Monday, July 16, 2012

God Can't Be Tamed

 
"Ooh!" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he -- quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

-C.S. Lewis from The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe


A couple of weeks ago I was at a camp where all heaven literally broke lose.  God showed up in the place in such a tangible way that kids were on the ground sobbing, some were laughing, and some were shaking visibly as they encountered God and just a fraction of His love and power.  To anyone who walked into the room it looked like a bomb had gone off in the place.  My initial reaction was, Oh Crap have we just amped up a bunch of teens into an emotional frenzy, but our speaker was about as low key as they come and had simply invited God’s Spirit to come and touch the teens lives and had instructed a few of the teens to begin to pray for one another.  This is something I’ve done in my ministry tons of times, and there are usually some tears and peace and a real sense of God’s presence; this is what happens most of the time, but there are times when the Spirit shows up in a way that the only way to wrap your mind around it is to think of Pentecost in the book of Acts.  This is not the first time I had seen something like this, but when it happens it is always a little disconcerting.

As a matter of fact I remember my initial reaction to experiencing God’s love and power in a way that was beyond “normal”.  It was my freshman year of college and we liked to go to a church called Aldersgate United Methodist Church in College Station; Aldersgate was just a Vineyard in United Methodist clothing.  That Sunday morning I had come with my best friend Gary Rhom (Gary, you can chime in on this if it stuck in your memory as well) and another good friend named Harold Reeves.  The pastor preached that morning on the filling of the Spirit.  Then he invited us to stand and asked God to fill us a fresh with His Spirit.[1]  Gary, Harold, and I stood up looking around with our eyes as big as saucers.  All I can say is that it was like a physical power entered into the room, the worship band began singing in their prayer languages and this is the only time this has ever happened to me, but in my mind I knew what they were singing.  It was simple praise to Jesus.

After the service was over we almost ran out of the sanctuary to Harold’s truck.  I remember Harold looking over and saying, “What do you guys think?”  I said “I think it was God.” and they shook their heads in affirmation.  Gary asked, “Are you guys going to go back?” and without hesitation we said, “No way!”

So here’s the question, if that experience and the experience at Camp was God, and I believe it was, why would it be so disconcerting; dare I say even a little scary? 

In his book The Silver Chair, C.S. Lewis draws an analogy about God’s character, that I find to be quite profound, with the story of a young girl named Jill. She's in the land of Narnia, and she's thirsty. At once she sees a magnificent stream . . . and a fearsome lion (Aslan, who represents the Lord Jesus):

"If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment," thought Jill. "And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth." Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take her eyes off it. How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the Lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first. . . .

"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I, would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.

The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience. The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.

"Will you promise not to do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.

Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer. "Do you eat girls?" she said.

"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."

"There is no other stream," said the Lion. It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion & no one who had seen his stern face could do that and her mind suddenly made itself up.

It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went straight to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it quenched your thirst at once. Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most dangerous thing of all.

So you’ve heard a little bit about my experience with God and some profound words from one of the great Christian minds of the last century, but does this ring true with scripture?  When people encounter the presence of the living God is it always quite, peaceful, and still?[2]  Let’s look at a few examples from the scripture.  This is not an exhaustive list in any fashion.

Genesis 28:16,17:  Jacob has a dream in which God speaks to him and upon awaking and realizing God just spoke to him he is afraid.

Exodus 3:6: Moses encounters God’s presence in the burning bush and he is afraid.

Exodus 19-20:19:  The presence of God descends on Mt. Sinai is a tangible way.  It scares the people so badly that they are struck trembling and beg Moses to not have God speak to them.

Exodus 34:29-39:  Moses’ face literally glowed after he had been in the presence of the Lord.  The lingering presence of the Lord upon Moses scared the Israelites so much Moses had to veil his face.

Judges 6:20-23: Gideon encounters God and is afraid.

2 Samuel 6:-11: David hears the report of what happens when one of his men touch the Ark of the Covenant and he is so afraid of God’s presence manifest in the ark he won’t let it be brought into Jerusalem.

Isaiah 6:  Isaiah sees a vision of the Lord and cries out in fear and despair.

Luke 1:30:  An Angel appears to Mary and she is afraid.

Luke 2:10: Angels appear to the Shepherds and they are afraid.

Luke 5:1-11:  After Peter’s miraculous catch of fish he falls to his knees and asks Jesus to leave him because he is afraid.

Mark 4:34-41:  Jesus rebukes the storm and the disciples are afraid.

Mark 5:1;17:  Jesus casts a legion of demons out of a man sending them into a herd of pigs[3] that then jump off a cliff.  The people of the town beg Jesus to leave because they are so afraid of him.

John 18:1-8:  When the Temple guards come to arrest Jesus.  Jesus just says who he is and the guards draw back and fall down.

Matthew 28:4-8:  Those guarding the tomb of Jesus see angels and are so afraid they shake and become like dead men.  The women see the angel and they are afraid and filled with joy at the same time; interesting combination.

Acts 2:  On Pentecost the church receives the Spirit.  The people who see this are bewildered and astonished.  The disciples are walking around in a way that those looking at them suspect they might be drunk.  Some mock them, some believe.

Revelation 1:17: John upon encountering the presence of Jesus falls at his feet as if dead.


Again this is just a highlight reel.  It is in no way exhaustive.  I tried to include something from every major section of scripture.[4]  Doesn’t it make sense that if we encounter the presence of God in a real and vital way that it would fry our circuits a bit?  We are talking about the God who spoke and all things came into existence.  Even a tiny bit of His power in a place is going to be overwhelming at best.  

Let me finish with telling a few of the stories of what happened during that “Pentecost” experience at camp. 

The first person that evening who encountered God’s power fell on the floor and began laughing uncontrollably.  It was disconcerting to anyone in the auditorium.  The next day I sat down and talked with them about what happened.  They related to me that their parents had gone through a nasty divorce and how that had made them very angry, bitter, and even filled with rage.  As our speaker invited the Spirit to come the individual just asked God to help them.  They said a wave of joy that was so powerful just rushed into them.  Something they were unable to control, but after the evening God had given them a peace about their life and that things were going to be O.K.

There was another person who was there who had accepted Jesus as their savior the first night.  The next night they fell out on the floor sobbing from the depth of their being for the better part of an hour.  This persons father had been beheaded by a drug cartel when they were young.  The family had fled the country for the safety of the U.S.  They had allowed their heart to close off to the grief that event had brought.  God ripped the scab off the infected wound and began to clean it out.  He said feel, grieve, come back to life and they did.  For the rest of the week this teenager couldn’t stop testifying to the goodness and greatness of Jesus at work in their life.

I could tell story after story.  What I want you to know is that God can’t be tamed.  His ways are not our ways.  He is more powerful than we can possibly understand and comprehend and when He decides to touch us with His power and love it is not uncommon for us to come completely undone, for us to be struck by awe, fear, or even denial. 

Have you been trying to tame a God who can’t be tamed?



[1] All believers are filled with the Spirit when they decide to make Jesus their King, but God likes to empower our lives through the Spirit so we will be more excited about sharing about the life giving love that is available to us through Jesus.
[2] There is no doubt that God’s presence does come to us in a comforting and quiet way in scripture.  The thing I want to explore has to do with whether this is the only way God’s presence is manifest in our lives according to scripture.
[3] Jewish people weren’t to eat pork, so keeping a herd of pigs shows these people weren’t keeping the law as they should.
[4] The Law, The Histories, The Prophets, The New Testament

Monday, July 9, 2012

How to Get the Most Out of Church

Having been on staff at different churches since 1989 (that’s 24 years for those of you who are counting), I think I’ve learned a thing or two about how the church works and how people can get the most out of their experience while attending a church.  So here are some insider tips that I think will help you get the most out of your experience with church.

The first thing is a given for me.  You need to be a part of a church that is serious about following Jesus.  This can be a church that has high liturgy or is as contemporary as they come, the church can be large, it can be small, it can be medium sized, all of that is just personal preference.  But the heart of the church needs to be focused on following Jesus wherever he leads.  Can I tell you a secret?  Most churches are led by very sincere people who are doing their best to be faithful to Jesus and biblical truth.  These people aren’t perfect, they will make plenty of mistakes, but they love God and are doing the best they know how.  Guess what?  You aren’t perfect either.  Keep that in mind as your dealing with an imperfect system. 

Now here it is; the golden nugget.  Most folks don’t understand how the church affects change in our lives and the lives of our friends.  Being someone who loves to cook I’m going to use a cooking analogy.  Most of us think the church is a microwave.  We think we jump in, and in a very short period of time things should be significantly different for us.  This is not the way God works and it’s not the way he has designed his church to work.  Our spiritual lives are a journey, and the character of Christ is worked out in us over a lifetime. 

Also, Spiritual development is not something that happens in isolation.  You can’t just go to church and sit in a church service or attend a class and expect the character of Christ to form in your life.  First worship isn’t for us, worship is something we give to God.  Second, information is helpful for forming a base of knowledge but it’s useless unless it’s applied.  So that leads us back to the question how does church work?  If it’s not a quick fix.  If it’s not a 2 minute nuke in a microwave how does it work?

The church is designed to work like a smoker.  If you’re smoking a piece of meat you cook it low and slow.  For the meat to be smoky and fall apart tender you have to cook it between 175 and 200 for at least 12 hours.  If you put a brisket in a microwave for 2 minutes it’s going to be disgusting but if you put in a smoker for 12 to 14 hours it’s heaven on earth.  The church is the community of Christ on earth.  We are the people who live by the rule and reign of Christ.  Now to fully embrace the upside down values of the kingdom of heaven (the first shall be last, it’s in giving that we receive, love your enemies, bless those who persecute you, take up your cross) takes a community of people walking shoulder to shoulder over the long haul.

I didn’t really understand this fully until my oldest son graduated from High School and went off to college.  You see when Zachary was seven we planted (started) a church in Chattanooga Tennessee.  Over the course of the first few years there were a group of us who committed to doing life together as a church, we proclaimed the Gospel of Jesus to our city, prayed with one another, served one another, served our community and those who God brought into our church.  Now there were many families that bounced in and out of that group; families that became angry with me because of some decision or another that I made, or even angry with one of those core families.  But a core group of us have stuck it out over the long haul and have done life together.  There were plenty of times we got aggravated with one another or hurt each others feelings but we choose to love, to forgive, and to continue to do life together as Christians and as friends. 

Now over the course of years (a decade or longer) something beautiful happened.  These families standing back to back formed a safety net for our kids that produced young men and women who love God and are seeking to serve him as young adults.  We have changed each other and because of our commitment to Christ and one another worked out over the period of years and we have become better people.  When I saw the young man Zach had become and realized that it was a partnership between these families that had chosen to do life together through our church, something clicked.  I realized the power of the church is found in Christ-centered community.  That it is over the long haul not the short sprint that profound change comes and the life that truly is good is found.

You see that kind of power is not worked out in our lives because the pastor preaches a little better than the guy down the road or the band in the church down the street is cooler than the choir, or they have huge church building with a food court, or their youth group went to Disney World.  Honestly, none of those types of things matter.  They are not the difference makers.  The difference maker is authentic Christian community centered around the proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ worked out over the long haul by those who choose to do life together.  If you don’t believe me read the last couple of chapters of each of Paul’s letters.  I’ll paraphrase most every letter Paul wrote.  In light of the redeeming love of Christ, that has moved us from death to life, live lives worthy of that redemption together (in unity and community).  For the followers of Jesus who get that and do that come blessings untold.

To sum up, you want to see the character of Jesus formed deep in your life?  Don’t church hop.  Invest deeply in your church by serving and building friendships where you do life together.  This is not going to be easy.  It will require work.  It will require grace.  It will require humility.  It will require love…funny aren’t those exactly the qualities God wants to form in our lives?  Go figure.   

Thursday, July 5, 2012

My Story

A Pastor friend asked me to write out my testimony so he could use it as an illustration in his sermon.  Since I've never written it out I thought I'd use it as this weeks blog post.  This is my story.


I grew up in a family where not a single person was a follower of Jesus when I was little.  Not my parents, not my step-parents, none of my aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins; no one in my family was a follower of Jesus.

When I was in the seventh grade my grandfather on my mother’s side died.  There was a little Baptist church down the road from my Granny and her neighbors recommended that the pastor from that church do the funeral.  He was a professor at a local seminary who loved to preach and he loved his people.  He began to visit my Granny shortly after the funeral and within a few months had led her to Christ. 

My Granny began to pray for her family.

Now my mother would feel guilty for not having her children in church from time to time; usually after I had done something she deemed particularly bad, or after something like my sister’s first words being “Damn Flies”.  After one of the events had occurred we would attend the local United Methodist Church for maybe three weeks in a row, until the urgency of our trespasses had wore off and then we’d slip back into our routine, only showing up for services on Christmas and Easter.  I can remember my Dad on one Easter morning looking out at some men playing golf and commenting with disdain, “Who doesn’t go to church on Easter?”  The answer to that question would be my biological dad and stepmom.  All that to say, we had very little in the way of a formal Christian upbringing.

When I became a senior in High School my best friend Gary Rhom, who loved to party and chase after the girls with me, had an encounter with Jesus at a YoungLife retreat.  Out of nowhere it seemed he went on the straight and narrow.  After this had gone on for several weeks and Gary’s weekly twisting of my arm to go to YoungLife club I finally decided to go up to our schools YoungLife leader, a guy named Kitt Sublett who had the thickest coke bottle glasses you’ve ever seen, and ask him what he had done to freak my  friend out about God.

Kitt looked at me and said,  “Do you really want to know?” and I was like, “yes” and then he said call me up tomorrow and we’ll catch a sandwich at Schlotzsky’s. 

The next day I went and strong armed another of my good friends Frankie Sanford to go along with me.  We asked Kitt every question that our unbelieving hearts found so critical (what about the pygmies in Africa? What about the dinosaurs? What about evolution?) and Kitt gave us honest answers that I could tell he genuinely believed.  This was enough to get my curiosity up so when he said, “Where do we go from here?” I was open to continuing the dialogue. 

Kitt started a small Bible Study for Gary, me, and Frankie.  We called it the Coke-a-cola club because Kitt bought the cokes that came in the little glass bottles.  For nine weeks we studied the Bible.  Kit taught us about God’s good creation, about the Fall and the problem of sin, then we looked at Jesus his life, teachings, and miracles, then he showed us prophecies about Jesus in Old Testament and how they were fulfilled in the New Testament.  When he showed me Isaiah 53 I freaked out.  That passage was written hundreds of years before Jesus walked the planet and yet was so clearly about him.  It seemed like overwhelming proof to me that Jesus was who he claimed to be.  During that study my mind came to believe that Jesus was Lord but God wanted all of me not just my mind.

Now during these nine weeks God was at work in my life.  You see I had sort of a Diest’s view of God.  I believed there was a God, I just believed he wasn’t personal and he did not care about me.  That he had got everything going and he was kindda watching the show.  Well as we began studying the Bible I began reading the New Testament on my own and Jesus was anything but impersonal.  In Jesus I was confronted with a God who loved each person individually, who’d entered humanity to redeem and fix what was broken about it. 

I began to look at my friendships and see that all centered around getting drunk and partying.  I knew that in a few short months I’d be leaving home and going to college and was wondering is this all there is?  Am I going to be spending the rest of my life trying to get the beautiful sexy wife, accumulate the most stuff, so that I can make my life the biggest party that I can?  Is this really the meaning of life?  Or is there something that I’m seeing in Jesus, something about his self-giving, self-sacrificing love that points to the fact that real life, the good life is found somewhere in a completely different direction?

All these questions came to head on the evening of April 16th, 1987.   One of my good friends Gregg Gambel and I had gone to a party together.  I had ridden with him and I put my keys in his glove compartment (these were the days of skin tight levi’s and your keys looked pretty stupid sticking out of your pocket).  At the party there were a bunch of kids from another school and my girlfriend was there too.  I was a pretty horrible boyfriend during those day’s, it was hard to find space for anyone other than my ego, so we were constantly fighting. 

We had a talk the day before about how we felt our relationship was to physical and we were going to try to figure out how to be friends on top of being boyfriend and girlfriend.  Anyway we arrive at this party and I come up to her to say hi and she did not give me the greeting that I felt like I deserved (you know fawning, gushing, pseudo-worship) and so I start churning up the party so all the attention can center around me.  I get together a group of people and we start playing the drinking game quarters and before long I’m fairly drunk.  I look over at my girlfriend and she is talking with this guy I can’t stand.  I start thinking how much I’d like to punch him; I decide to take a walk instead.   Frankie, my good buddy, lives a few streets over so I decide to walk to his house.  It takes me about an hour to find my way two streets over.  When I get to Frankie’s I ask if he will take me home.  He tells me he can’t because he’s sick, so I start trying to find my way back to the party. 

During this walk I begin to talk with God.  I’m telling him how empty I am.  I tell him what a mess I’ve made out of my life.  I finally make it back to the house where the party was, but when I get there everyone is gone.  The party has moved locations and my buddy that I had come to the party with is gone as well, with my keys.  The next morning is Easter Sunday, and I’m thinking great, the one Sunday we are going to be in church and I’m going to be coming home way late, drunk off my butt.   I decide I’m going to have to walk home and I head towards the exit of the neighborhood.  All this time I’m talking with God asking him if there is a better way to do life.  Finally I just sit down on the sidewalk and I make a bargain with God.  I say, “God if you will get me out of this mess, I will give my life to you hook line and sinker.” 

No sooner does this prayer come out of my mouth than a friend of mine who is home from college for Easter weekend drives by and sees me sitting on the side walk.  He stops and says, “Jeff, what are you doing sitting on that sidewalk?”  I say, “I’m drunk and lost, will you take me home?”  He says sure. 

I get in his car and we begin to drive to my home.  He has to stop and get gas, and while he is getting gas I see my buddy that I came to the party with in the turn lane that is next to the gas station.  I hang out the window and wave my arms and yell.  Gregg sees me, drives over, I hop in his car, get my keys, arrive home and go to my room no questions asked. 

The next morning we are sitting in church.  Our pastor is preaching on the power of the resurrection and God’s Spirit begins to speak to me.  He says, “I upheld my end of the bargain; Jeff, are you going to uphold yours?”  I begin to think, that is going to mean some dramatic changes.  I will have to change my lifestyle, it might mean my friendships will have to change, what will this mean for me and my girlfriend?  Then I start to think it all could have just been a series of coincidences.  I need to be reasonable.  Then I hear God speak again, he says this is your opportunity Jeff, if you don’t move now it won’t come around again for a long time.  At that moment I came to realize that the God I had always thought was impersonal and distant was as close as some drunk kids prayer in the back of a neighborhood.

So right there in that moment, I surrender my heart to Jesus.

Many thought that was just a phase; that in a few months I’d grow out of this Jesus thing.  But 25 years later I know it was the best decision I’ve ever made.  Now, I understand that any choice I’ve made to be faithful to Jesus has been a good one and any choice I’ve made to do life my own way has been a bad one.

I guess Granny’s prayers were packing some power.    

Monday, June 18, 2012

An Example to Follow

11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13 The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. [1]

I want to talk about one of my heros today; Godfrey Hubert.  Godfrey Hubert was the first pastor I worked for when I went into full time ministry.  Godfrey comes from a line of pastors.  His parents escaped Nazi Germany in the 40’s and became missionaries in Quito, Ecuador where they ran an orphanage (He had an uncle that was martyred during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia).  Godfrey told me that his bedroom was a renovated chicken coop, so obviously, Godfrey grew up poor.   I remember him relating a story to me one time about how he woke up one morning to find a snake lying on his chest, curled up because of his warmth.  He had to wait until his father came to check on him, being totally still and quiet so he could remove the thing.  If it had been me, I would have wet the bed. 

Godfrey came to the United State when he was eighteen with a 1000 bucks and the instructions to go to Asbury College.  He worked as a pastor, a bus driver, and probably about any other odd job he could find to get himself through school and seminary.  He and his young wife began to pastor Foundry United Methodist Church when he was in his early thirties and he’s still pastoring the church 30 years later.  There are so many lessons I’ve learned from Godfrey both personally and professionally, but there is a new lesson that his faithful service is challenging me with today. 

You see, pastoral ministry is hard.  In most churches you have a faithful 20%.  These are folks who make huge sacrifices so the ministry of the church can happen.  They tithe, they serve, and they understand their participation is important so they can be counted on to attend worship and many of the key church events.  They are people who actually understand that the pastor and his family are people and their long term faithfulness walked out over years provides the church with its strongest leaders and the pastor with his dearest friends.   These are the people who represent Jesus well to the outside community and are models to faithfulness inside the community of the church as well.  These people are easy to make sacrifices for, and it’s their presence that keeps pastors and their families sane.

Then there is the other 80%.  They are church hoppers that go from church to church looking for what they can get.  Like the fair weather fans of a sporting team, they are happy to cheer when things are going well, but they are quick to abandon ship when things get tough.  They are the first to say that the church is filled with hypocrites but fail to see that they are the hypocrites they are talking about.  The problem is that some of the 80% will become the 20% if you can move them along in their faith, you just don’t know who they are.  You don’t know who the diamonds in the rough are.  I know that over thirty years Godfrey has been told countless times his preaching stinks, he’s not good at leading a church, or he basically just stinks at everything.  He has had tons of leaders and people he thought were his friends leave by the droves.  I was one of those.  I was a young twenty something youth pastor who thought I knew everything.  I thought I was a better pastor, a better preacher, a better innovator, and if Godfrey would just do church the way I thought it should be done then all would be great.  I was saying this to a man who came in after a church split, and grew the church to 1500 people while I was there.  It’s now a church of 4000.  What I’ve learned since I left is if I could be even on sixty-fourth of the pastor Godfrey is I’d be O.K.

 6 months after I left, I called Godfrey repenting in dust and ashes, and because he is the kind of man that he is, he forgave me and has been one of my biggest cheerleaders (he always was, I just had to eat some humble pie to see it). 

 So here I am twelve years into the church I planted in Chattanooga Tennessee.  I’ll tell you a little secret; every pastor has their favorite exit strategies.  Mine involve planting a church next to a warm beach, in my beloved College Station, back home in Houston, or next to Disney World.  I’ve always kept these in my back pocket, just in case.  However, as I see the courageous leadership of Godfrey, I find myself asking the questions, “What if I committed myself to a group of people most of whom, I know, would never commit themselves to me? What if I followed the model of Godfrey who is following the model of Jesus and served whether I’m accepted or rejected by those whom I’m laying my life, dreams, and desires down for?   What if I burned up all my exit strategies and climbed up on the altar and said my life is not my own, but it belongs truly to the sheep to which you’ve called me, Lord.  What if…”

Well I haven’t left yet.  Godfrey, I hope I make you proud.  I hope I can be as faithful to my charge as you have been to yours.  You have been and always will be my pastor.



    





[1] The New International Version. 2011 (Jn 10:11–13). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

A Beautiful Day

A Beautiful Day

I saw something beautiful last week.  I walked outside the public school where our church has made its home for the last several years and saw our teenagers playing the opening game at our youth group meeting.  When I looked at them it was beautiful, firstbecause there was a group of kids learning to be the Christ-centered community that is the church, and second because it was almost fully racially integrated.  It looked like the actual demographic make up of the city of Chattanooga.  Kids from different races, different socio-economic backgrounds, different cultures were becoming friends and learning to do life together.  It was picture of the in-breaking of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth.  When the rule of God is fully established on earth as it is in heaven it will look like our youth group did on Wednesday night.

I then walked inside where my wife, Kellie, and a couple of  wonderful leaders in our church were starting a new Wednesday night outreach to the elementary aged siblings of the teenagers from the neighborhood in which our church is located.  You see, the teenagers have been bringing their younger siblings with them to church on Wednesday nights.   It’s not uncommon for us to have eight or nine of these siblings.  We had been just providing childcare with some crafts and a movie, but we felt like there was an incredible opportunity to communicate the love of Jesus with children who were literally coming to our doorstep.

We pulled out one of our old children’s ministry curriculums and decided to give it our best shot. This was our first week to give it a go, and wouldn’t you know, it was the evening we had the smallest amount of elementary kids since they began showing up; we only had two, yet undeterred we went forward.  The kids were a brother and sister that had very limited exposure to the church.  We broke ourselves into a boys and a girls team, each consisting of two adult leaders and a child.  We played the games, we cheered, we memorized scripture, and the enthusiasm we were showing as adult leaders infected thekids and they smiled, laughed, and cheered right along with us.  You could tell they were really eating up the attention they were getting from the adults.

After the games and competition portion, we broke into smallgroups and began to talk about what it means to have a relationship with Jesus.  We talked about praying a prayer to accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior. The children told us they had never prayed a prayer like that.  We asked them if they wanted too and they responded yes.  Now I don’t think these second and third graders connected all the dots as to what it means to belong to Jesus, but I think it was their first step on a life long journey of growing closer to God.

The last few years have been tough for me personally.  Our church was the thriving hipster church in town.  We were the cool place to be.  We leased a beautiful contemporary building with soft cushy seats.  We had over 500 people and I was thought of as being somebody in the Vineyard Movement.  But the Lord (and there is no doubt about that) called us to leave our facility and move into an “at-risk” school in our city.  Within seven months we lost 50% of our congregation.  Since then we have turned over 75% of our church, but we’ve added people too, which has given us a net loss of about 55% over three years. I’m no longer really thought of as “somebody” within our movement, and we are definitely no longer the “cool” church. Many of our hipster types have hipped themselves right out the door.  I have had many on my leadership team leave telling me I just don’t have the goods anymore.  Yet, as I see a youth group that was as white as an Easter lily become fully integrated, as I pray with children who have never heard what Jesus has done for them and are now hearing it because we’ve parked ourselves in the middle of their neighborhood, I think maybe God does use the foolish things to confound the wise and maybe there is something about that opening section in the Gospel of John where we read that the Word becaming flesh and dweling among us.  Maybe, just maybe, the church was meant to be more than just an entertainment for the wealthy, and the spoiled, and the coddled, but rather a courageous community that is to go where few dare with the proclamation of the Kingship of Jesus.     

Monday, August 23, 2010

First things First

I was reading an article today in the Chattanooga Times Free Press about the dramatic increase in teens dying from accidental overdoses on prescription meds. The interview featured a parent who was devastated by the loss of his daughter. He related the call he had received from his ex-wife who was screaming into the phone that his daughter would not wake-up. The call and the story were heartbreaking. He went on to relate how his daughter had begun experimenting with drugs when she was fifteen years old and he didn’t know what caused the problem. He felt like he had done everything right as father.


 
How many times over my twenty-three years of ministry have I been faced with parents bewildered over the choices their teenagers and young adults are making. It’s sad because their hearts are breaking for their children. They literally feel that they have done it all right; and in the eyes of the world they have.

 
The Bible states in the book of Proverbs, “There is a way that seems right to a person, but its end is the way to death (Pr. 14:12)”.

 
We have been sold a lie by our culture as to what makes a good parent. The advertising companies and marketing machines spend billions of dollars trying to convince us that what our kids really need is stuff. They need great clothes, they need subscriptions to cable or satellite T.V.’s with the kids plan, they need their own room in a large home, they need to be involved in every activity a good parent can afford, they need cell phones, computers, mp3 players, tragically hip parents, they need the latest and greatest this and the latest and greatest that. If you are a good parent in the eye’s of this world you will do whatever you can to provide your child with these things.

 
The world does not just stop at stuff though. It tells us those with great stuff win and we want our children to be winners. The way that they get to be winners is through achievement. Our kids need to achieve academically so that they can get the right opportunity and land the right job that is going to allow them to get the right stuff, they need to be invested in the right activities and we should be willing to drop or sacrifice whatever so that Suzie Q can play soccer or Bobby Joe can play football because athletic success is the real ticket. They might be able to land a scholarship or maybe even one of those 100 million dollar pro sports contracts. Just think of all the stuff they could get with that!!!

 
No really, I just want them to be happy, and I know that if I had more stuff, more success, a prettier body I’d be happy so I darn sure want my kids to have a better shot at happiness than I’m having.

 
“There is a way that seems right to a person, but in the end leads to death (Pr. 14:12).”

 
George Barna, a pollster who has conducted surveys of the American people for the last 20 years, has a book called Revolutionary Parenting. It’s quite interesting, especially for someone who is a Christ follower. In the book he surveyed 2000 young adults who are committed Christians, love God, and are active and generous within their churches. These were kids that weren’t perfect but they experienced none of that teenage rebelliousness we’ve been taught is normal. When he surveyed them he found that most all of them had pretty amazing parents and so he surveyed parents as well. What he discovered is that “Revolutionary Parents” had some universally shared values, and these values seemed to produce some pretty amazing kids. I’ll share a few of them with you. These are going to be shocking so get ready.

 
  1. The parents loved God deeply and sincerely, and this love for God influenced every area of their lives.
  2. These parents saw parenting as their greatest responsibility in life.
  3. These parents saw the goal of their parenting being to raise kids who grew up to love and serve God (over academics, athletics, or anything else).
  4. These parents loved their spouse and were committed to their marriage for a lifetime.
  5. These parents took responsibility for the education of their children (whether public, private, or home schooled both academic and spiritual).
  6. These parents were consistent in their discipline.
  7. These parents did not try to be their kid’s best buddy.
  8. These parents made whatever economic sacrifices were necessary so that they could be involved in their children’s lives (instead of trying to give their kids more stuff, they gave them more of them; in almost every case one spouse was at home).

Some of these values might make you angry, but remember these are not Jeff’s eight values. These are some of the values that Barna discovered through his survey. They are just facts derived from statistical information. However, I have found that these values have worked in my life and in many, many other people I know.

 

During this fall quarter Kellie and I are going to be co-leading a growth group with some Revolutionary Parents Scott and Laura Lillard on the topic of how to be the best parents we can be. Those of you with kids that go to our church I highly recommend you attend this growth group, but after reading the article today I felt compelled to blog a bit on this topic.

 

Out of all the things God has given us to steward in our lives our children are the most precious. I have never once heard one person on their death bed say I wished I had spent less time with my children. I have seen many people who have been heartbroken over the direction of their children’s lives wondering what they could have done to prevent the reality they find themselves and their kids in. Well there are eight values that if internalized and lived out will be a huge dose of preventative medicine.

 

I’m writing this because I don’t want you to ever wake up to a daughter who is dead because she was using drugs to escape the world. I kept the first sentence of the story I related at the beginning of the blog intact because if the girl died at 22 and started doing dugs at 15 it doesn’t take brain science from the context of the story to figure out what happened that shattered her world to the point she wanted to go numb on drugs. Did you catch it? If not reread it over and over again until you clue in.

 

The good news is even if your parenting has been miserable; you can always make a fresh start. Recommit. Because if you look hard at this, all that is really being said by the results of the survey is be the person you want your kid to be. If they respect you they’ll want to be like you.

 

Jesus said, “Seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be added unto you”. I think this holds true for parenting.

 

 

 

Friday, July 16, 2010

Couch Surffing in Calcutta: A Pespective on Ministry to the Marginalized

This post is by a friend of mine, Chris Heintz, who has attended the Vineyard Chattanooga since he was in the 8th grade.  Since graduating from high school Chris has been caught up in many an adventure for Christ.  He attended Christian college in California, has lived in a Christian communal setting, has had several neat experiences in other countries, and is now interning at monastery in Conyers GA.  Chris and I had coffee a couple of weeks ago where he shared with me his experiences with the Sister's of Charity in Calcutta India.  I thought what he shared was s interesting that I asked him to write it down so I could share it with you.

Two years ago I was given a plane ticket from my grandparents for my college graduation. A ticket to anywhere in the world. I had spent time in Europe and Japan while I was in high school and had seen how other cultures in the so called "first world" lived differently and how they lived similarly to those of us comfortably in the United States. But what I hadn't yet seen was the world most people lived in. The very world Jesus lived and died in. The world of the marginalized, the excluded, and the outcast. The world many of would prefer not to acknowledge. The world of the poor.


And so I decided to travel to Calcutta India to work with the Missionaries of Charity, the order that began with Mother Teresa. By the time the plane landed in India, I still didn't know exactly where I was going to stay those two months, but somehow I wasn't too worried. I finally connected with the Indian man I found online through couchsurfing.com who lived on the outskirts of Calcutta (or Kolkata, as it's officially called today) and was willing to let me stay with him. A stranger, willing to welcome me into his home. And all was well. At least where I would sleep.

That first day in Calcutta was about as much of a shock to the system as any place could have been. The kind that feels impossible to describe. People EVERYWHERE! Cars, mo-peds, motorcycles, rickshaws, buses, and taxis all happy to reduce the pedestrian population. All moving in mass anarchy to the constant honk of every horn. And trash... trash, everywhere. Calcutta could sometimes make Skidd Row in Los Angeles seem like a safe, quiet neighborhood to raise a family. For the first few days, the poverty was all I could see. You'd try to escape it in air-conditioned book stores or coffee shops, something, anything to give you a taste of home. But all you could taste sipping your latte as malnourished children would bang on the glass windows, begging for food, was your own guilt.

But I arrived in India precisely to see this. To see the world in all its reality. And what was beginning to stir in me was the reality of the Gospel. The reality of a God that would rather be born among the poor in ancient Palestine, in a filth covered manger, than in the palaces of Rome. That it was precisely to the weak and powerless, to those sick and in despair, to those shoved to the margins that Jesus said, "follow me".

After several days of trying to adjust to everything I was experiencing, I began working in Kalighat, the home for the sick and dying, there with the Sisters of Charity and volunteers from around the world.

I had heard stories of people, friends of mine, who had traveled to Calcutta to work with the Sisters in Mother Teresa's various "homes," and I came somewhat skeptical. I heard of how homes could often be flooded with volunteers who weren't really needed, who came to earn a badge or "check off" a life experience. I came with the (feeling) that the homes were more for volunteers than for the patients, and I heaped on it all the criticism I had gathered for "short term" missions. But what I experienced there was very far from what I anticipated.

It was a place unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was a place of poverty and pain so real you could feel it inside your bones. But it was also a place permeated by the thick love of God. It was a picture of the church. A picture of the Kingdom of God. People literally from all over the world, speaking all different languages, came to serve the very people the world considered least. To bathe them, to dress them, to feed them, to wash their soiled clothes, to bandage their wounded bodies.

And God was there. There in the gentle hands of the Japanese man who cleaned the sick with soap and water, there in the West African nun who radiated with love and humility as she directed volunteers to the back to wash dishes or the roof to dry clothes, and there in the emaciated face of the Indian man too weak to feed himself. Here in a place of so much despair was the Kingdom of God breaking out. A sign of the Kingdom that will one day come.

Everyday was filled with so much beauty and so much pain. Every morning we would carry patients every bit as starved as images from Auschwitz. Many had bones exposed or limbs black with gangrene. The patients had no anesthetics except to squeeze our hands or to be held tightly against our chests as the nurse would clean their horrific wounds. And many mornings we would arrive to find patients who had become our friends, covered in white sheets.

One particular morning, there were four people that had passed through the night. One of the sisters pointed to me and three other volunteers to carry them out from the "cold room" onto the bus and to the crematorium. And so we carried them, first on a cold metal stretcher and then by our hands into the crematorium. Death. In our hands. Cold. Utterly lifeless. And we laid them on a platform and watched as they were slowly moved into the furnace.

It's an image burned into my memory. This was poverty. An empty, silent funeral with no one to mourn. Burned into ash with no hope of resurrection.

But here... it was here that Christ died. Beside the poorest of the poor, among the utterly abandoned, among the god-forsaken. I began to see how much it is that this is the God we worship.

Somehow by God's grace, after several days away to process through what I had experienced, I returned to work at Kalighat for several weeks until I finally returned home.

The transition from Calcutta to Chattanooga again was nearly as jolting as it had been when I arrived in India. But I had changed. I began to see things clearly that before I saw only in a blur. The poor. As I would read scripture, every passage about the poor and marginalized would jump out. It would come with the face of that little girl that tugged my arm for food. Or that older man I carried in my arms to bathe.

I began to see God's heart for the weak and invisible illuminating every page of scripture, as one of its most central themes. From the Exodus to the New Jerusalem. I began to see where it was and to who it was that we were called to proclaim the reign of God. To the sick, to beggars, to sinners, to the demon possessed, to the unclean, to children, to the poor. To the very people most shoved to the margins. I learned too, that this call to the margins meant not simply to "minister" to "them" at a distance, from above. But beside, as Jesus did. Remembering that we too are the sick our physician came to heal.

God doesn't call us all to Calcutta. But he does call us to our neighbors. Our lost, lonely, hurting, forgotten neighbors. Because the good news of the Kingdom of God, hope in the midst of despair, the hope of resurrection, is good news indeed.