Returning to grassy areas...

It's been a while...I know.  Sorry blog-readers!

I have been doing quite a bit of jet-setting since the summer, and am now settled back on the east coast for the holidays.  While I have much to write about regarding those travels, there's a question that plagues my mind that I want to address with you.  It is this:

"Who was the second gunman on the grassy knoll?"

Okay, not really.  But, I do have a question about grassy areas.

Among the travels, I got a sweet copy of the New Testament called "The Voice" at Catalyst (http://www.hearthevoice.com/), and it has been like reading the Bible for the very first time.  I have been going through the book of John, and I was reading in chapter 6.  In the chronology of events according to this book, Jesus has just performed a miracle where he feeds 5,000 people on this grassy knoll, then (at night) he walks on water to his disciples as they leave to Capernaum.

As Jesus and His disciples arrive in Capernaum,
"Other boats were arriving from Tiberais near the grassy area where the Lord offered thanks and passed out bread.  When this crowd could not find Him or His disciples, they boarded their small boats and crossed the sea to Capernaum looking for him.  When they found Jesus across the sea, they questioned Him.


Crowd: Teacher, when did you arrive at Capernaum?


Jesus: I tell you the truth--you are tracking Me down because I fed you, not because you saw signs from God." 
(John 6:23-26; The Voice)

Talk about calling someone out!  I don't know if this hits you the same way it hits me--but I was extremely convicted by these verses.  How many times have I tried to show up again and again to familiar "grassy areas" where I was fed once by Christ, and finding that He has moved on?

How many times have I tried to do the same thing I've always done, expecting God to work in my framework?  How many times have I shown up to the grassy area, and then got upset because I thought "Well, God's just not there anymore."?

Right, because He's moved on and I've refused to move with Him.

We've traded everlasting Bread for mere crouton crumbs and discarded fish bones.  Instead of showing up to old familiar places I expect, perhaps God wants me to come with Him to Capernaum.   (And, it seems he doesn't want me to come so I can get "fed"...but He wants me to come and participate with Him this time in the feeding--the signs from God.)

Jesus goes on to say
"Don't spend your life chasing food that spoils and rots.  Instead, seek the food that lasts into all the ages and comes from the Son of Man., the One on whom God the Father has placed His seal.

Crowd: What do we have to do to accomplish the Father's works?


Jesus: "If you want to do God's work, then believe in the One He sent."
(John 6:27-29, The Voice)

I don't want to stay on the grassy knoll looking for leftovers, when a banquet feast of the Bridegroom awaits.  Do you?

“…Faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is Love…”

Tension.  Last year I went to Catalyst in Atlanta with the staff of the church I work with.  Though choc full of good teaching, I am not a fan of some of the commercialism I feel is experienced there.  However, I am a fan of the theme.  It was called: “The Tension is Good.” 

Most of the time, the tension isn’t good.  Most of us want to resolve tension.  We don’t like being in “limbo” or being in “the in-between.”  I know I sure don’t for the most part.  I don’t like living in the fog of understanding with no clearing in sight.  I often seek understanding so much that I would forget virtues like faith, hope and love so that I might experience an illusion of control that comes with “understanding.”

However, God has really been working on my heart this month with “there is something greater than understanding, and that is love.”  (Brennan Manning, Patched Together: A Story of My Story).

You would think, since I work with a church—and God’s greatest commandment is “Love God. Love people” (paraphrase)—that I would obviously practice this.  However, for as simple as it is stated—it’s not always so easy in practice (aka--impossible without the Holy Spirit).

First Corinthians 13 is a passage that usually gets mistaken as the “marriage” passage in the Bible.  I have been to countless weddings where “Love is patient, love is kind…” is read over and over again for a new husband and wife.  However, as our pastor pointed out one Sunday, the passage was written by a single man.  Paul wrote these words, which I believe describe the character and activity of God—describing the One who is love, and how we are to live in His love.

My favorite part of this passage, however, is the verse that comes after the description of love.  In verse 12 it says:  “Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.  All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.”  I might not understand everything right now—but that doesn’t stop me from being able to love.

Jesus sets the example for loving despite situations that may not make sense.  Just before He is to be crucified, he has a meal with his disciples.  Before they begin the meal, he washes their feet.  Now, at this point, he knows that Judas—one of the disciples who walked with him throughout his ministry—is going to betray Him.  Yet, that doesn’t stop him from washing Judas’ feet.  This makes absolutely no sense.  But, does love ever make sense?

I doubt he washed them with any form of resentment either.  Just washed them with the same love that He showed His other disciples. 

At the onset of the passage in 1 Corinthians 13, it says: “If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.   If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.” 

I can be close to the things of God without love.  I can appear faithful and pious without love.  I can talk the right talk without love.  However, it doesn’t matter how many good deeds I can rack up if I do them without love.  It doesn’t matter how many people I serve, how many books I read, how much faith I have, how many languages I spoke, how much knowledge I possessed—without love…without God—it was for nothing. 

Sometimes, with love as the approach it seems like little gets done.  It gets frustrating at times, and we don’t know always understand or see what’s going on.  But understanding everything right now is not the point.  It seems that the point looks more like this: trusting and being obedient that with God’s love—much always gets accomplished—and hopefully one day He’ll let me see it clearly—even as He sees me clearly now.

Reflections on Communion

This is a reflection from when I served for a year as a full-time volunteer with an organization called "Faith Community."  I worked with homeless and runaway youth, 21 and under.  I love this story so much, and just had to share.  It is from January, 2010.

____________________

I love communion.  I used to just eat my little cracker and drink a cup of juice without really understanding what was going on.  However,not long after I became a Christian, I started asking God “What is this about?”  I mean, I knew what it was about in the sense of the bread is Jesus, the juice is His blood, yadda yadda yadda—but what did that mean to me?  I mean,  I struggled with if I was being a cannibal for a little while, and then God slowly started revealing to me what the act of communion means.  It means many things—too many to recount in a short reflection.

First, and most obviously, communion is a meal.  It is a part of a Passover feast.  It means forgiveness.  His body broken and His blood shed for us all.  It means a saved life, protection, security, promise, being set-apart.  What I have now come to understand more is that it means something broken to bring us all who are broken, back together as whole.

I take a group of youth to church on Saturday nights, and my motley crew of youth this particular outting included a former drug dealer, prostitutes, a stripper, and two ex-cons.  The service was a special one because we were taking communion at the end of the service.  My two ex-cons who were with me happened to become followers of Jesus during their time in jail, and one of them turned to me while they were preparing the elements and said “Miss Jenny, can I go up and get communion?”

In my mind, I’m thinking—well of course you can!! The table is open!"  While I’m thinking this, the pastor is calling up the lay leaders of the church to help serve the elements of communion.  As they are coming up, I turn to this young man and say with an enthusiastic head nod, “yes!”

I didn’t realize that his question meant, “Can I go up and get communion right now?”

As the lay leaders are approaching  the altar, this youth runs up to the front of the sanctuary, followed by his other ex-con buddy.  Then, their enthusiasm inspires some other young guys from the congregation to get up and rush toward the communion table.  The lay leaders looked around a little confused, but the pastor tried to maintain everyone’s composure and simply kept preparing the elements for the entire congregation.  I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself and smile wide as I thought about the social faux pas that they were committing at that moment.

However, the part that made me watch them in awe was the fact that these were two young men with dark stories, and yet, they had no shame or reservation about coming to the table of the Lord.  They knew who they were, and they knew who God is—and they knew that they had “large debts” that had been canceled—which only made them run even faster toward the communion table.

There is a Leeland song that I love called “Carried to the Table.”  The chorus of the song goes like this:

“I was carried to the table
Seated where I don’t belong
I was carried to the table
Swept away by His love
And I don’t see my brokenness anymore
When I’m seated at the table of the Lord
I was carried to the table
The table of the Lord”

None of us deserve a seat at God’s table—and yet, God says come anyway.  He invites the weary and heavy laden to enter into His rest, and to taste and see that He is good.

I wish we all had such an understanding of God’s love and grace that made us run like that.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”—Matthew 5:6

Kumbaya

Sunshine.  Beautiful water.  Swimming/boating/kayaking/canoeing/children-launching.  Bunk-beads.  Bugs.  

Yes.  I am talking about camp.  A rite of passage for some, a way of life for others.  Truly a week-long period of time that is either a "Sweet dream/or a beautiful nightmare..." (Depending on if you have to sleep near the snoring kid, the booger-picker, the bed-wetter, or the other normal kid like you).

As I was growing up, it was usually the latter rather than the former (not the bed-wetting part, the nightmare part).  I never really liked camp.  I hated (still hate) bugs, and I didn't really believe in something called "sweating" when I was younger.  Giving up my comfortable bed, and possibly forsaking air conditioning while putting myself directly with many other "sweaty" and immature peers did not sound like a good time. But, since God apparently wanted all His kids to experience camp, I went.

I wish I could say that I had life-changing experiences at camp as a camper--but, I never did.  In fact, I usually felt more isolated, alienated, and I actually sprained my ankle (for the second time) during my final teenage camp experience. I have many friends who "met Jesus" at camp, and surrendered their lives to Him there.  I have talked to many who have beautiful camp experiences, and then there are the few like me who leave enjoying camp--but secretly wonder why in the world they went.  

The after is what is always curious to me.  What happens after camp?  What happens after you have (or don't have) this close experience with God?  I know God doesn't just stay at camp, but is with us at all times.  But, do we choose to continue to commune with Him after the hype of a shared emotional experience is over?

Maybe the purpose of camp for me when I was younger was to OBVIOUSLY get me ready to organize one when I got older.  God sure does have a sense of humor, doesn't He?  So, now I am coming home from "Rhythm" camp with the students I work with.  It was a beautiful experience together, and I know there were bonds formed that have the promise of long-lasting friendships.  God really did Kumbaya--"Come by here."  My deepest prayer is that, regardless of their understanding of the camp experience,  the bonds they formed with Christ live into the promise of His long-lasting commitment of relationship with us.  May we always know that when we are in rhythm with God, that the melody of or lives will always be in tune--and may surprise us with the song it sings!

Awake My Soul

"In these bodies we will live/ In these bodies we will die/ Where you invest your love/ You invest your life..."--Mumford & Sons "Awake My Soul"

I'm just getting home from a Bible study that is focused on the book of Mark.  I love deep, meaty Bible studies.  You know, the kind that seek to get not only to the heart of the Bible, but allow for the Bible to penetrate to the bone marrow of the deepest places of your heart.  I love this so much not because it's pleasant, but because the after affects of this painful penetration bring the fruit of the Spirit.

We read many stories of healing tonight from the 2nd & 3rd chapter of Mark.  After each story of Jesus' healing came judgement from the religious leaders of the day.  I am reminded over and over again from this first part of Mark about how much I vacillate between the characters of those who get healed, and those who stand judging Jesus for healing them.  We talked about how we read the pages of these stories and find ourselves asking the question "Would I have actually followed Jesus if I saw him do all that he did?"  

It's funny how we can talk about this as if it's in the past tense--as if Jesus doesn't still heal today and we don't still stand in judgement of how he does it.  

One of the questions from our study was: "Compare the Pharisees' view of piety as a religious fast with Jesus' depiction of Christian discipleship as a wedding party.  How does that fit with your view of what it means to be a Christian?"

How does it fit?  Do I live every day as a celebration and preparation for my coming groom?  Do I live every day enthralled in love as a preparing bride?  Or do I find myself looking like bridezilla and discounting the wedding altogether unless I have the right color napkins for the feast?  I want to fall in love again.

"Awake my soul...You were made to meet your maker..."

I Just Love These...

I had never known Sermonspice.com until this past year--and somehow I stumbled upon these gems.  This is a particular favorite :)

"Thoughts on Life"

Hope you enjoy and don't get caught up on watching a bunch of them...(not like I have ever done that.... hehe)

This one needed prayer...

Why pray?


It's a question that I've heard asked many times.  At one extreme, I feel my feeble mind utter it in dark moments, and then at the other it makes me close to indignant.  It can be cumbersome, boring, seemingly ineffective, or just downright impossible to do--and yet, it is essential.  It's to be basically as important as breathing in the life of a Christ follower.


We are always catching Jesus getting away to pray--and then from that moment going out to do something great.  The order is never reversed--it is always, prayer first and then action.


Look at this story from the Gospel of Mark:  Jesus (earlier in the gospel) gave all authority over evil spirits and the ability to heal to his disciples and sends them out to do those things.  So, when we get to Mark chapter 9--it is strange to see the disciples having an issue with driving out an evil spirit--since, well, they're supposed to be able to have authority over all evil spirits.  Jesus--of course--heals him, and then the disciples are asking the same question we are: "What happened Jesus?  Why couldn't we do it?"


Now, I don't know about your experience with spiritual warfare, how well you drive out evil spirits, or even what the HP level of any given Evil Spirit is.  I do know, however, if I were a disciple right now, I would be supremely confused.  I would be thinking: "Why is it that what I've done before, now all of a sudden won't work?  I go in to heal the kid, just like I've done before, and this ugly thing won't get out!"  None of the disciples around seemed to have a clue.  So, they then ask the One who would know.  They ask Jesus. 


And Jesus simply says, "This kind can come out only by prayer" (Mark 9:29).


You see, we spend so much time living in the wake of past accomplishments, and seeming evidence of our own strength.  At first, we stopped and prayed, and God directed us and gave us the strength to do whatever it was we had to do.  Then, we reached some magic quota of God power and decided that we didn't have to ask Him anymore for His presence to live.


We spend so much of our "everyday, ordinary life-- [our] sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life" (Romans 12:1 MSG) missing the fact that there are things God would have us accomplish if we would only stop and pray.  Like I said before, the order for Jesus was always prayer, then action.  When we run up against problems, hurts, frustrations, mountains, demons, and we think to ourselves "Why won't this go away?  Why can't I make that mountain move?"  our joy and trust in God gets depleted, and our promised "Abundant life in Christ" seems to be jeopardized.  


We know in this world there will be troubles, and we know that Jesus said "But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33b)  


But how often do we live like that, or pray like that?  How can we know if we don't take the time to listen?  How can we know which mountain to move, or to climb?  Maybe that mountain you're trying to move is not your mountain. Maybe God never told you to even climb that mountain in the first place--but we were just too busy scaling the mountain before we even asked.

What's Right In Front of Us

I have this frustration.  I have had a major history of being talked over or ignored.  It actually became a joke in the community I lived in while in Fort Lauderdale because I was supposed to be in charge of the monthly business meetings.  BUT, the conversation would inevitably get derailed and we would all laugh as I couldn't get a word in edgewise most of the time.  (And it's not that I'm not a talkative person either...)

Now, I know some of this could have to do with what is going on in the internal (as Dr. Cloud would say), but I believe that it is just rude to talk over others.  I just do.  I like to be invited into a conversation, just the same way as I like to invite others into conversation.  And I think many people in our society are just used to being rude.  Call it one of my strengths that is also a weakness to community building.  What can I say?

What further frustrates me though, is not business meeting commentary--or small group or what have you.  What frustrates me is when I am in serious dialogue with another, they ask for advice or "what to do", I offer a game plan, and they straight up ignore or rationalize away what I said.  I mean--I might as well have told the wall.  You've had that moment, right?  Where you've thought something was painfully obvious--so you tried to help someone out--and they just didn't get it.

Now, this isn't a proud moment, or a "woe is me" commentary.  I've got my boundaries (also as Dr.Cloud says) and I'm working on that resentment.  However, I think my situation is not unique.  I think it speaks of a broad-sweeping issue:

  We spend a lot of time ignoring, or rationalizing away the truth that is right in front of us.

I mean, we all ask for advice or "What to do" and ignore it when we get it.  Francis Chan puts it this way (and I'm paraphrasing here from the DVD "Basic: Follow Jesus")

"When I tell my daughter to clean her room, she knows better.  She doesn't go into her room and say:

'Daddy, I spent all afternoon memorizing what you told me to do.  Aren't you proud?'

or

'Daddy, I had a small group meeting on what you said, and we came up with many different meanings for that phrase.  What do you think?'

No!  She goes and cleans her room because she knows that's what I want her to do."

So--why do we do this with one another?  Because we don't trust each other easily--and for good reason.  I mean, we've been let down and hurt by others before.  However, what about those "tried-and-true" people who really do have our best interests in mind?

Furthermore, why do we do this with God?  The one who never goes back on a promise, who loves us more and better than we could even imagine, who is always faithful (even when we are not), the one who is always trustworthy (even when we are not), the one who  has been around the longest (who should naturally have the most insight into any given situation), the one who inspired people to write down His teachings so we'd have a foundation on how He wants us to live, and who ALSO gave us his very Spirit to dwell within us to guide us into specifically what the Father wants ANND--who this life of ours is really about anyway..so...why still the distrust?  As I heard one Sunday morning: "When did trust and obey turn into just know and understand?"

I'm not saying I have any answers for this question.  I am just saying I know how much it frustrates me when I'm only trying to do or say things for another's good and they don't listen--so I can only imagine how frustrating that is to God when I do the same thing.

Cheyenne

It's Wednesday.  I'm wearing an orange (or "creamcicle"--if you want to get technical) youth shirt, jeans, sneakers and a Stetson zip-up hoodie as I head in with the principal to lunch duty.  I get to monitor lines, see a sock-purse that a girl got from the Dollar Store, and sit with many of the youth I work with. It's already been a great morning.

As I'm standing with the principal, getting ready to wrap up lunch duty--over walks Cheyenne.  She has short blonde hair, glasses, and a big puffy pink down jacket on.  Her aide stands behind her, holding her backpack while Cheyenne talkes with the principal excitedly about being able to walk to class herself.

Cheyenne has a learning disability, and also has very little concept of appropriate personal space as she relentlessly hugs the principal and calls her "sweetie."

As I take all this in, I can't help but be won over by Cheyenne's charm.  Though it is apparent that she is not "normal," it is truly apparent how much and how freely she loves those around her.  It is apparent by her big, warm smile how happy she is just to enjoy small--yet large--victories of being able to walk to class herself.  It is a good day--and then she spots me.

She quizically looks me over, and stands within an 1"1/2 of my face as she matter-of-factly inquires:
"Are you a middle schooler?"

I mean, after all.  I'm in a youth shirt, jeans, and hoodie standing in the middle of a middle school.  It's a fair question.

"No," I reply, "I graduated a long time ago."
"Oh," Cheyenne says. "Then, are you a woman?"
By this question, I can only assume she means "Are you an adult? A Grown-up?" Something along those lines, because I think that my gender is pretty obvious.

"Yes," I reply.
Cheyenne moves closer and continues to inquire. "Then, where do you work?"

Clearly, because I am a grown-up, I have a job.  Of course.

"I work with a Church here on the island," I reply with a smile.
Cheyenne mulls this information over for only a second as she looks me dead in the eye and says:

"Then, do you see Jesus?"

For a moment the world stopped, and I couldn't help but fall in love with her simple question.  All the verses of Christ being with little Children, insisting that the little children are allowed to come to Him, and that we are to have a child-like faith came rushing to my mind in that moment as I looked into her innocent eyes.

"Yes," I replied trying to hold tears of joy in so I didn't alarm her,"I see him all the time."

With that, satisfied, she turned to her aide and left.  That was all she needed to know, and it was enough.

If I knew I wouldn't have confused her, I wish I had said:

"I'm looking at him right now."