Hope (It’s not New)

I was reading over at Porpoise Diving Life (picking up where purpose-driven peters out), this article about “Faith To confront unprecedented economic times.”

The author quotes Brian McLaren (someone I rarely quote, much less applaud) as saying “Faith involves admitting with humility and boldness that we need to change, to go against the flow, to be different, to face and shine the light on our cherished illusions and prejudices, and to discover new truths that can be liberating even though they may be difficult for the ego, painful to the pride.”

The only improvement I see in the above quote is that the word “new” before “truths” needs to be omitted.

The Bible, I believe, portrays faith, hope and love as the primaries of the Christian faith. Just as all colors are unique combinations of the three primary colors (red, blue, yellow–if you are speaking of pigments) and all shapes are unique combinations of the three primary shapes (line, triangle circle), Christians are all combinations of the three primaries of Christianity–faith, hope and love.

Defining the place of love is fairly easy because Jesus defines it for us–we are known by love. When we stray from this and seek to be known by doctrine, dogma, liturgy, tradition, morality, even faith, etc., we have pitted ourselves against Jesus and cease to be who He has called us to be.

Defining the place of faith is also fairly easy because the Bible has clearly defined it for us in a number of places–we are saved by faith and live by faith.  We are not known by it, but we live by it.

Hope is not so clearly defined. But I believe we are called to be a voice of hope. This not “new.” It is ageless. I am struggling to resist the urge to quote Dickens, mainly because every pastor before me has already done it, but it truly is “the best of times and worst of times” to be the church. Yes, the economy sucks (I know that isn’t biblical terminology, but neither is “shut up.” If you feel the need to comment on my language, “shut up”). We don’t live by and we aren’t known by the economy. However we can be a voice of hope, even if and especially when the economy sucks (see above).

The church being the voice of hope is not a “new truth” that needs to be discovered. It, just like being known by love and living by faith, is an old truth that needs to be reclaimed.

I hope.

Can You Hear God Giggle?

I was searching through some files and came across something I wrote about 4 years ago (in my pre-billablog days). I got a kick out of reading it again and decided it was blog worthy.

Can You Hear God Giggle?

I live in a multi-cultural neighborhood. I am the pastor of a predominantly white church in that neighborhood. So I am always talking about reaching out to our community and making our church look more like our community.

This Sunday I preached on a scripture from Isaiah where God said, “My house shall be called a house a prayer for all nations.” I hit hard on the “all nations” part, and talked about the challenges we face dealing with our own prejudice. I urged the congregation to rethink our attitudes toward people who are different than us.

I preached this message 5 times to 5 different groups of people and filed the sermom away.
And then God sent me an angel named Dale.

I looked out my office window this morning and saw this large, long haired, Native American coming up the church walk. I figured he wanted money. I was wrong. I also figured he was drunk. I was wrong. I also figured I would send him away in less than 5 minutes. I was wrong again. (As you can see, I was really doing a great job of practicing what I preach). Anyway, I took this great Christian attitude and went to meet him at the door.

I said, “Hi, can I help you?” He said, “My name is Dale. I saw your sign and I was wondering if I could talk to you about the Bible.” (And I thought, “and then ask you for money”). I knew that my wife had taken my last 10 bucks out of my wallet this morning, so I didn’t have anything to lose, so I said, “Sure, come on up.”
We went into my office and sat down and he spent the next 90 minutes humbling me and blessing me.
Remember I had just preached a sermon about being welcoming to people who are different? 5 times? Well Dale’s was definitely different. His story is this. He got out of prison Sunday. He was in there for murder two and drug trafficking. He was originally from a reservation in northern Minnesota. His wife was also in prison. His kids were in foster homes. His story is one of abuse and abandonment and getting into drugs and crime at an early age. I listened as he told his story.

He went on to tell me that 9 months ago, he started reading the Bible in prison. Then he started believing it. Then he found a couple of Christians in prison who could tell him more about it.

Then he got to the part about what he wanted from me. (I was still expecting a request for money). He asked for a Bible. He said he had the one from the prison library while he was in prison, but now that he was out, he didn’t have one. I glanced around my office. From where I was sitting, I could see eleven Bibles. Publishers often send them to me. So now I only have 10.

Then he said there was one other thing. I thought, “Here it comes. How much?” He said, “I don’t know anybody I can talk to about the Bible. I had those two guys in prison and they could help me. But now I am looking for a group of people I can talk to about the Bible and who can help me stay straight.” I thought to myself, “I have just the group he is looking for. I have a group of men who meet in my office every Tuesday morning at 6:30 for just this purpose and if I invite him to this group, it is going to go over like a pregnant woman at a pole vault.” So yeah, I invited him. He was thrilled.

Then I brought up the subject that he never did. I said, “Do you have any money?” He had less than a dollar in change. I knew there was some petty cash in the safe that I could pay back later, so I offered him money. He refused, saying “God will take care of me.” I said, “What are you going to eat?” He told me he was going to the food shelf. I explained to him how the food shelf worked–that he had to be able to prove residence in order to get food. He said, “God will take care of me.” I had a whole new outlook on things by this point, so I said, “Yes, He will, and He is going to do it through me.” So we went and got in my car and he got groceries. Before we parted, I got a big, long bear hug from a big, hairy, unwashed Indian.

And I know that in heaven God was saying, “My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.”

And He was laughing at me.

Arrogance is a Child of Ignorance.

I’ll stop short of saying it is an “illegitimate” child. It is most likely quite legitimate.

But why do Americans assume that the best thing we can do for the immigrants who come to our country is Americanize them? Instead of looking at their culture and seeing what we can learn, we immediately assume our way is the best way and force it upon others.

One case in point: We say time is important. It is rude to be late. Many other cultures, including one I am intimately involved with, say time is unlimited. It is rude to start before everyone is there.  Our culture says time is more important than people. Other cultures say people are more important than time.

People are more important. I like that. I am not talking about a People First Language, that my respected friend so rightly mocks. That’s too easy. Like much of well-intentioned political correctness, real improvement goes much deeper. I am talking about a people first approach to life–the kind Jesus had. It puts people above rules, dogma, tradition and culture.

I am sure the Pharisees would hate me for this. But I am in good company.

Go and Make Disciples…

At St. Matthew we are in the process of something called Simple Church–simplifying for the sake of making disciples. It has given me cause to think about what type of disciples we are making. This led me to begin to think about what type of disciples we ourselves are.  I imagine it is a safe bet to say we are going to make disciples that are like us. And that could be a grave mistake.

As we undertake the process of simplifying for the sake of being and making disciples, it is important to step away from what we think we know and look freshly and intently at what it means to be and make disciples. What kind of disciples are we? The answer to that will largely determine what type of disciples we are making. The word disciple in its simplest form simply means a life-long learner. Initially the term disciple referred to anyone following a rabbi or his teachings but gradually evolved to mean something much deeper. The terminology below and much of the research behind it is borrowed from those much smarter than I, namely Dr. Tim E. Miller in his book 30×60x100 and his friend and mentor Herb Hodges. The interpretations of the terms are my own and my mistakes in no way reflect upon the scholarship of these men.

1. The word disciple was originally used for those who were Casual Listeners (Matt. 5:1). This usage referred to the crowds that initially followed Jesus as they would any rabbi. They were simply curious as to what Jesus had to say.

• Matt. 5:1 Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, 2and he began to teach them.
• Today we call these people “seekers.”
• These people often attend church regularly.
• Often we are these people.

2. As the disciples became more interested in what Jesus had to say they became Concerned Listeners (John 3:1-21). Their thoughts may have reflected something like, “If what Jesus is saying is true, then His teachings have profound implications for me.”

• These are people, like Nicodemus, who begin to see power and truth in the words of Jesus and seek to know more.
• These people may begin to attend Bible studies and read the Bible more regularly.
• Often we are these people.

3. As Jesus’ crowd of disciples pondered His words, they would eventually become Convicted Listeners (Mark 10:17-23). These listeners had reached the stage where the Truth was penetrating their hearts and they were convicted of sin and a need to change.

• In today’s terms, these are Christian Believers, convicted not only of sin but also convicted of the power of the death and resurrection of Jesus for their salvation.
• This is where we spend a lot of our spiritual walk. We believe, but don’t wholeheartedly embrace Jesus.
• This is where most Christians, even Christian leaders, are most of the time.
• We like this place because here we can coast.

4. After having been convicted of sin and the need for salvation, the disciples then became Convinced Listeners (Matthew 8:2). These disciples had wholeheartedly embraced the teachings of Jesus as God’s truth. It is important to note that many disciples left Jesus prior to this due to the high costs related to obeying the teachings of Jesus.

• These are people believe that Jesus is exactly who He says He is and can do exactly what He says He can do.
• These people tell others about Jesus and offer themselves to be used by Him.
• We spend far too little of our spiritual walk as disciples here.
• We are uncomfortable in this place and often resist being led there strongly and angrily.

5. The last stage of development in the four Gospels concerning this word disciple refers to those who became Crucified Followers (Luke 14:27). These crucified disciples were those who followed Christ selflessly, abandoning all personal desires, fears, and attachments. These disciples would live and die for the sake of the Kingdom of God. It is precisely to this type of discipleship that Jesus is calling His followers when He states in Luke 9:23, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (TNIV).

• Luke 14:27 And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.
• This is the place to which Jesus is calling us all time, but a place where we rarely go.
• It is only here that we truly move from Listener to Follower.
• This is the place where true joy is found.

Many Christians, including ourselves much of time, are simply content to cling to our doctrines and be saved from hell. However the call to follow Jesus only begins with that. It goes much deeper. It is much more selfless. To teach or to allow believers to stay in a state of spiritual immaturity falls perilously short of the call Jesus has given us to make disciples. This is what we are asking the Holy Spirit to correct in us at St. Matthew Lutheran Church.

Ministering Sub-Culturally

God has put in a place where I have the privilege of ministering among several different culture groups (Sudanese, Liberian, Tibetan and Anglo). Much of my personal study is devoted to learning to minister across cultures. I am part of group (LINC) currently trying to organize our gifts and passions to maximize our effectiveness ministering cross or multi culturally. But I am also part of a weird subculture–unicycling. Like any subculture, we have our own language, our own definition of success, our own acronyms, our own heroes and our own unique gatherings. This past weekend we had one such gathering, Mondo (it could also justifiably called Weirdo), and it got me thinking.

Just as their are many unique cultures in our society where we have unique opportunities to share the Gospel, there are also many unique sub-cultures where the opportunities are just as unique and just as many.

What if there were a group like LINC that sought out Christians in specific sub-cultures and empowered them to share the Gospel in their own unique settings? What if we identified Christian skateboarders, Christian gourmets, Christian stampers, Christian photographers, Christian artists (of all forms), Christian nurses, etc and found ways to gather them and empower them for ministry in their unique settings?

I think it has possibilities.

Interpreting the Language

For my last birthday, my family decided I needed to be brought kicking and screaming into the 21st century. They bought me an IPod. For those who don’t know, an IPod is a device that stores a seemingly unlimited amount of music, movies and pictures. So far I have stored all my favorite CDs (over 200 songs), 250 pictures of my family, and the past 18 weeks of Prairie Home Companion, and it still tells me I have used less than 10% of the storage capacity. It has earphones so that I can listen to the music and a screen so that I can see the pictures or watch movie. It is slightly larger than a business card.

An IPod has only one button. Hence the problem and hence the reason for this message. The button made no sense to me. All of my experience and intuition tell me that a button has two positions-on and off. An IPOD button has 5 positions, plus it turns and scrolls. I did not immediately grasp this (by “immediately,” I mean that it did not happen in the first three hours). The problem was multiplied by the fact that there were no words on the instructions, only pictures.

And then there is the program on my computer that transfers the music, pictures or movies from a CD or the computer onto my IPod. It has very few instructions. Actually, I should say it has very few words. It has lots of symbols. I grew up with words, not symbols. Nothing made immediate (within 3 hours) sense to me. It left me frustrated, angry and feeling far less than intelligent. Plus I had a gift I couldn’t use.

Fortunately, I have more than an IPod. I have 12 and 10 year old sons. They understand the button and the symbols and can teach them to me. The gift only becomes usable because it comes with those who could interpret it into my language.

And isn’t that what mission is–taking the gift of the death and resurrection of Jesus and interpreting it in such a way that it can be made real and usable to those who just don’t get it?

Grace and Peace,

Bill

Psalm 126

I was always perplexed by Psalm 126 until I heard about the Sahel, that vast stretch of savanna more than four thousand miles wide just under the Sahara Desert. In the Sahel, all the moisture comes in a four month period: May, June, July, and August. After that, not a drop of rain falls for eight months. The ground cracks from dryness, and so do your hands and feet. The winds of the Sahara pick up the dust and throw it thousands of feet into the air. It then comes slowly drifting across West Africa as a fine grit. It gets inside your mouth. It gets inside your watch and stops it. The year’s food, of course, must all be grown in those four months. People grow sorghum or milo in small fields.

October and November…these are beautiful months. The granaries are full — the harvest has come. People sing and dance. They eat two meals a day. The sorghum is ground between two stones to make flour and then a mush with the consistency of yesterday’s Cream of Wheat. The sticky mush is eaten hot; they roll it into little balls between their fingers, drop it into a bit of sauce and then pop it into their mouths. The meal lies heavy on their stomachs so they can sleep.

December comes, and the granaries start to recede. Many families omit the morning meal. Certainly by January not one family in fifty is still eating two meals a day. By February, the evening meal diminishes. The meal shrinks even more during March and children succumb to sickness. You don’t stay well on half a meal a day. April is the month that haunts my memory. In it you hear the babies crying in the twilight. Most of the days are passed with only an evening cup of gruel.

Then, inevitably, it happens. A six-or seven-year-old boy comes running to his father one day with sudden excitement. “Daddy! Daddy! We’ve got grain!” he shouts. “Son, you know we haven’t had grain for weeks.” “Yes, we have!” the boy insists. “Out in the hut where we keep the goats — there’s a leather sack hanging up on the wall — I reached up and put my hand down in there — Daddy, there’s grain in there! Give it to Mommy so she can make flour, and tonight our tummies can sleep!”

The father stands motionless. “Son, we can’t do that,” he softly explains. “That’s next year’s seed grain. It’s the only thing between us and starvation. We’re waiting for the rains, and then we must use it.” The rains finally arrive in May, and when they do the young boy watches as his father takes the sack from the wall and does the most unreasonable thing imaginable. Instead of feeding his desperately weakened family, he goes to the field and with tears streaming down his face, he takes the precious seed and throws it away. He scatters it in the dirt! Why? Because he believes in the harvest.

The seed is his; he owns it. He can do anything with it he wants. The act of sowing it hurts so much that he cries. But as the African pastors say when they preach on Psalm 126, “Brother and sisters, this is God’s law of the harvest. Don’t expect to rejoice later on unless you have been willing to sow in tears.” And I want to ask you: How much would it cost you to sow in tears? I don’t mean just giving God something from your abundance, but finding a way to say, “I believe in the harvest, and therefore I will give what makes no sense. The world would call me unreasonable to do this — but I must sow regardless, in order that I may someday celebrate with songs of joy.”
Leadership, 1983.