A long post...a beautiful-though hard-revelation

The past couple of days have been frustrating. I have found myself becoming very anxious and worked up about many things. In particular, I cannot seem to shake my doubts. God has created me to be a person who asks lots of questions. As such, I often work myself into a tizzy with queries, hypotheticals, and scenarios related to God and his scriptures that are very unsatisfying. Secondly, it seems I am constantly reminded of my inadequacy. I constantly compare myself to other people's spiritual life, education, and achievements. All of my comparison is exhausting, eventually leaving me feeling very down.

This morning Allison and I spent some time in the scriptures, reading a passage from the OT about Elisha and Naaman, King of Syria (2 Kings 5). Naaman had leprosy and heard of a prophet in Israel who could heal him. When Naaman goes to Elisha for healing, he does not like what Elisha tells him to do. "Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean" (v.10). Naaman desires to meet the prophet and become healed on his own terms, not on God's. Nonetheless, Naaman reluctantly obeys Elisha's instructions and is mercifully healed by YHWH, the God of Israel.

After reading the story and swapping observations with Allison, I still felt very inadequate. "Man," I thought, "I wish I could see the scriptures the way Allie does." I also identified with Naaman in his frustration. I often want God on my terms, not on his (which I think is indicative of Modern man's problem). Furthermore, I was doubting the accuracy of these miraculous OT stories and couldn't concentrate on what God may have been trying to communicate. Feeling even more discouraged than before, I asked Allison if I could be alone with God for some time.

I walked out to a swing and sat down with my bible for a while. I looked around for almost 30 minutes, just taking in my surroundings and searching within myself to see what was going on. After finding nothing but more frustration I decided to read from the NT to see if Jesus could shed any light on my situation. Just to give all of you a tip for your own spiritual life: reading Jesus doesn't always produce peace in a difficult situation.

I turned to John 6 and following a quick reading of the chapter I felt as if I had been punched in the face. If you pick up Jn. 6 at v. 22, you find Jesus addressing the crowds and many of his disciples (there were more than just 12 at this point). The crowds who had just been miraculously fed by Jesus (Jn. 6:1-15) seek out Jesus once more. "Rabbi, when did you come here," they ask him in a manner that seems to imply, "We weren't through with you, why did you leave us?" Jesus then tells them that they are seeking him because they are still hungry for bread, not because they are hungry for the Son of God. Jesus then moves into a powerful--yet difficult to understand--discourse about eternal life, the bread of life, and what it means to believe in Jesus.

Jesus compares himself to the bread that Moses gave to the Israelites in the dessert when they were starving for sustenance. Jesus explains that such bread fades in the stomach, but his bread--his own body--offers eternal life. The crowd and some of the disciples are confused and frustrated. Just when you think Jesus would clear things up and aid the crowds in their understanding, he says this: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you" (v. 53). The response to this by many of the disciples is that "this is a hard saying; who can listen to it" (v. 60)? Only the twelve disciples stick around and Jesus continues to call out his followers by informing them that "one of [them] is a devil" (v. 70).

Now, come back to how I was feeling before I read this passage. I expected Jesus to squelch my doubts, fears, anxieties, and feelings of inadequacy. Instead, I see him confusing crowds and calling out his disciples. At this point, I was incredibly aggravated because I knew that I identified more with the frustrated crowds than with the twelve disciples who stuck it out with the Messiah. The next 30 minutes I cried out to God in sheer anger, pulling on my hair while I was praying and grinding my teeth. I just couldn't figure out why I wasn't experiencing the eternal life I had just read about.

I decided to read through the passage again because something was just drawing me to do so. All of a sudden, like a giant Acme anvil hitting a cartoon character with unapologetic force, God hit me with some truth. The first time I read Jn. 6, it felt like I had been hit in the face and it hurt. This time it felt like I had been hit in the face and it quieted my soul. I realized that I identify with the crowds in Jn. 6 and Naaman in 2 Ki. 5 because that's exactly how I see my interactions with God. I want a therapeutic, consumer-friendly God who will make me feel better all of the time. No suffering or hardship for me, just give me the pill that will make it all better!

Look at Jn. 6 again. Jesus calls out the crowds because they simply want more bread to fill their stomachs. Jesus is trying to show them that he is the Son of God-the revealed Messiah-and all they are concerned about is another meal. When Jesus explains to them about eternal life through himself, the bread of life, they quickly say, "give us this bread always" (v. 34). They aren't even concerned with what Jesus is saying about himself or the fact that God is in the midst of them; they just want the benefits of eternal life. No wonder Jesus comes down so hard on them. The language of eating Jesus' flesh and blood refers to the sacrifice one faces when following Jesus and the hunger one must have to pursue Jesus. The crowds wanted neither, they just wanted full stomachs. In other words, they wanted the end without the means to get there. It is also no wonder that they say, "this is a hard saying." The people up to this point have had it easy with how Jesus has provided for them and shared great love. When sacrifice enters the picture, however, hard sayings are just too much. This, my patient readers, is me.

I am an American who consumes. I consume to fill my stomach. I sometimes forget to chew because I just want to become full. I am a product of my American environment. Just listen to what most commercials about food will tell you (especially fast food). "No other product will fill you up like ours!" In fact, the other day I heard a Domino's pizza ad. that told me I could order 3lbs. of food to eat in one sitting. All of this to say, I am a consumer of goods to the point of excess. The reason I have been so frustrated with Jesus lately is because he does not allow me to simply consume him for the feeling of being full. Jesus does not want you or me to simply eat of his bread to become full, instead he desires we eat of his bread because it is from him.

From my reading of Jn. 6, all Jesus wants from his followers is devotion to him--the incarnate God of Israel. Such devotion requires sacrifice. For so long I have associated Jesus with good, fuzzy feelings and comfort. I have food on my table and so I thank God, but do I even care about God? Is God a Father or a vending machine (see Derek Webb's "The Spirit v. the kick drum")? When doubts plague me and I become frustrated, I just lash out and expect to have the faith of the disciples. What I often fail to realize is that the disciples struggled and suffered to become who they were in the end. Ultimately, I realized that Jesus wants me to want him and not just his benefits.

Is the pursuit of Jesus and the sacrifice that comes with it (taking on the cross that tore his flesh and spilled his blood) worth it? The answer to this question comes from the mouth of Peter at the end of Jn. 6. After the crowds and some of the disciples leave Jesus, he turns to the twelve and asks if they are going to follow the dissenters? Peter answers, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (v. 68). Walking and abiding with Jesus will eventually lead all of us to a point where we ask if it is worth the cost? At such a point, we must turn again to Jesus himself and observe God in the flesh. Yes, it is experiencing doubt, frustration, anxiety, fear, and even death to follow Jesus because he has the words of eternal life. He is the great "I am" and is constantly saving us from being comfortable creatures who would sell our souls for a meal. He moves us beyond the faint desires of our flesh and into true life, eternal life (or "the life of the ages"). I am reminded of the Robbie Seay song, "Rescued Ones," where he sings, "Oh our mouths are full, but our souls are starved for you!"

Jesus is worth following because of Jesus himself and no other reason at all. The love, hope, joy, suffering, hard sayings, and discomforts that come with Jesus give us true life. In summary, I am trying to follow Jesus anew, as a follower of him and not just his benefits.

I'm losing faith in coincidence

Allie and I have been preparing to go overseas for the next two years. Part of our preparation has included packing up all of our belongings, moving stuff into storage, and deciding what we will keep and what we can sell.

This morning we had a garage sale and it was better than we could have hoped for. We earned almost $90 for stuff we had little or no regard for. We did, however, have two couches that we didn't know what to do with. Eventually I looked up and jokingly said, "Father God, would you please find someone who can take these couches." We didn't want to haul them off and we both knew they could find a good home. I figured, "God answers his children's prayers, even if they are silly, so why not?"

As the garage sale was winding down, Allie and I decided to throw some signs up that read, "Free Couches." We were tired of waiting and quickly lost interest in trying to earn a profit off of the old couches. It wasn't long after the signs went up that we had a visitor.

I walked outside to meet the person looking at our couches. "Hi, are you interested in the couches," I asked the woman dressed in a business suit. "Oh yes, my husband and I could use them for our home," she answered and then followed by asking, "why are you giving them away?" I told her that Allie and I were going overseas to tell people about Jesus and the woman's face lit up. "I'm a born-again Christian too!" She went on to tell me that she is originally from Kenya and that she helps with a church down the road. After we talked for a while and shared some much-needed air conditioning, our Kenyan sister said that she and her husband had been praying for couches! "We just moved here and we don't have much at all." Allie and I were delighted to help her and were moved by God's provision for both of his children.

As we made arrangements to get the couches to our new friend's house, I couldn't help but wonder, "Is this coincidence or is God really working to provide for us?" It seems like the entire situation is pretty incredible. Allie and I were a few minutes away from hauling the couches off to the dump and all of a sudden this Kenyan sister in Christ shows up, telling us that she has been praying for couches. I could chalk up this experience to coincidence but it happens to us ALL THE TIME! At this point in my life it takes waaaay more faith to always believe in coincidence, rather than a God who provides for those he loves. It's not that coincidence cannot exist, it's just that God has revealed himself over and over again as one who interrupts daily life with grace, provision, and love.

I hope you can believe in a big God who answers seemingly insignificant prayers. Amen.

Birthday Post

Birthdays are great for a lot of reasons. For one thing, I will most likely overdose on sugar and butter this evening while celebrating with my family. Secondly, I will have people post on my facebook wall that I haven't heard from in forever. I love hearing from friends, both old and new. And of course, people will give me gifts. As much as I try not to be consumed by clothes, books, and shiny things (see previous posting), I still enjoy receiving gifts. Call me human.

On the other hand, birthdays are also great for perspective. I woke up this morning to find an email informing me that a longtime friend of the family has pancreatic cancer. This friend of my Dad's has a wonderful family and much to live for. On a day when I am celebrating the joys of life, I am at once confounded by my own. Why am I not the one with cancer? I know that my life has not been entirely easygoing, but why am I healthy and so many others are hurting? The "why's" and "what if's" are endless.

However, if I were to obsess over these thoughts then I would miss my own life and give death the spotlight. Today I have the opportunity to see good friends, break bread with family, and breath again. Furthermore, I am more alive now than I ever have been because I know my God and he knows me. Even though the heartache, darkness, and injustices of the world are more apparent to me now then ever before, God's redemption of all this is all-the-more real. Four or five years ago I would not be able to tell you that God is bigger than our unbelief or that he has never seen a righteous man go hungry (Prov. 10:3). I would not have been able to tell you that God breathes life into broken relationships and protects the marriage of his children. Even two years ago I would not have been able to tell you that I was perfectly loved by a real, living God who is constantly irrupting into our world. There is so much I have learned from being in pain and I can tell you that it does not have to end there.

I'm not sure what else to say because that about sums it up. I hope all of you give meaning to your days and learn to trust in the God who does not let death have the final word.

Grumpy dispatches from a domesticated American

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and awfully grumpy today. Allison and I moved to Dallas recently, waiting for our overseas training to begin in September. My anxiety has little to do with raising funds for our trip, making a big move to DFW, or even leaving behind my friends and family for at least 3 months. Now that I am out of my normal element--my hometown of Houston--I am seeing things much differently. I am becoming more aware of my surroundings and the many influences on my behavior. I have come to conclude that I am thoroughly domesticated.

While we have been in Dallas, Allie and I have been watching a lot more TV. I say "a lot" because even one hour of TV today is way more than we are use to. Nevertheless, the more TV we watch the more advertisements we see. Whereas I studied commercial marketing ad nauseam (pun intended) and am use to my grandfather muting commercials, Allie's family tries to enjoy them. In many ways commercials are as much a part of the TV experience as the featured show itself.

Maybe its because I am in a different social setting or because I am not use to watching so much TV, but I have noticed one strong theme in TV ads: Buy this and you will be happy! Everything from car commercials to ads about Trident gum to bargain deals at Kohls promise to make us shinier, happier people (see REM). This narrative is repeated over and over again and we have all bought into it.

Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann once delivered 19 theses at an Emergent Conversation conference in 2004. His first thesis was that "Everyone lives by a script." His fourth thesis statement summarizes one through three and goes as follows: That script (technological, therapeutic, consumer militarism) enacted through advertising and propaganda and ideology, especially on the liturgies of television, promises to make us safe and to make us happy.

It's not as if I have been blind to this sweeping script. I do think, however, I am just now realizing its effects on me. Here I am, grumpy and frustrated about the consumerism that so plagues me and my countrymen and the only thing I can think about is going to Barnes and Noble. Why? Because I am upset and I would feel better if I could buy a new book, something glossy and new for my bookshelf. Something that people could look at when they enter my home and think, "Wow, he must read a lot" or "what a lovely collection of books." This, my friends, is simply idolatry via consumeristic ideology. I can manipulate the system of consumerism to get people to worship me and then I will be satisfied. Consumerism=therapy.

I don't have much else to add because I am still working through this garbage. But let me at least thank God for the Holy Spirit because I would lose my mind without some sort of guidance in all of this. I pray that you are also discerning your surroundings and looking beyond that which controls and enslaves. May we worship the one, true God and leave our idols behind.

Suffering, in full color

I use to wait tables during the Summer. Actually, I started off as a busboy and food runner, eventually working my way up to waiting tables. Being a busboy was much easier than waiting tables because you never had to interact with the customers--or people really. 

When I started waiting tables I began to learn how I responded to adversity. When you are "in the weeds," you can either freak out and start yelling at the Kitchen staff (not a good way to get your food out faster) or you can focus and work fast. You also learn how to take the good with the bad. You are going to drop a plate or a glass, your manager is going to get on to you about something and you are going to have great customers along with really awful customers. 

My best and worst story from waiting tables is when I received an $.86 tip--there's a decimal point in front of that 86--on a $76 tab. I remember grabbing their cash and "tip" after they had left, entering it into our computer system and then cursing out loud once I found out what they had done. First of all, I was amazed at how quickly curse words come to my lips in a frustrating situation. Secondly, I was overwhelmed by how much I let one bad customer affect me. The entire night following the "tip," I was a jerk to everyone around me. It didn't matter how many outstanding patrons came into the restaurant that night, one inconsiderate couple had effectively ruined the evening. 

In retrospect, things didn't have to go down the way they did. I could have asked God to give me the strength to love my newfound "enemies" and treat those around me with the grace I had not received from Mr. and Mrs. Moneybags. I could have just let it go and let my ego die a little, but instead my soured sense-of-entitlement ruled the day. I'm not writing because I have always wanted to "get back" at that couple via blog bash. I am writing because I am just now noticing how much I let evil and negativity crowd out goodness and love. 

Have you ever been in a really difficult place and thought to yourself, "Why are things always so bad?" I wasn't always this way and certainly have not viewed the world in such a dark light my entire life, yet as I grow older I am seeing how easy it is for me to drift into that mindset. Lately I have been blaming God for almost any and every bad circumstance or happening that intrudes my safe, little world. As it was when I waited tables, I have been choosing to let negativity and evil color my world grey. It's become much harder for me to see the goodness of my God and the love he has shown towards me as I advance in age. 

At issue here is not the quality of my life. I have a roof over my head, shoes on my feet, food in the cupboard, a car to drive, an education, a wonderful wife, clean water and so on and so on. In light of the world's greater--and at the same time poorer--population, what the hell am I complaining about? Simply put, what has been tainting me and turning me cold is an ungrateful, unthankful mindset that refuses to see the world in full color. 

Chuck Swindoll, a well-aged and wise pastor, is quoted as saying, "I'm convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I respond to it." I can either play the part of the wounded victim or respond in love and faith because I know the character of God to be good. I am not calling for dishonest responses to crummy situations. In fact, we should be entirely honest with how bad our day might be going depending on whatever might be happening in our world. We should, however, be honest enough to look outside of ourselves and recognize the beauty, love and truth that is manifested on our big, blue planet. A well-shaped worldview stares empathetically into the teary eyes of injustice and laughs along with a side-splitting joke, "weep[ing] with those who weep" and "rejoic[ing] with those who rejoice."  Life isn't all black, all white, or even all grey--it's full color. 

The gospel according to blinds

They’re called blinds. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. We grab tightly and turn to the right, so the string that holds them together pulls so tightly that no light can come in. Yet, that’s not exactly how it happens is it? Even the cracks between them cannot hold the light that begs, even demands, to enter. When the dust has gathered long enough and the cool air accompanied by darkness has chilled us to the bone, we are moved to action.

We grab hold of the instrument that once kept the light out and turn in the opposite direction. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. The strings once pulled taught by our objection to the sun’s brilliance are now loosened in sweet release. The blinds lighten up and so does the inside. The dust once at rest is tossed into the air like flour in a bakery. We have changed our minds and thus rerouted the destination of the light’s warm glow.

Now, a name change is in order. What were once called blinds would now be more aptly described as tiny windows, for they allow us to see clearly into the world. The temperature begins to rise within and so our senses also rise to the occasion. The once gray world of an indoor domain is blasted by the illumination of full Technicolor. Blues are bluer and greens are greener. Though we may choose to dim the light by adjusting them again, things will never be the same. We have seen too much.

So, each day we arise and choose to let sunlight shine or darkness depress. The clouds may cloak the sun and we may not always feel the warmth, but the fire continues to burn. Will we keep the blinds open on days of rain or twist tightly in darkness, refusing to acknowledge what we cannot see? Will we hope for what’s beyond our vision or let our memories slip into the dull pattern of forgetfulness? Rise, turn, shine and believe. 

Simply Jesus

I've always admired the "good news" of Jesus for its simplicity. I once heard a story about a Buddhist healer who was engaged in deep conversation with a friend over the differences between his beliefs and those of Christianity. The Buddhist healer remarked, "The path of Buddhism is a very, very difficult path; the journey towards enlightenment is very difficult, and even those who struggle rarely obtain enlightenment," then he moved to Jesus, "Christianity is like cheating: You give your life to Jesus and He instantly takes you to enlightenment." The "good news" of Jesus is simply that every person on this harsh planet has a shot at hope and true life. The CEO working on the top floor of his building, the philosopher who lectures at Stanford, and the bum on the street corner who can hardly remember his name; they all have a chance to be enlightened. 

I myself was enlightened by the "light of the world" when I was 15 years old. A friend of mine invited me to a small, unassuming church in the middle of our town. The preacher, his father, was not eloquent in his speech or presentation of the gospel message. "Preacher," as his congregation called him, was a short man who sometimes forgot what he wanted to say and told jokes that were most likely passed along via email forward. Nevertheless, what Preacher lacked in elegance he made up for with substance. He had a simple story to tell, one that included God, man, and a rescue mission. Preacher himself had been rescued from a life of alcohol abuse and selfishness. His message was laced with his failures so he could emphasize God's victory in brining a dying man to new life.

I cannot begin to tell you how many lives Preacher touched with the simple message of Jesus. His congregation was small, but it boasted lives that had been wrecked and rebuilt, and then sometimes wrecked again. Divorcees, widowers, blue-collar workers, and single moms were easy to find in the Friendswood Baptist Church. The respect Preacher had amongst society's outsiders was clearest when Preacher became sick with cancer and the congregation was invited to pray over him. As Preacher kneeled in the center of his church and the hands of those who had been touched by his message were now touching him, a young boy with Down's Syndrome hit his knees to hug Preacher. The child had a bold love for his Preacher, who probably preached more than once about the Kingdom of Heaven belonging to those who are sick and weak. The Kingdom of Heaven was on display that morning as Preacher was hugged and touched by those whom this world had refused to embrace.  

Preacher passed on from this life yesterday afternoon, around 1:30pm. I don't have enough words and you don't have enough time to communicate and understand how powerfully God was displayed in this man's life. Even yesterday, when I went over to McCauley's house to grieve the loss of his father, Preacher's wife was quick to give glory to God. I told her that I wouldn't be the man I am today if it weren't for Preacher. Preacher's wife, Faith, grabbed my arm and said, "That was the Lord." God has been made real to me through the life of a Preacher who carried a simple message of hope. My prayer for you who read this is that you would simply look to Jesus for true life, hope, and peace.