the stories and patterns to open us to “untamed grace.” You can find the reading plan here. 

May we, as Dylan pointed out on Sunday, discover and experience in our active waiting and devoted prayer with one another, our life together looking more and more like Jesus' life. Which, after all, is the end of the church as we know it. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Simple, Not Easy...So We Pray

Dear Faith Family,  

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, 
that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. 

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
and for as many years as we have seen evil. 

Let your works be shown to your servants, 
and your glorious power to their children. 

Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, 
and establish the work of our hands upon us; 
yes, establish the work of our hands! 
(Psalm 90:14-17) 

The rather simple and basic to freedom rhythm of "Six days you shall labor...the seventh day is a Sabbath...you shall do no work" (Ex. 20:9-10) is not as easy as it reads.

Within this seven-day cycle, we experience, like the psalmist above, the affliction of daily labors subjected to the wear, tear, and frailty of existence not yet fully freed from the bondage to decay (Rom. 8:20-21). Those roles, responsibilities, and relationships through which we make a life can be, as we all know, a drain as much as (if not sometimes more than) a delight. Add to the affliction the often-reported misery and distress (i.e., "evil") experienced in our neighborhoods and across the globe, and no wonder this whole and holy rhythm is more naturally resisted than remembered. 

Perhaps the inevitable difficulties of this rescued rhythm are why the psalmist's honest plea for something equally prevalent-- "as many days...as many years"--is couched within what we've come to know and (Lord willing) believe as the reality to which we awake each morning: "Your glorious power" which is "Your steadfast love..." 

How do we keep in sync with the good of a resurrected life? As we've said over the last several weeks, we do so by resting and working through faith and hope within love. We won't escape the inevitable afflictions and evils, but we can know "the beauty of the Lord our God," experiencing the favor of God in our making life, good with Him. 

And so this morning, I pray for you, my friends, that what we've seen through faith and what empowers our endurance through hope, "the love of God...made manifest among us" (1 Jn. 4:9), would satisfy you in your daily labors, establishing the work of your hands, whatever you do today to make life, good. May you recognize and rest in "the beauty (favor) of the Lord our God upon" you this and every day. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Giving In

Dear Faith Family,  

I'm a chips and salsa guy, no matter the chip type or flavor, and I only have slight limitations on the salsa (Pico is not salsa!). Set before me whatever bag and bowl combo you want, and I'll be in until the end! Apparently, the draw is hereditary, passed down from father to son and now to daughter. Admittedly, Lily has yet to find an affection for salsa, but that girl can dominate a bag of chips! 

My love for this particular savory goodness is probably not rare nor harmful, and it can be responsibly satisfied around tables at Mariano's or our house on taco night. The problem I've discovered, especially as I've gotten older and my metabolism has slowed(!), is giving in to that anticipated satisfaction after everyone's gone to bed and doing so night after night until the bag and bottle are emptied. You wouldn't want anything to go to waste, right! 

"giving in to" inclinations, even surely satisfiable hankerings, as my waistline can attest, usually is not a good thing! We can all attest that whether we are "giving in to" cravings or fears, the pressure of internal or external expectations, the circumstances, attempts at control, despair, daydreams, urges, appetites, and the like, usually giving in does not lead to our flourishing. Usually. 

There is one disposition our scripture encourages us to give in to: HOPE. 

...in hope that the creation itself will be set
free from its bondage to corruption [what decays]
and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God
...For in this hope we were saved.
(Romans 8:21,24) 

This post-Easter life, which we've been meditating on these last six weeks, is a life lived in "this" revolutionizing and transforming "hope," for Easter morning brought salvation. Sin and death were judged, overcome, and defeated because Jesus died. Life forever, life with God, whole and holy, bright and beautiful, is breaking forth into every crevice and corner of despair and darkness because Jesus lives. 

As we said Sunday, working through hope, making a life through hope, means going about our daily relations, interactions, and responsibilities, giving in to the freedom and contentment of being bound only by God's love for us. We can give of ourselves wholeheartedly, "working from our souls," because we've been freed from the entanglements of fear, control, lust, and freed to give in to hope.

...all who did receive him, who believed in his name,
he gave the right to become children of God...
(John 1:12) 

Now imagine if we gave in to hope as easily as I give in to my inherited craving! Imagine what kind of life we could make, no matter the labors requiring our enduring energies. Imagine and consider with one another: 

• In what ways are you working in "bondage to corruption"…giving in to fear, despair, fantasy, control, success, affirmation, or anxiousness?

• What would look different at/in your work if you give in to the hope for which you were saved in your interactions and efforts?

• How can we encourage you to give in to hope—the draw of freedom in Jesus—this week?

May the God of hope [the source of the energy that revolutionizes and transforms today as it draws you into tomorrow] fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives [your life of faith], filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope! (Romans 15:13)            

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Abound In Hope

Dear Faith Family,  

But as for me,
I watch in hope for the LORD;
I wait for God my Savior;
my God will hear me.
(Micah 7:7)

Making life within the love of God, inevitably means much of life is made in waiting. That's the lesson Peter learned from the Law and Prophets, and most profoundly in the life and words of Jesus, of which he reminds the loved:

But do not overlook this one fact, beloved,
that with the Lord one day is a thousand years,
and a thousand years as one day.
The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise
as some count slowness,
but is patient toward you, on your account,
not wishing that any should perish,
but that all should reach repentance...
Therefore, beloved, since you are waiting...
be diligent to be found by him
without spot or blemish, and at peace.
(2 Peter 3:8-9, 14) 

We find ourselves today, and every day, in the loving patience of God, waiting, as Peter said, for the fullness of the promise of free and complete union with God (i.e., Rev. 19:6-8!). And yet, waiting is not an idle task, a passive posture. As Peter implies, waiting compels us to be diligent to "live at your best, in purity and peace," as one translation paraphrases.  And we call that compelling force amid our waiting "hope."

As Dylan explained to us on Sunday,

"Hope is powerful. 
Hope is not merely a wish, not a daydream, not simply a desire,
but a powerful force...at least important enough
for Paul to mention it alongside faith and love (1 Cor. 13:13).
Which is why Jurgen Moltmann...says 
“from first to last…Christianity is …hope,
forward-looking and forward-moving,
and therefore also
revolutionizing and transforming the present."

If hope is a magnetic force drawing us towards our future in the fullness of life with God by making life, good today, then similar to faith, hope begins and matures in our Sabbathing: 

"...resting in God’s completed work, living in God’s good rhythm is the sure path for us to find the fullness of hope. The path for us to see the past clearer, the present transformed, and Eden restored as our future. 

If we want the full power of hope, a hope grounded by God’s redemptive history, transforming the present through deeper union with Christ, moving us toward the future fulfillment of all creation, I can’t imagine a better place for us to flourish than in Sabbathing through hope."
(Dylan Fitzgerald)

I invite you to join me in following Dylan's recommendation and experience hope in your Sabbath this week. Here is a guide to help you!

May the God of hope
fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that
by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
(Romans 15:13)

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Entering Awarenss...To Live Out What We Know And Believe

Dear Faith Family,  

'Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come,
and his Bride has made herself ready;
it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen,
bright and pure'
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.
(Revelation 19:6-8)

What a wonderful vision at the end! Our lives united together to Christ in the eternal bond of covenanted love. A forever union in which our daily living is a preparation, a "making ourselves ready," in the free life "granted" us through the making right of Jesus' life, death, and life again. A life in which whatever we do to make a life can be "righteous." Whatever we do can be done in right/proper/congruent relation to God’s person and purposes and produce fruit/results of the same kind in our daily relations. What we see at the end is what Jesus told his apprenticing pilgrims on the night before his binding act of love,

Whoever abides [makes a life] in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit...by this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples...I appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide...
(John 15:5, 8,16) 

Stop for a moment and consider what Jesus affirms at his end and what the vision of Jesus at the end reaffirms. The explicit and imaged expectation of our Creator, Savior, and King is that making life good (i.e., righteous) with him is not only possible for us but is what our free-from-sin-and-death daily existing obliges us. 

As we discussed Sunday, and Abraham Heschel summarizes below, the stories of scripture and the words of Jesus teach us: 

"...not to feel accursed, to bear a sense of boundless guilt.
[Rather,] We are asked to feel elated,
bred to meet the tasks that never end...
every person is obliged to feel that the world was created for their sake.
Humanity is not the measure of all things
but the means by which to accomplish all tasks...
[So] You can’t let yourself go;
get into harness, carry the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven...
bear loads of responsibility….abhor self-complacency…
enjoy freedom of choice…
[You’ve] been given life and death, good and evil,
and [you’re] urged to choose, to discriminate...
to act...to will, to love."

So why do we have difficulty relating to God, others, circumstances, and ourselves in "righteous" ways? Why does knowing and believing what is right not always translate into relating rightly? How can we live more consistently "righteous"? 

We'll ask and answer those questions together this Sunday afternoon through Entering Awareness. 

Entering Awareness is a conversational tool designed to help us uncover the anxious (disquieted) beliefs and behaviors that undermine our day-to-day relationships and responsibilities and begin to learn how to live through peace. Over the next month, we'll learn what it is and how to use it together over the next month. 

So, if, like me, you could use some help living like you desire to live by faith, then join Entering Awareness this Sunday @ noon and all of May. For details on how—whether you're local or not—email me this week. 

May we know, believe, and continue to cloth ourselves in "righteous deeds for,

Jesus has now reconciled you in his body of flesh by his death, to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel...
(Colossians 1:22-23)

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Working Through Faith

Dear Faith Family,  

And every way in which you
make, manufacture, and construct your life,
—in words and actions—
do it all in loyalty and submission to the Lord Jesus
…with a singular focus of heart,
in awe and wonder at the presence of the Lord.
Whatever you do,
work from the soul as for the Lord…
(Colossians 3:17, 22-23)

The above might not be the translation of Colossians 3 you memorized in Bible Drill. Still, as we unpacked last year, this chapter in Paul's letter to the "raised with Christ" (3:1) has much to say about our daily labors post-resurrection Sunday.

Work, says the apostle, is whatever we do in our efforts to make a life within intimate, responsible, and economic relationships (3:18-4:1). The work that each of us has been specially fashioned for (see Eph. 2:10 & Ps. 139:13-16) includes more than the labors that make us a living. Encompassed in Paul's exhortation are all our daily exchanges and interactions, obligations, commitments, and to-do lists. "And whatever you do, in or deed" (3:17), not just some things at particular times, but "Whatever you do," and whenever you do it, "work heartily as the Lord" (3:23). 

But how? How do we work from the soul and not merely to survive, pass the time, or meet some standard of duty or success? 

Well, as we discussed together this Sunday, we have to work through faith. 

When thinking about "work," and especially "good work," it's almost natural for our minds to focus on our particular words and actions on any given day, wondering, "Did I say the right things in the right way?" and "Did I do the right things, in the right way?" 

While Paul certainly encourages us to consider our "whatever we dos," he knows--and has spent the first two chapters of the letter making the case-- the wonder and holiness of life on this side of Easter is that whatever we do is done with "Christ in you" (1:27).

Good work is the product of being at work with God. Or, as Paul put it, “fearing the Lord” (3:22) being in awe and wonder in the presence of the Lord, responsive to Christ in you, Christ with you. And this is where faith comes in. "Faith," says Frederick Buechner, "is to respond to what we see..." And what do we see on this side of Easter Sunday? In Jesus, you are re-created and made competent to join God in the very good of making life. 

He is the image of the invisible God,
the firstborn of all creation.
For by him all things were created,
in heaven and on earth...
and in him all things hold together...
And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind,
doing evil deeds [not good work!],
he has now reconciled
in his body of flesh by his death,
in order to present you holy
and blameless
and above reproach before him,
if indeed you continue in the faith,
stable and steadfast,
not shifting from the hope of the gospel
...which has been proclaimed
in all creation under heaven...
(Colossians 1:15-17, 21-23)

Re-read those words. Can you see who you are with in your work today, and that is why/how you can do good work...whatever you "do"? 

Paraphrasing Buechner as a prayer for you and me: May we...

“work through faith...
responding to what we see
...by trying to live up to it and toward it
through all the wonderful and terrible things
…by looking to see it again and see it better." 

Love you, faith family. God bless!

Making Room For Sabbath To Enter

Dear Faith Family,  

Life after Easter is a return—a resurrection into the original, whole, and holy cadence of Sabbath into Work into Sabbath into Work into Sabbath…and so on and so forth. The Church historically calls this season “Ordinary Time.” And as we know, it’s precisely in the ordinary rhythms and relationships that we see and participate in the Kingdom come and our Father’s will done on earth as it is in heaven.

As we were reminded on Sunday, this return to ordinary begins not in our work, but in God’s finished work and our resting with Him through faith.

The events of Easter weekend, the suffering, betrayal, trial, crucifixion, burial, and resurrection gave witness to the essential reality of our existence as humans: we live only and truly in God’s love for us. Paraphrasing John’s words to us from the conclusion of last week’s note,

In this the love of God was made manifest (real)…
that the Son of God died for us…
so that through Him we might live...
making our home in love…
as God makes His home in us.

So how do we make ourselves at home in this love, at home with God? Well, first and foremost, through faith-filled rest.

Remember, to Sabbath is simply to cease our efforts to be with God and others as we delight in His finished efforts. While we have for millennia added to, subtracted from, built up, and torn down the particulars of “sabbathing,” the simple nature of the day made for us (Mark 2:27-28) remains, and requires our faith to enter in.

Faith, as we said, is more than an affirmation of belief in a true statement. More, but not less. As we discussed on Sunday:

“Faith is an attitude,
the joy of living a life in which God has a stake…”
(Abraham Heschel)

As an attitude, it is faith that shapes the manner in which we Sabbath; how and why we do and do not do certain things on this “special day.” In this way, faith is action. More specifically: seeing and responding to what we see. Echoing Hebrews 11:1-2, Frederick Buechner writes,

“Faith is a way of looking
at what there is to be seen in the world
and in ourselves
and hoping, trusting, believing
against all evidence to the contrary
that beneath the surface…
there is vastly more…
To have faith is to respond to what we see…”

Sabbathing through faith is responding by rest to the love we see in Jesus’ life given for us.

If we can learn to rest through faith, to “respond to what we see,” in the love of God for us in Jesus, “breathing it in like air and growing strong on it,” we can be ones who don’t try and “get Sabbath right” (or don’t Sabbath because we are afraid we won’t get it right?) or use Sabbath as a means to our own ends (as just another attempt at control). Instead, we can delight in the reality of the truth we have come to know and believe through Jesus: that we exist now, this day, and forever within the love of God for us.

So…

CONSIDER THIS:

It’s hard to cease striving if we cannot see where we are. Can you see God's love for you today in your story, in ordinary places, and clearly in Jesus?

If you can’t, no need to go any further. Instead, go back to where we restart, to the finished work of Jesus, to God’s love for you in Jesus’ life, given up and raised again. Read and reflect on John 17-20 until you can see the truth of your existence.

If you can see where you are, how are you responding to what you see? How are you resting through faith within God’s love? What’s keeping you from seeing it again and seeing it better? What might you do or not do on a day of rest with God and others to “live up to…and toward” what you see?

If you need some ideas, check out the resources by clicking the image above. And don’t be afraid to talk it out with one another. After all, the Sabbath in scripture is always done with a community!

May our Father’s ever-restful grace, allow us to enter His Sabbath rest as His Sabbath rest enters into us.

Love you, faith family. God bless!

Staying A While...In The Awe

Dear Faith Family,  

Monday afforded us a surreal experience. For a few moments, "the world was wrong." The sun, gone, but not set. The sky blue, while in the dark. Stars and planets shining, in the daytime. Birds and squirrels quieted (at least in our neighborhood) while crickets sang a midafternoon song.  Words cannot do justice to the oddity and wonder of those brief minutes of total eclipse. Nor can I adequately describe how amazingly the world was put right at just a sliver of the sun's return.

Abruptly, we went from dusk to midday—no gradual dawning. The deep blue instantaneously transitioned to bright blue. Immediately, distant stars and planets returned to their invisible orbit. Crickets quieted in the blink of an eye, and the "normal" bustle in the trees returned to normal. And just like that, it was over. In truth, there was still nearly an hour before the view of the sun would be wholly unobstructed by the moon. Yet, if you're like me, the "return to right" meant a return to the day's labors. 

It seems that Annie Dillard's experience of the 1979 total eclipse concluded, like many of ours, 

"One turns at last even from glory itself with a sigh of relief.
From the depths of mystery, even from the heights of splendor,
we bounce back and hurry for the latitudes of home." 

But what if we didn't rush back? What if, instead of hurrying back from the glory, mystery, and splendor we had witnessed, we took a moment to stay, to dwell in the wonder of what we had seen? What if we allowed the awe of the extraordinary to shape everything we do to make a life in the ordinary? 

That's the question we asked on Sunday. While what happened during Monday's eclipse was amazing, it wasn't the most "end-of-the-world-like" happenings during daytime darkness (check out Matthew 27:45-54!). Nor was Monday's instantaneous "return to right" the most dazzling (check out Matthew 28:1-10!). How "fortunate" for us that Monday's experience was in such close proximity to Easter weekend's remembering the Light of the world (John 8:12) covered for a moment in the darkness of death only to instantly return to right the world as the resurrection and Life (John 11:25).

Staying awhile in the wonder of what we've seen and experienced in Easter so that we might make life good will be our collective encouragement over the next six weeks. If you missed Sunday, I'd encourage you to listen to the sermon here to catch up on the conversation and to ground our shared rhythms and practices during our extended gaze. 

For today, may the words of John the Beloved allow us to stay longer in the glory, mystery, and splendor of the Son, dead and alive forevermore. 

In this the love of God was made manifest among us,
that God sent his only Son into the world,
so that we might live through him.
In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loves us
and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sin…
So we have come to know and to believe
the love that God has for us.
God is love,
and whoever abides in love abides in God,
and God abides in them.
(1 John 4:9-10, 16)

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Getting the Words Out

Dear Faith Family,  

Hallelujah, as we learned on Easter Sunday, is a universal reflex, an essentially human response that bursts from our lips when our ears hear and eyes see the goodness of life manifest. Hallelujah, “Praise God,” life is good! 

Whether as a reaction to a favorable prognosis, a response to provision received, flowing from relief at a trial's end, spilling forth in rejoicing at an expectation met, or as an exhaled near whisper in the rest of remembering what has been and will be again; Hallelujah springs forth when we can see the goodness in life fully, even if only in a glance. In this way, Hallelujah is an expression of revelation, revealing the essential nature of reality: the goodness of God. 

Perhaps that’s why our New Testament saves the word Hallelujah until the full view of the end is in clear sight. The four uses of the word all make their presence heard in Revelation 19 at "the marriage supper of the Lamb." As ubiquitous as the word may be, and as thoroughly as it has traversed every known language while keeping its Hebrew origin, hallelujah is saved as a response to marriage, the union of Jesus and His Church, a vision of unhindered communion in community and covenant. Hallelujah, Praise God, for life is God with us captured at the ceremony of love, the celebration marking true love, testifying to love's work, witnessing love shared, and remembering love's commitment. A vision of life with God and others as it should be, because it is. Praise God, life is indeed, and at its essence, good!

While the expression of hallelujah is universal, everyone, even the godless, experience, at some point, moments of hallelujah, the goodness of life; the truth is, if we want to live in the goodness of life as our daily reality, another universal word is required: Amen, “Yes.”

Amen is our yes to life with God and all His Yes in covenant and communion demands. We say Amen, says Rabbi Heschel, “to keep alive the higher Yes…to teach our minds to understand the true demand [of life with God] and teach our conscience to be present," to God’s Yes:

For all the promises of God find their Yes in Jesus.
That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen
to God for his glory.
And it is God who establishes us with you in Christ…
given us his Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee.
(2 Corinthians 1:20-22)

 
 
Hallelujah and Amen. These words bring our daily living into the reality of the goodness of life, life in union with God. So, how do we get these words into our regular vocabulary, spilling from our souls into our work and relationships? We pray!

Well, more specifically, we pray the Psalms. The Psalms, as we mentioned on the final Sunday of Lent, is where we learn to respond to the reality of life; life as fundamentally good because God is fundamental to life.

The psalms are where these words are repeated amid every imaginable human experience and circumstance. Nothing is left out. No pain or joy. Not prosperity nor persecution. Not faith nor doubt. No praise nor petition. No loss nor anticipation. Everything, internal and external, is voiced. And in that voicing, over and over again, we find the words Hallelujah and Amen. Here, we are taught to pray in the reality (sometimes despite the immediate evidence) that we live today in the goodness of life, life with God, hallelujah(!). So we conclude not with a wishful “please”  but a responsive “Amen”…Yes to life with God today, tomorrow, and always.

So, faith family, in full view of the goodness of life, of the Life given for us and to us in Jesus, I invite you to start this new “Christian” “Jesus-Joined” year (remember, Easter marks our beginning!) and Do What Jesus Did: make praying the psalms daily our school and response.

You can find a printable schedule to guide you here, as well as other resources to aid you in committing to this school of prayer here.

Once you pick which schedule you’ll follow, share that with your Gospel Community, DNA group, spiritual companions, spouse, or even a co-worker. Invite them to pray it with you, or at least ask you about life through these words. 

May Hallelujah and Amen find their way into our hearts, up to our lips, and into our lives today and tomorrow, until forever is all we see.

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Through the Cross to Easter

Dear Faith Family,  

In the most ordinary places—those daily settings, roles, relationships, and responsibilities through which we make a life good—is where our faith matures, bears fruit that lasts, and encounters its most significant opposition. At least that’s the story Jesus’ letter to the faith family of Thyatira tells (Rev. 2:18-29).

As we discussed Sunday, to the most “ordinary” city, a good but not overly significant city, to people whose opposition to faith was as mundane as their city was normal, Jesus wrote his most lengthy and magnificent letter.

Perhaps the ordinariness of their faith and faults required an extraordinary exhortation in order for them to recognize what was at stake, to see the significance of their daily work and the significant danger they were working with.

I wonder if we (me at least) are not unlike the Thyatiran Christians. If we, like they, are committed to living a life in love through faith, service, and hope in the ordinary places of life and yet are married to a vision of a good life (an image, idea, or means) that is a different mixture than Jesus’ foundation. An unfit union played out in our vocation, community, and faith that leaves us fragile. Oh, not a first. At first, it seems to strengthen and beautify the life we long for, but eventually, the union leads to a confrontation with the simplicity of the Way, Truth, and Life we received in Jesus. A vision that has us chasing deeper things rather than continuing to hold fast to the sufficiency and sureness of the heritage and work that has been given to us.  

The work Jesus gives us (those ordinary means of making a life good, i.e., a “Kingdom” life) always squeeze us a bit, limiting our options but not to deprive, rather so that we might flourish in our union with Him (see another revelation of Jesus through John in John 15:1-11). Yet, the opposition we feel within, the anxiety of faith, conflict of calling, uncertainty if we are “doing it right” that at times marks all our daily labors, does not have its source in what we’ve received, but what vision we are married to.

There is a profound significance to the ordinary “royal” work (as we discussed Sunday) which we follow Jesus in, receiving from Him as our heritage to continue. Significance in both its transformative power and the opposition that it faces. An opposition that, if we are passive, ambivalent, or unaware, will divide us within ourselves and from our King. And yet, an opposition that, as we’ve learned in these letters, cannot stand in the light of Jesus’ revelation. So, will we conquer? Will we be attentive in our maturing, recognizing the visions (ideas, images, means) that draw our loyalty elsewhere? Will we actively resist and carry on in the simple, royal work we did at first: living within love through faith, service, and hope?

Those are the questions our final Letter of Lent encourages us to ask of Jesus in these last days of Lent’s journey. So let us, once more, open our hearts and lives to our good Father’s examination so that we might be known and shown the Way, Truth, and Life through the cross to an Easter eternity today. The guide below is meant to help us along the way.

Love you, faith family. God bless.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

THROUGH THE CROSS TO EASTER

PREPARATION:
Set aside ten to twenty minutes for this practice. Find a quiet spot and consider having a pen and journal to record your thoughts and conversation with our heavenly Father.
 
INSTRUCTION:

1. Read the following question three times, letting it sink into your consciousness. Pay attention to how it makes you feel (physically, emotionally, etc.) and what pictures, people, or practices pop into your mind. Don’t linger on them, just note them.

What vision (idea, image, means) of a good life am I married to,

“helping” me make a life (i.e., work)?

1. Now read Psalm 139:23-24a, pausing where instructed:

Search me, O God, and know my heart!

[Slowly repeat the prayer, then pause for three deep breaths.]
 
Examine me and know my disquieted thoughts

[Let your mind drift back to your reflections on the opening question, pause for three deep breaths, then pray the invitation again and continue through the psalm.]
 
See if there be any grievous way (unfit union) in me

[Pause for three deep breaths, pray the words again and let the Spirit show you what He sees. Give yourself 2-3 minutes to listen and write down what the Spirit lays upon your heart and mind, then continue through the psalm.]
 
Lead me in the way ancient and everlasting.

[Pause for three deep breaths, pray the words again and let the Spirit show you the way forward. Give yourself 2-3 minutes to listen and write down what the Spirit lays upon your heart and mind.
Pause again for three deep breaths, then pray the final line one last time as a vow of your loyalty to your life with God.]

On This Day...Believe Again for Life

Dear Faith Family,  

Eleven years ago, on this day, we had our first official "Gathering" as Christ City Church. It was, like this year, an oddly early Easter Sunday, which, as a side note, might explain why we are a bit odd?! Anyway, on that day, a handful of people who had been complete strangers up to a few weeks prior came together in celebration of the life we shared in Jesus' life, committing to share our daily living with Him by simply holding fast to the words and way of Jesus in our time and place. I'm quite proud to say that over a decade later, we are still at it; praise the Lord! 

It's probably no surprise that The Letters of Lent have me reflecting on what Jesus would say to our faith family on this marked day. I think Jesus would affirm our faithfulness to life together in His words and ways, steadfastness to the simplicity of life orbiting Him. Yet, similar to "the church in Pergamum," amid our resoluteness, there remains in me and us a seductive voice saying:

"Are Jesus' words and way really enough? All you need for daily provision, to live a whole and holy life? Enough to become all you long to be?" 

Today, on our anniversary and amid our Lenten journey, we have the opportunity to discern the deception of that voice, open our ears to what the Spirit says to Christ City Church, and believe again for life today that, indeed, Jesus gives us all we need to participate and prosper in His kingdom as witnesses in His work through our unique lives. For, as Jesus said once, He says to us again, 

To the one who conquers
I will give some of the hidden manna,
and I will give him a white stone,
with a new name written on the stone
that no one knows except the one who receives it. 
(Revelation 2:17)

I am grateful for the life we share and for the Word that cuts out the decay and cultivates life full and forever. May we continue to hold fast and solely to what He gives today, again tomorrow, and for all time. To Him be the glory in Christ City Church throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. 

Love you, faith family! God bless.

The Place Where Faith Leads

Dear Faith Family,  

One thing the Lenten road and rhythms remind us is that the way of Jesus is not always the choice path. Every life winds through trials, pains, and losses, yet there is an acute squeezing, what our scriptures term "tribulation," that accompanies a life of faith lived. To choose to live a life loyal to the person and purposes of Jesus compresses, narrows down at least some of the options for how we go about our daily roles and responsibilities. I think you know this intuitively, even if, like me, you at times push back on the tightening.

While not novel, such revelation does hit us rather squarely, especially in Jesus' words to the faith-filled family of Smyrna. Here, in Revelation 2:8-11, Jesus speaks to a people whose choice to live by faith, loyal to Jesus' person and his purposes despite the opposition and options, has them at their end, their lives (physically, economically, emotionally, socially, spiritually) all but squeezed out. No wonder Jesus has to exhort them to "not fear" (v. 10). Wouldn't you be fearful in such a place? Afraid that you have nothing more to be squeezed out, afraid that you won't make it through the next tribulation, afraid that you made the wrong choice in faith, afraid that life is more like a long death than an abundant forever. 

It's here, at their (our) most desperate and vulnerable, we want Jesus to comfort us, to tell us we'll be okay, and more so, to make the squeezing stop. And he does! It's just not in the way we're expecting. Listen to what Jesus says, 

Do not fear what you are about to suffer.
Behold the devil is about to throw some of you into prison,
that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation.
Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.
(Revelation 2:10)

As we mentioned on Sunday, Jesus' comfort arrives through acknowledgment that there is more squeezing to come, though it is not forever or without purpose. What comes out of this tribulation is what is proven (tested) to be already true: that they are faithful. All they have to do, is let their faith lead to death, to the end of what they fear, so they might experience the "blessed-ness" of what is already His: the crown of life. After all, isn't this what Jesus has always said to be the true way to life: 

Truly, truly I say to you, whoever hears my words and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.
(John 5:24)

Here, at the midpoint of Lent's journey, we've arrived at a revelation that requires a response before continuing. Today, in the quiet of morning coffee and reflection or in conversation with gospel community, consider these questions in light of the words of Jesus: 

• Will I let faith lead me to death? 

• What fears need to die, to be passed through in order to live (richly) with Jesus? 

As you do, remember my friends, that...

By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus...
We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise...
even when we’re hemmed in with troubles,
because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next.
(Romans 5:1-4)

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Driven Faith

Dear Faith Family,  

Who do you look to as the example of faithfulness? What pastor or person, organization, or church is the gold standard for living out a life of faith? It's okay; I know you have one (or several), and our faith family is probably not it!   

Whether through publications, promotions, podcasts, or participation, we all have those we look to and want to be like. In the first centuries of our faith, the standard was the church of Ephesus. 

In the spiritual epicenter of the empire, in a city flourishing through the economics of religious goods and services, the women and men of Ephesus somehow managed to discern how to remain distinctly Jesus' people. Boasting leaders like Priscilla and Aquila, Timothy, and later John the Beloved, it is no wonder that Paul's epistle to this faith family is the only one of his letters not addressing some significant failing or struggle. And so, even today, the Ephesians continue to provide a model faith for many churches, including ours. Still, as we were reminded on Sunday, even worthy models are not the model. 

Lent, across all the traditions, is a journey of examination. A chosen season to open our hearts and lives to the pangs and glories of revelation. The light of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection revealing the depth of our neediness and His love deeper still. And, being prepared as we are, the examination does more than reveal; it invites us to respond in kind, to live the life we've received. 

While our various rhythms and resources are each meant to aid us in the examination, the Letters of Lent, the words of Jesus to His church, provide the most direct revelation for our church. It is here, in Revelation 2:1-7, that we come to see that loyalty to Jesus is more than dedication to distinction, though not less. Life through His life, life lived whole and holy, is a life that shares His drive: love. Love for the lowly, the lost, and even those losing out because they think they are neither. Love that does not compromise conviction but does calibrate convictions and is distinct for its absurd compassion. 

In our first Letter of Lent, Jesus reveals that loyalty to Him is, yes, faithfulness to what is true, but just as important, life with Him is loyalty to the Way who is Truth: a life of love because we are loved. To the church of Ephesus, and to our faith family, Jesus says, 

‘Remember then from what you have fallen,
repent and do the works you did at first
…To the one who conquers,
I will grant to eat of the tree of life,
which is in the paradise of God.’
(Revelation 2:4,7)

So this week, amid the Lenten journey, let us consider what the Revelation reveals and the response that Jesus' light invites. Listen to or read the sermon if you missed Sunday (or need a refresher). Then consider: 

• Can you remember your first love, what it was like to be loved and show the love of God at first?

• Are your actions of faith a loyal (in kind) response to that love, or driven by something else?

• How might Jesus be inviting you to return to that love today, in this journey of Lent?

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Consider Your Calculations

Dear Faith Family,  

We have officially entered the most "religious" season on planet Earth. Conservative estimates claim that over the next stretch of weeks, some two and a half billion persons will participate in a religious activity with a particular focus, many of those partaking in more than one practice individually and collectively. While Christmas may be the most global and secularized "Christian" holiday, Easter really is all ours. 

But what is religion for? Why does more than a third of humanity take part in the demonstrations of faith and declarations of worship? Is it, as it has popularly become and to which even our faith family falls prey at times, to satisfy a need we have? Are our acts and activities means for getting what we need: community, communion, affection, affirmation, distinction, purpose, and future? Are our deep and authentic needs met, truly the end which our religious exercises are constructed? 

I'd be willing to bet the vast majority of us participating in the Lenten journey or just attending an Easter service are doing so because we feel like we need to, that doing so will satisfy a need somehow. Yet religion (our acts, activities, and attitudes of faith and worship), as it unfolds in our scriptures, is not a way of satisfying our needs, though ironically, it does sanctify them. Rather, the religion of our sacred stories, says Abraham Heschel, "is an answer to the question: Who needs humanity? It is an awareness of being needed, of humanity being a need of God." 

Think about it: our stories begin not with humanity's need for God but God's need to create and commune. Why else would God be so patient and persistent throughout our faith's history not to abandon but to protect, chase after, and put up with all the self-made plans and pious pouting of people? And how else can you explain the absurdity of God to die on behalf of His creation? Surely, such actions speak volumes to what God desires; even, we might say, needs. 

No, religion, especially in this season, makes no sense, doesn't add up, if it is first a means to meet our needs. So, before you (we) go any further,  let's be sure to consider the calculations of our efforts. And remember that religion (acts, activities, and attitudes of faith and worship) makes total sense as a response to the One who gives Himself for our needs.

I hope that's the perspective our Lenten preparations, especially this past Sunday's story, have given us as we join the global church in the journey to Easter morning. May our activities of faith and acts of worship be a response and not a means, especially as we remember where the road ahead leads. 

The LORD is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The LORD is good to all,
and his mercy is over all that he has made.
(Psalm 145:8-9)

Love you, faith family! God bless.

What a Day!

Dear Faith Family,  

Happy Valentine's Day!...I mean,  Ash Wednesday!... I mean Lent!... Awh!... There is way too much happening today, and I'm not sure happy!" is the appropriate adjective for it all!

Because we have an early Easter this year (March 31st) and are in a Leap Year, somewhat ironically, this day of love is also the day of mourning. For much of the global Church, today marks the first day of this journey of bright sadness, which is known as Ash Wednesday.

On this day, the Church gathers to consecrate themselves for the Lenten pilgrimage that begins through the imposing of ashes. The ashes are a reminder that from dust we have our origin, and from dust, we will return, but by an absurd and gracious gift of Jesus' life, we are given life full and forever. Ashes may be our end, but they are not the end.

Now that I'm thinking about it, perhaps today's unique convergence is not so ironic. 

While there are a variety of theories as to the origin of Valentine's Day, nearly all of them include the sacrifice of one person's life for another as an act of love, whether out of romantic affection or something more. And, as we've said throughout our preparation for this day and the days ahead, we know where we are going is to the place of love's greatest personification, a life given so we might live beyond the sacrifice. 

So, I invite you today into all that this day offers: celebrate love, remember love's sacrifice, and open your heart and life for the return home by joining with saints around the world, praying the "Litany of Penitence" As we pray, let us share in our need for God's grace and receive grace upon grace in Jesus, the love of His life given and our life lived in His love for us. 

Pray with and as the Church on this day of love and mourning that leads us into the arms of a true life in Love (1 John 4:9-19):

Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and to one another, 
and to the whole communion of saints
in heaven and on earth, 
that we have sinned by our own fault 
in thought, word, and deed; 
by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. 

We have not loved you with our whole heart, nor mind, nor strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven. 
Have mercy on us, gracious Father. 

We have been deaf to your call to serve, as Jesus served us. We have not been true to the mind of Christ. We have grieved your Holy Spirit. 
Have mercy on us, compassionate Father. 

We confess to you, Father, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives. 
We confess to you, humble Father. 

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation of other people, 
We confess to you, self-giving Father. 

Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those more fortunate than ourselves, 
We confess to you, generous Father. 

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and our dishonesty in daily life and work, 
We confess to you, just Father. 

Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us, 
We confess to you, patient Father. 

We turn to you, Father, and away from the wrongs we have done: acknowledging our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty, 
We hold fast to you, always-present Father. 

Acknowledging false judgments, uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and prejudice and contempt toward those who are different from us, 
We turn to you, ever-chasing Father. 

Acknowledging our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of concern for those who come after us, 
We hold fast to you, never-changing Father.

Restore us, good Father, and let your anger depart from us; 
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great. 

Bring to maturity the fruit of your salvation, 
That we may show forth your glory in the world. 

By the cross and passion of your Son our King and Friend, 
Bring us with all your saints into the complete joy of his resurrection. 

Amen. 

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Wiggling Out of Grace

Dear Faith Family,  

"Two men went up to the temple to pray,
one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector." 

Can you finish the story? I am sure most of us can. Still, if you need a refresher, you can find out what happens in Luke 18:9-14. 

Despite the parable's context, this is not a story about prayer. As we discovered on Sunday, this is not a story depicting a person praying arrogantly and blamed for their attitudes, while another prays humbly and is praised for so doing. Though that is the standard assumption. 

Yet, as more than a few commenters and pastors note, and Kenneth Bailey sums up, “Too often the unconscious [and unfortunately stereotypical religious] response [to our standard assumption] becomes, Thank God we’re not like that Pharisee!" And so quickly, and ironically, we become the offenders, guilty of our interpretation!  

Perhaps that's why Jesus frames the story the way he does. Jesus anticipates that we'll be as surprised at what proceeds from our hearts as the Pharisee was at what poured out of his. Yet He hopes our surprise will compel us to take advantage of the moment, just as the tax collector did, rather than wiggle our way out of grace. 

Remember what we discussed on Sunday, this story takes place at the twice daily atonement service. At dawn, a new day's beginning, and at three o'clock, in the middle of the heat of life, a visual and visceral way was made for God's people to receive righteousness, to be restored so they might live rightly with God, one another, animals and earth. A service where the saving act, an innocent lamb's life given, was because they needed it to be done to live. The only expectation was to allow the elaborate production to be for them at their moment of need, and respond in prayer: be drawn up (exalted) into communion with One who makes them righteous. 

While the parable is not about prayer, it has given our faith heritage perhaps the most repeated prayer over the last several millennia: 

"God, make atonement for me, a sinner!" 

The "Jesus Prayer," as it became known, and often translated as "God, have mercy on me, a sinner!" became the prayer for moments of communion with God. It has been a centering prayer amid meditation on scripture and examining a day. It has been a plea from under the weight of relationships unraveling. Yet most often, and most aptly, it has been a recollected prayer amid our daily tasks and interactions, prayed at nine o'clock and three o'clock, inviting us to receive again and live at this moment in response to the grace we so desperately need. 

While we no longer have a morning and mid-afternoon atoning service, we do have notification reminders and the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, in which we boast of God's righteousness received. So, faith family, let's set our alarm and "go up to the temple to pray" together, taking advantage of the sacrificial grace of this moment, God's righteousness for us. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Missing The Point...And More

Dear Faith Family,  

I don't know about you, but I am a master at missing the point. While I'd like to think I am an astute listener, the truth is, especially in relational dialogue, I am often guilty of focusing on the wrong detail or, sadly, not focusing at all! Don't believe me? Just ask Deedra or the twins! 

Whether my mind is busy elsewhere, instinctively pre-filling details, or searching for affirmation of my thoughts, if I am not careful and curious, it is unfortunately not uncommon for me to miss not only the point of someone's story (usually someone I care about) but also the opportunity for communion, for connection that the storyteller is inviting me into.

It doesn't take much, a dazed look perhaps or an uninvited suggestion to put an end to the conversation. But the worst and most effective way to sever the connection arrives in the awkward phrasing of a follow-up question or comment, proving that I wasn't really listening. Kind of like when Jesus' disciples said, "Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field." (Matt. 13:36). 

It's easy to miss the missed point in the disciples' phrasing because of the unfortunate section heading added in most of our Bibles, "The Parable of the Weeds." But if you read Matthew 13:24-30 for yourself (which I'd encourage you to do!), you quickly discover that the story is not primarily about the weeds, though they have a prominent place. Rather, the focus is on how the man who sowed good seeds reacts to the weeds to ensure the health and harvest of the wheat, the fruit of the good seed.

Still, the disciples heard a story about weeds only. So, rather than expounding the intimate patience and precision of the sower of good and his workers amid the persistent presence of evil, the disciples get what one pastor, in summarizing almost every biblical scholar's angst with the conversation, refers to as "an out-of-whack [allegory] about the problem of evil alone" (see Matt. 13:37-43). While the disciples got an explanation, at least in part (i.e., good wins, evil loses), the communion of conversation ended, "He who has ears, let him hear." (v. 43)

I'm sure you can think of conversations with people like me and Jesus' disciples, those of us prone to miss the point and kill the conversation. Perhaps you can think of conversations when you were like us? (If I could insert a winking smiley face emoji here, I would!) 

But here is my point: I've found that what is true in my daily dialogues is just as true in my relationship with the words of Jesus. If I am not careful--i.e., attentive and fully present--and curious--i.e., open and engaged--I'll miss the point and the opportunity for a deeper connection. Luckily for us, Jesus modeled the patience and precision of the sower of good seeds by telling more stories to those following him (see Matt. 13:44-50). It turns out he really doesn't want us to miss the point, or the opportunity for something more. 

So, this week, as you reflect on the parables already told and prepare for our final story in this year's Kingdom Epiphanies, don't be like me! Listen carefully, with curiosity, and take advantage of the opportunity through scripture and the Spirit for communion.

Grace and peace many times over to you as you deepen in your experience with God and Jesus, our Master. 
(2 Peter 1:2)

Love you, faith family! God bless.