Yeah, I saw the video and read the story about the North Carolina dad who blasted his daughter's laptop to smithereens. Yeah, I also admit to chuckling about it too.
Story here.
Folks have been all over this this story, and most of the comments I have heard are positive. Dad is being a parent and not a friend. Did he go too far? Not in my book.
A few weeks ago, my youngest two kids were having a terrible time listening when getting ready for school. It seems like their new Christmas toys were much more satisfying to play with than getting their shoes on, packing their backpacks, and getting all their other stuff together before leaving. Even verbal prompting from parents had absolutely no effect on them. "Cranky the Crane" (from Thomas and Friends) and Woody (from Toy Story) were much more fun to deal with.
So, Dad took action. After the six or seventh failure to listen, Daddy marched into the living room and announced in no uncertain terms, "Since you can't and won't listen to Mom and Dad, Cranky and Woody are going to the trash!"
Weeping and gnashing of teeth ensued.
Two little children followed their Daddy to the trash can screaming, "No, Daddy no!" the entire way. They watched as I placed Cranky beside the trash and Woody inside the can. Then, I herded them back to the living room.
Weeping and gnashing of teeth did not abate. They continued throughout the morning as the kids finally prepared for school.
Did we end up throwing the toys away? No. Not quite. We informed the children they could earn their toys back, which they did. But have I had a problem with kids playing with toys instead of getting ready for school again? Have they failed to listen to me when I have told them to get their shoes on?
Nope.
Point made.
Am I prepared to do it again, this time to follow all the way through? Yep. You bet.
Some may decry the destruction of material things that hard earned money was spent on, but there is a principle that is more important: until a kid is on his or her own, Mom and Dad's rules are to be followed, and sometimes object lessons are more powerful even if they cost a little bit of money. (Jesus' teaching on the worthlessness of possessions really helps one follow through with such things, BTW.)
I'm hoping such lessons at an early age will prevent such measures as they get older, but who knows? Kids always push their parents' boundaries, and parents have to back up those boundaries. Even if it means using a laptop for target practice.
(p.s. Dave, if you read this one, I remembered very well the story you told about your dad and the comb.)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Thinking About Turning the Other Cheek
A few days ago, a Facebook friend posted this link about a restaurant owner who kicked out a Tennessee congressman who made inflammatory remarks about gays and lesbians:
http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/01/30/restaurant-owner-kicks-out-anti-gay-tn-senator-over-offensive-comments-about-homosexuals-video/
I mulled over this post for quite some time as I realized the deep conflict within me. One part of me realizes I would probably do the same thing. The times someone has used a position of power to poke fun at me, my faith, my personhood, or even my daughters' skin color has raised a level of anger within me that is no laughing matter. Thoughts of revenge or spitefulness fill my head quickly, and I get a bit of self-satisfaction from picturing myself pummelling whoever said such remarks. It's safe to say that if I were in a position of power at those moments, such thoughts might indeed become reality.
The second part of me reaches into the faith Christ taught His followers about turning the other cheek. Instinctively, I hit the "eye for an eye," but Jesus calls me (and His disciples) to walk another path. Much good work has gone into understanding Jesus' comments, but as I reflected upon this story and my own reactions, I believe I was led to another understanding--an understanding that has to do with power.
Usually bullies and others who make inflammatory, derogatory, and false accusations do so because they believe they have a position of power or authority and will receive no repercussions. In a sense, they are in charge and in control when they make their comments. Those who receive them build up anger and resentment quickly, and if the tables are turned where the "powerless" becomes "powerful" then watch out. Justice will be served.
This is exactly what happened in the above article. The restaurant owner has a smidgen of power, albeit not as much as the congressman, but it was still power to exact a note of revenge. Note: she doesn't call it so. She calls it standing up to a bully and showing someone what it feels like to be discriminated against. The first part, maybe. The second part is as good a definition of an eye for an eye as it gets!
Jesus, I think, understands our nature when it comes to this. Jesus understands our anger and frustration and our desire to exact our own form of justice, but He expects His followers to be different. He expects us to turn the other cheek. Why?
As I thought about this more, I thought about a video entitled "Dust" by Rob Bell. In it, he speaks about the Rabbinical Tradition of ancient Judaism. Long and short of the matter, Rob is convinced Jesus is part of this tradition, and I think Rob is onto something. The Rabbi would go around picking his students with the expectation they would become as much like him as possible. This meant, they would not only teach the things he taught, but they would do the things he did.
Think about that for a moment when it comes to Jesus calling His disciples--not only would they teach what He taught, but they would DO what He DID. Healing, casting out demons, curing leprosy, making the deaf hear, the lame walk, and the blind see, raising the dead, walking on water, feeding the hungry, walking on water, calming the storm--all these things Jesus figured the disciples could do. The Book of Acts actually shows this happening! If we take such notions seriously, then Jesus was talking about having real power--the power of God. Such power requires great discipline to use.
Our human nature would be to use such power to bring about our own form of justice--an eye for an eye. But Jesus' nature is to use it differently. Jesus' nature is to work to bring about compassion even when derided by others. It's a tough act to follow.
In fact, I'd almost argue that one of the reasons we don't see many acts of healing and power in our churches in the U.S. these days is we're not much for turning the other cheek these days. Not many of us have the discipline to wield such power in the manner Jesus describes. We're into justice. We're into the eye for an eye thing. Our dreams of power turn to revenge and retribution and righting the wrongs. I know I am, and it's tough to admit that.
I, like that restaurant owner, have a ways to go in overcoming such things. Perhaps, by the grace of God, I'll get there one day.
http://www.addictinginfo.org/2012/01/30/restaurant-owner-kicks-out-anti-gay-tn-senator-over-offensive-comments-about-homosexuals-video/
I mulled over this post for quite some time as I realized the deep conflict within me. One part of me realizes I would probably do the same thing. The times someone has used a position of power to poke fun at me, my faith, my personhood, or even my daughters' skin color has raised a level of anger within me that is no laughing matter. Thoughts of revenge or spitefulness fill my head quickly, and I get a bit of self-satisfaction from picturing myself pummelling whoever said such remarks. It's safe to say that if I were in a position of power at those moments, such thoughts might indeed become reality.
The second part of me reaches into the faith Christ taught His followers about turning the other cheek. Instinctively, I hit the "eye for an eye," but Jesus calls me (and His disciples) to walk another path. Much good work has gone into understanding Jesus' comments, but as I reflected upon this story and my own reactions, I believe I was led to another understanding--an understanding that has to do with power.
Usually bullies and others who make inflammatory, derogatory, and false accusations do so because they believe they have a position of power or authority and will receive no repercussions. In a sense, they are in charge and in control when they make their comments. Those who receive them build up anger and resentment quickly, and if the tables are turned where the "powerless" becomes "powerful" then watch out. Justice will be served.
This is exactly what happened in the above article. The restaurant owner has a smidgen of power, albeit not as much as the congressman, but it was still power to exact a note of revenge. Note: she doesn't call it so. She calls it standing up to a bully and showing someone what it feels like to be discriminated against. The first part, maybe. The second part is as good a definition of an eye for an eye as it gets!
Jesus, I think, understands our nature when it comes to this. Jesus understands our anger and frustration and our desire to exact our own form of justice, but He expects His followers to be different. He expects us to turn the other cheek. Why?
As I thought about this more, I thought about a video entitled "Dust" by Rob Bell. In it, he speaks about the Rabbinical Tradition of ancient Judaism. Long and short of the matter, Rob is convinced Jesus is part of this tradition, and I think Rob is onto something. The Rabbi would go around picking his students with the expectation they would become as much like him as possible. This meant, they would not only teach the things he taught, but they would do the things he did.
Think about that for a moment when it comes to Jesus calling His disciples--not only would they teach what He taught, but they would DO what He DID. Healing, casting out demons, curing leprosy, making the deaf hear, the lame walk, and the blind see, raising the dead, walking on water, feeding the hungry, walking on water, calming the storm--all these things Jesus figured the disciples could do. The Book of Acts actually shows this happening! If we take such notions seriously, then Jesus was talking about having real power--the power of God. Such power requires great discipline to use.
Our human nature would be to use such power to bring about our own form of justice--an eye for an eye. But Jesus' nature is to use it differently. Jesus' nature is to work to bring about compassion even when derided by others. It's a tough act to follow.
In fact, I'd almost argue that one of the reasons we don't see many acts of healing and power in our churches in the U.S. these days is we're not much for turning the other cheek these days. Not many of us have the discipline to wield such power in the manner Jesus describes. We're into justice. We're into the eye for an eye thing. Our dreams of power turn to revenge and retribution and righting the wrongs. I know I am, and it's tough to admit that.
I, like that restaurant owner, have a ways to go in overcoming such things. Perhaps, by the grace of God, I'll get there one day.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
I'm Not Going to Church Anymore
At least not after I read this snippet from Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America by Mike Yankoski:
12For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. 14Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many....27Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. --1 Corinthians 12: 12-14, 27
Yes, the Church is the body of Christ in the world. I knew this. I have for quite some time. Yet, I still have been guilty of encouraging my folks to invite people to come to church. I have been guilty of encouraging people to go to church. Of course, I am also guilty of encouraging my congregation to be the Church--to be Jesus' disciples. I guess I have tried to hold these things in dynamic tension persistently holding onto the idea that going to church was somehow equivalent of being the church.
But it's not. Going to church is worship. Worship is something someone who is part of the Church does. One can go to worship and sing hymns, give an offering, and listen to a sermon without ever being a part of the Church. This was evidenced by several stories Mike told in his book.
As a little background, Mike and his friend Sam decided to spend four months living on the streets, walking away from everything they knew. They panhandled for meals, dug through the trash to eat, and associated with the outcasts of society. Becoming outcasts themselves, they experienced what it was like to be looked down upon because of the way they looked, smelled, and lived. Some of it was not pretty--especially their treatment in several churches.
Now, they did have some good experiences, and they share it, but one story vividly portrays my point earlier about being a part of the Church. Mike and Sam went to worship one Sunday morning. They were both hungry. Mike had a busted flip-flop and a wound on his foot that had bled. They appropriated a place in the congregation, but before worship started, Sam approached the minister and sought assistance in getting something to eat. He returned steamed because the pastor told him they couldn't do that because it would detract from their mission and purpose. After worship, several men in the congregation engaged Mike and Sam, and Mike did a little experiment. He took off his busted flip-flop and proceeded to talk about how it was busted and how his sore had bled and needed attention. The guys around them looked around a little uncomfortable with the situation. They acknowledged how badly the foot looked and the need for new shoes, but then said, "Well, pray for you.", and walked off.
The folks there went to church, but they weren't being Church. Big difference.
I thought about this long and hard throughout the evening yesterday and this morning. I've decided I'm not going to church anymore. Instead, I'm going to focus on being the Church. Sure, I'll still lead worship and attend worship regularly. That's part of being the Church, but that's just a small slice of the pie. I'm not content with just one slice--I want the entire deal--for better or for worse. I want my life to be a reflection of the One who called me. I want Him to work through me to help bring healing and hope to the world. I am not content to think that folks need to go to church to experience Christ's love--no. If I--and all Christians--are being the Church, the body of Christ, then folks will experience that love no matter where we are.
I'm not going to church anymore.
By the grace of God, I'm going to be the Church.
We don't go to church, we are the church. So many problems that show up on the church steps, or in the pews, or between congregations seem to start with misunderstandings about that. The church isn't a physical building or a doctrinal statement or a perfectly produced program. It is us--we are the living expression of Christ's presence in the world, His body. The sooner we realize that, the sooner we'll be able to be the healing body of Christ in our sin-sick world. p. 164I stopped in my tracks when I read this. I had to read it several times because of its impact on my thoughts. Not because this statement was anything different than I truly believed. I mean, I'm very Pauline in my theology, and St. Paul penned one of the greatest analogies in the Bible when it comes to what the Church is:
12For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. 14Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many....27Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. --1 Corinthians 12: 12-14, 27
Yes, the Church is the body of Christ in the world. I knew this. I have for quite some time. Yet, I still have been guilty of encouraging my folks to invite people to come to church. I have been guilty of encouraging people to go to church. Of course, I am also guilty of encouraging my congregation to be the Church--to be Jesus' disciples. I guess I have tried to hold these things in dynamic tension persistently holding onto the idea that going to church was somehow equivalent of being the church.
But it's not. Going to church is worship. Worship is something someone who is part of the Church does. One can go to worship and sing hymns, give an offering, and listen to a sermon without ever being a part of the Church. This was evidenced by several stories Mike told in his book.
As a little background, Mike and his friend Sam decided to spend four months living on the streets, walking away from everything they knew. They panhandled for meals, dug through the trash to eat, and associated with the outcasts of society. Becoming outcasts themselves, they experienced what it was like to be looked down upon because of the way they looked, smelled, and lived. Some of it was not pretty--especially their treatment in several churches.
Now, they did have some good experiences, and they share it, but one story vividly portrays my point earlier about being a part of the Church. Mike and Sam went to worship one Sunday morning. They were both hungry. Mike had a busted flip-flop and a wound on his foot that had bled. They appropriated a place in the congregation, but before worship started, Sam approached the minister and sought assistance in getting something to eat. He returned steamed because the pastor told him they couldn't do that because it would detract from their mission and purpose. After worship, several men in the congregation engaged Mike and Sam, and Mike did a little experiment. He took off his busted flip-flop and proceeded to talk about how it was busted and how his sore had bled and needed attention. The guys around them looked around a little uncomfortable with the situation. They acknowledged how badly the foot looked and the need for new shoes, but then said, "Well, pray for you.", and walked off.
The folks there went to church, but they weren't being Church. Big difference.
I thought about this long and hard throughout the evening yesterday and this morning. I've decided I'm not going to church anymore. Instead, I'm going to focus on being the Church. Sure, I'll still lead worship and attend worship regularly. That's part of being the Church, but that's just a small slice of the pie. I'm not content with just one slice--I want the entire deal--for better or for worse. I want my life to be a reflection of the One who called me. I want Him to work through me to help bring healing and hope to the world. I am not content to think that folks need to go to church to experience Christ's love--no. If I--and all Christians--are being the Church, the body of Christ, then folks will experience that love no matter where we are.
I'm not going to church anymore.
By the grace of God, I'm going to be the Church.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Making a Connection
In the past couple of days, I've been in a little debate about the meaning of Jesus' story about the Widow's Might:
41He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 44For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” --Mark 12: 41-44
The generally accepted interpretation of this text is one of stewardship. This widow gave everything to God, and Jesus is praising her for doing so. She trusts God enough to give everything she has to live on, and, the implication is, we should do the same.
I had a seminary professor who disagreed with this interpretation. He argued that Jesus is not praising the widow but condemning the temple system which demanded a person tithe in order to be in God's good graces. He based this upon the historical understanding of what was taught by the temple system at the time and a mistranslation of the ancient Greek. The last few words are literally translated, "put in everything she had, her entire life." This meant she now had three choices: beg, become a prostitute, or die for she had no money to buy food. As such, my professor argued this text was a justice text condemning religious practices that forced the poor to give money to be accepted by God.
Of course, my prof's argument does go against many years of standard interpretation, but the argument he made was compelling. In fact, I bought it. But things began to change for me as I thought it over during my morning bike ride as I considered a couple of other things--especially in regard to the other folks "giving out of their abundance."
Thing #1: Another teaching of Jesus popped into my head which I think could be related:
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. --Matthew 23:23
Thing #2: A story about Mother Teresa in Mary Poplin's book: Finding Calcutta:
Mother told of a time when she spoke at a conference on world hunger in Bombay. "I was supposed to go to that meeting and I lost the way. Suddenly I came to that place, and right in front of the door to where hundreds of people were talking about food and hunger, I found a dying man, I took him out and I took him home. He died there. He died of hunger. And the people inside were talking about how in fifteen years we will have so much food, so much this, so much that, and that man died. See the difference. pg. 90
Look at these three stories/teachings side by side, and see if you make the connection. Do you see what Jesus is seeing? Do you see the one in need and the failure of the temple, the tithers, and our interpretations years later to see her as well?
Right under our noses is one who is in need--who has given her whole life. The temple is oblivious to her. The tithers are oblivious to her. We are oblivious to her. The temple is celebrating it got one more penny. The tithers are self-absorbed in believing they are honoring God. We are praising the widow for giving everything and depending upon God or railing against the temple system for making her pay.
What if Jesus is criticizing all of us and saying, "Here is a child of God in need. Do something about it!"? And what if we are failing to make the connections?
41He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. 42A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. 43Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. 44For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” --Mark 12: 41-44
The generally accepted interpretation of this text is one of stewardship. This widow gave everything to God, and Jesus is praising her for doing so. She trusts God enough to give everything she has to live on, and, the implication is, we should do the same.
I had a seminary professor who disagreed with this interpretation. He argued that Jesus is not praising the widow but condemning the temple system which demanded a person tithe in order to be in God's good graces. He based this upon the historical understanding of what was taught by the temple system at the time and a mistranslation of the ancient Greek. The last few words are literally translated, "put in everything she had, her entire life." This meant she now had three choices: beg, become a prostitute, or die for she had no money to buy food. As such, my professor argued this text was a justice text condemning religious practices that forced the poor to give money to be accepted by God.
Of course, my prof's argument does go against many years of standard interpretation, but the argument he made was compelling. In fact, I bought it. But things began to change for me as I thought it over during my morning bike ride as I considered a couple of other things--especially in regard to the other folks "giving out of their abundance."
Thing #1: Another teaching of Jesus popped into my head which I think could be related:
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. --Matthew 23:23
Thing #2: A story about Mother Teresa in Mary Poplin's book: Finding Calcutta:
Mother told of a time when she spoke at a conference on world hunger in Bombay. "I was supposed to go to that meeting and I lost the way. Suddenly I came to that place, and right in front of the door to where hundreds of people were talking about food and hunger, I found a dying man, I took him out and I took him home. He died there. He died of hunger. And the people inside were talking about how in fifteen years we will have so much food, so much this, so much that, and that man died. See the difference. pg. 90
Look at these three stories/teachings side by side, and see if you make the connection. Do you see what Jesus is seeing? Do you see the one in need and the failure of the temple, the tithers, and our interpretations years later to see her as well?
Right under our noses is one who is in need--who has given her whole life. The temple is oblivious to her. The tithers are oblivious to her. We are oblivious to her. The temple is celebrating it got one more penny. The tithers are self-absorbed in believing they are honoring God. We are praising the widow for giving everything and depending upon God or railing against the temple system for making her pay.
What if Jesus is criticizing all of us and saying, "Here is a child of God in need. Do something about it!"? And what if we are failing to make the connections?
Monday, February 6, 2012
Sermon Delivered 2/5/2012 : Everyone was Looking for Jesus
Everyone was searching for Jesus. At least that’s what we are told in today’s Gospel lesson. Jesus had only been teaching and preaching for a short time. He had begun proclaiming, "The time is at hand, the Kingdom of God has come near! Repent and believe in the good news!" He went to the synagogue, and he preached with authority. He exercised that authority by casting out evil spirits and healing the sick. Weary with His work, He arose early in the morning to recharge His batteries. He went to go to the source of this power–His Father in heaven. He went to a deserted place to connect, to pray. And there He lingered, getting direction, getting strength, and making sure His heart aligned with His Father’s. His time spent in solitude was interrupted by His disciples who came and said, "Everyone is searching for you."
It’s not surprising, really. If you believe as I do, there literally is a God shaped hole in each and every one of us. We long and desire to have it filled. Unfortunately, most of the time we don’t turn to God. We turn to all sorts of other things that provide temporary relief. We try to fill that hole with money. We try to fill that hole with work. We try to fill that hole with another person. We try to fill that hole with hobbies and sports. We try to fill that hole by escaping to various destinations away from our real lives. Sooner or later, we realize the futility of doing such things. Sooner or later we realize the fixes are just temporary. We realize this when the hunger becomes consuming and the things that once soothed it no longer work. And when something comes up offering us the promise of satisfaction. We jump at the chance. I am positive part of the reason everyone was searching for Jesus was exactly this aspect of human nature.
But it’s not the only reason. Far from it. For I believe folks were also searching for Jesus to experience healing. One day, while sitting in the office, I happened upon a Youtube video about a revival preacher in Florida. Many were flocking to his tents to hear him preach and experience the healing that was supposedly taking place amongst those who gathered. I watched as a mother brought her son forward. He had been stricken with a debilitating illness that left him crippled. He could barely stand. With effort, he could manage a step or two. Doctors could do nothing else, and the parents believed that God, through the touch of this evangelist would heal him. The video showed the boy go on stage. The evangelist touched him, and the boy was "slain in the Spirit." As the video progressed, the evangelist laid hands on him once more, and the boy’s feet and arms shook as though an electric charge was running through them. Finally, the boy stood, and the crowd went wild. A few moments later, the camera focused on the boy once again. He was in the back of the tent trying to dance and sway and participate in the worship. He could barely stand once again, but his mom was convinced he was stronger now. They clung to that hope because of their desperation.
When folks heard Jesus was casting out evil spirits and was healing the sick, they too came out of their desperation. There were few doctors. The mortality rate was sickeningly low. Children died as often as they lived. A high fever was often a death sentence. Blindness, deafness, and leprosy were considered curses from God. Folks who lived with such chronic disease had no hope other than a small one that God would eventually remove this curse from them and restore them to community. Jesus offered that hope. Jesus had cured the sick and had cast out the evil spirits. He could do so for them as well. They came searching.
And of course, Jesus doesn’t disappoint. Sure, we are told that He doesn’t stay in that area, but he moves around. He heads from town to town, village to village to proclaim the gospel. When he is there, He heals the sick and casts out demons. He offers people hope as He fills the God shaped hole with His preaching and he offers hope as he cures disease and casts out demons. It’s not too long that we read of people coming together from the surrounding villages and countryside to produce a crowd of five thousand men plus women and children. Indeed, people from everywhere were searching for Jesus.
But are they still searching for Him? Are people still trying to fill that God-shaped hole? Are people still trying to find healing? Has human nature changed in the last 2000 years so that such things are no longer relevant? We know the answer to those questions. We know people are still searching. We know people are still trying to fill that hole. We know people are still striving to find hope and healing not only for their bodies but for their minds and souls as well. We know people are searching for meaning and for purpose. We know people are searching for hope in the middle of all the stress, all the anxiety, all the rushing back and forth from place to place, and the feeling of being stuck on a treadmill without every getting from point a to point b. Yes, people are still searching, but where are they going to find such things?
If you look at the trends of churches in the U.S., you would be hard pressed to say that they are finding Jesus at church. That might seem blasphemous, but the latest numbers show that there is minimal growth in most denominations. Most are in decline. Most congregations are stagnant to declining as well. Very few are actually growing and thriving, and among those many are thriving not because they are bringing in unchurched and de-churched folks. Instead, they are playing membership shuffle with other congregations. The church doesn’t seem to be growing even as the population itself is. Why? What is going on if the population is increasing and people are still searching? Why aren’t they turning to the church to find what Jesus offers?
This, I think, is where things get tough for you and me. Because this means we must look deeply into the mirror and examine ourselves. We must examine our lives. We must examine our hearts. We must look deep within us and see if we are different from the rest of the world.
Do we as Christians show that our God-shaped holes are filled? Or do we act like those who are still searching?
Do we as Christians show that we have found hope and meaning and purpose? Or do we go about as
though we have no idea on earth why we are here?
Do we as Christians show that we have found healing–not in the sense that we are free from all illness and ailments, but that we know the peace that comes from having hope in the midst of suffering? Are our spirits
healed so that we no longer despair?
Do we as Christians have a sense of peace and humility about us knowing that we could have never come to such a place without coming into contact with Jesus Himself, and do we have compassion upon those who are still seeking? Do we have compassion or contempt? Our attitude will matter immensely when we come into contact with those who are searching for Jesus.
And do we expect that we constantly meet Jesus? Do we expect that even though we have found Him and been found by Him, do we consistently seek to grow in our knowledge of Him? Do we seek to meet Him at church, at work, at play, in our families? Do we seek to walk with Him daily?
I am going to go out on a limb here and say that if those who are seeking see that we are no different from them, then they will continue their search. They will continue to abandon our congregations and churches and continually wander. But, if they see that we indeed have found Jesus–that we have experienced His love and mercy and that we truly seek to show that love and mercy to others so that through us they may find Jesus as well, their search will be over. Amen.
It’s not surprising, really. If you believe as I do, there literally is a God shaped hole in each and every one of us. We long and desire to have it filled. Unfortunately, most of the time we don’t turn to God. We turn to all sorts of other things that provide temporary relief. We try to fill that hole with money. We try to fill that hole with work. We try to fill that hole with another person. We try to fill that hole with hobbies and sports. We try to fill that hole by escaping to various destinations away from our real lives. Sooner or later, we realize the futility of doing such things. Sooner or later we realize the fixes are just temporary. We realize this when the hunger becomes consuming and the things that once soothed it no longer work. And when something comes up offering us the promise of satisfaction. We jump at the chance. I am positive part of the reason everyone was searching for Jesus was exactly this aspect of human nature.
But it’s not the only reason. Far from it. For I believe folks were also searching for Jesus to experience healing. One day, while sitting in the office, I happened upon a Youtube video about a revival preacher in Florida. Many were flocking to his tents to hear him preach and experience the healing that was supposedly taking place amongst those who gathered. I watched as a mother brought her son forward. He had been stricken with a debilitating illness that left him crippled. He could barely stand. With effort, he could manage a step or two. Doctors could do nothing else, and the parents believed that God, through the touch of this evangelist would heal him. The video showed the boy go on stage. The evangelist touched him, and the boy was "slain in the Spirit." As the video progressed, the evangelist laid hands on him once more, and the boy’s feet and arms shook as though an electric charge was running through them. Finally, the boy stood, and the crowd went wild. A few moments later, the camera focused on the boy once again. He was in the back of the tent trying to dance and sway and participate in the worship. He could barely stand once again, but his mom was convinced he was stronger now. They clung to that hope because of their desperation.
When folks heard Jesus was casting out evil spirits and was healing the sick, they too came out of their desperation. There were few doctors. The mortality rate was sickeningly low. Children died as often as they lived. A high fever was often a death sentence. Blindness, deafness, and leprosy were considered curses from God. Folks who lived with such chronic disease had no hope other than a small one that God would eventually remove this curse from them and restore them to community. Jesus offered that hope. Jesus had cured the sick and had cast out the evil spirits. He could do so for them as well. They came searching.
And of course, Jesus doesn’t disappoint. Sure, we are told that He doesn’t stay in that area, but he moves around. He heads from town to town, village to village to proclaim the gospel. When he is there, He heals the sick and casts out demons. He offers people hope as He fills the God shaped hole with His preaching and he offers hope as he cures disease and casts out demons. It’s not too long that we read of people coming together from the surrounding villages and countryside to produce a crowd of five thousand men plus women and children. Indeed, people from everywhere were searching for Jesus.
But are they still searching for Him? Are people still trying to fill that God-shaped hole? Are people still trying to find healing? Has human nature changed in the last 2000 years so that such things are no longer relevant? We know the answer to those questions. We know people are still searching. We know people are still trying to fill that hole. We know people are still striving to find hope and healing not only for their bodies but for their minds and souls as well. We know people are searching for meaning and for purpose. We know people are searching for hope in the middle of all the stress, all the anxiety, all the rushing back and forth from place to place, and the feeling of being stuck on a treadmill without every getting from point a to point b. Yes, people are still searching, but where are they going to find such things?
If you look at the trends of churches in the U.S., you would be hard pressed to say that they are finding Jesus at church. That might seem blasphemous, but the latest numbers show that there is minimal growth in most denominations. Most are in decline. Most congregations are stagnant to declining as well. Very few are actually growing and thriving, and among those many are thriving not because they are bringing in unchurched and de-churched folks. Instead, they are playing membership shuffle with other congregations. The church doesn’t seem to be growing even as the population itself is. Why? What is going on if the population is increasing and people are still searching? Why aren’t they turning to the church to find what Jesus offers?
This, I think, is where things get tough for you and me. Because this means we must look deeply into the mirror and examine ourselves. We must examine our lives. We must examine our hearts. We must look deep within us and see if we are different from the rest of the world.
Do we as Christians show that our God-shaped holes are filled? Or do we act like those who are still searching?
Do we as Christians show that we have found hope and meaning and purpose? Or do we go about as
though we have no idea on earth why we are here?
Do we as Christians show that we have found healing–not in the sense that we are free from all illness and ailments, but that we know the peace that comes from having hope in the midst of suffering? Are our spirits
healed so that we no longer despair?
Do we as Christians have a sense of peace and humility about us knowing that we could have never come to such a place without coming into contact with Jesus Himself, and do we have compassion upon those who are still seeking? Do we have compassion or contempt? Our attitude will matter immensely when we come into contact with those who are searching for Jesus.
And do we expect that we constantly meet Jesus? Do we expect that even though we have found Him and been found by Him, do we consistently seek to grow in our knowledge of Him? Do we seek to meet Him at church, at work, at play, in our families? Do we seek to walk with Him daily?
I am going to go out on a limb here and say that if those who are seeking see that we are no different from them, then they will continue their search. They will continue to abandon our congregations and churches and continually wander. But, if they see that we indeed have found Jesus–that we have experienced His love and mercy and that we truly seek to show that love and mercy to others so that through us they may find Jesus as well, their search will be over. Amen.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
There is a Problem with Too Much Change
Recently, I have begun to appreciate the point of view of those within churches who complain that too many things have changed too quickly. Interestingly enough, it was computer games that caused my appreciation.
I am not necessarily what some would call a gamer. Do I play video games? Sure, but it's no longer something that consumes hours upon hours of my time as it once did. Part of it has to do with time constraints, and a refocus on more important things in life. I mean, when suddenly your family explodes from two adults and two dogs to two adults, three kids and three dogs, other things become much more of a priority. One has fewer moments for games when dinner needs to be cooked, homework needs to be done, and kids need help building train tracks, playing outside, or riding bicycles. Such things are much more important than manipulating pixels on a computer or television set.
The other reason my game time slipped substantially has to do with change, and here is where my sympathy has grown for those who resist change in church or society in general.
It seems like every two or three years Microsoft decides to upgrade Windows. I've been through numerous transitions (3.0, 3.1, '95, '98, 2000, XP, Vista, and now 7). During the early years, I fell in love with several games which wasted hours of my time: Civilization 1, Civilization 2, UFO Defense, Colonization, Jedi Academy, and Knights of the Old Republic. There was just enough of a mental challenge to keep me engaged and just enough repetitiveness to make things mindless. The balance was perfect, and I enjoyed these games immensely.
But as graphic capabilities increased and processor speeds became faster and faster allowing higher resolution games, programmers decided to make such games more complicated with better graphics. It's understandable, but there is also something to be said for the simplicity of such games. I bought Civilization 3, played it through once or twice, and then quit. It just wasn't as fun for me. Games in the same vein as UFO Defense caught my eye from time to time, but they too lacked some of the pure fun and enjoyment of the original. Reviews of the newer Colonization said it stunk, so I didn't even waste my money on it. I bought Knights of the Old Republic II and was disappointed because it seemed like the game was hurriedly put out without much thought to the story, and I anxiously awaited The Old Republic's debut earlier this year. However, I haven't purchased it, and I more than likely won't. Why?
Well, The Old Republic is now an online gaming world. I don't want that. When I play on the computer, I want to do so without the rest of the gaming world watching. I don't necessarily play well with others. And, in my experience, when you play with others, they oftentimes quit and let you down--Hello Farmtown! (As an aside, I quit that business when the programmers started adding all sorts of extras which took the game away from farming into industry. Furthermore, they started setting aside certain items to be used only by buying them with Farm Cash. It became too complicated and way too much of a time suck!) While trying to make things new and inventive and exciting, oftentimes, in my humble opinion, such games become overly complicated for a simpleton like myself.
Throw in all those Windows updates now. For one of the things that happens when Windows updates is a compatibility issue. Games produced for earlier versions of Windows won't work with the new stuff. I know that each set has a compatibility setting, but those darn things really don't work on the games I like. Therefore, when one of my laptops died, I had my buddy reset the thing and install Windows XP. At least some of my favorites will actually run on that one.
Which brings me to the point about change in congregations. In a rapidly changing culture, many congregations feel the need to rapidly change as well. New items are added to worship. New programs are started up. Technology is added. More staff are hired. Before you know it, some folks are scratching their heads asking, "What the hell happened to the congregation I joined? This one bears no resemblance to it at all! It's not simple anymore. It's too complex." Sometimes, folks leave because of this.
I understand. I really do.
I don't play as many games as I used to because of the rapid change. There's a similarity there, and I sympathize.
Does this mean I'll try to prevent my congregation from growing and reaching out? No. But it does mean I will be a little more sensitive when I hear folks talking about too much change, and if it is in my power, I'll make sure there is a place where the old ways are not forgotten.
I am not necessarily what some would call a gamer. Do I play video games? Sure, but it's no longer something that consumes hours upon hours of my time as it once did. Part of it has to do with time constraints, and a refocus on more important things in life. I mean, when suddenly your family explodes from two adults and two dogs to two adults, three kids and three dogs, other things become much more of a priority. One has fewer moments for games when dinner needs to be cooked, homework needs to be done, and kids need help building train tracks, playing outside, or riding bicycles. Such things are much more important than manipulating pixels on a computer or television set.
The other reason my game time slipped substantially has to do with change, and here is where my sympathy has grown for those who resist change in church or society in general.
It seems like every two or three years Microsoft decides to upgrade Windows. I've been through numerous transitions (3.0, 3.1, '95, '98, 2000, XP, Vista, and now 7). During the early years, I fell in love with several games which wasted hours of my time: Civilization 1, Civilization 2, UFO Defense, Colonization, Jedi Academy, and Knights of the Old Republic. There was just enough of a mental challenge to keep me engaged and just enough repetitiveness to make things mindless. The balance was perfect, and I enjoyed these games immensely.
But as graphic capabilities increased and processor speeds became faster and faster allowing higher resolution games, programmers decided to make such games more complicated with better graphics. It's understandable, but there is also something to be said for the simplicity of such games. I bought Civilization 3, played it through once or twice, and then quit. It just wasn't as fun for me. Games in the same vein as UFO Defense caught my eye from time to time, but they too lacked some of the pure fun and enjoyment of the original. Reviews of the newer Colonization said it stunk, so I didn't even waste my money on it. I bought Knights of the Old Republic II and was disappointed because it seemed like the game was hurriedly put out without much thought to the story, and I anxiously awaited The Old Republic's debut earlier this year. However, I haven't purchased it, and I more than likely won't. Why?
Well, The Old Republic is now an online gaming world. I don't want that. When I play on the computer, I want to do so without the rest of the gaming world watching. I don't necessarily play well with others. And, in my experience, when you play with others, they oftentimes quit and let you down--Hello Farmtown! (As an aside, I quit that business when the programmers started adding all sorts of extras which took the game away from farming into industry. Furthermore, they started setting aside certain items to be used only by buying them with Farm Cash. It became too complicated and way too much of a time suck!) While trying to make things new and inventive and exciting, oftentimes, in my humble opinion, such games become overly complicated for a simpleton like myself.
Throw in all those Windows updates now. For one of the things that happens when Windows updates is a compatibility issue. Games produced for earlier versions of Windows won't work with the new stuff. I know that each set has a compatibility setting, but those darn things really don't work on the games I like. Therefore, when one of my laptops died, I had my buddy reset the thing and install Windows XP. At least some of my favorites will actually run on that one.
Which brings me to the point about change in congregations. In a rapidly changing culture, many congregations feel the need to rapidly change as well. New items are added to worship. New programs are started up. Technology is added. More staff are hired. Before you know it, some folks are scratching their heads asking, "What the hell happened to the congregation I joined? This one bears no resemblance to it at all! It's not simple anymore. It's too complex." Sometimes, folks leave because of this.
I understand. I really do.
I don't play as many games as I used to because of the rapid change. There's a similarity there, and I sympathize.
Does this mean I'll try to prevent my congregation from growing and reaching out? No. But it does mean I will be a little more sensitive when I hear folks talking about too much change, and if it is in my power, I'll make sure there is a place where the old ways are not forgotten.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Did This Really Happen?
Yesterday, I was taken to lunch by one of my congregation members for as Luther would probably put it "mutual conversation and consulation of the bretheren." We talked of many things, and I remember vividly in the midst of the conversation talking about sharing one's faith with another. My comment was something like this, "Well, take that back, most Lutherans are simply content to sit back and say nothing."
I know this to be factual because I am a cradle to mid-life Lutheran. Born and raised in this tradition with all it's good and bad. Fortunately, one side of my family had a little bit of Baptist in it, including several who were Baptist preachers. I'm not afraid to talk about my faith, and for most Lutherans, that's fine. That's what a pastor is supposed to do. The rest of us will keep everything to ourselves, thank you very much.
It's not that Lutherans aren't outgoing and gregarious. Just go to a dance where the polka music and the beer flow liberally. You'll see more than a few good Lutherans letting it all hang out, but ask them about their relationship with God, and things will clam up pretty quickly. I'm not sure exactly why this is the case, but it generally is.
Which is why the irony of last night's women's meeting is not lost upon me. For roughly seven hours after I made the comment about Lutherans keeping tight lips about their faith, the exact opposite happened at the women's meeting
During January, our women reveal their prayer partners for the previous year. It's a rather neat thing they do. All the ladies who desire to put their names in a hat, and they proceed to draw a name for the year. They are then charged with praying for that person for the next year. Before revealing the names of the previous year, a story on prayer was told--one that I had encountered on the internet years ago. Then, the personal stories started.
A grandmother spoke of the time a black Baptist minister prayed with her and her son on the day her granddaughter was life-flighted to Houston with a mysterious, debilitating illness.
A former PICU nurse spoke of prayers of healing which were answered for children who doctors had said there was no hope for.
Another nurse spoke of a series of "conincidence" including a radical medical procedure to deal with a rare disease, an impossible pregnancy, and the child of the pregnancy having to deal with the same disease as mom--and having the same doctor nearly 20 years later minister to both! (And, BTW, both the mom and the child are healthy and happy!)
I remember vividly the statement spoken by the leader last night, "Prayer doesn't only help those you pray for, but it helps you too. It's real."
Those last two words became sort of a theme throughout the rest of the meeting, "It's real."
One of the younger ladies spoke of her frustration in trying to get other ladies to come to the meetings, and then she had a brainstorm, "I figured out, I needed to pray for them. It's real."
These women of faith gathered together and shared stories of how they had encountered God's presence through prayer. It was somewhat of an atypical thing in Lutheran congregations, but I don't think anyone who was there last night came away unaffected by the stories that were shared.
And I didn't have to say a bloody word!!! I could just sit and listen as these ladies shared their testimonies. In a Lutheran Church.
Did this really happen?
Yes. It did.
I know this to be factual because I am a cradle to mid-life Lutheran. Born and raised in this tradition with all it's good and bad. Fortunately, one side of my family had a little bit of Baptist in it, including several who were Baptist preachers. I'm not afraid to talk about my faith, and for most Lutherans, that's fine. That's what a pastor is supposed to do. The rest of us will keep everything to ourselves, thank you very much.
It's not that Lutherans aren't outgoing and gregarious. Just go to a dance where the polka music and the beer flow liberally. You'll see more than a few good Lutherans letting it all hang out, but ask them about their relationship with God, and things will clam up pretty quickly. I'm not sure exactly why this is the case, but it generally is.
Which is why the irony of last night's women's meeting is not lost upon me. For roughly seven hours after I made the comment about Lutherans keeping tight lips about their faith, the exact opposite happened at the women's meeting
During January, our women reveal their prayer partners for the previous year. It's a rather neat thing they do. All the ladies who desire to put their names in a hat, and they proceed to draw a name for the year. They are then charged with praying for that person for the next year. Before revealing the names of the previous year, a story on prayer was told--one that I had encountered on the internet years ago. Then, the personal stories started.
A grandmother spoke of the time a black Baptist minister prayed with her and her son on the day her granddaughter was life-flighted to Houston with a mysterious, debilitating illness.
A former PICU nurse spoke of prayers of healing which were answered for children who doctors had said there was no hope for.
Another nurse spoke of a series of "conincidence" including a radical medical procedure to deal with a rare disease, an impossible pregnancy, and the child of the pregnancy having to deal with the same disease as mom--and having the same doctor nearly 20 years later minister to both! (And, BTW, both the mom and the child are healthy and happy!)
I remember vividly the statement spoken by the leader last night, "Prayer doesn't only help those you pray for, but it helps you too. It's real."
Those last two words became sort of a theme throughout the rest of the meeting, "It's real."
One of the younger ladies spoke of her frustration in trying to get other ladies to come to the meetings, and then she had a brainstorm, "I figured out, I needed to pray for them. It's real."
These women of faith gathered together and shared stories of how they had encountered God's presence through prayer. It was somewhat of an atypical thing in Lutheran congregations, but I don't think anyone who was there last night came away unaffected by the stories that were shared.
And I didn't have to say a bloody word!!! I could just sit and listen as these ladies shared their testimonies. In a Lutheran Church.
Did this really happen?
Yes. It did.
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