The Heart of The Question

Dear Faith Family,

Now Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when Jesus finished, one of his disciples said to Jesus, 'Lord, teach us to pray as John taught his disciples.'
(Luke 11:1)

"teach us to pray" is a relatively simple request, don't you think? Praying, after all, is something everyone does at some point in life, whether they believe in God or gods or nothing much at all. 

Yet Jesus heard in the disciple's elementary question an honest hunger for something more than a religious routine or doctrinal description. Something fundamentally more genuine. Something more abundant. Something more akin to "the good portion" (Lk. 10:42) over a moral obligation. Something elemental to Jesus' own life--the source of his power, joy, and fullness. 

And so, Jesus responds with nothing less than model words, but also with something more. Jesus heard in his friend's request a desire for what Jesus had, life with a good good Father. 

In his prayer, parable, and poem (Lk. 11:1-13), Jesus invites us into the life he shares. A life of God with him, God for him. God giving, revealing, and welcoming. 

Jesus taught his friends to pray with his same character and expectations. But Jesus also shows us how we too can invite others into the heart of their desires. To listen to them and speak to them, inviting them to ask and receive, seek and find, knock and be welcomed.

What if we were to listen to our children this way? Our spouse? Our roommate? Coworker, boss, neighbor, or friend? What if their most elementary question or comment about faith or spirituality or hurt or need was met not with rehearsed words but with an invitation to speak straightforwardly with a good good Father and Friend. What if we, like Jesus, recognized their honest desire and, like Jesus, believed "the Father who conceived them in love will give the Holy Spirit when they ask him?" (Lk. 11:13) 

So this week, think about what Jesus' recognizes and how he responds to his friend's elementary request. I know I will be! And then together, let's be ready to invite others into the life we share with Jesus. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Answering the Call

Dear Faith Family,

Cohen and I awoke Sunday morning to the gentle sound of the Brazos River flowing a few feet from our tent. Having traversed nearly nine miles via canoe, survived the unrelenting heat, and exasperated our energy swimming, exploring, and playing the previous day, the surprising coolness and quietness of the morning crafted for us a welcoming sanctuary.  

Within an hour or so, the sun would dissipate the refreshing reprieve, and the efforts of packing up camp and returning to the canoe for the home stretch of our journey would distract from the tranquility of our organic worship. Nevertheless, for a few moments between the rigors and pleasures of the days business, we found ourselves a part of the world's worship. 

The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the expanse proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
whose voice is not heard. 
(Psalm 19:1-3) 

While we cannot awake every morning on a river's bank, we nevertheless have opportunities each day, between the rigors and pleasures of living, to find ourselves a part of the worshiping world. Whether during a quiet moment over a coffee cup before the house's occupants fill the silence, or amid the motion of a daily commute, or in the unplanned stillness of tasks finished early or a meeting running late, there is an ever-welcoming sanctuary awaiting our attention...if only we look and listen. 

We don't wake each day in a different world from the one Cohen and I found ourselves in this weekend. This morning, I did not step out of bed into a world less alive, less full of the wonders of God's creation and grace. And neither did you. 

But, what we do is turn on the t.v., turn up the podcast, and turn on to the next task or email rather than looking out the window or at a face of God's wonder and grace, and so miss the call to worship. 

I'd certainly encourage you to get out of the city and into the worship of the woods, "the peace of wild things," this summer if you get a chance. The effort is worth the soul's refreshment. But even more so, I'd encourage you to periodically turn off the distractions, look around you, and recognize where you are: in a world of God's wonder and grace calling you into worship. 

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

Praying From The Source

Dear Faith Family,

The source of Jesus' spontaneous, exuberant exchange with the Father, found in Luke 10:21-22, was not assured authority and power (10:17-19), but rather persevering and affection loyalty (10:20). The same is true for you and me. The source of joy overflowing is not in what we can control, master, or exercise authority over. Instead, it is in the ever-loyal love of the One to whom we belong. 

As we discovered on Sunday, Jesus' prayer sounds a lot like the prayer of Psalm 131. A prayer spilling over with joyous contentment as the psalmist encounters rest in the freeing, every-loyal, mother-like love of God. A prayer that can help you and me speak like Jesus too. 

So today my friends, take a few moments to let yourself sink into the fount from which life and words for life overflow. I've provided a little guide below to help you do so. 

A LITTLE GUIDE

The Message translates the first part of Psalm 131 this way:

God, I’m not trying to rule the roost,
    I don’t want to be king of the mountain.
I haven’t meddled where I have no business
    or fantasized grandiose plans.

I’ve kept my feet on the ground,
    I’ve cultivated a quiet heart.

Take a deep breath, and as you exhale, let go of the weight of ambition, the anxiousness of control, and the arrogance of busyness. Confess to God that you are not him, that the source of your joy is not what you have authority and power over, and allow your feet to be grounded in His presence and your heart to be quiet in Him.  Focus your attention on Him and be with Him.

The psalm concludes with these words: 

Like a weaned child content in its mother’s arms,
my soul is a child content.
 
Wait, Israel, those who wrestle with God and live.
Wait for God.
Wait with hope.
Hope now; hope always!

Now set a timer for 3 minutes.

Then, take a deep breath, and as you breathe in, pray: “Like a child…" and as you breathe out: “… I am content in You…”

As thoughts come, anxieties rise, and distractions pull you away from being still in the presence of God, return your mind’s attention and your heart’s affection to who and whose you are through the breathed prayer.

When the timer ends, respond. Whatever thoughts remain, whatever emotions discovered, whatever is relieved or given; "spontaneously" pray what has been revealed by the Son to the Father in the Spirit. 

Then, go, and live like an empowered and forever loved child of God. 

Searching For The Words

Dear Faith Family,

Do you ever have issues with your language? Not the occasional use of colorful descriptors (insert winking emoji!), so much as finding the correct words for a particular conversation--whether at work, with your spouse or children, and especially about God. 

It may come as a shock, especially from one whose vocation is so word-oriented, but I often do not know what words to use in ordinary and eternal conversations. Struggling to find the right phrase or question, the conversation putters around on the surface, failing to go into the depths of person or Presence that words allow. Have you ever similarly struggled?

I know that my issue isn't everyone's. In fact, I know there are those with a verbal proclivity equivalent to the Niagra Falls! Nevertheless, the truth is, whether struggling to get out the words or second-guessing the words that get out, we all experience the endeavor of language that cultivates communion and conversion. 

Good thing for us, the One who is "the Word" has a fix for our language issues. Ironically, the solution has nothing to do with getting the verbiage right but rather what we treasure.  

Jesus, speaking directly to his disciples while amid a multitude, says, 

"The good person out of the good treasure of the [their] heart produces good and the evil person out of [their] evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart [the] mouth speaks." 
(Luke 6:45)

If we want to use words well, regardless if our struggle is finding any words or using too many before we find the right ones, Jesus says the solution is to have a heart that stores up "good treasure." 

What is "good treasure"? Well, Jesus answered that question too. The joy of every deep desire satisfied in life with God,  a life in step with who we are in Him (Luke 6:20-22). When our hearts are full of such goodness, the right words flow out. 

So the only question left is, "How do our hearts go about getting this treasure?" Well, once again, Jesus' words make clear the way: 

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh."
(Luke 6:20-211) 

A humility that keeps us needy of another's help, a hunger for life that keeps us coming to the source of Life himself, a hurt felt at those things which make life less than whole is all that is required for our hearts to receive the "Blessed" good treasure. 

So this week, let's open our hearts to the good treasure of God with us, God for us, God in us. And from a place of neediness, hunger, and even hurt, speak words that bring life, "produce good," in our homes, offices, and neighborhoods. 

Love you, faith family! God bless.

A Wrestling Faith

Dear Faith Family,

Have you ever struggled with the difference between what you believe is true and what you observe to be true? If so, you're not alone. In fact, if we are honest, as honest as the psalmist of Psalm 73, we could freely admit that living by faith in Jesus, in the way of Jesus, sometimes feels like the wrong way to live. Especially as we look around at what is required to obtain the good of life.

The truth is, we all experience the disconnect between what we confess and what we can see. Between the confession "Truly God is good to His people, those whose hearts are singularly focused on Him" (Ps. 73:1) and the evident "prosperity of the self-interested" (Ps. 73:3).

Our problem is that we are not always comfortable enough with God or one another to be as honest as the psalmist. Rather than admitting our struggle of faith, we press on in the obligations of faith, growing embittered and brutish towards God and others (Ps. 73:21-22) as the Word and the world appear to line up less and less. Or, we put faith to the side, pulling it out when we need to be comforted but not employing it for any practical use (Ps. 73:10-11). But embittered religion or apathetic acculturation are not our only options. There is another way through the struggles of faith.

Psalm 73 is a post-Easter psalm. Like you and I today, the psalmist has pilgrimaged through the valley of death's shadows and is ready for the new life, a different world on the other side in "the dwelling of the LORD" (Ps. 23). And like us, the psalmist has discovered that the promised land of resurrection doesn't look all that different!

But unlike us, the psalmist neither begrudgingly holds to belief nor pragmatically sets it aside; rather, the psalmist wrestles...with God!

The candidness of the psalmist is not a wrestle to hold on to faith in important propositions but rather a wrestle with the One in whom he has faith. After all, like all psalms, this psalm is a prayer: genuine words spoken to and with an intimate God. The psalmist assumes that the contradictions he observes and feels are only cleared up in communion even while doubting,

"But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task; until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I saw the whole picture."
(Ps. 73:16-17)

Instead of denying his doubt or dismissing the practicality of his faith, the psalmist grabbed hold of the only sure thing, God's relationship/presence with him. And, like his forefather Jacob (see Gen. 32), the psalmist discovered that wrestling with God clears up faith's sight :

"Nevertheless, I am continually with You...You hold my right hand...You guide me with Your counsel...You receive me to glory...
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion, the one who does friendship forever."
(Ps. 73:23-26)

So faith family, as we continue into the Easter lands, "the land of the living" (Ps. 116:9), and encounter the struggles of faith, let us live up to our namesake, and be ones who "wrestle with God...and who prevail" (Gen. 32:28), so that we too might "see God face to face" (Gen. 32:30).

Love you, faith family! God bless.

A Little More Easter?!

Dear Faith Family,

On Sunday, we stood together with nearly a billion fellow Jesus followers and declared in song and scripture and sacrament: "We are dead to sin and alive to God. That’s what Jesus did!" (Rom. 6:11)

We are dead to all those actions, attitudes, affections, and even adversaries, that suffocate true life. No longer are we bound, imprisoned, entombed by that which decays life. Rather, we are free to roam in "the land of the living"! Alive to God because we've gone through death with Jesus! Or, in the Spirit-filled words of the apostle Paul,

I have been crucified with Christ [dying to sin as He died for our sins]. It is n longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.
(Gal. 2:2)

For "the Church," Sunday was a planned public reminder of this world (re)creating moment that grounds our faith. Yet, every morning since that first Easter morning, including this morning, we who are loved by the Son who gave His life so that His life might be our life, should awake to declare afresh: "I am dead to sin and alive to God. That's what Jesus did!"

Try it. Right now, wherever you are reading this email. Take a deep breath and, out loud or in your heart, declare: "I am dead to sin and alive to God. That's what Jesus did!"

Now let the truth of Jesus' affection, attitude, and actions for you settle on you for a moment. Envision the remainder of your day lived free from sin. Unbound by actions, attitudes, and affections that take life rather than cultivate flouring. Freedom not because you are trying hard, but because Jesus "will destroy all the adversaries of my soul" (Ps. 143:12). See yourself entering every interaction and responsibility set before you, whether mundane or pivotal, as one who is dead to sin (your own and that of others) and alive to God with you, for you, in you. Then get on with the day, enabling faith to come into life.

And then tomorrow, repeat this Easter exercise: DECLARE-- ENVISION -- ENABLE FAITH! And keep repeating until every morning becomes an Easter morning as we follow Jesus deeper and deeper into the life of God.

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Out of Lenten Lands

Dear Faith Family,

It's hard to believe that our pilgrimage through the season of Lent is nearing our destination. The downward journey we began some thirty-plus days ago, following Jesus into the depths of the death of (old) self and sin, has us ascending with Jesus into life best described as "free." 

Psalm 130 led us to this final lesson of Lent, that dying to (old) self and sin is being set free from the things and ways of life that imprison us. So, as we make the final turn out of the shadowy valleys of death to the green pastures of life whole and holy in God, take some time this week to thank our Father for your freedom. Consider what ways of thinking, believing, and behaving have/are changing. What fears, anxieties, and ambitions have/are being reoriented. The signs of resurrection, new life, in your relationship with God and others you are seeing. 

Remember, that's what we "watch people" do, keep a trusting, clear out for the breaking of dawn in our lives and one another's. Waiting and hoping in the LORD! "For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plenteous redemption." (Ps. 130:7). 

Your loving spirit led me forth, my bonds
Were broken, and I took the pilgrim path
Towards your Easter, out of Lenten lands. 

(Malcolm Guite)

Calling for 'A Family Talk'

Dear Faith Family,

Whenever a parent says, "We need to have a family talk," usually there is something weighty to discuss. Rarely does a formal family conversation get called to choose a paint color for little Billy's room or what meals will make the rotation in the coming week. On occasion, the family talk might be primarily positive, like where to go on summer vacation. But most of the time, as is our case today, the conversation is spurred by something or some things a bit more serious. 

First things first, the opening verses of Psalm 102 are the community calling for "a family talk."

Hear my prayer, O LORD; 
let my cry come to you! 
Do not hide your face from me; 
in the day of my distress! 
Incline your ear to me; 
answer me speedily in the day when I call! 
(Ps. 102: 1-2) 

While these verses might not sound like a dad calling everyone to the living room couch, they've been heard as such by God's people for millennia. These two verses are repeated throughout the Psalms (39:12, 54:2, 61:1, 64:4, to name a few) and are the community's way of clarifying that it's time to talk to God one another. The verses that follow reveal the weighty nature of the conversation: death and life. 

As we discussed on Sunday, verses 3-11 get the conversation started as we share our experience of dying to (old) self and sin. The pain, unease, and loneliness we feel through the exposure and letting go of that which is less than true life, while particularly felt by us, is universally shared by all of us. We are not alone in our dying. We've all--including Jesus--felt death's sting, and we get to remind each other of this truth at the moment when we need to hear it (and repeat it!) the most. 

But our family talk does not end at death; it continues onto life anew. Verses 12-22 shift the conversation to life after death. Resurrection is serious talk. Talk of God's power and his compassion. Talk of his glory in our presence and across all the world. Talk of the end of imprisonment and the beginning of real and forever freedom. We share our experience of how God has/is changing us so that we never forget what reality truly shapes our daily existence. 

So, call a family talk this week! Make arrangements to share your dying and share of our rising with your spouse or roommate, your Gospel Community or DNA, your kids, co-worker, neighbor, or friend. Remember that such conversations take place,

"for a generation to come,
so that a people yet (re)created
may praise the LORD"
(Ps. 102:18) 

What To Consider At The End

Dear Faith Family,

The famed scholar of the psalms, Walter Brueggemann, once wrote, 

"The Bible is not interested in making lists of what is acceptable, as much as it is interested in transformational intentionality."

What spurred the Old Testament Professor's comment was his observation of apparently contradictory passages in our psalm from Sunday. The confusion begins with the psalmist's discovery of what God does and doesn't want from us--which is something we all want to know, right! 

For you will not delight in [atoning] sacrifice, or I would give it;
you will not be pleased with a [peace] offering. 
The sacrifices of God are broken and contrite spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. 
(Psalm 51:16-17) 

So, according to the psalmist, God is not so much interested in our ritual and religious acts done to make restorations for our sin or pacify His frustration with us. Instead, God wants only a spirit and heart that breaks when our relationship with him is askew. Great! God doesn't want me to do all those "religious" things--sacrifices, offerings, going to church, daily prayers, reading my bible, etc. What He really wants is for me to take our relationship seriously so that when I offend it, I feel the pain of wounding a loved one. 

This passage is quite modern! It checks all the boxes of generations moving away from religious structures. Here, it seems is no religion, just a relationship. But then the psalm continues and seems to contradict itself. 

Do good in Zion in your good pleasure; 
build up the walls of Jerusalem; 
then will you delight in right sacrifices, 
in [peace] offerings and whole burnt offerings; 
then bulls will be offered on your altar.
(Psalm 51:18-19)

Wait a minute. I thought the psalmist said God will not delight in sacrifices and offerings? Yet here, the Psalm seems to say that God does delight in sacrifice and offerings--even adding more ritual examples of what God finds acceptable! So, which is it? Does God want me to do "religious" things or not? 

It is easy in a season like Lent, where we are invited to do more "religious" things like fasting weekly, praying the Examen regularly, entering into Lectio Divina rhythmically, etc., to lose sight of why we are doing these things.

Perhaps, we think that in doing them--or any number of "Christian" activities--God will be pleased with us. And God's pleasure, after all, leads to the good things we are after in life, whether spiritually, emotionally, or even physically. Or maybe, subconsciously, we do them because we hope that doing so makes us a little better. Maybe even making up for some of the ways in which we are not who we want to be.  

Here, just as we begin the final leg of our pilgrimage, the psalmist leads us to consider the intentionality of our interactions with God. The psalm's end is not to get us to ask, "What does God want?" but rather, "Why am I doing what I'm doing?"  

The life we after through Lent--a favored life, forgiven, clean, whole, and new--is given to us, being formed within us. That's what verses 6-12 of Psalm 51 testify. God delights in the wholeness of our life in Him and in showing us how to live wisely (v.6). He has, is, and will purge, clean, wash (v.7), open ears to gladness, mend bones to dance (v. 8), not go hunting for sins but rather blot out iniquities (v.9), create a clean heart, renew a steadfast spirit (v. 10), not remove His presence but fill with His Spirit (v.11), restore joy, and exuberantly uphold life (v. 12). After such a list, what is there left for us to do?! 

Our "sacrifices" and "offerings" during the Lenten season are not efforts to earn favor or make amends. Jesus has already done that for us. The intention of our "religious" practices has been transformed at the depth of our inability to truly live (v. 3-5). No, we do these things because we desire to daily life more and more in sync with His goodness, purpose, and presence. Life as people who know and are known for the truth of who and Whose we are (v. 13-15).

So, faith family, let us take a moment to consider your intentions during this journey through the Lent season. Freed from attempting to do what only God can do (and has done!), may our practices do what they are meant to: help us walk in step with the Way so that others might do the same. 

Out of sheer generosity, He put us in right standing with Himself.
A pure gift. He got us out of the mess we're in
and restored us to where He always wanted us to be.
And He did it by means of Jesus Christ. 
(Romans 3:24)

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Speeding Our Arrival

Dear Faith Family,

The season of Lent may be the most antithetical to our human nature, not to mention our cultural values! This is understandable, of course. Throughout Lent, we are invited repeatedly to die--to let go of the old self and sin. Yet, day in and day out, we spend most of our living trying to stay off death!

The paradox of asking the living to enter the tomb willfully is demonstrated most poignantly in the days before we return "ashes to ashes." Before we kick off our pilgrimage through death's shadows, in Carnival and Mardi Gras (and their many imitations), we grab all that we can desire out of living! 

While most of us probably do not participate (at least not wholeheartedly!)  in these pre-Lenten parties, we also do not get too excited about giving up life--even if it is just a particular part for a specified time. Psalm 38, as we saw Sunday, gives voice to these struggles of letting go of life, of self and sin.

The voice is not so much a protest of dying nor its glorification. The psalmist loves life, and as an honest lover, does not hide the repugnant discomforts of dying. Rather than bemoaning or beckoning death, the voice of the psalm guides us through the rocky terrain of "the downward movement of the soul" from life to grave. Walking us through the struggles to cling to life and into the place we must all arrive if we are to find life new. 

In the first nine verses, the psalmist voices our desire for life and the pangs we experience as the life we know gives way to its end. Then, with heart panting to a finish, strength failing, the light of the eyes gone out, the psalmist's hearing fails; he's deaf to the voices within and without exhorting him to stay upright. Even his power of speech fades. He's mute, finally unable to offer a rebuke for the loss of life (Ps. 38:10-14). Here, at "the bottom of human helplessness," is where the psalmist has been leading us. The place we all must go, the grave of our old self and sin. And here, the psalmist does the only thing the dying can do: embrace death...and wait for life after. 

No more struggling with God (v. 1-2) and self (v. 3-8) to keep a broken life as it is. No more expecting others to rescue (v. 11) nor excuses because of the enemy's traps (v. 12). Here, the psalmist embraces death, entrusting even death to the Giver of Life:

"for you, O LORD, do I wait...it is you who will answer.
For I am ready to fall...I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for sin."
(Ps. 38:15-18)

The grave is where we arrive, the place we must reach, even if we tend to do everything to delay our arrival! Praise God, like Jesus, our stay in the tomb won't be for too long!

"all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death...buried…with him...in order that, just as Christ...we too might walk in newness of life." (Rom. 6:3-4)

So this week, as we enter the psalms through our Lenten practice of Lectio Divina, let's start praying for a speedy arrival. In the first movement of the practice, replace the "centering prayer" with this adapted Lenten prayer for the Orthodox tradition. And, when your mind wanders and your spirit wains in the struggle, come back to the prayer embracing death so that you might really live!

O Lord and Giver of my life!
Take from me the spirit of avoidance,
which keeps me from following Jesus into my grave.
Take from me the spirit of faint-heartedness,
despair that speaks the lies that the grave is where I'll stay.
Take from me the lust of power
that would have me fight to keep what is mine
rather than receive what is yours.
And, Father, take from me foolish talk,
letting my confession be without self-deceit.

May you find that in the dark depths of the death of sin, "night is bright as the day," for even here, His hand will lead and comfort (Ps. 139:8-12).

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Just Take A Deep Breath!

Dear Faith Family,

By now, it's clear that through the Lenten season and accompanying practices, we are invited to die. A daunting invitation, no doubt! Yet, when embraced, we soon find ourselves not alone and confined, but instead surrounded by a host of others following Jesus along the road to cross and tomb expectant that will share in what comes after. "For," as the apostle Paul points out,

"one who has died has been set free from sin...if we have died with Christ...we will also live with him...he died to sin...he lives to God...consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus."
(Romans 6:7-11). 

Living "free from sin" sounds nearly as daunting as dying to it. At least to me! While certainly aspirational, the prospect of navigating daily living--with family, job, illness, injustice, bills and to-dos, co-workers and bosses, wars and rumors of wars, endless ways to disconnect and constant encouragement to get more of everything--without sinning seems possible only in another world! Rare is the day when some attitude, action, or affection is not off the mark to some degree. Whether in relationships, responsibilities, or toward God Himself, either out of ignorance or arrogance, I am not transgression free. 

Good thing that is not God's presumption of me!  

Don't get me wrong; God desires us to live on the mark. He wants you and me to choose His way of life and forgo the ways of death. Our heavenly Father just knows we don't always do so! Actually, as we saw in Psalm 32 this past Sunday, He presumes that we will find ourselves transgressing the markers of His path and in need of regular course correction. 

How God responds to our missteps (wanton or accidental) generates the atmosphere of our Lenten journey. The psalmist helps us recognize that the very breath of life is the air of forgiveness.

Blessed is the one whose
transgression is forgiven, 
whose sin is covered. 
Blessed is the person against whom the 
LORD counts no iniquity, 
and in whose spirit (breath) nothing is hidden. 

(Psalm 32:12)

All we have to do is open up our lungs and inhale. Acknowledge that we are not transgression free, but free from the bonds of our transgression in the atmosphere of His forgiveness (Ps. 32:5). 

As we acclimate to the climate, we, like the psalmist, begin to experience the "Bless-edness," happiness, of living in "another world." Not a superficial, fragile, or fleeing happiness, but the deep wholeness which comes from a soul in communion with God--daily and intimately instructed, taught, and counseled by Him in the way to living, on the mark, free from sin (Ps. 32:8). 

So as we continue the pilgrimage of Lent together this week, let me encourage you to TAKE A DEEP BREATH (or three!), LISTEN, and LIVE FREE, dead to sin and alive in Jesus. Seriously!

Before entering into the final movements of the Prayer of Examen, take three deep breathes. Fill your lungs with the air of life through each breath, saying what Psalm 32 trains us to say: 

Breath In: "I am forgiven!"
Breath Out: confessing where you stepped off the way. 

Breath In: "My sin is covered!"
Breath Out: acknowledging where you've missed the mark. 

Breath In: "God does not hold my guilt against me!"
Breath Out: The shame that keeps you hiding. 

Then listen to the counsel of the One who wholly sees you, from whom you have nothing to hide, but who hides you in His freeing love (Ps. 32:7)! Let Him instruct you through the examen and teach you the way free from sin in "another world"-- His presence! 

"If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
(John 8:36)

May we abide in His Word, and may Truth set us free.

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Dying To Live

Dear Faith Family,

On Sunday, we entered into the "movement of Lent" with Psalm 6 mapping for us what will be our course through the valley of death's shadows to the green pastures and still waters of Easter morning. Jesus, guarding and guiding us as we mourn and decry the shedding of the "old self's" weighty cloak in the expectant hope of life new, free, and forever. Which all sounds great...in poetic metaphor anyway!

Yet, as the first verses of the psalm describe, our journey through the Lenten season is no Sunday stroll! Even if we know we are just passing through "Sheol," entering the "vast sepulchral cavern," death's stronghold, a dark wasteland, and the hunting ground of a disastrous beast of prey (each of which is a meaning of Sheol in our scriptures) is vexing of body and soul, stunts faith's memories, and silences the echos of worship in our hearts. 

If we are honest, we'd rather get to the free and forever life on the other side of Lent through any other pilgrimage instead of the one that leads us to the cross and grave of Jesus. And yet, as Jesus said (and showed), it is only through dying that we experience the real life we are after,

Truly truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.
(John 12:24-25).

By following Jesus through the season of Lent, we choose to fall to the earth and die the "little deaths" from which new life springs forth.

You see, the road Jesus leads us down is not our end, but the end of all that keeps us from living truly. And while the shadows of death feel entombing, their grip always gives way to the upward movement of resurrection. 

The good news for us is "that one has died for all; therefore all have died...that those who live might...live...for him who for their sake died and was raised. " (2 Cor. 5:14-15). Because Jesus went all the way, literally--life to death to grave/pit/Sheol to life again--we can (while still breathing) experience the exhalation,

O LORD, You have brought up my soul from Sheol; You restored me to life that I should not go down to the pit.
(Psalm 30:3)

During Lent, we are invited by Jesus to die so that we might live, to die to all that keeps us from a new, whole, and fruitful life--personally, collectively, societally. So, this week in our Lenten rhythms, choose to follow Jesus by asking the Spirit:

What needs to die? What within me (attitude, action, or affection) needs to die that I might truly live?

Ask and then listen without fear or judgment. Rest in the truth that new life comes through these necessary little deaths. Then share. Invite your spouse, DNA, spiritual friends, and/or Gospel Community into the journey alongside you. Jesus demonstrated that fateful night in the garden that we'll need the encouragement of such companionship on the way to our cross, entombment, and life anew.

May we come to know in our homes, workplaces, relationships, and for the good of our neighbors that "to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:21).

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Entering A New Season

Dear Faith Family,

Today millions of Jesus followers, churchgoers, and religious practitioners worldwide begin a season of abstinence known as Lent. Much like the season of Advent helps prepare us for the depths and riches of Christmas Day, so too does the Lenten season helps prepare us for the transformative abundance of Easter morning. And this year, our faith family will be participating in more of this season's rhythms!

Over the next six weeks, our fellow apprentices will abstain from alcohol, social media, sugar, and “anything that hinders our communion with God." (Willis, 21). Some will fast sunrise to sundown, giving up food entirely. Some will freely choose this self-denial for the full 40 days leading up to Easter Sunday, others for three weeks, and some for only Holy Week, those last few days leading to the all-important weekend events of bloody cross and empty tomb.

While the methods and duration may differ, what begins today on Ash Wednesday is a preparation "for the miracle of forgiveness on Good Friday and its life-giving power on Easter." (McKnight, 92-93). The Lenten season is dedicated time of "self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word" (Book of Common Prayer, 265).  

While many in our faith family will joyously and knowledgeably join with our sisters and brothers across the planet in Lenten practices, there are just as many (including myself) who have only a little history with such tradition. So, if you are like me, let me invite you into a weekly rhythm leading up to Easter to help us join our global faith family at this special time.

1. Make the Prayer of Examen a three-times a week practice. You can find a guide here. Remember, the “skill” honed in this practice is not assessment but attentiveness. We desire to get better at being aware and responsive to God with us and for us.

2. Join us in meditating on the “Penitential Psalms” twice a week. You can find a guide here. We’ll use these to focus our collective attention this Lenten season.

3. Join us in a weekly Fast starting this week. You can find a guide here.

Three "examens," two "psalms," and a day without, for the next six weeks or so. 3-2-1, and we're in rhythm!

I hope you'll be able to join me at least in part! Regardless, join with me TODAY, whether today is a significant day in your faith or a day you know hardly anything about, and PRAY WITH ME THE “LITANY OF PENITENCE” as we share with our brothers and sisters around the globe, a reminder of our mortality and the gracious gift of everlasting life. Pray with and as the Chruch:

Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and to 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, merciful 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.

From Particular to Essential and Back Again

Dear Faith Family,

As one reading this email, I hope you know that you are prayed for, specifically and often. Sometimes my prayers for you are particular, seeking our Father with you amidst specific circumstances, longings, needs, afflictions, opportunities, and joys. And sometimes, I pray for you, and us, something less particular yet more essential and elemental.

This prayer was prayed for another faith family millennia ago, and in light of our recent focus, it rings relevant for our life together in Jesus today. Here are the words prayed for you, today and regularly, and why they matter...

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through the Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or imagine, according to the power at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
(Ephesians 3:14-21)

Paul could have (and certainly did) pray particulars for his faith family. Yet, his essential prayer is that they would discern and experience in daily life the fullness of the power at work within them--the abundance beyond request and vision of His riches, His life, in their lives.

It seems Paul believed the tensions of the particulars--the losses, fears, needs, as well as the hopes and heights--which cause us to bow our knees, find their relief, their peace, in the intimate awareness of Christ's dwelling in us. And he knew they'd need strength from outside themselves to trust, rest in, and experience the abundant life from the transformative affections of Jesus for them.

Notice in the prayer that the power of the Spirit is not for us to accomplish something or to overcome something or to figure something out, but instead, to strengthen our inner being for the immensity of Jesus abiding in us. Perhaps we should follow Paul's lead, and before (or as) we pray the particulars for one another, pray the essentials with one another.

Try it this week. Let this scriptured prayer be your entry into prayer for your friends, family, co-workers, neighbors, even yourself. To help, start by filling in the blanks below. As your doing so, let the Spirit's power work within and through, to the glory of God in our (and every) faith family. Love you, faith family. God bless!

For this reason, I bow my knees before the Father, from whom _____ is named, that according to the riches of our Father's glory, our Father may grant ____ to be strengthened with power through the Spirit in _____('s) inner being, so that Christ may dwell in _____('s) hearts through faith—that _____, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that _____ may be filled with the fullness of God.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we (me and _____) ask or imagine, according to the power at work within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen

Whose Talents?

Dear Faith Family,

Do you ever think about what God wants you to do with your life? How He desires you to use your gifts, abilities, and passions for His kingdom and your good? Based on a near-decade of time together, I know you do! And I'm right there with you! Cyclically assessing if I am putting my talents to their most honoring, prosperous, and fulfilling use. 

The funny thing is, we looked at  Parable of The Talents on Sunday and discovered Jesus' kingdom depiction had nothing to do with the proper use of what abilities we possess. Instead, what Jesus expects is for us to put to use His life given to us. 

I know that the last sentence sounds strange, but understanding it is crucial to the question which we regularly wrestle. So let's tease it out a bit. 

Suppose we (even unconsciously) assume that a faithful and fruitful life with God and others comes from making the best use of our gifts, abilities, and passions. How do we account for the, say, 60-90% of life lived outside of our skills and aspirations? We can all attest to the reality that a significant portion of life is doing things that we feel ill-equipped or uninspired to do! So is only what can be done well, and fulfilling so, worth doing in the kingdom of God?

Of course not! We know that it's often in our struggle and weakness that the kingdom comes most clearly into sight. While it's a good, even blessed, thing to be in a place to use our talents and passions, it's not necessary to a faithful and fruitful life. But let's take things a step further.

Do we think that if we were somehow able to make the most of our talents--our natural abilities and honed skills--the world would be righted? At least our personal world anyway. Doing what we are best at and love, for God, surely bears the highest kingdom yield. But what about those times when it doesn't? When talents employed with zeal return little evidence internally and/or externally that the kingdom has indeed made a significant appearance. In these seasons, we wonder if something is off or missing. Here, we question if we should be doing something else with our life. If experiencing the abundance of the kingdom is really contingent on using my talents, it's no wonder I come back again and again to the question that got us started!

Yet we know that the kingdom--God with us and for us, reconciling to himself all things, overcoming sin and death, making all things new--is an unstoppable movement. While perhaps not as speedy as we'd prefer, we know what was started will be finished. So why are we, as willing participants in salvation's continued unfolding, so rarely settled on our place and purpose in the story?

It is true that living into who God has uniquely, intimately, and lovingly crafted us to be in relation to himself and his kingdom is an essential focus of our faith (i.e., Psalm 139). And our faith family spends a significant amount of time on this focus. So maybe our issue isn't the intent of our longing. Desiring to do what we love and are good at for God is a good thing! The real issue is we focus too intently on what we bring to the table, rather than what is offered at the table.

Going back to Jesus' story, the master entrusts his servants what is already his, essentially and practically his life. The entrusting master expects his now elevated servants to use his life. To trade with it, to put it to work, and in so doing, they discover an absurdly abundant return.

The master does not say to the servants, "Use what you have (i.e., your talents)," but rather, "Take what is mine, my talents, my life and live on it, through it, for it." And on his return, it is the servants' faithfulness to go about their business using the master's life that earns his delight and completes their joy.

So, perhaps the question is not what am I doing with my life (my talents), but how am I living on Jesus' life? In what ways am I living on the sacrificial compassion, excessive generosity, and unqualified faith bestowed to me?

After all, as the apostle Paul put it,

"It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Gal. 2:20)

So here is my challenge and encouragement to us. Instead of getting up tomorrow and asking, "How can I best use my skills and abilities, my talents, for the kingdom today?" Let us begin our day by asking the Spirit for the strength and wisdom to "Let me put to use the life and faith of Jesus in me today."

I wonder if we won't see those same "talents" produce abundant kingdom returns!

Love you, faith family. God bless!

Dishonest Wisdom

Dear Faith Family,

What do we do when we disappoint God? How do you respond when you fail to live up to the expectations of faith? 

We don't like to talk about failure and disappointment, especially in our culture. Add in the fact that our faith's sub-culture has probably talked too much about both at times, and it's no wonder we avoid the topic. Yet the truth is, we have all felt at one point or another that in our doing or failing to do something, we have not lived up to our faith. When honest, we can all confess that we believe we have disappointed the One to whom we've given our life's worship in some measure, great or small. 

So what do we do? How do we respond when we know we haven't made the best use of the life we've been gifted? Well, Jesus tells a story to help us answer that question. And it is the most surprising of all of his stories! 

In the parable of the Wise Gambler, more commonly known as "the Dishonest Manager" found in Luke 16:1-8, Jesus rattles our base assumptions about mercy and grace and living well after failure to live up to expectation.

In the steward (manager) character, we find one like us. One who has in some way squandered or wasted the resources of life given him. And like us, the exposure of his failings has put him in a place of indebtedness to the master whose resources he misused. And, like us (and the characters from our previous parables), the steward receives unexpected and costly mercy. Assuming the loss as his own, the master does not hold the manager to the letter of the law. Instead, the steward is allowed to keep his life and resources. But what will he do? How will he go on living, especially as one who everyone will soon know has fallen short of expectations?

Well, says Jesus, the steward acts with prudence, shrewdly demonstrating his wisdom by taking advantage of grace! He does not plead for restoration nor promise piety as repayment but instead gambles his future on the mercy he's already received. Without hesitation, he uses everything at his disposal in a truly "dishonest" scheme that will cost the master once again. The now dishonest manager assumes that if the master was willing to pay for his failings, then the master will also pay for his continued living! What a bold move of faith!

In his failing, perhaps for the first time, the steward recognizes the true nature of the One under whose grace and provision he finds himself. And perhaps for the first time, he abandons himself and his resources fully to the nature of the Master and begins to live wisely. Perhaps, in our failings, we too might respond with such prudence!

Admittedly the parable of the Wise Gambler is perhaps the most confusing of Jesus' stories. Yet it might also be the most valuable for you and me who strive to be good, wise stewards of the life we've been gifted. So if you missed Sunday, take a few minutes to work through the parable here, and then join us in asking:

How would my life (relationships and roles) look different if I lived with the wisdom of the dishonest manager?

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Not This, But That

Dear Faith Family,

"Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?"

This is the crucial question the lord of the vineyard asks in Jesus' parable of the Compassionate Householder (Matt. 20:1-16). Having lessened his position through the lowly work of hiring and exposed himself to ridicule for paying more for the labor than supply would demand, the master of the house now responds to the accusation of injustice by the very ones for whom he compassionately supplied daily provision and dignity. How could those who started the day unemployed with only the uncertain hope of bread and purpose, now, having plenty of both, be so ungrateful and entitled? 

It is easy to judge others, to question their hearts and perverted vision (v. 15) if we never recognize ourselves in them. Supposing we think ourselves somehow immune to their deficiency, somehow incapable of their shortcomings. The truth is; however, we all find ourselves sometime or another in the shoes of the full-day laborers. Having put in a hard day's work, we wonder why we don't have more than what was promised, and so we voice our displeasure to the One we followed into the fields of faith. 

When we do see ourselves in the ones we judge, and at some point we all do, it's natural to feel a bit foolish for the audacity of our confronting the master who graciously provides more than enough. But, and hear this faith family, the emphasis of the householder's question is NOT to put us in our place before our sovereign. We should NOT hear Jesus' words internalized as: 'Who are you to grumble? Who are you to question me? Be content with what you have and be gone!"

No, no, no! Rather than emphasizing our "proper place," the question focuses on His choice. Jesus puts the question before those listening so that we might consider precisely what He chooses to do with what is His. 

As we mentioned on Sunday, these stories are only secondarily about us and primarily about Him! 

And what does He choose to do? Freely, choose to do with what is his? He provides for each wholly what is needed and what dignifies, and does so with humiliating compassion and foolish generosity.

Certainly, a grumbling spirit cannot be a soul content, but that is not the point of Jesus' story. This Kingdom Epiphany enlightens us to what we can expect from the One under whose charge we find our daily living: compassion and dignity. Whatever our circumstances, we can trust that His nature is to act towards us with sacrificial compassion and provide us with all that we need to live whole at His expense.

The LORD of the vineyard in which we daily labor is neither stingy nor snobby, and that is truly good news worth sharing!

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Clearing Things Up

Dear Faith Family,

Our faith is pretty important to us, wouldn't you agree? And not just significant in the sense of the value we place upon it, but actually essential to the daily experience of life.

What we think and believe about the King and His Kingdom has a tremendous impact on ordinary living things like jobs and marriages, free time and commitments, to-do lists and bank accounts. Everything falls under the purview of God with us, God for us, which is pretty great news! That is unless our assumptions about the nature of our King and His kingdom don't line up with what is actually true of him. 

If you are like me, you don't like the idea of your view of God or life with God being out of focus. After all, who wants to think that he is missing or she misunderstands something, much less something as important as God's kingdom? But here is the thing which the apostle John points out, dimness is a shared trait of our humanity, 

"The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own dominion, and his own did not accept his profession (i.e., the truth he revealed)."
(John 1:9-11)

The propensity of our assumptions about the King and Kingdom to be a bit off is why Jesus told parables. Desiring for us to see truly, Jesus told stories meant to "deceive the hearer into truth," as Kirkegaard noted. While all of Jesus' parables would have been relatively common experiences for his listeners, each story contains (at least one) unexpected and transformative element.

Those listening to Jesus tell these stories would have been following along, easily identifying with the familiar components, and then, all of a sudden, something Jesus says stops them in their tracks. Whether the elevation of a helpful stranger or a reaction of a master to a dishonest manager, something in the story made those listening, really listening, question their assumptions about the King and His Kingdom. And there is no more assumption exposing and transforming parable than "The Prodigal Son." Or, as we learned on Sunday, the parable of "The Humiliating Father."

Of all of Jesus' stories, the one found in Luke 15:11-32 may be the most foundational to seeing Truth clearly. The acclaimed Middle-Eastern scholar, Kenneth Bailey, argued that it was through this parable that Jesus retold the story of God's relationship with humanity, providing us with an image to challenge and reshape our misunderstandings as his children.

Though we'll be moving into other parables in the coming weeks, it will be through the vision we gain of the King and His Kingdom from this indispensable story. So I encourage you this week, listen to the story and ask what assumptions of "the two sons" are exposed as untrue, and transformed into something wholly better. And in doing, may our vision of King and His Kingdom be cleared up!

Love you, faith family! God bless.

Little Visions Along the Way

Dear Faith Family,

Tomorrow officially begins the season of Epiphany. Once again, as we enter once more a new year together, Epiphanytide provides our faith family an opportunity to shine a fresh light on the grace and truth of God with us and God for us, God in us and His light shining through us to neighbor, co-worker, friend, and family.

Being a pastor/teacher, this is a season I get really excited about! For me, some of the most enlightening scriptures have been the stories Jesus tells about life with God, more commonly known as parables of the kingdom. Starting this Sunday, we'll spend the first month of 2022 immersing ourselves in the Kingdom Epiphanies found in some of Jesus' most profound stories told with intent! Each week, expecting to be enlightened, to see with greater clarity and amazement and conviction and application, the nature of the King, His kingdom, and our place within, on earth, in Dallas, as it is in heaven! 

As enthused and expectant as I am for our time together in Jesus' parables (which you can jump into with me in the days between Sundays by clicking here!), the glory of Jesus' person and work is that in dozens of ways, each new day on life's road offers us little epiphanies, glimpses of the revelation of the grace and truth of God with us. Yet these epiphanies often rush by like images from a train window. 

For a brief time, I worked for an organization in England, and while there, my only modes of transportation were feet and trains. While I enjoyed walking, I loved taking the train! Observing the world through the window of a train is a paradoxical wonder. On the one hand, you are moving so quickly that life seems to be passing like a blur but at the same time, freed from the responsibility of movement, you have these extended and detailed glimpses of life in the world that you'd otherwise miss.

In many ways, this is how you and I traverse our days. Going here and there at such speed that any vision of the landscape we inhabit feels obscured and short-lived. And yet, like passengers on the train, we have both the leisure and the window from which to be enlightened to the wonder all around.

In her poem "Rocky Moutain Railroad, Epiphany," Luci Shaw aptly captures the experience of our daily travel through life in a way I think is most helpful. See if you agree, as we picture ourselves together looking out on the world from the train with...

The steel rails paralleling the river as we penetrate
ranges of pleated slopes and crests -- all too complicated
for capture in a net of words. In this showing, the train window

is a lens for an alternate reality -- the sky lifts and the light forms
shadows of unstudied intricacy. The multiple colors of snow
in the dimpled fresh fall. Boulders like white breasts. Edges

blunted with snow. My open-window mind is too little for
this landscape. I long for each sweep of view to toss off
a sliver, imbed it in my brain so that it will flash

and flash again its unrepeatable views. Inches. Angles.
Niches. Two eagles. A black crow. Skeletal twigs' notched
chalices for snow. Reaches of peak above peak beyond peak

Next to the track the low sun burns the silver birches into
brass candles. And always the flow of the companion river's cord of silk links the valleys together with the probability

of continuing revelation. I mind-freeze for the future this day's worth of disclosure. Through the glass the epiphanies reel me in, absorbed, enlightened.

As we travel through life with Jesus, the question is not if we will experience "continuing revelation...too complicated to capture in a net of words" but how our "too little...open-window" minds can retain even "a sliver" of the "unrepeatable views." The real question is, "how can we live from" such revelations in the ordinary, "draw from them, return to them," letting these little epiphanies shape and (re)shape our lives?

Our faith history has an answer for that: Recollective Prayer. Simply put, recollective prayer is the habit of calling to mind God's presence to us and our presence in Jesus. Historically these regular timed prayers are just short (30 seconds to 1 minute) voicings of what we see when we look out the window of the train. Or, in Luci Shaw's words, recollected prayers are a "mind-freeze for the future this day's worth of disclosure."

Traditionally, recollected prayers take place three times a day and consist of a few moments of letting your soul rest in the truth and grace that you are--in that very moment--in God's Kingdom. For those of us to whom this habit is new or still developing, we suggest that you start by setting three alarms on your phone (for example, 9 am, noon & 3 pm).

When your alarm goes off:

• Take a deep breath...

• Pray, "Your kingdom has come; your will is being done, here, right now, as it is in heaven."

• Then spend a few moments (seconds even) briefly looking over your day and voicing what the Spirit brings to sight.

That’s it! A few moments a few times a day, to be reeled in by the little epiphanies and enlightened to God with us, God for us, God in us.

Praying that 2022 will be a year of clear sight and faithful following. Love you, faith family! God bless.

Ringing Out the Old...Ringing In the New!

Dear Faith Family,

Tomorrow, 2021, draws to a close. For many, we entered this year hoping, even expecting, better than the year that proceeded. How could it not be, right?! 

And yet we discovered, as is often the case, that the calendar's turning is no guarantee that change is coming or for good. Indeed, many wondrous and beautiful things in the year behind us were worth celebrating and praising. Still, we cannot deny that there has also been loss, sickness, strife, and all the ills plaguing our human condition. I suspect the same can be said for many past years and will be repeated in years ahead.

So what are we to do? As our brother Peter reminded us this year, rather than judge the past and predict the future by the tally of wins and losses, we are to be caught up in "a living hope."  We are to live as ones who "count the patience of our Father as salvation,"  living "at peace" amind the mixture of praises and laments—knowing that at the turn of each year, of each day truly, we awake afresh into the surity of sin and death's final days. So, with confident hope, we can ring out the old that is passing away and ring in the new that will be forever. 

And so, that is what we will do, ring out the old and ring in the new! Doing so as we pray together this poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson.  A poem that can be prayed over and over until the new that is Christ in us, through us, and for us and neighbor is all that is left. 

Love you, faith family! Happy New Year, and God bless. 

In Memoriam CVI | Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night; 
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. 

Ring out the old, ring in the new, 
Ring, happy bells, across the snow: 
The year is going, let him go; 
Ring out the false, ring in the true. 

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that here we see no more; 
Ring out the feud of rich and poor, 
Ring in redress to all mankind. 

Ring out a slowly dying cause, 
And ancient forms of party strife; 
Ring in the nobler modes of life, 
With sweeter manners, purer laws. 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times; 
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes 
But ring the fuller minstrel in. 

Ring out false pride in place and blood, 
The civic slander and the spite; 
Ring in the love of truth and right, 
Ring in the common love of good. 

Ring out old shapes of foul disease; 
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; 
Ring out the thousand wars of old; 
Ring in the thousand years of peace. 

Ring in the valiant man and free, 
The larger heart, the kindlier hand; 
Ring out the darkness of the land, 
Ring in the Christ that is to be.