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. 

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.