Come and See

Early in the story of Jesus' ministry, we read about John the Baptist recognizing Jesus as the Messiah. As John was with his followers one day, he saw Jesus passing by and said, "Look, the Lamb of God!" Two who heard him decided to pursue whatever that meant, so they got up and followed Jesus. When they asked Jesus where he was staying, he replied, "Come, and you will see." So they went, and spent the day with him.

I love the invitation here, the hospitality extended -- Jesus welcoming others into his space. And the hospitality was spread, too, when Andrew responded in his excitement by bringing his brother Simon to Jesus, and when Philip invited even the rather dismissive-sounding Nathanael.

It seems there was plenty that John the Baptist didn't fully know or understand about Jesus, but he didn't let that keep him from following what he did know and understand. And he didn't keep it to himself; he engaged with others.

And Jesus? He welcomed those who didn't really know who he was but were interested in finding out -- and he still does. He invites each person to not just know about him, but to deeply know him, spending time in his presence and discovering who he is.

-- Pastor Debi

(This account is found in John 1.)

Sanctuary

"I can't talk with other people about this. They wouldn't understand."

I've heard words like these many times -- and have expressed them some myself, too -- about addiction, abuse, fear, doubt, family trouble, and all sorts of other troubling issues. Though I don't always say it, my internal response is usually "You'd be surprised."

Working in a residential treatment center, serving in hospital chaplaincy, ministering in churches, and talking with friends, I've found the sentiment to be a common one, and it is based on the lie that everyone else has it all together. In hiding from each other, we hide from ourselves and from God, too. We can create barriers that keep us from reaching out even when we're so close. It's an awfully lonely way to live.

Anne Jackson describes the historical right of sanctuary in the Christian church, which defended criminals from execution or other unfair judgment and provided a place for criminals to find refuge until they received pardon or fair punishment. Churches still call their meeting places "sanctuaries," and I love how Jackson describes it:

"Church is a place for us to claim

the right of a modern-day sanctuary

where we can name our sins or ask our questions

and be protected and sheltered while we search

for grace, forgiveness, and answers."

The Church is not a building; it is people who follow God. And Jackson's word describe pretty well the kind of people I want to be.

Generations

I stood on the church lawn recently and watched a group playing games together. The youngest was four years old, I think, and the oldest in his forties. Others representing an even broader range of ages sat and stood nearby, talking and laughing as they watched the fun.

What captured my heart on that afternoon was the interactions within the group. Leaders of all ages made modifications as needed to include the littlest ones. Young children looked up to teens and adults, and found friendly faces smiling back at them. Interactions in all directions reflected genuine respect and affection.

The demographics of Rosewood Lane have shifted during the past year or two. It's exciting to have such a variety of ages coming together now for worship on Sunday mornings, from preschoolers all the way to folks in their eighties, with people from every decade in between. All of them are important at Rosewood Lane.

I love the generational variety, especially as it is lived out in congregational community. Some of the teens have led the way by making space for children within their circles of friends. Seniors play an important part as grandparents and grandparent-like figures in the lives of children, teens, and even adults. Children of all ages figure out ways to play together, not just with others in the same class. In all of it, older ones usually watch out for younger ones.

We're learning together about biblical community. I think what I see here is both part of that process and a reflection of it.

Considering Together

The Sunday School class I facilitate is rather predictable, in a way. After prayer each week, we read a passage from the Bible, usually in a few different translations, and talk about it. The conversation starts with four questions:

What captured your heart?

What captured your mind?

What did you notice?

What questions do you have?

And then we go from there. We talk about the passage, compare translations, consider how the message intersects with our lives.

That's where it becomes much less predictable, because the discussion is significantly shaped by each person's contributions.

A few things I can pretty much count on, though... We'll have a great group of people. Most or all will participate at some point. Each will bring a unique perspective. A sense of community will be developed, with new arrivals being welcomed and existing relationships being strengthened. And we'll be changed in the process.

I love this class!

At the Border, Part 2

The biblical book of Numbers has a reputation for being boring, and that reputation is largely undeserved.  Yes, there are lists of names which are often difficult to read and follow, but there is a lot of meaty story, too.

Within the broader story, the Israelites have escaped from their slavery in Egypt and are heading -- slowly, as it turns out -- toward Canaan.  At God's command, Moses sends a handful of leaders to scout out the land.  The group spends some time discovering what is ahead -- the towns, the soil, the trees, the fruit, the people -- and returns with its report:  "We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey!"  They brought back some apparently impressive fruit, too.  The men who had done the exploring were clearly quite impressed with Canaan.

The report continues: "But the people who live there are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large."  They all agreed that they would likely encounter significant opposition.  While they admired the land, most didn't believe they could have it.  Only two of them -- Caleb and Joshua -- believed they could move forward at God's direction with God's help.

The group's admiration of the land makes sense.  The land promised to them by God was indeed wonderful, and could provide very well for their massive group.  The fear of the majority in the group is also normal and natural.  They saw powerful people and large, fortified cities.  They worried that they might be defeated.  The differences in perspective within the group is not unusual, and it is appropriate to consider the various perspectives among them, to respect each other enough to allow the truth of their fear to be spoken as they figure out what to do next.  So far, that's probably all okay.

But it doesn't stay that way, because rather than recognizing and dealing appropriately with their fear, those who hesitated "spread among the Israelites a bad report about the land they had explored.  They said, 'The land we explored devours those living in it....  We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them.'"  Rather than acknowledging their fears and pondering the possibilities together, the foothold of their fears became a stronghold as they stirred up dissension to the point that the whole community started into some pretty serious grumbling.  Through that process, they started to believe that their fears were representative of reality, and allowed those fears to dominate their thoughts.  They started talking foolishly: "Wouldn't it be better for us to go back to Egypt?  We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt."

Back to Egypt?  Seriously?  The land of slavery and oppression?  The place they had miraculously escaped?  The land God had miraculously brought them out of? And this same God promised the great land they'd just explored? What were they thinking??

In the end, they didn't turn around and go back to Egypt, but they also weren't able to really move forward, either.  Their willingness to give in to their fears rather than seek God's direction, exacerbated by banding together with like-minded people, had serious consequences (Numbers 14:20-24).

Human beings are created for relationship and community.  We are designed to work together, to share our ideas, fears, hopes, experiences and perspectives with each other.  Partnering with others is to be a very good thing, a healthy and natural part of who we are.  At the same time, there is also a risk of allowing distortion and distraction to develop when we trust ourselves and others more than God.

Anticipating Together Time

We have been talking about getting folks together from the various Nazarene churches in Utah on a Sunday evening as a united congregation to worship God and enjoy relationships also with each other.  Details are still unknown, but I imagine it will include great music, some time in scripture, a few introductions, food, and conversation.  I am looking forward to this time together.

"There is one body and one Spirit -- just as you were called to one hope when you were called -- one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." (Ephesians 4:4-6)

Rightly Troubled

God chose a man named Saul to lead the Israelites as their first king, and Saul led.  He did some good things in leadership, but then drifted away from full obedience to God and toward reliance on himself (1 Samuel 13).  It would take awhile, but Saul's rule would eventually come to an end.

"Then the word of the Lord came to Samuel: 'I am grieved that I have made Saul king, because he has turned away from me and has not carried out my instructions.'  Samuel was troubled, and he cried out to the Lord all that night.  Early in the morning Samuel got up and went to meet Saul..." (1 Samuel 15:10-12a).

Saul messed up.  It was not just an error in judgment; it was sin.  His behavior was wrong, and so was his heart.

What scripture tells next matters deeply:

The Lord was grieved.

Samuel was troubled by what grieved God.

Samuel cried out to the Lord, and did so all night long.

In the midst of his grief, and after prayer, Samuel took action.

With Pastor Joel's series on "Indispensable People," I think this phrase might describe Samuel here.  When Saul went astray, Samuel neither ignored the behavior nor despised the man.  He recognized the magnitude of what had happened and was appropriately troubled by it.  He prayed, intensely.  And, when it was right, he approached Saul.  He anchored himself to truth when it was difficult, maintaining boundaries while genuinely mourning a very real loss.

We need people like that -- people who value God and others enough to stand for what is right, who are genuinely righteous, whose response to those who stray from God is grief rather than arrogance -- and we are called to be people like that.

Big Church

Miss Allison
leading a kids' lesson

Children's ministries has its own language sometimes, and one common term is "Big Church."  It usually describes the main worship service, and distinguishes it from "children's church" -- a separate space where kids sometimes go to worship together with other young people in ways designed to communicate in developmentally appropriate ways.

Big Church can feel like a foreign place to children (and adults) who have not been there before.  It is a different environment with different actions and expectations than they typically experience in other parts of their lives.  As a result, it's not surprising that kids' responses to Big Church are sometimes disruptive.  It takes time and guidance to integrate.

Important relationships,
useful skills

Sometimes the disruptions are frustrating, but I love that we intentionally include children in Big Church.  With investment from their parents and others, kids can recognize that they have a place in the congregation, too, that they belong here, that they are important to the rest of us and to God.  They also can see church as something bigger than their naturally kid-centered worlds.

SLC Impact
worship team

I'm having a Big Church experience of my own this summer as I join in worship with other congregations in our area while their pastors are away.  Each group has its own unique people, congregational culture, and other variations.  Those environments are a little different from Rosewood Lane, and it takes a little effort to integrate.  Sometimes these differences create little disruptions, I suppose.  But, like with the children, it is worth the investment.  I trust each Sunday that I will both find and create hospitable space in my interactions with others, and I love seeing the bigger picture of God at work in other local congregations.  It is good to be in Big Church.

It reminds me, too, of our denomination as a whole, which introduces even bigger levels of "Big Church" -- not just individuals gathering together, but local churches joining to form districts, districts forming regions, and ultimately people of congregations in over 150 world areas uniting together in common purposes of worship, learning, and service.  It is through such partnership that we become able to engage in ministry so much bigger than any individual or congregation, ultimately reaching around the world.

It doesn't stop there, of course, because Big Church is not limited to our global denomination.  Our focus is on God Himself rather than on our organization.  We join in spirit with other Christians, both locally and around the world.

Big Church is indeed really, really big.

Look at Me

The Bible's story of Job is an ancient one of a righteous man struggling through some serious losses.  He trusts God and yet has a hard time reconciling his experience with his understanding of God's nature.  When Job's friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar hear about his troubles, they come to sympathize with him and comfort him.  They weep and sit quietly with him, joining in his grief (Job 2:11-13).  They "mourn with those who mourn" (Romans 12:15).

They weep for days.  Then, eventually, Job speaks.  He feels his losses deeply and cannot fathom why all those awful things have happened to him.  He begins to put words to his grief and wrestle with how God could possibly allow such things in his life.  Job doesn't curse God; he simply and honestly expresses being troubled by a very difficult situation.  After all, he says,

"Does a wild donkey bray when it has grass,

or an ox bellow when it has fodder?"  (Job 6:5)

Unfortunately, his friends, who had so patiently and sympathetically sat with him in his mourning, now feel compelled to argue, insisting that Job has somehow brought all of this trouble upon himself.  They try to explain away his grief by explaining away the situation.  Not surprisingly, this approach is not helpful.

So... why do Job's friends do that?  Why do all of them feel compelled to chime in?  Why all the extended speeches after their chatter-less compassion?  Perhaps, as Job suggests, they were afraid, for the challenge Job presented was not just to his own faith, but to theirs as well:

"Now you too have proved to be of no help;

you see something dreadful and are afraid."  (Job 6:21)

Perhaps, too, Job's friends have become so defensive that they lose sight of the reality of his pain.  Perhaps they have begun talking abstractly, talking to themselves more than to Job, speaking to theology more than to a human being.  Perhaps.


Job's words early in this conversation catch my attention:

"But now be so kind as to look at me..."
(Job 6:28)

Job does not need information in this time nearly so much as he needs consolation.  He can be consoled first not by doctrine but by the empathetic presence of friends willing to acknowledge that life is sometimes horribly unfair, and Job naturally has an awfully hard time with that.

Sometimes a quiet, gentle presence is the most difficult gift to give, and the most important one we can offer.

Called Out, Called Into

"Do not mistreat an alien [also translated "foreigner" or "stranger" or "sojourner"] or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt." (Exodus 22:21)

It is pretty natural to respond to injustice with similar injustice, hurting others as we have been hurt.  Now that they were out of slavery, it would have been pretty natural for the Israelites to have mistreated or oppressed the aliens among them.  But God called them to a different standard, to a new way of life.  He called them out of the established order of things and into His design.

God calls us to the same -- to a life of both experiencing His grace and extending it to others.

Little By Little

When I was young, perhaps five or six years old, we adopted a dog named Bear.  Bear was a mix of Samoyed and Great Pyrenees breeds -- all white, quite large, and very strong.  I was excited to have a dog again and, of course, wanted to be the one holding the leash as we walked to the car.  Somehow I talked my way into that, promising to hold on really, really tight and not let go.  And, true to my word, that is what I did.  The dog hadn't committed to anything, though, and took off down the street in an unfamiliar town, with me determinedly holding tight and desperately trying to keep up.  It became abundantly clear to me in those moments that I could handle a dog this size only if the dog agreed, and he clearly hadn't done that.

On a related note...

God had brought the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery after they had lived in Egypt for hundreds of years.  Now they were out on their own and needed to become established in ways that would help them to live and function together as a people.  There was much instruction given, and with many associated promises.  Among those were God's promises to guide them and to give them the land.  Unlike the escape from Egypt, though, this one would be more gradual, for "Little by little I will drive [the people living in the land] out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land" (Exodus 23:30).

Like a six-year-old girl with an unwieldy eighty-pound dog, the Israelites were not fully ready for the land that would be theirs.  They would need to work their way up to it, beginning with just a portion and expanding from there.  They needed to grow into it.

It reminds me of the biblical instruction to be faithful in the "little" things, for only those who are faithful with a little can be trusted with more.  This idea is common in talking about stewardship of material goods, but is relevant to far more.  I think today of relationships and of ministries, and of conversations.  When I desire greater depth in relationships, greater impact in ministries, greater authenticity in conversations, it is worth considering how I choose to respond in those I have already.

I don't want to settle for superficial relationships rather than doing the work of pursuing depth.  I don't want to settle for mediocre ministry rather than investing both wisely and wholeheartedly for greater impact.  I don't want to settle for lame conversations rather than showing up as myself and inviting others to do the same.

God has much in store.  Let's be faithful with what we have, and become ready for the rest.

Becoming Youier

John Ortberg

 

I listened to John Ortberg as I drove to Seattle.  He spoke of walking in step with God, enabled to develop in the good ways that He intends.  One point Ortberg made was that some things about each person will never go away, because God intentionally created particular traits in each person.  Rather than being eliminated with spiritual growth, they will be redirected.  God is very intentional about creation, including the creation of each person's personality.

For example, before he met Christ, the Apostle Paul was a passionate, brilliant, zealous man, and he persecuted Christians.  After he met Christ, he was a brilliant, passionate, zealous man, and those traits were instrumental to the spread of the gospel.  In more recent times, Chuck Colson's drive, motivation and ambition led him to places of significant political influence and then to prison.  After he met Christ, his drive, motivation and ambition led him to make an incredibly positive difference through prison ministries.  Redemption is not replacement of the old, but its return to a better state.  Ortberg concludes that God works His redemption in the life of everyone who is aligned with the Holy Spirit.  "You won't just get holier, you will get you-ier," becoming more and more the excellent version of you that you were created to be.

I was listening to this sermon on the way to Seattle for a two-day workshop on Fierce Conversations.  "Fierce" is not about being bloody, cruel, or threatening, but robust, intense, strong, powerful, and passionate.  "Fierce" conversations are ones in which we stop pretending, when we refuse to take the easy way out, when we bypass the simplistic answers that really don't mean squat.  Fierce conversations are ones in which we function respectfully and without masks, showing up boldly as ourselves.  Truly fierce conversations create respectful space that encourages others to show up boldly as themselves, too.

Scott's "fierce" sounds to me like Ortberg's "you-ier," and both sound like Christ.

Identity

"Who are you?"

There are many ways to answer this question, defining oneself by family relationships, friendships, work roles, culture, gender, ethnicity, preferences, skills, education, personality traits, sports teams, physical appearance, and so much more.  These can be an important to a sense of identity, and are certainly part of God's unique creative work in each of us.  But such descriptions cannot reach to the core.

Paul's letter to the Romans is an incredible work, articulating the foundations of grace, faith, and righteousness.  How does he begin such a letter?  He starts with the character of God and then his own identity in Christ.  Paul knew he was a servant, an apostle, set apart for God, one who has received grace.  His identity was in Christ, and only from that perspective could he begin to proclaim the gospel.

I am reminded of Jesus' words in John 13: "Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist."  He took on the menial role of a servant who would customarily wash the feet -- likely they were dirty and smelly from walking along dirt paths -- of the guests before a meal.  Jesus knew who he was and he did not serve in spite of recognizing his divine nature, but because of it.

When we see clearly who God is, and who He invites us to be in Him, we create space for His transforming work to bring about great fruit in our lives.

What's Your Hurry?

My dad is generally unruffled.  He is deliberative and wise.  He considers situations with appropriate care and chooses how to respond.  He's the calm one in stressful situations.

Most of the time, anyway.

Apparently when my brother broke his leg and started yelling, my dad moved faster than any of us kids had ever seen.  There was something wrong with his son, and he was going to get there.  We are a priority to him, and when he heard Don's voice, he knew something was wrong, which created a sense of urgency.  He hurried.

Pastor Joel preached today on the "Grunts" in the Advent story: the shepherds.  Context is important, of course, so here is a really quick description of where we're at in the story...

Veronica lighting
the Advent candles

Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem for the census, and Mary gave birth to Jesus while there.  Shepherds in nearby fields were working as usual when an angel appeared and told them, "Do not be afraid.  I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.  This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in clothes and lying in a manger."  Then, suddenly, there were many angels present and praising God.  When the angels left, the shepherds decided together to go to Bethlehem and check out for themselves what the angels had said.

"So they hurried off..." (Luke 2:16)

The shepherds had received some really good news, and Pastor Joel talked (audio available -- listen or download) about what they did with that news.  For me, in this season, one thing Joel said today particularly caught my attention:  The shepherds were urgent about what was important.

This time of year brings many things that feel urgent.  There are trees to put up, homes to decorate, parties to attend, cards to send, gifts to prepare, plans to finalize, and so forth.  Not to mention the usual (and unusual) responsibilities at home and work.  Not all of them are equally important, though.

I can be flexible on most of my to-do list, really, as long as I stay focused on what is most important.  The big two non-negotiables?  God and the people in my life.

There isn't much reason to hurry, really.  God has given me all the time I need to accomplish all that He has for me.  And that is enough.

Communion

Mark and I went to church in Portland this past Sunday.  Before Pastor Bill served Communion there, he talked about that word.  "Communion" speaks of sharing and relationship.  When we take the bread and juice together in this symbolism-rich meal, it is a powerful reminder of relationships with God and with each other, made possible through Jesus Christ. And it was not just those of us in that room of that church building at that time.  On that morning, I was struck by how the act of receiving Communion connected us with our home church, others with whom we have worshiped throughout our lives, and even people we've never met.  I am grateful for this gift of relationship, and want to honor it.

-- Debi

Friendship

I admit it -- I like Facebook.  I enjoy hearing what is going on in the lives of people I love, seeing photos of their friends and families and fun times, getting the snippets of status updates.  That said, I was challenged recently by something I read through my Leadership Journal (a great publication, by the way) subscription:

"In an article for The Chronicle of Higher Education, William Deresiewicz examines the new forms of friendship that have emerged in the age of Facebook. While social media has allowed us the opportunity to be connected to everyone, it more often than not comes at the expense of deep, meaningful, shaping friendship. Deresiewicz writes:

[Concerning] the moral content of classical friendship, its commitment to virtue and mutual improvement, that … has been lost. We have ceased to believe that a friend's highest purpose is to summon us to the good by offering moral advice and correction. We practice, instead, the nonjudgmental friendship of unconditional acceptance and support—'therapeutic' friendship, [to quote] Robert N. Bellah's scornful term. We seem to be terribly fragile now. A friend fulfills her duty, we suppose, by taking our side—validating our feelings, supporting our decisions, helping us to feel good about ourselves. We tell white lies, make excuses when a friend does something wrong, do what we can to keep the boat steady. We're busy people; we want our friendships fun and friction-free ….

With the social-networking sites of the new century—Friendster and MySpace were launched in 2003, Facebook in 2004—the friendship circle has expanded to engulf the whole of the social world, and in so doing, destroyed both its own nature and that of the individual friendship itself. Facebook's very premise—and promise—is that it makes our friendship circles visible. There they are, my friends, all in the same place. Except, of course, they're not in the same place, or, rather, they're not my friends. They're a [superficial likeness or semblance] of my friends—little dehydrated packets of images and information, no more my friends than a set of baseball cards is the New York Mets ….

Deresiewicz concludes: 'Friendship is devolving, in other words, from a relationship to a feeling—from something people share to something each of us hugs privately to ourselves in the loneliness of our electronic caves.'"

-- Jerry De Luca, Montreal West, Quebec, Canada; source: William Deresiewicz,
"Faux Friendship," The Chronicle of Higher Education (12-6-09)

I'm not planning to give up Facebook anytime soon.  But this reminds me to truly value and nurture genuine, soul-transforming friendship, and not settle for any superficial imitation.

My friends, please know that I am grateful for the unconditional love and support that have been shown to me.  But we must not stop there.  A friendship is only true when we're willing to risk sometimes-scary conversations as we lovingly challenge each other to more fully live according to what we say we believe and value.

-- Debi

Learning From the Speechless

I went to the dentist a few weeks back.  In the waiting room was a framed little sign that read something like this:

Blessed are those who converse with the helplessly mute,

for they will be called dentists.

I smiled because I relate.  I've been serving in a chaplaincy role at a VA Medical Center in Salt Lake City.  In the course of my ministry there, I often meet people who have been intubated and cannot speak.  Often they also cannot write, due to immobility or weakness or tremors.  It creates unique challenges, calling for lots of patience and creativity on all sides.

And you know something?  I am indeed blessed in the process.  I am becoming more empathetic; learning to listen better, and to "listen" even when people cannot speak; realizing how many of my words are useless and focusing more on the ones that matter.  I am so very grateful for the many patients who have been teaching me.

-- Debi