The Christmas 'Home Stretch'!

Dear Faith Family,

It's hard to believe that we are just ten short days away from the morning that has garnered so much of our attention, efforts, and even anxiousness over the last month! In just under 240 hours (depending on when you read this), most will be up and in the middle of a half-groggy, frantic tearing into the treasures built up under our trees. All this before we splurge on sweets family staples as we move from one gathering to the next. The thought of it all rises in me a mixture of elation and angst!

While much of life seems too swift, it is even more true of the final sprint to Christmas morn. As in every good story and song, the pace quickens, building to the crescendo, which is why I want to invite you to join me in an Advent practice we started a few years ago.  A habit meant to help us do what we've been doing all month: slow down and step into the depth of the flow of these last days before Christmas, rather than to be swept up by them. 

In the first centuries after Christ's resurrection, our faith forerunners developed a custom of praying seven great prayers to call afresh on Jesus to "come." These prayers are prayed without using our customary designations for Christ; instead, they address Jesus by titles found in the Old Testament, especially in Isaiah: "O Wisdom!" "O Root of Jesse!" "O Emmanuel!" etc.

They called these prayers the "O Antiphones," for they are sung as much as prayed. Seven brief songs calling us into the quickening anticipation of our salvation needed and provided. Malcome Guite explains their design and aid for you and me this way,

"Each antiphone begins with the invocation 'O' and then calls on Christ, although never by name. The mysterious titles and emblems given him from the pages of the Old Testament touch our deepest needs and intuitions; then each antiphon prays the great Advent verb, Veni, 'Come!'

There is, I think, both wisdom and humility in this strange abstention from the name of Christ in a Christian prayer. Of course, these prayers are composed AD...but in a sense, Advent itself is always BC! The whole purpose of Advent is to be for a moment fully and consciously Before Christ...Whoever compiled these prayers was able, imaginatively, to write 'BC,' perhaps saying to themselves: 'If I hadn't heard of Christ, and didn't know the name of Jesus, I would still long for a savior. I would still need someone to come. Who would I need? I would need a gift of Wisdom, I would need a Light, a King, a Root, a Key, a Flame.' And poring over the pages of the Old Testament, they would find all these things promised in the coming of Christ. By calling on Christ using each of these seven several gifts and prophecies, we learn afresh the meaning of a perhaps too familiar name.

It might be a good Advent exercise, and paradoxically an aid to sharing the faith, if for a season we didn't rush in our conversation to refer to the known name, the predigested knowledge, the formulae of our faith, but waited alongside our non-Christian neighbors, who are, of course, living 'BC.'  We should perhaps count ourselves among the people who walk in darkness but look for a marvelous light." 


The O Antiphones officially begin on Friday (17th) and will carry us through the 23rd. We'll post them in our Collective Prayers and send out a push reminder each day via the app

But in the day or so between, take a moment and consider Guite's exhortation, to ponder afresh "Who do you need to come this Christmas?" and find in Jesus' arrival your need met. 

Love you, faith family! Merry Christmas, and God bless. 

A Fresh Sounding

Dear Faith Family,

Have you ever noticed how even the most profound proclamations lose their edge with familiarity? Hear something enough times, and it is likely to resonate as a benign cliche rather than a reverberating crescendo. While this tendency is true for many statements in our faith, I think it rings loudest for the angel's proclamation that first noel.

Imagine a cold clear night, stars filling the expanse, the galaxy's milky glow declaring how spacious our inhabitance truly is, no matter how small we feel. Suddenly, the heavenly bodies that a moment before were specks of sparkling sand on a distant shore are now pulsating lights close enough to feel their brilliance across your face. The universe and all its limitless possibilities collapsed into a chorus declaring,

"Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and
on earth, peace
among humanity

with whom He is pleased!
"

Of all the many words that could describe the revelatory transformation of God with us, heaven and earth reunited, it is the word peace that filled the skies our first Christmas night. Peace, a word that not only describes the absence or end of conflict between parties, but even more so, depicts wholeness and harmony of relation. A proclamation that friction and dissent are revolutionized into flourishing.

What the angelic choir declares is this. At the birth of Jesus, we can no longer say with a sliver of accuracy that God is against us. All that is true, really true, is that God is for us, that peace has come. Now that is a profound proclamation!

This week, as we continue in Advent together, let the words of the angelic choir resound like the cymbal crash for which they are meant to forever be. Set aside some time to ponder the proclamation and respond.

Maybe like Mary, you'll respond with the humility, gratitude, and courage needed to let peace be birthed through your life. Maybe you'll respond like Zechariah and find that you need some extended time of quiet to allow the doubt to sink into belief. Or perhaps you will respond like the shepherds whose universe was expanded and made concrete at the angel's song, and go, seek, and find the proclamation's truth, that God is for you, truly and wholly in Jesus.


Love you, faith family! God bless.

Getting What You Expect

Dear Faith Family,


Sunday officially sparked the beginning of the Advent season! It's here once more, a special time of the year in which the anticipation of something wonderful and new fills our hearts, catches our sight, echoes in our ears, and swims in our dreams. It is truly one of my favorite seasons, and I don't think I'm alone in that sentiment!

One of the things that makes Advent so remarkable, at least to me, is the assured expectation it engenders. Having gone through the cycle (more than!) a few times, I know that everything which makes this time of year special--traditions and songs, liturgy and lights, meals with family and friends, giving and receiving, etc.--is sure to be experienced.

Now, there may be a surprise or two waiting under a tree somewhere, and, admittedly, in some years, the special things are made harder through loss or fraying relations. Nevertheless, the certainty of what has been and what will be, ensures the satisfaction of anticipation.

And what is true of this season, is also true of our lives with God. What has been--Christ has come!--and what will be--Christ will come again!--ensures Christ is with us in this and every season. And all the special things of Advent draw our attention to the wonderful and ever-new reality of life with Jesus. For Advent "calls us to a posture of alertness...watchful and ready...for the signs of hope...waiting for the light of Christ," as Bobby Gross reminds us.

Like no other time of year, we are attentive to the truth that Jesus has come, born of woman, swaddled under the expanse of angels singing. And that he will return, as the Lamb slain and risen, King of kings, arriving once more to complete what he started in us and the world. All the while calling attention to the truth that he has never once left us, and we can expect that he never will.

So, this Advent, let us join together in asking our Father to see in the signs of the season the certainty of his presence and the assurance of his working in us and in the world.

May we be watchful and ready to hear him speak to us through the words of others and to speak through us to them. Open to him revealing himself in the face of someone in need and caring for us in the kindness of friends. Expectant for him to move us when we gather to worship and stir us through song and silence. Anticipating the Spirit's still small voice throughout another cycle of this special season.

As Paul said, let us "Be up and awake to what God is doing! He's putting the finishing touches on the salvation work he began when we first believed." (Rom. 13:12)

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Silent But Not Without Sound

Dear Faith Family,

What are you listening to right now? As you read this email, is there a song playing on Spotify? How about a podcast streaming in the background as you multitask? Maybe a child asking to play or wanting lunch? Perhaps you hear your voice as you read my words because you're dialed in, focused. Maybe you hear the voice of your supervisor saying, "No personal emails while on the clock," or your spouse reminding you of something to pick up on your way home. Or maybe something or someone else?

The point is, there are always voices inside and out speaking at or to us. These voices directly or indirectly shape what we think and how we live--both well and poorly. And it is this immersion in words that requires the psalmist to cultivate a quiet heart (Ps. 131). A heart not void of voices, but one attuned to the voice, the words and Word which are life today and life forever.

Through diligent, attentive, nurturing (i.e., cultivation), our hearts are calmed and quieted. That's why the habitual rhythm of silence and solitude has been a part of our faith heritage for thousands of years. Each of us needs regular times to withdraw from the sounds of life to be in the presence of Life. But remember, our silence and solitude is not primarily a disconnection from voices and words, but an attunement to the voice and words that are the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

The practice below is meant to help us quiet our hearts so that we can hear. Hear the voice of the One who leads us into life each day, giving his life so that we might live abundantly.

I encourage you this week to set aside some time to be silent and alone with God. Maybe take one of your regularly scheduled "quiet times," and instead of a Devo or study, join in this old habit. You can find more like it here and here.

May our feet be firmly rooted in our Father's world and hearts quiet enough to hear the voice of the good shepherd leading, guiding, caring, and dying for us. Grateful that it is enough that God is God and we are his!

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Instructions to guide you in the prayerful practice of silence and solitude meditating on John 10:1-11


Preparation: 

IMPORTANT: Look over the context and read these instructions in their entirety before you begin. Read the text from a paper Bible, not your phone. Try to make sure you have at least 25 minutes of uninterrupted time for this practice. Be realistic and honest about how much space and stamina you have for the quiet components. Some of us will welcome stillness and silence, but most of us will likely struggle to get through even 3-5 minutes of silence—and that is okay! Arrange whatever time you think is reasonable (suggested times are provided), and set a timer; it helps. Get into a comfortable position but not too comfortable, so you don’t fall asleep.            


Context:

In these verses, Jesus claims to be the entrance into life with God, the door (v. 7,9) to salvation, to an abundant life of pasture. But he is more than the entry; he is the “good shepherd” (v. 11), the watchful caregiver practicing loving, sacrificial husbandry so that the sheep who “follow him” and “know his voice” might “have life and have it abundantly.”

These statements come amid a much longer conversation ignited by Jesus’ opening the eyes of a man born blind on the Sabbath (9:1-41). Some of the religious leaders, challenged by the sign of Jesus, are rebuked by the simple faith of the once blind man, and so he is cast out of the synagogue. It is in this setting that Jesus declares, “I am the door...I am the good shepherd” Those who culturally seem to stand guard at the entrance into life with God, whose voices and words shape the lives of those who Jesus is speaking to, are proven to be but “thieves and robbers.”

The door to salvation, to an abundant life of pasture, is Jesus himself. We enter into the kingdom pasture through Jesus, and find a lavish life under his watchful leadership and at the sound of his voice. 


Practice:

READ

With this background, read John 10:1-11.

Now that you are familiar with the context and words close your eyes and take three deep breaths. As you breathe in, pray “His voice… and as you breathe out, pray, “…I hear." Ask God to give you an openness to hear whatever the Spirit wishes to bring to you today.

If (when!) your thoughts wander in the stillness, breathe the centering prayer to quiet your mind. Focus on your breaths as you envision breathing in God’s presence.  

Now, reread the passage slowly, immersing yourself in the encounter with Jesus. Remember that those who lived through this experience felt very much as you would if you had been in their place. As you read, notice:

  • Where you find yourself in the passage: as a sheep under the charge of a good shepherd, or under the care(lessness) of a hired hand, a young sheep trying to learn the shepherd's voice, a religious leader trying to care for people, a person under the guidance of religious leaders, or even an apathetic by-standard observing the scene?

Whomever you connect with, do not choose this yourself; let the Spirit bring it to you.

Sit quietly for 1 minute after reading and then...

REFLECT

As you reflect on the passage, consider one of the following:

  • Who you found yourself to be in the passage. How does it feel to be this person (or animal!)

  • What does the voice of the good shepherd sound like? How does it differ from the other voices bouncing around in your heart, your mind, or throughout the day?

  • Where is his voice calling you into life, abundant? And in what ways are the other voices trying to steal, kill, and destroy?


Give yourself 5-7 minutes to ponder all this.
Then, ask God, “How does this connect with my life today? What do I need to know or be or do?” And then....


RESPOND

Read the passage in John 10 one last time, preparing yourself for what you want to say to God about what you think the Spirit might have spoken to you or what came to you.

Pray whatever you need to pray. You might thank God for something or ask God for something. Give yourself 1-2 minutes to respond. And then...


REST

Do as you are led for the last 3 minutes. You may wish to wait quietly on God—to simply be with Jesus. You may want to pay attention to God, pondering especially: how did Jesus seem in the passage to the Pharisees and religious leaders, to those under their care, to you? What about Jesus makes you want to worship him, or at least be with him? Sit in the companionship of Jesus—the door and the good shepherd who came that you may have life and have it abundantly.

It's Not About What You Know

Dear Faith Family,

Knowing is a big deal. Don't you think? Aren't we continuously after knowledge of some sort? Whether we're seeking out knowledge within our particular vocation (including parenting!) or knowledge about the world's happenings (or other people's little worlds!). Or whether we're clarifying knowledge of ourselves and the future or even knowledge of God, we spend a lot of our time and energy searching and processing knowledge.

While seeking knowledge is a good thing, a worthwhile pursuit, as our Proverbs tell us*, there is a particular knowledge that is foundational to all our knowing. What do you think that knowledge is?

If you are like me, your first response might be "The knowledge of God." Am I right? Isn't that the essential knowledge, the knowledge that leads to a life lived well and forever? Well, sort of.

In his famed book, "Knowing God," theologian and pastor J.I. Packer wrote,

"What matters supremely, therefore,
is not, in the last analysis, the fact that I know God,
but the larger fact which underlies it--
the fact that he knows me."



Ironically, but most beneficial to our everyday and eternal life is that the knowledge we need most is not one we possess but receive. Not the knowledge we have, but the knowledge God has...of us.

Stop for a moment and consider Packer's wisdom, that what "matters supremely" for your life, how your life is lived and where your life is going, is not the fact that you know, but that you are known.

What does God know about you? Well, as our psalm of examen reveals, everything! But the real question is, how does feel about you? Or, as David Benner puts it, "What is God's knowing of you? Well, as Jesus' life reveals, love!

"For this is how God loved the world, that he gave his only Son..." (John 316)

"In this the love of God is made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him...So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us." (1 John 4:9, 16)



God's knowledge of us is not sentimental. It is a complete, unhidden knowledge that does not overlook our brokenness, failings, and mixed affections. Yet, it is a knowledge that knows us on the other side of healing, forgiveness, and wholeness. He knows who we truly are, ones created and crafted by Him, fractured in our reflection, and loved to completion.

This week, as those God knows thoroughly and whom God loves to wholeness, let us continue the meditation we began on Sunday. I encourage you to set aside at least two times this week to be quiet and alone with our Father, listening to the invitation of God's knowledge and love in Jesus,

"Come to me, you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,
for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

(Matthew 11:28-30)


Being rooted and grounded in love, may we have the strength to comprehend with all the saints the breadth and length and height and depth, really know, of the love of Jesus that surpasses knowledge. Love you, faith family! God bless.


*See Proverbs 1:5, 4:7, 15:14, 16:16, 18:15, 19:2, 24:5...for starters!

What To Do With The Final Charge

Dear Faith Family,

If I am honest, Peter's final charge to his faith family and ours to "be diligent to be found by Jesus without spot or blemish" feels impossible and somewhat intimidating. I don't know about you, but the perfection implied in this imperative makes me uneasy, in no small way, because I am very much aware of my imperfection! As my wife and kids, family and friends, and Gospel Community can attest, I have plenty of spots and blemishes on my record!

Still, there is something in Peter's exhortation that inspires me. Something in his directive compels me to want to live up to what he assumes all those "who have obtained a faith of equal standing...by the righteousness of...Jesus" can be. It's this stirring that overwhelms my intimidation and has kept me pressing deeper into Peter's words and Jesus' life over the years. I believe you and I share a motivation for the faith and life of faith that Peter describes for us.

If that's so, let me encourage you in something I've come to see in Peter's final charge.

The phrase "without spot or blemish" is a reference to the sacrificial system in the ancient world (both Jewish and Greek). The expectation was that only a perfect or "pure" sacrifice, usually an animal, would be acceptable for the offering. The purity had to do with the quality of the animal being offered, but not its behavior. Instead, "To be pure [the animal offered] must be completely itself as possible, with no admixture of something else and with no deficiencies."*

The image is not of an animal that does everything correctly but is of an animal that is truly, wholly, what it is. So, not a sheep that never runs away from the shepherd, for example, but a sheep that is a sheep of singular origin, one breed or species without birth defects.

What Peter is exhorting us to live into then, is not a life without mistakes or missteps, but is a life free from being anything we are not truly. Or, to say it another way, to be only who God says we are, who and for what he has formed us to be and do.

Peter's already affirmed the singular origin of our existence. He said that through the person, power, and promises of Jesus, we've been born anew as partakers in the divine nature. As new creatures, we are without deformity or deficiency since we're escaping from the corruption in the world (1:3-4). And while we clearly have growing up to do in this new life (1:5-8), Peter also said those whose life is in Jesus have already had our former messiness cleaned up (1:9). So what he leaves us with is the encouragement to be completely and only who we truly are in Jesus. How freeing is that?!


To think that God's desire is for you to be you, truly, wholly, completely, fully. You whom he formed and fashioned in delight and in his image. You whom he loves, saves, and reforms in delight and in the likeness of His Son.

Don't get me wrong, behavior matters. After all, living well is what Peter is after, not "sloppy living" (1 Peter 1:17). Yet, he knows that to live a life in action and attitude that is pleasing to God has to be a life that is pure. Not a life without mistakes and missteps, but a life wholly in harmony with who He says we are and what He has made us for. Not a life lived in response to who our culture, family history, the enemy, or even our emotions say that we are, but a life lived in response to the giver of our life. A life that looks a lot like the one Jesus lived.

Because we believe what Peter assumes of us, and for us, we're people who really get to know who our Father is and who he says we are, and what he says we are made for. People who get to know who Jesus is and how he lives. A faith family pursuing an ever-deepening knowledge of God and Jesus through scripture and the Spirit. A knowledge, says Peter, that leads to the abundance of "grace and peace" in and through our lives.

But information about God is only one part. As good as it is for us to know God, we have to learn that God knows us. To "be diligent" in becoming ourselves most completely as possible, we need to be willing to let our Father and Jesus catechize us. Allowing the Spirit to show us the ways we are being someone we are not. One of the most treasured tools throughout church history for knowing ourselves as God knows us is the Prayer of Examen.

In light of where we've come through Peter's letters, and with his final charge rining in our hearts, perhaps this is a spiritual practice we should be putting to use. Will you join me in doing our due diligence to be found by Jesus as completely ourselves as possible? If so, let's start here and work our way together through these practices over the coming month.

May grace and peace be multiplied to you and us, in the ever-deepening knowledge of our Father and of Jesus whom we follow.

Love you, faith family! God bless.



*Jermone Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 248.

A Reminder to Remember

Dear Faith Family,

Each day we awake into the merciful and powerfully persistent patience of our Father. That's what Peter says as he looks over God's action in history and still today.

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.
(2 Peter 3:9)

Every morning we find ourselves awaken by the alarm or kids or dog is a day in which God is acting on behalf of all that is his, against all that is evil, so that all might flourish as he desires.

Peter's reminder sounds a lot like an often quoted Old Testament verse,

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases.
Because of the steadfast love of the LORD, we are not cut off;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning...


Ironically enough, this familiar, hope-giving refrain comes not at the height of Israel's prestige nor from the lips of a king in his palace, but from the heart of a rejected prophet at the point where everything seems lost.

Jeremiah's words appear in Lamentations chapter 3:22-23 and are preceded by his confession that his soul cannot relinquish the bitter pain of his current afflictions and wanderings (3:19-20). It is here, in the despair of unmet expectations, unfilled longings of faith, that Jeremiah does what Peter encourages his faith family to do: remember.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope...
(Lamentations 3:21)

Wherever your soul finds itself today, whether in a place like Jeremiah or someplace more preferred...remember. Remember that the air you breathe today is God's powerfully persistent and sufficient mercies. And join with God's beloved throughout history and the world in letting your soul say, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will hope in him." (3:24).


Love you, faith family! God bless.

Spotting Forgeries

Dear Faith Family,


Over the last several Sundays, through our time in Peter's second letter, we've talked a lot about false stories and teachers and the destructive and successful schools of thought which slyly slip into our lives even as we follow Jesus. Their destructiveness is subtle, for these have the appearance of what we are after--freedom--but in daily living, they keep us entangled in a cycle of fruitless, ineffective, and misery-ridden faith. Their deceptiveness is successful, for they offer reasonable models of how life works and how life with God plays out. But, as Peter and Proverbs 16:25 encourage us, we better take a closer look at these word-sculpted forgeries.

"There’s a way that looks harmless enough, reasonable enough;
look again—it is the ways of death
."


While Peter's proverbial charge has hit home for us, the question remains, how do we root out these forgeries of the way?

Peter's answer throughout the letter is that the way you detect a fake is by an intimate and increasing familiarity with the original.

It's sort of like detecting art imposters. While it is helpful to know how the imitators work, their techniques, tendencies, and the like, the best way to uncover a forgery is by comparison to the true work of art.

It's the same with these obstacles of fruitful, effective, and joyous faith. The more familiar we become with Jesus, the easier it is to spot a forgery, seeing past the similarities and noticing the (often subtle) differences.

Peter knows we are sure to encounter forgeries in the stories within our culture and teachers within our family of faith; we can't escape the proliferation of these counterfeit models (2:1-3). But we are escaping the corrupted cycles of life and faith, which keep us trapped (1:4).

Peter doesn't want us to be "carried away with the error" of these fraudulent ways. And so he concludes his letter reminding us that the way to detect a fake is by intimate and increasing familiarity with the original,

"...beloved, knowing [the inevitability of forgeries] beforehand...grow in the grace and knowledge of our Master and Savior Jesus Christ."

So, let's heed Peter's proverbial exhortation to take another look at the seemingly reasonable ways of life, even life with Jesus, being espoused around us. But, let's also be sure to spend even more time looking at Jesus, getting to know his life, teachings, promises, and power. Maybe consider starting here this week.

Love you, faith family! God bless.

A Noisy Night

Dear Faith Family,

This past weekend, Lily and I had the chance to get out into the woods of East Texas with a group of her classmates and their dads. By God's grace, we avoided rain and significant injury--for the most part!--and ended up having a truly beautiful and enjoyable time together in the wild wooded pines.

Thank you to all who made it possible for Lily and me to be a part of this camping trip! Especially those who took on the Gathering responsibilities. Thank you, Chaz, for preaching, Kyler for leading us in worship through song, Amberley for making sure our kiddos were cared for, Steven for running the slides, and the many more who helped in various ways. Because of you, we could step out of the city and into what felt like a different world.

Among the many things we noticed in this different world was how noisy it was, especially at night. And I'm not talking about the incredible decibels produced by eighteen fourth-grade girls let loose in the woods! No, it wasn't our noisiness we noticed, but the sounds of life that caught our attention.

There were no street lights, car noises, homes, or even RVs where we stayed. Just the stars and darkened forest, and a medley of sounds cascading through the trees, buzzing, chirping, croaking, and rustling all around us.

On our second evening, sitting at the campfire, we were all talking about these nightly noises. Some of us were surprised by the volume, others nervous because of the unknown, and a few were intrigued enough to try and shine a light on the orchestra. But none of us considered the nocturnal sounds of the night as something for us to join. That is until we thought about what Jesus said about the birds and the lilies.

Remember the story in Matthew 6? Jesus speaking with his friends and followers along the wild mountainside, removed from the noises of daily life, had them look around and see the freedom of living things. He pointed out how the birds never worried about a meal, nor were the flowers anxious for their covering; instead, both were free to go about their living because God knew them, formed them, loved them, and ensured they had the best of what they needed. Then Jesus reminded his friends and followers that what is true of the wild things is even more true for each of them. That God knows them, formed them, loves them, and they will discover that all "these things" of daily living "will be added to you" as they go about seeking a life with Him.

Laying in our tents that last night, our minds wondered as our ears filled; we were earwitness to the symphony of freedom in God's love and care. Each of the creatures sang out as they went about their living without worry about what might be or grief of what could have been, but free as God's beloved creation. And as we listened, we were invited to join in the melody, to express to God, as his creatures, all the noise in our hearts and minds as we go about living--anxieties, cares, praises, petitions, and the like--and to rest in the peace of wild things. And rest well we did, even in a tent!

What Lily and I got to experience this weekend isn't reserved for the woods. Even in our city, there is no shortage of wild creatures rooming, crawling, and buzzing about, as well as green and colorful things growing all around. So, this week, take notice of them. Watch them scurry about or shimmer in the sun, and when, in the night, the noise of daily living fills your head and heart, join in the song of the cicadas--or barking dog or chirping crickets! Add to the symphony and rest in the grace that permeates the world in which God who knows you, formed you, loves you, and provides you all that you need in Jesus.

And, if technology or roads or neighbor make it hard to hear, just use your imagination*! Find a memory of a warm summer's night or cool autumn's dusk when you listened to the sounds of life in the woods like Lily and I did. Now, lay down there, and find that you are free in life with God and God for you.

Love you, faith family! Thank you again for this past weekend. God bless!

*If you need some help imagining or just want encouragement to get into the wild more often, I recommend this poem from Wendell Berry. I've got a copy hanging up in my house for just that very purpose!

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grown in m
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life
and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the Wood Drake
rests in his beauty on the water,
and the Great Heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives
with forethought of grief.

I come into the presence of still water,
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
Waiting with their light.

For a time
I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.

Getting to Know...God

Dear Faith Family,

I believe we'd all say that knowing who God really is--his character, temperament, and tendencies--is important. I'd even dare to say that most of us would consider knowing who God really is as the most important thing since everything else we think and all we do springs from what we know of who God is and what he wants for and from us.

Peter sure considers such knowledge essential. He refers to it four times in the first eight verses. Each time this knowledge of who God really is, is the soil and sustenance from which a full and fruitful life emerges.

But here's what has been proven across human history: we have a hard time seeing clearly who God really is. Whether out of ignorance or arrogance, overcome by anxieties or overwhelmed by prosperity, whatever the reason, we humans (especially us religious humans) are especially good at getting God wrong! Not always and not in every way, but there is enough evidence in our Scriptures--as well as our own lives--that arguing the point is, well, pointless.

So what do we do then? Well, two things.

First, we regularly gather to break the bread and pour the wine(or juice in our case!). In doing so, we are reminded that what the writer of Hebrews sings is true, "Jesus is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature and he upholds the universe by the word of his power..." (1:3). The world we live in is governed, past-present-and-future upheld, by One who gives. He gives generously, joyously, sacrificially, wholly, and thoroughly so that we might have all that is his. Pretty amazing!

And while you'd think that is all that we need, a regular remembrance of God with us and for us in the life, death, and life again of Jesus--the fact is we need one more thing. We tell and retell the stories Jesus told about who God really is. We call these parables, and they get to the heart of our tendency to miss or misunderstand God.

Stories penetrate the defenses that arise when someone shares an argument or idea (whether familiar or aberrant). Through story, before we know it, we find ourselves immersed in the world of the author/teller and begin seeing things from their perspective. Perhaps that's why we have more of Jesus' stories than his sermons?

Regardless, getting to know who God really is, requires we remember Jesus' life and tell his stories. We'll have a chance to do the former on Sunday (and maybe in-between!), and I encourage you to do the latter through one of my favorite stories: The Gambler (Luke 16:1-8). This story, perhaps more than any other, helps me see that there is still room to grow in my knowledge of who God really is...and just how wonderful of a fact that is!

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Praying for "the secret"

Dear Faith Family,

I hope this email finds you well and rested after an extended weekend! Know that I am praying for grace and peace to be multiplied to you today, wherever and in whatever you find yourself.

I know there is much going on in our little faith family. Grand and joyous things! New opportunities and new seasons dawning refreshed aspirations for the future. There are also difficult things: loss, sickness, uncertainty in our lives and the lives of those dearest to us. We have, rather consistently it seems, the chance to "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn" (Rom. 12:15), simultaneously.

It is the simultaneous expectation of this life together that is most difficult for us. At least it is for me. If I could separate the two, schedule them perhaps into specific blocks of focus, I think I might be able to manage. But life never seems to allow for such division. There is always both rejoicing and mourning, sometimes by the same person!

I'm sure you have experienced this duality yourself? So how do we not find ourselves emotionally, mentally, and spiritually frayed and fatigued by the oscillating? To not be pulled apart by the opposing force of these apparent opposites, which are called to enter because that is how life is really experienced, requires strength beyond our own. And it is the discovery of this not-us-but-in-us strength that is, in the words of the apostle Paul, "the secret to facing plenty and hunger," learning "how to be brought low...and...to abound." (Phil. 4:12).

The funny thing about this secret, though sadly funny, is that it is not so much a secret these days, but instead, a cliche often advertised on T-shirts or mugs or even the 'eye-black' of athletes. I know you know you know it! The not-so-secret-secret is the now-famous Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through him who strengths me."

While the over-production and occasional misappropriation of Pau's "learned secret" mean it may fall flat on ears amid the push and pull of daily life with others, the amazing truth of something-in-us-but-not-us never dulls. Through Jesus, "Christ in you" (Col. 1:27), you have all that you need, and not just for ourselves but also one another.

Our fellow apprentice, the apostle Peter, affirms this not-so-secret-secret, contending, that "Jesus' divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness...so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pet. 1:3-4). Because you can face the complex reality of life--for yourself and for others--through Jesus, Peter writes his second letter. He longs for, and assumes, that we can experience the fruitful effectiveness of Christ in us (2 Pet. 1:8).

I pray Peter's acquired desire would come to fruition in you and for us. I love you, faith family.

"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."
(Rom. 15:13)

Open to the Normal

Dear Faith Family,

Each Sunday for the past five Sundays, we've responded to a time of focused attention on Jesus through song and scripture by sharing a meal. Each week extending our worship in the enjoyment of food and friendship.

It will be strange not to do so again this Sunday! But that's kind of the point. What we have experienced over this past month is, I believe, meant to be the norm: sharing meals in the company of friends...including Jesus!

What we observed in the stories of Jesus "eating and drinking" with any and everyone was nothing less than the welcome of God. God at the table with us, demonstrating his compassion for us over a simple supper. Jesus' "mission" to seek and save, free and restore, and see his Father's kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven, culminating around this common space and daily necessity.

It's quite genius, really. Jesus choosing to embody God's kingdom in such an ordinary space and activity meant we'd naturally find ourselves with the opportunity to do the same. After all, everyone has to eat! And, if, like Jesus, we are open to the welcome of the Father, willing to open our lives/tables to others, and prayerfully aware of their openness as well, we too might experience the abundance in such simplicity.

My prayer for us, faith family, is that not regularly sharing a meal with friends...and Jesus, would continue to feel strange! And that we (and our neighbors) would find in our openness to this normal practice, the transforming nearness of God here, right now.

Love you, faith family! God bless.


P.S.
While we don't have the resources for a weekly meal for the entire faith family, we will get back into the habit of sharing a collective lunch at least once a month! The next will be either the 19th or 26th of this month. More details as we get closer!

One Thing Necessary

Dear Faith Family,

Showing hospitality can be overwhelming. Especially the holistic "love of stranger" conveyed in our scriptures and brought to life in the story of that famous Samaritan's heart and actions on Jericho's road. Certainly, welcoming others into home and relationship is exacting, demanding the use of our skills, attention, and resources.

Perhaps that's why the story has carried so much power over the centuries--within and outside of our faith. Jesus' parable pulls no punches. He portrays the cost of true neighborliness, of a genuine love of stranger. The good Samaritan's image has become an ideal that insists on modeling. To offer anything less is to be a loveless passer-by. And none of us wants to be accused of such self-absorption.

Maybe that is why Martha is "anxious and troubled about many things" (Lk. 10:41). Like many of us, she doesn't want to fall short of the ideal. She's counted the cost, actually outlined all the many things required to truly welcome others into home and life, and she is "over-occupied" with the good work. So "distracted by much serving" is Martha, that she is frustrated when those closest to her are not responding with the same effort: "my sister has left me to serve alone...Tell her then [Jesus] to help me." (Lk. 10:40).

Martha's story, which directly follows the Samaritan's, is especially timely for our cultural moment. A constant wrestle for the past eighteen months has been the cost of "love of stranger." Asking ourselves and one another, "how can we be good neighbors?" Truly desiring to know, "How can we truly welcome others amid physical risks and social/political division?" The cost is continuously being counted, the details of service (seemingly daily) are weighed and measured.

It's no wonder that, like Martha, many of us--if we are honest--are "anxious and troubled about many things." And no wonder we are easily aggravated by those closest to us not falling in step with our expectations. Can you identify with Martha? Her genuine desire to "love her neighbor as herself," her striving to ask, answer, and act upon that ideal, and her annoyance when the effort isolates. I know I certainly can.

Because I can easily see myself and ethos of today in Martha and her story, I am especially grateful for Jesus' response. 

"Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but only one thing is necessary.
(Luke 10:41-42a) 

Jesus is not scolding Martha; rather, he is compassionately pointing out what is true in her and for her. 

Jesus knows her, what she is after, and the struggles she is experiencing in her efforts to live out her good desires. He also knows what she needs to see them fulfilled. She needs the "one thing" necessary, the "good portion" her sister had chosen. And what did Mary chose? To abide. To stop serving and sit at the feet of Jesus and receive what he offers. 

What is true of Martha is true of you and me at this moment. Jesus sees us, and in many ways, is compassionately pointing out what is true in us and for us. He knows our desire and our struggles. And, he knows the one thing we need to get what we are after.

Martha's story concludes--as many of the Jesus stories do--without a resolution. Will Martha chose the "good portion"? Will she abide, rest herself at Jesus' feet and receive what he offers? To do so would require her to stop her "much serving" for a while, to give up her vision of the ideal. Will she do it? Will we? 

Praying that you and I will choose "the good portion, which will not be taken away" (Lk. 10:42b). That we will be willing to stop, to rest, and to receive. And, that we will discover that such abiding is the source of what we desire (Jn. 15:1-17). 

Love you, faith family! May our "love of stranger" be in the joy and peace of Jesus.  God bless. 

Life's Aim

Dear Faith Family,


I can't seem to get away from our spiritual companion's challenge!

When our family makes the annual trek to Colorado, I purposely leave "study" material in Texas. The point of the trip is to be together as a family in a space where we cannot help but be aware of and enjoy the goodness and grandeur of God--in one another and in his creation. While the return week's sermon might suffer for this (I apologize in advance!), my soul returns refreshed, even if it grieves for the cooler temps!

While "work" reading remains on my desk, I nevertheless take a volume or two every year that aid the intended reflection and enjoyment that alpine vistas evoke. A good book with a warm cup of coffee on a chilly mountain morning is a holy experience!

A few days into the trip, I noticed that every other page of my chosen titles contained an editorial marking. A scribbled comment or reference to Peter's letters in my handwriting! Neither composition had anything directly to say about this spiritual friend's commentary on life in Jesus. There was no explicit mention of Jesus' vocal, fumbling, courageous, and humbled disciple. Yet, there he was, Peter, continuing to challenge me in the sacred space of our family vacation.

Among the various insights and connections jotted and deepened in the margins, one stood out profusely: holiness. Peter used the word at least nine times in his first letter, most memorably in his opening chapter:

"As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who has called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct..." 
(1 Peter 1:14-15) 


Admittedly, Peter's charge to holiness has been a matter of--usually, but not always positive--tension for me throughout my life of faith. I hear his words often when confronted by interior or exterior forces to make a choice. A moral choice to do or not to do something, as well as practical choices for how to use time, energy, and resources. I don't always make the "right" choice, but our spiritual companion's exhortation is rarely absent in the tension. 

While the tug of holiness is consistently there--whether heeded or not--I tend to reduce holiness to doing what is right. Do you land here too? Perhaps, like me, you also get too caught up in the "all your conduct" part of Peter's charge, too quickly narrowing the focus on our actions and attitudes.

Certainly, Peter has our real, daily living in mind in his exhortation to holiness. As one translation phrases it, "Don’t lazily slip back into those old grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing." The gospel is no excuse for "sloppy living," warns our spiritual friend.  

Yet what struck me atop God's majestic creation this past week was the source of my holiness. 

"as he who has called you is holy, you also be holy...since it is written, 'You shall be holy, for I am holy.'" 
(1 Peter 1:15-16)


The source of holiness is not my conduct, though inevitably holiness (or lack thereof) manifests in actions and attitude. No, the source of holiness is in relationship...to the Holy One.

What if that tug towards holiness is not so much a pull towards doing something right, but a pull from God into life with him.  A tug into "life shaped by God's life," not in theory but the daily practicals. What if Peter is exhorting us not with morality (do and think the right things) but rather with reality? The reality that God is with us, and for us--making us "holy" by his presence. 

And what if the aim of our life is to live into the fullness of this reality? Not perfectly in a purely ethical or faultless sense--we know unequivocally that we struggle not just with sin but with mistakes, even the "holiest" of us. Instead, what if the aim of life is to live wholly responsive to the presence of God with us, God for us, and God at work all around us. What if our Father's directive to "be holy, for I am holy," is not a call to a reductionist vision of perfectionism but a "life energetic and blazing."? A decree to share His life? 

As Peter elaborates throughout his letters, such a life is certainly distinct in our daily functions. And while the distinction manifests most often in backward actions and attitudes (that posture of submission, service, and suffering), its source is presence. Life lived in the Presence. A holy life. 

The early church had a name for people living fully (completely or perfectly) in the presence of God: saints. These women and men could not be described without reference to their relationship to our Father. People present to the Presence with them and at work in those around them. I think "saint" is a name worth making our life’s aim. And as a true friend and spiritual companion, Peter challenges, encourages, and equips me to be a saint, to be holy because God is with me, and for me, and at work all around me. 

Praying that you would aim to be a saint. And that as our aim manifests and matures in our vocations, offices, homes, and neighborhoods, that the grace brought to us through Jesus would draw others into a holy life too. 

Love you, faith family! May grace and peace be multiplied to you this week. God bless. 

Unanxious Urgency

Dear Faith Family,

Peter's two letters are a constant source of challenge for me. Chaz set us on course through the first letter earlier this summer, and we'll find our way into the second letter in the Fall.

Each time I read them, I am reminded that the author walked with Jesus in the flesh as "an apostle of Jesus Christ...a witness to the sufferings of Christ" (1 Peter 1:1, 5:1). Knowing what we do of Peter's life, we know that he followed Jesus, showing faith, utterly failing, and empowered in his commission for service only after an up and down apprenticeship. And so, Peter writes to women and men like us, ones "who have obtained a faith of equal standing," from a place of true companionship as "a fellow elder" under the care of "the Chief Shepherd" (2 Peter 1:1, 1 Peter 5:1,4).

Peter is very much like us, even in his very much trying to be like Jesus. Each time I reread his letters, his empathy grows clearer. Perhaps this is why his letters challenge me so. There is no pretense or air superiority, only one in awe of Jesus' person, power, and grace, writing to his "beloved" as a true spiritual friend who is accompanying them on the long journey home to the Father.

I believe Peter desired his first-century faith family to receive his words in such a way, as from a spiritual companion, rather than "the pillar of the church"...

Certainly, Peter was "the rock," but what he learned from a life with Jesus and how he writes to his fellow apprentices reveals one clothed with humility.  And so, I cannot help but read Peter's letters as written from one spiritual friend (albeit a much wiser one) to another. And from such a vantage, I find it hard to dismiss my friend's exhortations in the life of faith. 

For example, one characteristic our spiritual companion Peter admonishes in us is urgency. His consistent appeal to "the end of all things" and constant imploring to prepare "for action" and to "arm yourselves" leaves us in little doubt that our daily journey is through terrain where "war against your soul" is waged. And yet, missing in our friend's letter is any sense of panic.

Peter is urgent but not anxious. He recognizes the immediate and eternal current he is caught up in but is not scrambling amid the turbulent waters. Instead, he assumes peace in abundance!

"May grace and peace be multiplied to you...Peace to all of you who are in Christ." 
(1 Peter 1:2, 5:14) 


Peter's unanxious urgency challenges me. On the one hand, his passion challenges my apathy. If I'm honest, I'm prone less toward zeal than I am toward atrophy. Like Peter, I recognize the stream of history, but unlike Peter, such knowledge does not always heat up my daily activities. Rather, the temperature cools in my self-assurance of the situation. Peter's action-oriented urgency challenges my stoic realism, encouraging me that the reality of Jesus' rule and opposition to it is means everything (relationship & responsibility) takes place on the precipice of eternity! How can I be anything but urgent under these conditions? 

On the other hand, Peter's lack of panic and unanxiousness challenge my tendency to grasp for control amid the chaotic currents. Peter neither underestimates the immediate and eternal importance of each day's breath nor does he overestimate his role within it. Somehow in his life with Jesus, Peter has learned to act with conviction and purpose within his limits. He recognizes not only what he is caught up in, but also who is doing the catching. 

Peter knows what's at stake, for himself and others, in each day's dealings in this world, and so he enters life with urgency about him. He also knows that he neither started nor finishes the great story he is immersed in, but he knows the One who did and does! And so he enters every day at peace, passionate to play his part, and for you and me to do the same. 

This is just one example of how our spiritual companion Peter challenges me in my life of faith in Jesus. He has proven to be a true friend, encouraging and equipping me to listen and respond to our Father through the Spirit. I pray he'll be the same for you.

So then, might I encourage you in this month between Peter's letters to re-enter them? Remembering that they are words from a spiritual companion. Allowing them to challenge you and us as good, wise words from a friend in Jesus should. 

Love you, faith family! May grace and peace be multiplied to you this week. God bless. 

Sharing What We Have

Dear Faith Family,

Several weeks ago, I invited you to join me in an extended epiphany. A drawn-out "aw-ha moment" of noticing what's been latent in our understanding of purpose in God's kingdom becoming more vivid in our imagination and more tangible in our daily life.  And today marks the final ascent of our epiphanic journey! 

If you're new to these notes or just now jumping into the conversation, I encourage you to go back to the start before continuing forward. While what's ahead might be helpful, it will be much more so if you begin from the outset. For those choosing to share in our collective moment at another time, know you are cherished and that I am praying our Father's blessings over you this week!  

Now, if you're still with me, we need to take one last look at Jesus' familiar charge echoing through an unfamiliar frame: 

Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand--shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:16) 

I have to confess something. I am guilty of thinking (and living like) a life of generally “good works” is the “shining” that Jesus is after in this verse. I often fall prey to the thought that if I can just do enough good, be good enough, people will want to know why and will surely come to acknowledge the goodness of God. I know my thinking is a bit naïve, but honestly, it's where I get hung up in the more familiar translation of Jesus' exhortation, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” I take good works, and their visibility, as the main thing.

Do you ever get caught up in this observable aspect of Jesus’ appeal? Focused on making sure your goodness is seen, shining before others so that people will give God credit for it?

I think this is where the motivation to “Thank God” while the spotlight is on us springs from; at least, it does for me. Admittedly, it is usually at the moment of success or triumph—whether physically, vocationally, morally, or otherwise—when the “glory sharing” kicks in. While giving God his just due is never a bad thing, what’s come to the forefront in our journey is that my way of thinking has a couple of issues. 

First, let's be honest, no matter how much “good” shines forth in my actions, if you enter my house, it won’t be long before you see the “not good” too. For nearly every moment of success or triumph, there is often a moment of failure and defeat. For example, no matter how many moments I have of gracious and patient response to my children, there are still moments of frustrated impatience. In other words, the credit God gets for my daily actions is liable to be a mixed bag!

Second, there is no denying that there are many truly “good works” done by those who have no intention of giving God the glory. Good works that often out-do our own. It's not like Christians have the market on "good works," which makes total sense when we think about it.

Remember last week we discovered that the observable “good works” Jesus encourages would have been imaged as holistic hospitality by Jesus’ listeners. A "love of stranger" has always been necessary for both the survival and thriving of humanity. This is why cultures across the globe then and now champion hospitality as an indispensable, actionable value, and why you don't have to look too hard to find examples of "good works" everywhere. 

Yet Jesus assumed that our practice of being gracious and generous to guests would be distinct. Specifically, that our hospitality would "prompt people to open up with God." In other words, what Jesus assumes people will observe in our life together is not merely good works (they'll be there, of course) but God with us and for them

The light Jesus says we put forth when we “Keep open house, being generous with our lives…opening up to others” is not our “good works” but the hospitality of God towards us. Shining through our ordinary hospitality is the honoring welcome, sustaining intimacy, and restful safety we’ve received from our heavenly Father. What is seen is not a perfect life, but the perfect, present love of our Father for us through Jesus.

Jesus assumed that when welcoming people into our homes/lives, we are welcoming them into the presence of our Father, "this generous Father in heaven." The idea is not novel, but it is powerful. What Jesus expects and assumes will be effective “ministry” is simply that we'd share what we have received. 

I wonder, do our neighbors, friends, family experience our heavenly Father’s hospitality in our hospitality? When opening up to others (personally, as an individual/family, and as a faith family), are they prompted to be open with God? Do they feel the wholeness of his welcome through our welcome?

This is where our epiphany has lead, at least me anyway. Having been welcomed home by our Father, we extend that welcome to others--God with us and for them--by sharing what we've received. A rather straightforward revelation, but one that requires a regular reminder of what we have to share. I think this is why when Peter re-articulates Jesus' charge, he encases the "good works" of hospitality (1 Peter 4:9) explicitly in what we've received through Jesus, "love [that] covers a multitude of sins" (4:8) and unique gifts "of God's varied grace" (4:10-11). Peter saw reconciling love and Spirit-led speech and service as distinguishing Jesus’ hospitality, and ours as well. May it be so for us!

Onefinal encouragement as we conclude our extended meditation in Matthew 5:16. Spend some time reflecting on Jesus' expectation through Peter's re-articulation in his first letter (1 Peter 4:8-11), then let the questions above poke around your heart this week. Use them to invite the Holy Spirit to examen our life together so that we might be fully who Jesus assumes that we are: a city on a hill and lamps on a stand for the good of others and the glory of our Father. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

No, Really, How?

Dear Faith Family,

How's your "aw-ha moment" coming along? Have you begun to notice what's been latent in your understanding suddenly coming to the forefront and observable in daily living? Is Jesus' insistence to be seen living for others, for their good and God's glory, become more vivid in your imagination and more tangible in your daily life? 

I hope so! But don't worry if it's not, just yet. After all, if knowledge moved quickly into experience, what need would our faith lineage have for emphasizing so strongly, meditation (Gen. 24:63, Jos. 1:8, Ps. 1:2, 19:14, 119:15, 143:5, Prov. 4:20-22, Phil. 4:8...to name a few). With that said, I am praying with you that our Father's continuous generosity and effective placement are freeing us up a bit (more) to live confidently humble

Confident humility is where we left off last week, and before we pick things up again, let me remind those choosing to share our collective moment at another time how much you are loved and how grateful I am to follow Jesus with you! God bless my friends. 

Now, if you're still with me, we're almost there! Our epiphanic journey is winding down as we get to the heart of Jesus' familiar charge echoing through an unfamiliar frame: 

Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand--shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:16) 


Last week we discovered that how we get in on the action is through confident humility. Confident because of what God has already done and is doing in our lives and the lives of those around us. Humble in a truly healthy sense, to paraphrase C.S. Lewis, "not thinking less of our selves, but thinking of our selves less."

And while confident humility is all we need to get in what God has made us to be, if your honest, that probably didn't satisfy your craving for how we do what God wants us to do--and what we desire to do as well. Did it? Confident humility is great and all, but it feels more like a disposition rather than an action. So it's okay to admit that last week's leg of the journey left you wanting more pragmatic specifics. I felt the same way! 

Like you, I'd prefer more details when it comes to the how question. While I think it's important that Jesus doesn't provide elaborate specifics here, it's just as important to recognize what he assumed his listeners would do with his open analogy. How they would have filled in the blanks of "how." 

When Jesus said, "let your light before others," or "By opening up to others," his first-century audience would have filled in that analogy with an assortment of ordinary and expected actions. For much of human history, including the days when Jesus spoke, and certainly, for the nomadic cultures from which the Jewish people sprang, there have been a collection of observable "good works" necessary for any family, group, or society to exist and prosper. These essential actions can be summed up with the word: hospitality

The Greek word for hospitality, philoxenia, literally means "love of stranger." While the Hebrew language has no singular word for this love for others, we can see a holistic extending of care and friendship that being hospitable brings to mind in a few emblematic stories in Genesis. In practicing hospitality, one: 

  • assumed the other had dignity by greeting with a bow or kiss (18:2, 19:1)

  • opened up the home, the most intimate space (24:31)

  • cultivated a place for rest (18:4)

  • had a process of helping a person move from stranger to guest by washing feet (18:4, 19:2, 24:32)

  • provide and shared a meal (18:7-8, 19:3, 24:33)

  • fostered conversation (Gen. 24:33)

  • provided a safe place (Gen. 19:8)


Add in the way the Mosaic Law guided the Israelites to treat neighbor, the needy, and the outsider, in caring for them and especially by welcoming them into the feast and festivals (Deut. 16:11,14) and providing for cities of refuge (Deut. 19:1-13), and it's easy to see why hospitality is the foundational act of any social group. Without hospitality, you end up with either a self-protective, segregated community or a self-centered autonomous one. And both reduced the likelihood of enduring (much less flourishing), for everyone found themselves at some point in the place "stranger," in need of hospitality.

"Love of stranger" has always been necessary for both surviving and thriving. This is why being gracious and generous to guests was not a unique feature to the Israelite people. Cultures across the globe then and now have championed hospitality as an indispensable, actionable value. Yet Jesus assumed that the way we practice hospitality would be somewhat different, "prompting people to open up with God." But I think we've gone far enough today.

For now, we'll have to satisfy our appetite for "how" by considering how hospitable our daily living really is. How are we honoring and welcoming, cultivating rest and safety, for our neighbors, the needy, and the outsider?


Reflect over the Genesis description of hospitality above, and let the question of how hospitable we are poke around your heart this week. Use them to invite the Holy Spirit to examen your daily encounters and routines.

Note that there is an assumption of ready availability in the Genesis stories of "opening up to others." It's like hospitality is the natural response to people in need. What is our culture's natural response to people in need? Consider your encounters with co-workers, family, roommates, friends, neighbors, and strangers, especially when they are in need--physically, spiritually, emotionally, relationally. Where do they see your "open house" and generous life, and in what ways do they encounter something inhospitable? 

There's still one more turn to take, and we will. But Jesus assumes that before we get there, we'll be considering how hospitality matters. May it be so for us this week. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

How Exactly?

Dear Faith Family,

We are now several weeks into a shared aw-ha moment, one of those experiences when what's been there all along in knowledge and faith becomes vivid and tangible in daily life. Our collective light bulb flipping on by an unfamiliar reading of a familiar text. 

Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand--shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:16) 

For those joining me in this epiphany, we still have a few bends and turns before we reach our conclusion. But, before we go any further, let me provide those who are not in for this particular journey a chance to step off the trail for now. While I'd love for you to continue with us, I pray you'll find your way back here another time, knowing how much you are loved and how much I yearn for you to be filled with the fullness of God.

Alright, for those still with me, how's the discovery going so far? As we've meandered through the text, meditating on our life's grounding in the actions of "this generous Father in heaven," allowing Jesus' assumption that our tomorrow is today to examen our ambitions and anxieties, what's stood out to you? What has the Spirit revealed to you about how you are living?

We always get to the “how,” don’t we. The natural flow of our verse also happens to lead us here too. How we're to live as salt, a city, and light. What we're supposed to do in this place God's put us. Jesus offers us a rather succinct description, saying, "Keep open house, be generous with your lives."

This "how" question often consumes and overwhelms us Jesus followers. How do we live out our calling, purpose, faith? How do we do what God wants us to do? Whether in career, in home, in neighborhood, or in community, "How-To's" continue to be the best sellers among us Christians. How many do you own? I've got more than a few!

Whether you're a reader, a podcaster, or a program/bible study junkie, it seems many of us want to figure out how to "let our light shine before others," which is a good thing. And it's undoubtedly helpful to learn from the way others have done the same. Still, at least for me, there is a problem. It's not so much the means and methods (though honestly, sometimes it is!) but rather the excuses such examples foster.

Learning others' "how" can be inspiring, for sure. But, if I am honest, they can also distract me. I tend to walk away with things to do before doing the thing I am "supposed" to be doing. The thing I picked up the how-to for in the first place. Whether that before-thing is rearranging my schedule, figuring out what I'm passionate about, finding myself a quiet space to reflect, or following a step-by-step guide, I find myself with plenty to do before doing much of anything and also a bit exhausted. Have you ever experienced something similar?

Now don't get me wrong, a life of faith takes schedules, passions, contemplation, and planning seriously. Faith's first supplement, says Peter, is "excellence" (2 Peter 1:5). The problem is, we (at least I) start there, whereas Jesus assumes our actions have a different origin.

Hopefully, by this point in our journey, you've discovered along with me that before we get to what we do, Jesus assumes we know (and experience) what God is doing. Before we get in on the action, Jesus assumes we know (and experience) who and where we are is because God is acting generously, placing us at the peak of existence for the joy of all the earth. So, how we live out our purpose, how we do what God wants us to do, does indeed have a before; it's just God who is doing the before, not you or me or us. And this makes all the difference in the world, literally!

Think about what Jesus is implying. Our purpose in this together life with him--our mission as the church--is not achieved through sophisticated strategy, a fully-trained, organized, and fluent preparedness, nor any particular event, program, or ministry, as useful as these may be. Rather, how we get in on the action--God's action--is through confident humility.

I don't know about you, but keeping an open house cultivates self-assurance. Knowing people will come into our home, see the details of our daily living, and probably make judgments about our preferences, convictions, cleanliness, prosperity, etc., means we have to rest in something more foundational, more sure than whatever we can show off. To "Keep open house," continuously making room in our individual lives and our faith family for others, means we are not bound by petty and plaguing shames and prejudices. Instead, we are confident in who we are and are meant to be because of who God is and what he has done is doing.

And, we are humble because of our confidence. Because our confidence does not come from something so fragile and fleeting as our ego or actions, we can live generously. We live off and out of what God has given. As C.S. Lewis so aptly stated, it is humility that allows us to live a healthy others-oriented life, for "True humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less."

So, how are we living? Confidently humble? Does our life demonstrate confidence, unashamed to invite others into our lives personally, as well as into our faith family's life together? Do we live humbly, neither self-diminishing nor self-absorbed?

Let these questions poke around your heart this week. Use them to invite the Holy Spirit to examen your daily interchanges and habits. Think about what things you do regularly and what things you'd like to do that you don't. Note what drives you to do or not to do. Consider your interactions with co-workers, family, roommates, friends, neighbors, and strangers. Note your emotions and reactions to situations, whether positive or difficult, mundane or out-of-the-ordinary. Where do you see confident humility in your relationships, and where is there fear, shame, timidity, arrogance, or self-centeredness?

There's still a little more to get into in our verse, and we will. But Jesus assumes that before we get there, we'll have to rest in God's before. May it be so for us this week.

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Where Are We Now?

Dear Faith Family,

Last week, I invited you into an epiphany moment I'm having. One of those (sometimes drawn-out) moments where what you know--what's latent in your understanding, beliefs, faith--suddenly comes to the forefront and is observable in real life.

At least for me, such occurrences are often sparked by encountering the familiar in an unfamiliar way or an unexpected place. In this particular instance, the freshness was kicked started by this translation of one of Jesus' well-known statements,

Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand--shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:16) 


At this point, let me offer again an invitation to continue with me into the depths of Jesus' insistence, as well as an opportunity to not! While I'd very much like for you to keep reading, if you don't, know that I love you, I am grateful for you, and I long with you to see your life lived whole and holy in Jesus! 

Now, if you're still with me, I assume you've meditated at least some on Jesus' assumption that daily we know and experience the generosity of our Father in heaven. Our Father's generosity, as Jesus said, comes in the midst, and often through, the trials and tribulations of daily living by faith, what Paul calls the "birth pangs" of the Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

Hopefully, the Spirit has both encouraged and challenged you (as he has me) to understand that our existence is built on and lived out of God's generosity--amid every difficulty and goodness. If that's so, then the question becomes, where do we go from there? 

The answer is nowhere! Or rather, we're already there. Notice the location (and how we've got there) of the opening line of the verse, "Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand..."  

Where are we, "Now"? On a hilltop and a lampstand. How did we get here? God put us here. Simple enough. However, if you are like me, I am often on the lookout for what's around the corner, the next thing in life and faith that will help me be or do what I desire. In other words, I'm often looking out for somewhere else. Do you ever catch yourself doing the same thing?

Now, if I'm honest, my rather persistent (and societally encouraged) surveying of the terrain often leaves me feeling that a full and fruitful life is "always a day away," in the ever-elusive "Tomorrow, tomorrow..."  (Fun aside, Lily's been singing those words for the last couple of months as she was in an abbreviated version of the musical Annie earlier this summer...and did awesomely!) 

Back to our epiphany! While hope always has a forward gaze, the tension within me that Jesus' words raise is that he assumes tomorrow is today. He's not on the lookout for what's next, but the fullness of what is. Without rehashing the intended symbolism of a hilltop city and lampstand, suffice it to say that Jesus assumes that right now we are where (geographically and relationally) true life, in all its goodness and beauty, can be known and shared.

Do you believe that? Do we believe that every day, as long as it's called "today," is lived at the peak of life, for the joy of all life? 

Jesus believed it was and assumed that we would too. So what keeps us from believing and thus knowing and sharing?  We'll need to answer that question if we want to keep going on our journey. 

So, let Jesus' assumption poke around your heart this week. Use it to invite the Holy Spirit to examen your ambitions and anxieties. Think about how often your mind wanders into "tomorrow" and how much of your resources (mentally, spiritually, emotionally, as well as financially) are spent there.  If Jesus assumes tomorrow is today, what here today am I missing out on with my love (or worry) for tomorrow? 

There's still more to get into in our verse, and we will. But Jesus assumes that right here is where we'll find it--to God's glory, our good, and the joy of all the earth (Ps. 48:1-2). May it be so for us this week. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Whad'Ya Know?

Dear Faith Family,

There is an often-quoted appeal that has been bouncing around in my head as it makes its way into my heart and out into my life. I am sure you're familiar with these words of Jesus, 

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. 
(Matthew 5:16) 


These words have been all around me my entire life. They've been plastered on posters in Sunday-school rooms (remember those!), memorized in Bible-Drill, proclaimed from the pulpit, and printed on tee-shirts. From teachers to parents to preachers, Jesus'  insistence to be seen living for others, for their good and God's glory, has never been too far from my mind. Yet, there is something fresh about Jesus' charge that the Spirit doesn't want me to miss.  

I don't know about you, but sometimes hearing the familiar in an unfamiliar way opens me up to yet-plumbed depth. It's not that I discover something totally novel, a never-before-seen insight, but rather, what's been there all along becomes more vivid and tangible in my daily life.  

You've experienced these moments, right? Moments (sometimes draw out over days, weeks, or even a season of life) where what you know--what's latent in your understanding, beliefs, faith--suddenly comes to the forefront and is observable in real life. I think I'm in one of these moments. An epiphany springing forth from Jesus' familiar charge, and I'd like to invite you to share in it with me. 

All that's required is an openness to hear what Jesus says freshly and a willingness to ask a few questions. If you are up for that, keep reading. If not, no worries! But, before you stop reading, know I love you, I am grateful to follow Jesus alongside you, and I am praying our Father's blessing over you. 

Okay, if you're still with me, here is the unfamiliar wording of our familiar verse. Read it over a couple of times, then take a moment to let it sink in. 

Now that I've put you on a hilltop, on a light stand--shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
(Matthew 5:16) 


There is a lot that jumps out (at least to me) in this translation. What jumped out to you? 

If you're like me, my eyes are drawn to the action, to what action I'm supposed to take, "Keep open house, be generous with your lives." But as the passage has bounced around in my brain, I've been drawn to a more foundational element undergirding all the action. And this is where I want you to focus as well. Listening not to what Jesus is charging us to do, but what Jesus assumes we know and experience regarding "this generous Father in heaven." 

Do you think of God as generous? I'm sure you'd say "Yes, of course," just as I would. But, being honest, when describing God our Father, how many words and phrases do you use before you get to "generous"? God's generosity is not always top-of-mind for us. But perhaps Jesus is encouraging us that it should be. 

Take a minute and look at the verses preceding our text, those famous "Beatitudes" in 5:2-10. What do you notice about how each verse ends? Don't they all end with our Father giving something? Our Father in heaven giving comfort, the earth (which is flourishing), satisfaction, mercy, clarity, longevity (a future), and inheritance. Nothing less than "the kingdom of heaven," which is to say, everything

Our Father truly is generous! At least Jesus knew him to be. Now here's where fill the rub. Do people see our Father's generosity in my daily living? Or ask it this way, "Do I live my life off of the generosity of our Father, out the abundance of the everything He gives?"

Let the questions poke around your heart this week. Use them to invite the Holy Spirit to examen your day. Think about how you talk to God and talk about him. Consider your interactions with co-workers, family, roommates, friends, neighbors, and strangers. Note your emotions and reactions to situations, whether positive or difficult, mundane or out-of-the-ordinary. Where do you see a reflection of his generosity, and where is scarcity felt? 

There's more to get into in our verse, and we will. But Jesus assumes that more comes because we know and experience "this generous Father in heaven." May it be so for us this week. 

Love you, faith family! God bless.