A Pentecost Church Apology

Dear World,

Today we celebrate the birth of the church. Around 2000 years ago people from all around the known world at that time (Asia, Africa, Europe) were gathered for the Jewish festival of Pentecost. God poured out His spirit on a group of people who were followers of Jesus. They began to speak in the languages of the people gathered there. The apostle Peter spoke to the confused crowd of onlookers, explaining that what was happening was foretold by the prophet Joel hundreds of years before. Three thousand people decided to become disciples of Jesus that day. And they stayed in the city and spent time together every day, in worship, praying and eating meals. What they had as a church at the beginning makes me envious. But I would also be a bit apprehensive of being in a similar situation. They shared everything they had, they gave a lot (sometimes all) of their money and possessions away to help the poor, and they knew each other intimately. I'm not sure I could do that, honestly.

So with that the church began and continued, spreading and growing through history. It's not an illustrious history, of course. There are plenty of shameful moments. They still happen, unfortunately. We in the church can be our biggest hindrance.

It's to be expected, I suppose. Though we follow God, we're still sinners who make stupid, selfish choices sometimes. I've made stupid, selfish choices in my life as a follower of Jesus...as a minister and leader in the church. I'm not proud of them. But God still loves me and offers forgiveness.

I think that first church on Pentecost holds some good pointers for us today, that if we try a little harder to follow, maybe you'll see us as a positive source for change and for good in the world.

1. More Diversity. It has been said that Sunday morning is the most segregated time in the week. This saddens me. I understand it--we're most comfortable with people like us. But the early church was comprised of people from every known continent. Africa. Asia. Europe. All together.

2. Gender Equality. When Peter explained what was happening by quoting from the prophet Joel, he mentioned that God's Spirit was to be poured out on all people--men and women alike. I don't see that God pours out His Spirit more on one gender than the other. His Spirit is His Spirit. With it men and women (all people) are equipped to do God's work. Just as the American workplace still has a way to go to overcome issues with gender equality, so does the church.

3. Intentional Community. People were in Jerusalem from all over the world. Those that witnessed the pouring out of the Spirit on Pentecost stayed. They spent time together every day. Meals were central to their fellowship. Too often today we go home after church on Sunday and have little contact with our faith community during the week. We need each other.

4. The Holy Spirit. Pentecost changed from a Jewish festival to a Christian holy day. It emphasizes that God has now chosen to dwell within us through His Holy Spirit. I don't fully get the Holy Spirit. It's a bit of a mystery at times. But I know that God is with us and in us and empowers us to do His will. Not our wills, but His.

Forgive us, world, for not always doing well at these things. We'll still have our failures, but we'll have some great successes, too. Give us some grace. Listen to our stories. God can do some amazing things. And He utilizes failures like us to do so. Is it His best move? Maybe not, but if He can utilize failures, then we've all got a chance and being part of something big.

Sincerely,

A Failure

Sunday Night Musing: Resurrection

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26, NIV)

This was the last of the "I am" statements of Jesus that we've looked at during church during Lent (and today's culmination of Lent with Resurrection Sunday).

It's not a typical statement. Most of Jesus' other "I am" statements were metaphorical ("I am the bread of life," "I am the light of the world," "I am the vine"). This one isn't. It's a statement of fact. Well, either you believe it's fact, or that Jesus was just a crazy man.

The fact that we celebrate His own resurrection 2000 years later convinces me that He wasn't crazy.
He spoke these words to Martha. Yes, that Martha. The one who was busy with all the housework and food preparation while Jesus was visiting her home. The one who was indignant for her sister for sitting and listening to Jesus rather than helping out.

Martha and Mary's brother, Lazarus, was dead. They had sent messages to Jesus telling Him that Lazarus was sick, but Jesus took His time in returning to their home. He does this on purpose. He could get there in time and save Lazarus. But Jesus believes God wants to use this moment for His glory.

A couple of centuries ago and more it was common practice to bury corpses with a fail safe. Medical knowledge hadn't gotten to a point where there was certainty in death. It wasn't unheard of for a dead body to turn out not to be dead. So strings were placed in the coffin attached to bells above ground so that if the person turned out to be alive, they could make themselves known.

Lazarus had already been dead for four days. There was an odor in the tomb. He was dead. Martha was upset, yet hopeful when Jesus arrives. Martha has come to know who Jesus is. She understands the power He has. She believes He is the Son of God.

Jesus confirms that His power extends over life and death. He proves this by bringing Lazarus back to life.

Lazarus, however, will still face death some day. He won't live forever.

Jesus, Himself, will provide eternal life. His death changed eternity. The grave no longer had power. Hell no longer had power. Love won. It still wins.

Easter is huge. (Sidenote: I dislike using the word "Easter." It is a meaningless word. We often use the name "Resurrection Sunday" for this day. But while Christmastide lasts for 12 days, Easter lasts for 50. Eastertide is the common name for the next several weeks. Paschaltide is also used, but not as common, unfortunately.) It's bigger than Christmas--theologically, at least.

For much of our culture, today is about candy and other gifts in baskets left by a rabbit. But it's so much more. It's about love and life and the ever after.

My tendency, though, is to make Jesus' statement to Martha about the future. Yes, I believe Jesus is the resurrection and the life, so that means I won't go to Hell when I die.

And while this is true--that my hope is now in Heaven--it's also not the whole picture. I believe it has to have relevance for the here and now.

I still have places of death in my life. I may not be fully aware of what they all are, but they're there. But they don't have to be. Jesus can bring life to those places. Each day I can live with a resurrection attitude--seeking to live life to the fullest, seeking to be a new creation renewed and transformed by the Holy Spirit.

I confess that I'm not great at doing this always. But Jesus offers it to me nonetheless.

He is not dead. He is risen! Alleluia! Love has won.

Sunday Night Musing: Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday. The start of Holy Week. The exultation of a King who will be crucified alongside criminals. He knows this lies ahead of Him, too. I don't think I would have that kind of courage to ride into the town where I was going to be killed. I would be turning and going the other direction.

Of course Jesus is the Son of God. Fully man, yet fully God. Of course, His Spirit lives in those who follow Him, too. So we have access to that same sort of courage. I just know I don't access it enough.

All too often I am trying to rely on my own strength to get me through tough situations. The reality is that I am often displaying my weaknesses in those situations. I'm more likely to avoid a confrontation.

Tonight's "I am" statement of Jesus is a familiar one. It's from John 14:6. "Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me'" (NIV). It's so familiar to many Christians that we don't often hear it fully anymore. Most likely we hear it used for evangelical purposes, telling people that they need Jesus and that no other way is going to get them to Heaven--not Buddah, not a Hindu god, not performing many good deeds.

However, Jesus was talking to His disciples here. He'd raised Lazarus from the dead, entered Jerusalem on a donkey amidst shouts of "Hosanna," and was sharing His last meal with His followers as He told them that His journey was about to end in death. He comforts His disciples, letting them know that He's preparing things in Heaven for them and will return some day. Though He'll be gone, they already know the way. 

And Thomas says that they don't know where He's going, so how can they know the way. This is when Jesus responds letting him know that He is the way, truth, and life. These are words of comfort and compassion. 
 
They're also words of direction. 

I don't need to follow my own way. It won't get me anywhere but in trouble. Jesus is the way. His is the only path I should follow.

I don't need to listen to the lies the world tells me (or that I tell myself). Jesus is the truth. When He calls me His beloved, that's all I need to hear.

I don't need to worry about death. Jesus is the life.  

John 14:6 isn't words to tell people that they need Jesus to get to Heaven. They're words for me--that I need Jesus here in this life.  

Sunday Night Musings: The Vine

The "I am" saying of Jesus we looked at at church tonight was from John 15:5 where Jesus says, "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing" (NIV).

It's a saying I've heard preached on many times. But typically when I hear the passage talked about, the preacher at least indirectly says that I'm an individual branch on the vine. I need to stay grafted to Jesus. He is my source of life. If I'm abiding in Him, I'll do good works (bear much fruit).

These are all good and true ideas. But there's more to the passage than that. When Jesus said "you" He wasn't talking to just one person. It wasn't an individual "you", it was a plural "you all" (or "y'all" depending on where you're from). A grape vine doesn't have just one branch. It has many. 

We all are grafted together onto the true Vine. Jesus is a place of unity. He is the source of life and nourishment for all of us.

Pastor Jan noted tonight how hard that fact is that we're all one in Jesus. Some of those branches are our enemies, because the Vine is all inclusive. The branches include republicans and democrats, socialists and capitalists, the poor and the well-to-do, gay and straight, oppressor and victim, misogynist and feminist, fundamentalist and liberal, male and female, free and slave, those with health care and those without, etc. Jesus welcomes all sinners to abide in Him.

Jesus prayed for the unity of all believers (John 17). We're told that we're one in the Spirit. But often times it feels like the church is more separated and divided than united. 

Ideologies will never unite us. We will only ever be united by the vine: Jesus. Without Him we have nothing in common, we have nothing to unite us. Christ is our point of unity. 

I think what this means is that we as followers of Jesus need to talk less about theology and ideologies and more about what He is doing in our lives. Both our individual lives and our lives together as a community. Therein lies our point of unity. No one can discount what Jesus has done for you or for us. 

Yes, we need theology to help us understand our experiences. We need ideologies to help us guide our desire for justice, righteousness, freedom, and peace. But we won't ever all agree on theology or ideologies. The church, however, can and must agree on Jesus. We must abide in Him solely.

And we must do it together. Not as several vines with one branch on each, but as one vine with many branches. Abiding. Belonging. Connected.

Pastor Jan quoted St. Augustine from his Confessions: "Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Thee." Our hearts are restless looking for connection. We desire a place of belonging.

Sometimes we look for that connection in inappropriate, unhealthy, or unsatisfying places. I know I have. We all want to belong...we've wanted it since we were young children.

There is one place, though, where we can find true connection that will satisfy: The Vine. Christ is our place of belonging. And it is not just belonging to Him, but belonging to Him alongside others to whom we are connected through the Vine. He is the place we abide and can find rest.

Sunday Night Musing: Gates and Sheep

Here was the passage we studied tonight at church:

Therefore Jesus said again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:7-10, NIV)

The first summer I worked at a Bible camp was before my senior year of high school. The theme that summer dealt with sheep, education, and life and was built around the John 10 chapter. John 10:10 was our theme verse. I still remember it (with the actions we taught the campers). It was a central verse in my book.

John 10 also includes the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. It's a complicated chapter with a few different metaphors: Jesus as the Gate, and Jesus as the Good Shepherd. I read once (or heard in a lesson or something) that there could be a combined reason for that. I haven't done much research on this to verify facts, but I heard that the sheep fold didn't have a physical gate that shut the opening back in those times. The shepherd would lay across the opening so that sheep couldn't get out without his knowing. Thus the shepherd would also be the gate.


Most likely though, Jesus was just acknowledging that He has many roles, and both of the metaphors applied to Him. He is the Good Shepherd who calls His sheep (I'm told that the sheep would be separated after being in a fold together by their own shepherd calling them--they knew their particular shepherd's voice and would go to him).


He is also the Gate (admittedly, not a metaphor or name of Jesus we use too often). In the passage above, Jesus says that the gate is the way to salvation. The gate would be the entrance to the boundaries that separated the fold from the pasture. The pasture is the place where the sheep spend their day. They graze and drink and socialize as only sheep can do. There are dangers in the pasture, though. Wild animals. Cliffs, caves, and other landforms that can cause injury or where sheep can get lost.


The fold was a secure place of rest. All the sheep were gathered in one place. The shepherds knew clearly where each sheep was and that they were accounted for. They watched over them through the night and kept them safe.


We heard the idea tonight about the importance going to Jesus for rest. Sabbath isn't something we (I) tend to do well. And I don't think it's just about one day of the week. Maybe part of the gate metaphor is that Jesus offers us a place of peace, safety, and rest. That's exactly what I need during my intense weeks quite often, but I seldom remember to go to Him for rest.


So that's what I'm working on: not getting buried in frustrations or stress or other issues that come my way, but to remember the Gate. To pray for the things that come up, to give thanks, to find peace in Christ.


So, in looking at the Lenten question of "Who is Christ?"I think tonight I've been reminded that He is a place of security and rest. Those are two things I generally need during each week--each day even.

Sunday Musings: Light and Darkness

Our lenten scriptures at church are taking us through the Gospel of John. The phrase, "Who is Jesus?" provides our framework as we're reading through passages in which Jesus often says, "I am..."

Last week we looked at Jesus' saying, "I am the Bread of Life." Jesus is nourishment.

Tonight's passage was John 8:12. "When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life'” (NIV).

As a child--as with most children--I wasn't always the fondest of darkness. My imagination would go to places of fear. Mostly because of the unknown in the darkness. You can't see what's there. I could imagine things being there weren't even real. 

I'm going to admit that even as an adult that sometimes happens still. Last fall I was out camping by myself in a state forest. No one else was around me within several campsites. I was sitting around the campfire in the dark. I had been doing some reading and journaling and my lantern's batteries were dying. Wolves had been howling off in the distance. When I heard a noise that sounded like it was right next to me, I freaked out. It was probably a squirrel or a raccoon. It was probably some distance from me. But at the moment, in my mind, a wolf was right there next to me. When I am alone the darkness is intensified.

Of course darkness is also a place of fun. As I grew older I enjoyed playing games like Ghosts in the Graveyard, Hide and Seek, or Sardines. The darkness hides and conceals which are useful for some of those games. 

Darkness induces blindness--at least temporarily until one's eyes adjust. Darkness hides; it hides you from being seen and it hides other things from being seen by you. Darkness is a place of fear, lies, shame, fear, and death. Darkness happens when a light source is taken away. It happens when something comes between you and the light. Darkness happens when you distance yourself from the light.

Light illuminates. It expels the darkness. Lights gives life--without it nothing could grow. In the light we can see. Light shows what is real, what is true. It exposes and frees. 


The darkness is a place where I say, "I am not good enough." "I am not a good enough husband." "I am not successful enough." "I am not..."

Jesus says, "I am the Light of the World." "I am life." "I am truth." "I am the way."

In Jesus' words and claims we find that there is grace in the light. As it exposes what was in darkness it helps us see the truth.We discover that though we are sinners, we are saved. Though we sometimes go astray, we have a Father who always welcomes us back with wide-open loving arms.

The hard part of what Jesus says is, "Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness." I feel like that means that there shouldn't be any darkness in my life when I follow Him. And I know there is. I know there are still dark areas in my soul. And I can choose to live in the shame of that darkness or to ask the light to come pouring in and illuminate those areas.

But it's not easy. As we already discussed, darkness is a place of fear. Though we want the light, we are also afraid of the things it might expose. At least I am. But that's shame and fear talking. Those things don't exist in the light. The light is a place of truth, grace, and life.

So I cautiously and sometimes hesitantly pray that the light will continue to expel the darkness and shine on those areas in my life that may still try to hide in darkness like a game of Ghosts in the Graveyard.

But after coming through a long, dreary winter, I am excited about the longer daylight hours that come with spring. I am excited about the warmer temperatures. I know that light is good. So shine on, Jesus. Shine on in my life. Just maybe not all at once...I may need time for my eyes to adjust.

Sunday Night Musings: Hope Sunday

Last night at church was Hope Sunday. Covenant churches are encouraged to choose one Sunday to designate as a Hope Sunday for Covenant Kids Congo (partnered with World Vision). The Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire) was one of the first mission fields of the Evangelical Covenant Church (and its parent church in Sweden). The church there has flourished, despite civil wars and oppressive conditions (or maybe because of them?). In fact, the Covenant church in the Congo is larger than it is in North America.

But the Congo is currently one of the poorest nations in the world. AIDS and other diseases that claim the lives of too many are common place. Therefore, so are orphans. Many children lack education because they spend most of their day walking to get water for their family. Water that is often dirty and filled with bacteria that ends up making those same children sick.

So part of Hope Sunday is awareness of those things that are going on in the Congo. It also encourages families to prayerfully consider sponsoring a child in the Congo for $40 a month that helps the child's village develop through clean water, agriculture, and educational improvements.

We heard a message given by Richard Stearns, President of World Vision US, lat night as well. He acknowledge that often it is overwhelming, even paralyzing, when we look at all the need, injustice, and poverty in the world. The world has so much need that we feel like we as an individual can't make a difference. And maybe we can't change the world, but we can change the world for one person.

I confess that I feel guilty that we financially can't sponsor a child well right now like we have in the past. That'll probably change once my wife is done with her doctorate, but right now we're on a tight budget. So it's not easy to see those faces and not be able to help them. But I don't have to send money to the other side of the world to make a difference. I can bring hope to my neighborhood. I can bring hope to the children I work with at school. Maybe I'm not able to provide them a warm meal or needed clothes, but even a kind word can make a difference. Giving them my time can make a difference.

We heard the Scripture passage from Matthew 25 where Jesus separates the sheep from the goats based on who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and visited the imprisoned. Sometimes I feel guilty and scared when I read or hear that passage. I feel like I pass up opportunities to help those in need too often.

I don't think Jesus' point is condemnation, though. I think it is about hope. He reminds us that when we take a moment of our time or use a little of our resources--even if it's giving a cup of water to someone who is thirsty--we're serving Him. We're making a difference in someone's life. We're having an impact. We're giving hope.

Sunday Night Musings: Flight and Pursuit

Here are Paul's instructions to Timothy that we heard at church last night:

Run from anything that stimulates youthful lusts. Instead, pursue righteous living, faithfulness, love, and peace. Enjoy the companionship of those who call on the Lord with pure hearts.
Again I say, don’t get involved in foolish, ignorant arguments that only start fights. A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, be able to teach, and be patient with difficult people. Gently instruct those who oppose the truth. Perhaps God will change those people’s hearts, and they will learn the truth. Then they will come to their senses and escape from the devil’s trap. For they have been held captive by him to do whatever he wants. (2 Timothy 2:22-26, NLT)

When Paul writes to individuals like Timothy, Titus, and Philemon we get to see a short glimpse into mentoring relationships. Of course, the advice given is not always universal, but it is often helpful.

I appreciate how Paul doesn't simply tell Timothy what to avoid and stay away from, but he also tells him what to pursue instead. There's a contrast between running from and running to, between fleeing and pursuing. He offers good things to fill one's life with instead of just avoiding the bad. (This is the same approach I took in my book Cultural Enslavement: Breaking Free into Abundant Living.)

Flee from the things that stimulate youthful, lustful desires.
Pursue righteousness, faithfulness, love, and peace.
Avoid isolated temptation.
Seek out community.
Escape from foolish arguments, quarreling, the devil's trap, and captivity.
Run toward gentleness, instruction, patience, and the truth.

Again, we don't just run from evil or temptation. That just leaves our heart vulnerable. Instead we pursue godly things.

This, of course, is easier said than done. Simply avoiding is easier than avoiding and pursuing. But simply avoiding also creates a lot more work for us in the long run. Pursuing after something takes determination and perseverance, but it is also rewarding.

So don't just flee, but pursue. And know what you're going to pursue.

Sunday Night Musings: 2 Timothy

Tonight at church we continued in looking at 2 Timothy (1:6-14 tonight). We spent time writing down a person who was influential in our faith--remembering is one of the themes in Timothy. We then shared those in a little more depth with two other people, and ended with sharing the one sentence about the person that we had written down. It was heart-warming to hear the stories. 

Since last Sunday I shared a little about some of those people who were influential in my life. So tonight I thought it would be good for me to reflect on some of the phrases from 2 Timothy 1:6-14 that stuck out to me as the passage was read.

"Fan into flame the gift of God" (1:6, all verses are NIV). This is an interesting thought. I don't know the fullness of what that means, other than the spiritual gifts we receive need to be cultivated, so to speak. They may start as a spark, but with effort they can become a big fire. That only begins when we know our gifts. I admit that I'm not a very good flame-fanner of mine. I need bigger bellows.

"For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline" (1:7). I like this. I don't always live it, but I like it. I can be timid in my faith. Not in a sense of being soft-spoken to others--I don't think that's what this is necessarily referring to--but that I don't live it as boldly as I could. That timidity comes from elsewhere--not from God. I like that his Spirit gives us power, love, and self-discipline. I need those things.

"Join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God" (1:8). This I don't like as much. Suffering is something I'd prefer to enjoy. The call to follow Christ is not a call to a happy, Pleasantville sort of life. There is definitely joy, but there is also the potential of great suffering. This is often neglected by many preachers.

"He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace" (1:9). My salvation is not due to anything I have done. This is very counter-cultural, but in an odd way it is good to know that I'm not good enough. Only God is good enough. I still try sometimes to be a "do-gooder" in order to win His favor. But I don't need to. He already loves me. My good deeds should flow out of Him in my life.

"Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light" (1:10). Being in the season of Epiphany, I like this image of bringing life and immortality to light. I know I've still got dark areas which need life shed on them. I'm thankful for Christ who does that in addition to life and immortality. I also find the thought of bringing those two things to light interesting; we clearly don't understand them fully yet, but Jesus will keep making them clearer.

Sunday Night Musing: Faith Mentoring

Tonight at church we celebrated Epiphany since we missed it last week due to the weather. Again, I love the light breaking into darkness images of Epiphany. Stars hang from the ceiling in our worship space. I love the image of the magi: wise men from various parts of the world who read the signs and came to worship the God who came to earth. And of course I love the manifestation of God becoming one of us in an ungodly way.

In this season of Epiphany we're also going to be going through the book of II Timothy. The apostle Paul writes the letter to Timothy with advice on pastoring a church and encouragement in his faith. In the introduction he also recognizes Timothy's grandmother and mother who instrumental in his faith.

I am mindful of the people who shaped my faith. Some are around, but many have passed away. There were a number of older members of my church growing up who played a part in encouraging me and my walk with Jesus. There was Avery Shold, Clifford Shold, Bill Shold, Arlyn Youngberg, Maurice Peterson and other men with whom I sang in the church choir in my teen years and who taught me songs in Swedish as a child. There were my Sunday School teachers (most of whom I won't remember) including Betty Nordine and Ebba Youngberg. Bible camp was a huge part of my faith formation. The DeVries family were the camp managers when I was young--and I was lucky to stay connected with them as I entered in to camping ministry myself. I remember some of my counselors when I was in grade school: Mark Samuelson, Kyle Welander, John Gambs (who was my counselor several times I believe), and Adrian Wolbrink (who after my first summer at camp sent me a letter later with a card with the "Cross in My Pocket" poem and a little cross to keep in my pocket--that follow-up was special to me at a young age). Though I don't remember the speaker's name, the woman who shared at camp my first summer helped me verbalize my commitment. Each of these people (and many more!) invested a little bit in my life and showed me what faith could look like.

I had a few pastors who were influential, but Dave Wells was the one who taught my confirmation class and encouraged me to think about ministry. I had several good youth group leaders along the way: Robert Johnson, the Sunblads, the Linds, the Kischers. As I grew older our denomination's national youth convention was important to me. I witnessed several thousand other students worshiping God freely without inhibition. Speakers like Tony Campolo and Duffy Robbins challenged my walk. At the end of high school I started spending my summers working at Bible Camp where Joel Rude (with whom I later worked full-time), Dave Cairns, Bruce Peterson and many other staff members encouraged and mentored me.

As I entered college, seminary, ministry, and living as an adult, hundreds of people of been important in my faith walk. I can't even try to name them all: various professors, colleagues in ministry, church members, and friends.

And of course, my family has been the most influential. My great-grandparents, grandparents and parents passed on so much said and unsaid faith as did uncles, aunts, great-uncles and -aunts, and cousins of varying degrees.

I thank God for each of the people (and I know I'm forgetting to name some other mentors) who have played an important role in my faith walk, and for those whom I'm learning from today.

Please share in the comments the names of people who have played an important part in your faith walk. I'd love to hear those stories.

Epiphany

From distant lands they came
Journeying many days and nights
Guided by a star in the sky--
A special star, a sign they
Discovered through their
Astronomical studies.
Wise men: magi from
Gentile lands bearing
Treasures fit for a king.

For a King He was,
Thought not as any expected.
Not born in a palace warm,
But without even a room.
Laid for warmth amongst
The rough straw in the manger
Where the livestock fed.
Surrounded by shepherds
Rather than royal knaves.

A King like no other:
Coming to free the prisoner,
Bring justice to the oppressed,
Give sight to the blind,
And love to all who would
Have them as their Lord.
One who rules from a
Heavenly throne yet walks
Amongst the leper and whore.

What treasure can I give?
I have no gold or silver;
I lack precious incense
Or embalming oil.
And would I readily give
What I do have?
My money? My time?
My heart? My life?
These I shall try to give

To the One who alone
Is worthy of my worship;
To the one who came
To save the lost and forsaken--
People like me in need
Of a Savior, in need of
Love, in need of forgiveness.
What He has given me,
I shall return through worship.

* * * * * * *

Church was cancelled tonight because of the extreme cold in Minnesota (the Governor called off all school across the state tomorrow). Still, I wanted to be there. It's Epiphany, and I wanted to be at church for it, not at home. So I thought I'd draw and reflect upon the holy day at least.

We don't know how many magi there were. We number them three because of the gifts. The truth is there could have been more. They might not have even been all men for all we know. We don't know where they were from other than that they followed the star from the East (or the star was in the east--some translations don't make that very clear even.

Traditionally the three are given names: Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar. They are often depicted as being from Africa, Asia, and the Middle East (or Persia, India, and Arabia--do a wikipedia search if you're interested in finding out more about what the church has historically believed about the magi). It's unlikely that they were from differing continents; Matthew 2 makes it sound like they came from the same country. But if I'm going to depict the traditional three magi, I like the thought of making them from a variety of places.

They were likely the first Gentiles to come and worship the Jewish child (Jesus wasn't likely a baby nor in a stable--the text says they went to a home). This is significant. The Christ-child wasn't merely to be worshiped by His own people as many thought the Messiah should be, but by all people. Even those who maybe had no concept of the Hebrew God or the stories and laws of the Torah.

Despite all we don't know about these astronomers, we do know what they did. They came and worshiped Jesus. They brought Him gifts of significance. They knelt before Him.

These are things you and I can do. These are the actions that make us wise like them.

Sunday Night Musings: Christ the king

What's there to say about Christ the King Sunday that I haven't said the past few years? Mainly, it's that I don't have it down yet. Each day there are plenty areas of my life that I need to keep surrendering to the lordship of Christ. There are plenty of areas of my life that I think I should retain lordship of for some reason. Like I know how to do things better than God does. Like my way ends up turning out so well.

Needless to say (but I will anyway), He does know better than I do. He does things with love, wisdom, and justice. And besides, being His follower means that I don't do what I want to do unless it's what He wants me to do. Not that I'm a mindless robot or that He's a puppet master. But I turn my will over to Him because He loves me and I love Him. It doesn't mean I don't think for myself or have any say in things (why else would we pray?), but that I put all areas of my life under His lordship. Everything I have is His anyway...why not let Him use it for His glory? Why not let Him multiply the blessings?

So each day I try and remember to surrender my will to Jesus, to lay my crown down before Him. It's not easy. I need to keep it in check.

Years ago at a youth conference I was with a group of students at Candi Pearson from Passion taught us her song, "Sing to the King." The video below is from a different gathering, but the song still says the things I need to remember:

Come, let us sing a song:
A song declaring that we belong to Jesus;
He is all we need.

Sunday Night Musings: Stories

Unless your church is into Left Behind books and such, we don't tend to talk about the end times much--other than that we know Jesus will return. We especially tend to gloss over that discussion when it involves mentioning that believers will be persecuted in the last days, like tonight's passage, Luke 21:5-19, briefly mentions.

It wasn't our focus at church tonight. Which is fine. But I think our churches in the West tend to gloss over those passages because they're not a reality for us. And we can say that's the blessing of the freedoms we have in our part of the world--which is true--but I wonder if it's also because we're not living out our faith that boldly. We don't have to. We like to think of ourselves as a "Christian nation."

We also tend to not want to rock the boat. We tend to think of issues of justice as either the government's job or the church's job, but not ours. We tend to not be very radical in our love for others--at least not in the way Jesus radically loved. We sometimes like our Christianity to be safe, accompanied by a security of knowing that we'll escape hell.

I know this is sometimes true for me. I like to keep my faith safe so that others won't judge me or think I'm a religious freak.  So I think this is our cultural challenge: to live more like Jesus lived. Radically loving.

*gets off soapbox

Jesus says that His followers will be put on trial someday, but not to worry. "This will be your opportunity—your opportunity to tell your story" (Luke 21:13, The Voice). We focused on that tonight at church. 

Jesus encourages us to "stand firm, and you will win life" (21:19, NIV). We discussed tonight how stories bolster us for standing firm. During the infant years of the church, they didn't have sermons in their worship times; they told stories. Everything was passed down by oral tradition. Only the scribes had the Scriptures written down. 

So tonight we told some stories. They reminded us of God's faithfulness. They helped us to recognize the people God used to minister to us unexpectedly when we were in need. They connected us to others. They opened our eyes. 

Stories are good. We don't share ours enough. 

I remember a time several years ago when I was working at Twin Lakes Christian Center. I was putting on a winter retreat for jr. high and high school students and I needed volunteer counselors for the cabins. It was my responsibility for every retreat and camp I programmed to make sure we had all the volunteers and staff we needed. At this retreat a former camper and summer staffer brought a group of friends up from the college he was attending. It was a huge help.

One of the times before free time started, I was showing a group of them how to load up campers on wooden toboggans and send them down the toboggan chute we had that went out onto the frozen lake. While the five of us were standing in the wooden "silo" that sheltered the top of the chute, one of the college students asked about our stories. 

So we took turns sharing a brief recounting of how we came to know Jesus. I can't remember any of the specific people who were there with me or their specific stories, but I remember the sacredness of that moment. 

We were each encouraged. We were each strengthened in our faith. We were each reminded of why we were doing what we were doing. 

Today at church, the leader for our story activity shared how each time when we gather together at the beginning of our evening and circle up for a prayer before we eat, she is bolstered by the fact that she knows each of our stories. We are connected. We are testimonies to what God can and does do.

Stories are good. We need to share ours more.

Sunday Night Musing: The Sadducees' Question

When I hear the scripture at church and the subsequent passage, I try to ask, "So what?" So what does that passage mean for my life? Sometimes that's obvious: "Love your neighbor." Yes, I may need to take the extra effort to do that and figure out what that looks like in my particular context, but I get that my response from the passage would be to go and actually love my neighbors--not just stare at them from behind curtained windows. 

That's my whole goal for encountering God's word through sermons--to figure out what it means for my life. I believe they're transforming words--not just good teachings. Often in Jesus' teachings it's not to difficult to see where my life needs to be transformed by His words. Sometimes it's not so easy.

Like tonight's passage (Luke 20:27-38). A group of Sadducees approach Jesus. They happen to be a Jewish sect at odds with the Pharisees (who were also at odds with Jesus most of the time), especially regarding the afterlife. The Sadducees didn't believe it existed. Death was the end. There were no rewards or punishments for life, just finality. I haven't studied them much, but it seems that they come to Jesus to know if He's on their side or the Pharisees' side.

So they tell Him a story: Supposing there's a man who dies before he has children, and he has six brothers (now in ancient Jewish culture, it was crucial that a man have offspring. If he died before he had any it was his brother's obligation to marry his wife and produce an heir for him. It's a little twisted, I know, but that's how it was). So the next brother marries the woman, but again dies before a child is conceived. So the next brother marries her, but dies, and so on until all seven brothers have been married to this woman at one point or another.

Thinking that this story will entice Jesus to point out the ludicrousness of the notion of an afterlife, they ask Jesus which man will be the woman's husband in the afterlife.

Jesus sets them all straight:

“Marriage is for people here on earth. But in the age to come, those worthy of being raised from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage. And they will never die again. In this respect they will be like angels. They are children of God and children of the resurrection.
“But now, as to whether the dead will be raised—even Moses proved this when he wrote about the burning bush. Long after Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had died, he referred to the Lord as ‘the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.' So he is the God of the living, not the dead, for they are all alive to him.” (Luke 20:34-38)

Jesus gives a new perspective. There is an afterlife and it's not at all how you imagine it will be. Our life here is messed-up and burdened with laws meant to help us find the right path, but the point isn't the laws or our theology--the point is God and life with Him.

Now, this is a good teaching. It's one of the first times in the Bible that we get a little more detail about the afterlife.

But I, along with the majority of Christendom, believe in the afterlife. Two millennia of church doctrine has reinforced it's existence for us.

So what? What does this passage mean for me? How does it transform my life?

I've come up with two thoughts for me:

1. That it isn't good to spend too much time thinking about proper doctrine and codes of conduct. That was where the Sadducees were at. They wanted what they believed to be correct, and they wanted their opposition to be taught a lesson. Now proper doctrine is important, of course. But not for the sake of proving others wrong. It's important for the sake of living it out. It's important for knowing God and how to follow Him.

2. The fact of the afterlife should transform my daily living. At least, it seems to me that since there is an afterlife--a Heaven and Hell, a place where we'll spend eternity, judgment and an ever-after with God--that my daily life should be influenced by that thought. Not that I live a good life to be rewarded, but that I live knowing that the messiness of life now is not how it's supposed to be. Knowing that the pain and suffering will end and one day everything will be set right.

I can react differently when an injustice happens to me because I know it's not the end. I see the student at school who is being mean to another student differently because I know she has a soul meant for eternity with God--instead of being angry at her, I can find out what's troubling her. I don't always think this way, of course, but the passage helps remind me of this. I guess that's the "so what?" for me.

Sunday Night Musings: Wee Little Men

Sometimes there a Bible stories that I have heard from childhood that I know well, but I don't know what to do with them. Tonight's passage was from Luke 19:1-10: the story of Zacchaeus. By now you may have the Sunday School song going through your head ("Zacchaeus was a wee little man..."), but if you don't, let me give you a quick refresher:

Zacchaeus, a tax collector (hated by the Jews, considered traitors with the Romans), heard that Jesus was in town (Jericho) and wanted to see him. He was of short-stature, however, and couldn't see Jesus through the crowd, so he climbed up in a sycamore tree. Jesus sees him, stops, and tells him to come down because Jesus is going to Zacchaeus house. The crowd begins to murmur at the thought of Jesus eating at a sinner's house (gasp!). Hearing them, Zacchaeus declares that he is giving up half his possessions to the poor and will give anyone whom he has cheated four times the amount in return. Jesus said, “Today is salvation day in this home! Here he is: Zacchaeus, son of Abraham! For the Son of Man came to find and restore the lost" (vs 9-10, The Message). 

So we know that Zacchaeus is a sinner (who isn't!). He wants to see Jesus (good for him). Jesus assertively invites Himself over to Zacchaeus' house (so we learn Jesus isn't a passive Scandinavian). The crowd is upset (after all, God should only be concerned with religious do-gooders, right?). Zacchaeus repents and says he'll make amends (a great example). Jesus declares that Zacchaeus has found salvation. It's a good story. A sinner finds redemption. I just don't always get what it has to do for me in the here and now. 
 
As we talked about the story tonight, however, I think part of what I need to hear is the reminder that assertive Jesus comes to seek the lost. And let's face it, there are a number of times in life when I'm lost. I need Him seeking me.

I think my religious upbringing sometimes hinders me here, though. My Protestant work ethic sometimes gets in the way of letting Jesus seek me. I think I must work, work, work, do, do, do in order for me to be found. And yes, Zacchaeus makes the effort to climb the tree. But that's all he needs to do--to place himself in a position to be found. Sometimes my doing--even good, religious activities--gets in the way of that happening.

I also grew up knowing that God is omnipresent. He's everywhere. This knowledge can cause me to swing between to extremes: 1) I ignore that knowledge and act as if He isn't present, or 2) I take His presence for granted thinking that because He's present, I don't need to let Him find me. 

The Zacchaeus story reminds me to be mindful of the posture I have with Jesus. Am I willing to do something ridiculous like climb a tree with a crowd around in order to see Jesus? Do I place myself in a position to be found? Do I notice when He stops and calls to me?

I, too, am a wee little man. Maybe not in stature (thought compared to my college roommates I was), but spiritually I am. I can't always see Jesus in my day. I want to. Or at least I want to want to. 

It's good to know that He's seeking me out.

Sunday Night Musing: Humility & Prayer

The boys and I were in Iowa this weekend for a wedding. It was the daughter of one of the people I worked with at camp for almost five years. Most of the other camp friends were there as well. Of course, there isn't a lot of catch-up time at a wedding, but it was fun to see everyone.

They didn't remember most of the people (other than the few whom we had seen in the past year and a half). The boys and I drove around the camp on our way back to my parents' house. They didn't remember living there (of course Nils was just a few months old when we lived there). Anders commented on how it would be fun to live there. Sometimes I wish we still were. Sometimes. I loved the ministry. The hours made it hard to do with family.

We also stayed this morning and went to church with my parents. It's been a while since I've been to the church I grew up in. I enjoyed seeing the people who were there when I was growing up; it was also enjoyable to see people who were children when I left home now leading worship.

The guest preacher preached the lectionary text from Luke 18:9-14 (which was nice because we didn't end up making it back home to church in time). In the text Jesus tells His disciples a story about two men who are at the Temple praying. One was a religious scholar--the looked-up-to guys who make the rules about how to follow the Law; the other was a tax collector--the hated collaborator of the Romans.

The Pharisee stands where everyone can see him, praying out loud (the text says to/about himself rather than praying to God). He is thankful--thankful that he isn't like sinners. He lifts himself up by stepping on the backs of those whom he looks down upon. He justifies himself through his actions.

The tax collector stands meekly aside, not able to even lift his head up. He beats his chest before God, saying a short, seven-word prayer: "God, have mercy on me, a sinner." He acknowledges his place before God, and pleads for mercy.

Prayer is not a place of self-promotion. It is not about elevating ourselves and putting others down. It's not about justifying ourselves through our actions.

Prayer is about a relationship with God. It is acknowledging our place before Him. It acknowledges His Lordship and that He is the one who justifies us.

It's a good reminder that prayer doesn't need to be lengthy or eloquent. It's a simple act that flows out of a sincere heart.

It's also a good reminder that I need to do it more. And saying "God, have mercy on me, a sinner," is a good place to start. Even just simply "Lord, have mercy." Those three words cover a multitude of situations: during a stressful time at work, while the neighbor is yelling at her kids, when a friend is hurting, when I'm a sinner in need of grace. In short: all the time.

Lord, have mercy.

Sunday Night Musing: Persistent Widows

In Luke 18:1-9 Jesus tells this story that is often labeled "The Persistent Widow" or "The Unjust Judge." In the parable a widow comes to a judge to ask for justice with some unfair dealings that have happened to her. She keeps asking him for justice against her adversary. Over and over again. The judge admits to being godless and not caring what other people think. Eventually, however, despite his lack of sympathy, empathy, compassion, or justice, he gives in. Her persistence has worn him down. He can't take any more of her, so he gives her justice. Most likely the story should be titled "The Annoying Woman and the Jerk of a Judge," but it's not (it's only Bible publishers that title the sections--they weren't originally there of course).

We're told at the beginning of the passage that Jesus told His disciples this story "to show them that they should always pray and not give up" (Luke 18:1). It's always nice to know the actual intent of a parable. We are to pray often and not give up. And our persistent prayers should be seeking justice it seems.

We're also told that God is not like the judge. He's not uncaring or unjust. He's loving and righteous. 

"And will not God bring about justice for His chosen ones, who cry out to Him day and night? Will He keep putting them off? I tell you, He will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?” (Luke 18:8-9). 

Jesus is concerned that when He returns, He won't find faithful people--people praying persistently. Ouch. I see the finger pointing at me. I fail here. 

A) I don't pray persistently.
B) I don't pray persistently about issues of justice.
C) When I do pray persistently it's usually about me (mostly along the lines of "I want to get over this cold" or "Let today go well").
D) I don't pray persistently.

Now, Jesus taught this, I do believe, not to shame or point fingers, but to encourage His followers. God does want to bring justice for His chosen. Seeking justice is a good thing; I will try to be more faithful. 

Orphans, widows, the imprisoned, the homeless, those going through foreclosure, those in war-torn areas, the persecuted, the oppressed, the immigrant, those discriminated against, the hungry, those with sickness and disease. These are all people who need justice. I can be an instrument to help bring that about. Actions are good; prayer is the first step, though.

Sunday Night Musing: Thankful Lepers

In Luke 17:11-19 we hear the story of 10 lepers living on the border region between Samaria and Galilee. It's kind of a line of demarcation between two bitter enemies, each considering the other to be outcasts. And this group of lepers were outcasts of outcasts.

They approach Jesus and ask to be healed. Jesus tells them to go see the priest (a requirement to prove cleanliness for being able to be in society as well as worship after being "unclean"). They go. Then they are healed. It's an interested sequence of events. They are healed after they obey Jesus.

One of them notices that he was healed and turns back. He happens to be a Samaritan (ie. "the bad guy"). He falls at Jesus' feet and praises God. Jesus tells him that his faith has saved him (some translations use "healed" but I'm told the Greek word is more than just a physical healing).

I've written before about a former mentor's quote: "Gratitude evaporates frustration."

I think we could also add: "Gratitude propels blessings."

When we give thanks, it opens our hearts. We become aware of the blessings around us. I think there may be occasions where it also places us in positions to receive fuller blessing. All ten were healed. Only one was saved.

We try and make it a practice each day to reflect on what we're thankful for with our children. I don't do it enough during the day, though. And I tend to look at the surface level: Thank You for the nice weather, for our food, for our home, for our family, etc.

Sometimes, even in the midst of something amazing like being healed, I can forget to give thanks. Sometimes I can focus on the negative in an event and forget to give thanks for the positive that also happened.

The one who came back didn't just say thanks in his heart; he said it out loud amidst a flurry of worship. So I'm trying to let the Samaritan remind me to give thanks more, and also to pray for mercy. Both are good. Both are needed.

* * * * *

How about you? What are you thankful for? I'd love for the comment thread on this post to be a place to list our thanksgivings.

Sunday Night Musing: Surrender

Tonight we heard the story of Lazarus and the rich man. Sometimes I just want to hear about how the Scripture applies to my life, telling me what to do. Sometimes the debate of commentaries is tiresome. Tonight, my friend Toyna taught on this passage having us think about the places where we don't see the needs of others and how we may use our resources (time, talents, possessions) to help them.

She also shared that there used to be old Jewish folk tales about a rich man and a poor man who die like in the story Jesus tells. But the folk stories have the poor man going back to the living to give the rich man's family a warning about the after life and living well. Jesus, however, doesn't have that happen. He says that the living have the words of Moses and the prophets. If they don't believe them, then they won't believe even when someone rises from the dead. 

Jesus seems to be saying that we have all we need for faith. We've had Him rise from the dead. Even that wasn't enough for everyone to believe. 

Faith isn't about having enough proof. It's about where our heart is. If we're not ready to give up our own will and follow God's, then no amount of proof of His existence will matter. If we're not ready to surrender all to God, faith isn't really attainable.

I'm learning that surrender is a daily thing for me. Just because I gave my life to Christ once (okay, actually several times over the course of several summers at Bible camp), doesn't mean that I'm living like it each moment. Every day I have to choose to follow Jesus over doing what my own will wants to do.

Each morning I try to remember to pray a prayer of surrender. I don't always remember, but I try. Days seem to go a bit better when I do remember.

And while I'm surrendering I'm keeping my eyes open for the people God places in front of me to reach out to in what ever way they need. Or at least I'm trying.

Sunday Night Musing: Shrewdness

The gospel lectionary passage for tonight is from Luke 16:1-13--the Parable of the Shrewd Manager. Go ahead. Click on that link and read it. As Pastor Jan noted, it's not an easy passage. Bible commentators can't agree on what the passage means--what it's real point is.

Basically the steward--the manager of another person's estate--messed up and is getting fired. So he goes out and tells some of the people who owe his employer goods that they should cut their bill in half. He figures that by being shrewd (admittedly an underused word) he'll make friends who will look out for him when he's unemployed.

Jesus gives the story of an example of how we should be with our wealth in the world saying that we should be more like the steward, that people of the world are shrewder in dealing with their own kind than people of the light.

The passage contains some familiar thoughts:

• "Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings."
• “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much."
• “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

It touches on being trustworthy, a good steward, shrewd, forgiving, putting God above all else, using money wisely. And those thoughts all seem to be connected for Luke or Jesus. I think the main thought is about using our money (wealth, possessions, influence, etc.) in ways where we're not hoarding it or making it the main priority in our lives, but that we use wisely and in shrewd ways (which I don't fully understand what that looks like).

So when I reflect on the sermon each Sunday night, I do so not to influence your thinking, but so that I can process God's word and figure out what it means for my life. Tonight I think this passage is helping me remember to be trustworthy in all I do--that the small stuff matters. I think it's also a reminder to be generous. I still struggle with that. I look uncomfortably at the person on the street corner with the sign saying they're homeless, and I turn my head so they don't see that I've noticed them. I don't know that I'm very good at using the money I have to be generous with my friends very well, either. I can always be better at forgiving those who owe me and not holding grudges or being resentful at those who haven't paid me back. And of course I always need to keep myself in check as to whether God is my priority or if I"m serving something (or someone) else in life.

There's always plenty to work on in my life. I guess I'm learning to be a good and shrewd steward of it. 

I'd love to hear what the passage says to you...