The Voice in the Wilderness

I often find I connect most with God when in the midst of creation. I know, it's not some grand revelation unique to me. Many of the great forefathers of the faith met with God in the wilderness, but it still feels like a grand secret between God and me. From the sand dunes of Lake Michigan, to the rolling hills of the Kentucky horse farms, to the extravagantly colored hills of the Smokey Mountains in peak foliage, God proclaims His glory through what we see all around us, though often times we're going by too fast to stop and notice it. I wish I had cool photos that could capture it all to share with you, but nothing would quite compare, so it'll remain my little secret, until you drive Rt 40 in early-November.

"Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature." ~Romans 1:20

"The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship." ~ Psalm 19:1

Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him

Reading through Matthew 6 recently, I was pondering what I know about God and prayer. I know a lot of people try and interpret "The Lord's Prayer" line for line and this is what it really means. That's not what I'm trying to do at all. I wouldn't really presume my interpretation upon it. I just know what it says. All I'm doing is just making a few observations:

"Our Father in heaven" - God already knows who He is and He knows my thoughts before I even think them so this address cannot be for God's sake, but perhaps just a reminder to me that God is my Father and He is beyond anything this earth could contain.

"Hallowed be Your name" - God is already perfectly holy so if this is a request then there's nothing He can do to make Himself more holy, so maybe it's just reminding me that God really is holy even though I don't always live like He is.

"Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" - God has never needed my permission or insight into when He will accomplish His ends. He will do as He pleases, when He pleases, whether I ask Him to or not. So maybe this is just a reminder to me that God really is in control, good does win out over evil, and this earth is not all there is.

"Give us today our daily bread" - In a few verses Jesus will explain how silly it is to worry about whether or not we will eat because God provides food even to the birds who aren't nearly as valuable as His sons and daughters. So do I really need to ask God to provide food for me, or do I just need a reminder that everything I have comes from the God Who Provides?

"Forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven our debtors" - My sins, past, present, and future, were forgiven when I confessed Christ. Am I really asking God to forgive me over again, or is more a reminder to me of the depths from which I've been forgiven, and that compared to those who've wronged me?

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one" - James tells us that God is not tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone. So perhaps rather than a request, it's a reminder of God's goodness and His sovereignty over those who oppose Him.

If God is really unchangeable, then is prayer really for His sake or for mine? Does asking Him really help Him make up His mind, or does it change mine to recognize how utterly helpless I am and completely dependent upon Him for everything, from adoption to assurance, from provision to forgiveness, from sanctification to victory? All I know is I'm commanded to pray so I do, and it always tends to straighten out my perspective.

Take six

Other than my fam, I think my longest standing relationship is God. I don't really keep up with any of my grade school friends, and I first met God before I came to Christ's Church so He even beats them out. And I must say I'm more confident now than ever that He is completely trustworthy, totally sovereign, and loves me more than anything. It's wild being in relationship with someone who has absolutely no faults, because I have nothing to relate it to; it's foreign to me, but that's the reality of it. It's wild feeling like I'm wrapped up in the hugmongous arms of God. It feels safe. Fear looses all it's power. And that makes me smile.

Less than 48 hours and I'm off once again to one of my favorite places on earth, Namibia, Africa. We're gone June 25th through July 12th (no that doesn't mean you can come vandalize my house!!!) with 18 people, 36 bags, 3 guitars, and a partrige and a pear tree. But to tell the truth, I've been ready to go for most of the week. Not actually ready to go, but ready to be there. All the sights, and smells, and tastes come flooding back and I know it's time to go. So I invite you to join us, not on the airplane, but on the blogsite. Check out our team blogsite at...

www.namibia2007.blogspot.com
and follow all the action for yourself. We'll post pics and videos, tell stories of what's going on, and best of all, you can leave me little comments that I'll get to read while we're there. But most of all we'd love your prayers, for my teammates, for the people we'll minister to, and for me to be bold and open to learn what God has for me. Thanks for all your support. Signing off, for the next 3 weeks (not like I actually write that often anyway).

30 Hour Famine

I'm not all that easily amazed, but this Sunday I was pretty blown away. But let me start at the beginning...

Last summer my frustration was building over taking people to Africa and having them come back and resume their normal, American lives. I was even more frustrated that I would go over to Africa summer after summer and return to my normal, American life. But then a few weeks later at Soulfest I was impressed with the attention and priority they gave to certain humanitarian relief organizations. It was there I was first introduced to Invisible Children and To Write Love On Her Arms and Zack with The Amazing Change. I met people at lots of different booths with lots of different organizations that were making a difference in the lives of the poor and oppressed around the world.

That fall we decided to give those organizations a little face time at youth group. Every couple weeks we'd introduce a different ministry making a difference in people's lives and challenge the kids to find a need they could get passionate about and do something about it. It was about this time that I picked up a little book called The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. In the book he shared his story of how he came to actually live like he believed what Jesus said. He speaks of working in leper colonies in India with Mother Theresa, and helping save a group of homeless families living in a condemned church, and traveling to Iraq to love on the innocent people effected by war. He challenged me to live like I believe what Jesus said, love society's outcasts, give what I have to the poor, trust that God will take care of my needs. And that's when I met Katy.

The Upper Room is a Christian ministry to the poor that gives everything away, food, clothes, household items, toys for kids, everything goes out absolutely free. Yet Katy told me, in all the years they've been open God has always provided for all their needs. She tells me amazing stories of all that's God's done to change people's lives and the community around them. Since working there I've learned so much about what it means to "be" charity and how, like Shane says in his book, people don't help the poor because people don't know the poor.

So in our efforts to introduce the youth group kids to what's really going on in the world, we decided to do World Vision's 30 Hour Famine with our group. (yes, I'm finally getting to that) So on Friday after lunch we started fasting. We gathered that evening at the church and spent the rest of the Famine together learning about hunger and poverty around the world and how we can help. Saturday morning we visited Katy at the Upper Room and helped pack up the extra winter coats to send to Africa. We went on a food scavenger hunt to collect food and other items to donate. We learned that 29,000 children die each day from malnutrition and preventable causes and wallpapered our sanctuary with fingerprints for each of those children. We prayed for the countries around the world where World Vision is helping. And then, 30 (and a half) hours later we broke fast together.

Famine Sunday

Sunday morning we were given the sermon time to share our experiences with the congregation. We shared a little bit about what we did, but mostly we shared our hearts about these pressing issues, issues that we can do something about. One of the students, Kirk, talked about why he had given up going to a concert at his school where he could get free pizza and kool-aid to come to church and fast for 30 hours. We shared about the 29,000 fingerprints around the room and how just $1 a day could feed a child for a day. A World Vision rep spoke about her recent trip to Africa and lined up child sponsorship packets across the front of the stage for people to take. And then I stood up and spoke bold words from the Scriptures, much bolder than I felt to be honest. I said it's more blessed to give than receive, and if you have 2 coats give one to somebody who needs it. I read from James 1:22, "Do not just listen to the word and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." I read what's quickly becoming a new favorite, 1 John 3:17-18, "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth."

That's when it started. As we closed with a video challenging people that they have one life, do something with it, people got out of their seats and came right up front to take a child sponsorship packet. And not just one or two, they kept coming. Afterward, people who've never really talked to me before kept coming up to me asking about the Upper Room and how they wanted to take their kids down to help out. Young kids were asking me how they could donate their clothes to the Upper Room. One lady even handed me her expensive Anne Klein coat saying, "I don't need this." I was so overwhelmed, and excited at the same time. I was so proud of the kids and youth leaders who went 30 hours without food so others could eat, and as a result inspired a congregation to love "not with words or tongue but with actions". Oftentimes my expectations end with what man can accomplish, but this weekend I was overwhelmed by God. Now I have my own story to tell Katy.

[Here are a few links to sponsor children with World Vision, Compassion International, or Hope's Promise, Namibia.]

This is harder than I'm willing to admit

uugh, convicted. I hate that; well kind of, because then I realize I'm screwed up, but kind of not because then, hopefully, I can fix it. In Brennan Manning's re-released book entitled The Importance of Being Foolish he quotes Thomas Merton saying

One dimension of this convenient spirituality is our total insistence on ideals and intentions, in complete divorce from reality, from actions, and from social commitment. Whatever we interiorly desire, whatever we dream, whatever we imagine: that is the beautiful, the godly and the true. Pretty thoughts are enough. They substitute for everything else including charity, including life itself.

How many times do I imagine my own spirituality to be far deeper, far more authentic and powerful than it really is? Then I contently polish and display those false snapshots of my spiritual life meanwhile destroying any hope of experiencing the real thing. "The great mark of a Christian is what no other characteristic can replace, namely the example of a life which can only be explained in terms of God" (Emmanuel Suhard). We seem so content with a salvation that secures our eternal destiny. Only an American evangelical would deal in such absolutes. We're saved from far more than eternal damnation, we're saved from this living hell, life without God. It's always been about life. "I've come that they might have life, and have it to the full!" But rather than "walking in newness of life" I'm content drinking to the pleasures of this world while proudly boasting in my fictitious photographs of spirituality. How I long for a life that can only be explained in terms of God, yet I'm the only one holding me back.

History judges great men

Have you ever had that idea in the back of your mind that you're destined for greatness? Everyone else around here might be content with normal but God has something so much bigger planned for your life. You can't really put your finger on it exactly but with all your potential you just know you're bound for great things. Now I do recognize that Jesus says things like, "The last will be first and the first will be last." I used to think that meant my delusions of grandeur were not biblically founded. I was suppose to want to be the ultimate servant, to help everybody else out at my own expense. But the more I come to understand Jesus I don't think that's quite what He meant. If you recognize that that statement comes in the midst of a conversation about selling all you have and giving to the poor, and how the disciples gave everything they had to follow Jesus, then it almost seems like that's the very secret of greatness. He's not redefining greatness like I used to think. He's redefining how to get there. How many of us don't think the disciples were great, or Adoniram Judson, or Jim Elliot, or Mother Theresa. Their greatness comes from actually following Jesus instead of just reading about Him and studying Him. They lived out what He said and history doesn't know what to make of it. It doesn't make sense why they would give up their lives to love people, but that's exactly why they're remembered as great. Shane Claiborne quotes Mother Theresa as saying, "We can do no great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it." (Check out Shane's book The Irresistable Revolution) We all talk about pursuing excellence or greatness in what we do. How about we start pursuing excellently living out what Jesus said. When was the last time you heard somebody say 'I want to be really good at following Jesus.' Maybe when we stop trying to be great theologians, or great speakers, or great Christians, and just become great lovers of the poor, the fatherless, and the widowed, maybe then we'll be a little closer to what it means to follow Jesus.

First 'blog post' of 2007

I'm struck deep by Augustine's illustration of carrying this burden of sin like a burden of sleep, something we know we need to wake from but find it so difficult to do. All this talk of sin recently has brought me face to face with grace. The kind of grace that surrounds any interaction with the Almighty, so much so that it's dripping with it. The kind of grace that covers us and smooths out all the bumps like liquid chocolate on a strawberry. The irony is I try so hard to avoid grace in my efforts to be perfect. I do everything I can to convince others and myself that I don't need grace. But the truth is, if it were not for my sin, my bumps, I would never know the grace of God. So the very thing I'm hiding from is the very thing that will lead me to Him. Afterall, it was the spiritual ones who thought they 'got it' that Jesus so heavily criticized. It was the messy people that surrounded Him. To a helplessly devoted perfectionist, this is a hard pill to swallow. And living in a culture that performs for it's approval, this doesn't make any sense. We do everything we can to look good, and surround ourselves with people that will only make us look better. This upside-down nature of grace doesn't fit the system of life that I've created for myself. That's why it's so much easier to roll over and go back to sleep, even though I know it's far better to be awake, I just don't know how to live there. So I'm left to battle my culture, and myself, not for first place, but for last, not to be greater, but to be less. It's a tough battle because it goes against everything I've ever known. But there's a joy that I know can never be found on this side of the battle, which leaves only the fight. And that's why I can never give up. It's worth it, and heaven knows I can be pretty stubborn sometimes. :)

Confessions

Accompanying my recent thoughts on sin has been my reading through St. Augustine's Confessions. The following passage is an excellent commentary on Romans 7. I know it's long and it'll take some wading through the olde rhetoric but it's so intense, it's worth the trouble. And just so you know, he writes in prayers so 'you' refers to God.

"The enemy held my will in his power and from it he had made a chain and shackled me. For my will was perverse and lust had grown from it, and when I gave in to lust, habit was born, and when I did not resist the habit it became a necessity. These were the links which together formed what I have called my chain, and it held me fast in the duress of servitude. But the new will which had come to life in me and made me wish to serve you freely and enjoy you, my God, who are our only certain joy, was not yet strong enough to overcome the old, hardened as it was by the passage of time. So these two wills within me, one old, one new, one the servant of the flesh, the other of the spirit, were in conflict and between them they tore my soul apart....

"Instead of fearing, as I ought, to be held back by all that encumbered me, I was frightened to be free of it. In fact I bore the burden of the world as contentedly as one sometimes bears a heavy load of sleep. My thoughts, as I meditated upon you, were like the efforts of a man who tries to wake but cannot and sinks back into the depths of slumber. No one wants to sleep forever, for everyone rightly agrees that it is better to be awake. Yet a man often staves off the effort to rouse himself when his body is leaden with inertia. He is glad to settle down once more, although it is against his better judgement and it is already time he were up and about. In the same way I was quite sure that it was better for me to give myself up to your love than to surrender to my own lust. But while I wanted to follow the first course and was convinced that it was right, I was still a slave to the pleasures of the second....

"For the rule of sin is the force of habit, by which the mind is swept along and held fast even against its will, yet deservedly, because it fell into the habit of its own accord. 'Pitiable creature that I was, who was to set me free from a nature thus doomed to death? Nothing else than the grace of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.'"

I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.

Sometimes I wonder how much I really understand this whole life as a Christian thing. It seems some of the time I think the point is to be more like Christ. That's kinda been drilled into our heads, especially with the whole 'What Would Jesus Do' scheme. So when that's my goal I create in my mind a linear chart I call "spiritual maturity" where the longer I'm a Christian the closer I get toward actual perfection. I understand God as one who is pleased when I do well and frowns when I sin saying, "Well you're forgiven in Christ, but don't do that again." But then I do and the frustration and disappointment floods back again and my chart takes a dive. What I don't realize is that in charting my progress I'm the judge of what sins are worthy to keep one from 'greater spiritual maturity' and which ones can be quietly overlooked. So for example, I could go a whole day being completely selfish but without blowing up at anybody, being dishonest, or looking at porn and I think I'm one step closer to perfection, as if God's impressed with my display of what I call 'good Christianity'. I don't often think this way consciously in my mind, but that's frequently how I live out my life.

Then sometimes, when I'm sitting in utter depression because I screwed up and let God down, I think the whole point is something more like 'Jesus loves me, this I know.' And if that's the case, then 'moral failure' and the resulting 'guilt' simply become more opportunity for Him to pour out His love on me. Not that I purposefully sin so that grace may abound - by no means - but when I do it takes a sideline to the overwhelming joy of God's grace. I understand God as one who is just waiting for the opportunity to pour out His grace and forgiveness that I may glory in His love for me. As a result, I lose the utter hatred for everything that goes against the character of God. Sin, all of a sudden, while never ok, is not so bad because with it comes a lavishing of grace.

So most of the time I end up sitting under the harmonious contradiction of God's love and His holiness, His mercy and His justice. That's usually when I crank the volume on the stereo and set the song When I Survey The Wondrous Cross on repeat. My dad told me that the Western mind always needs to connect the dots, to find some reasonable explanation to figure out the mystery. The Eastern mind on the other hand (our Jewish brothers who wrote the Bible), are completely content leaving different concepts in different boxes. They're ok with a holy God that loves sinners. To me that seems like a paradox that I'm left struggling to figure out...

"When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride...."

Grace for more than drug-addicts and sex offenders

I was having a conversation recently with a friend who said he often feels like he has no testimony to share next to people who've been saved out of some seriously "sinful" lifestyles. After all, you have to admit "I grew up in church, got saved when I was 4, and lived happily ever after" isn't that impressive a display of God's grace....or is it? Truth of the matter is every one of us has been saved from a heart that's twisted and broken, deceptive and selfish. If God had allowed me to go my own way, then my story would be as sad and desperate as many others I've heard. But he didn't. Because of God's grace in my life He saved me from all that rather than saving me out of all that. Because of God's grace in my life I don't have to give into the selfish desires of my heart. I couldn't do that by myself. I know the thoughts of my heart, and it scares me to think if they were to have their way. It's only by God's grace that I can make choices contrary to my selfishness.

A prime example came up for me this week, and it allows me great opportunity to boast in God's grace. I have long been planning a trip to North Carolina to visit with the fam over the holidays. I was going to drive my car down and visit with friends on my way to and from. My brother and sister-in-law had to make their visit the week prior because of work commitments. However, when they were there they had car trouble and had to leave their car in the shop. So the new plan became that they would drive my parents Suburban home, which I would return when I drove down, and drive back up with their car. Seems like a great plan, minus one small objection, my selfish heart. I'm quite comfortable and familiar with my own car and all the amenities it provides, everything short of serving drinks and a bag of pretzels. This may seem like a small deal for many, but comfort and familiarity are a big deal on a long trip. So needless to say, it was not with ease that I consented to the new plan, but only by God's grace. Were I to make that decision on my own, I would've said make other arrangements cause I've been planning this for months and this is what I want to do. It's only the grace of God that could allow me to say no to my own selfish desires and agree to the alternative plan. And as a result my joy abounds. Not my joy in my own selfish comfort, but my joy in knowing I'm not a slave to my selfish desires. I can choose love over self. But not on my own, it's God's grace that saved me from these things. God continues to show His grace in my life everyday that He allows me to defeat my selfish heart. That's the grace that I boast in everyday. That's why I can stand next to the rehabbed drug-addict and former sex offender and say, "I too was lost, but now I'm found" and weep together in God's grace to selfish, messy sinners.

Row 11 Seat C

Yesterday I found myself sitting in the airport waiting for my flight on Southwest. Now Southwest doesn't assign seats so the trick is to get in seating order 'A' and get there early so you can get a good seat. So I got there plenty early, in fact, there were only a few others in the waiting area when I arrived. After about a half hour or more, still before the plane even arrived, I saw this couple walk up and plop themselves down in front of the gate so as to be the first in line. Now I thought to myself, "How arrogant of them to think they can pass by all these people who've been waiting here ahead of them to get a seat on the plane." As soon as that couple sat down as if "in line", it started an onslaught of others rushing for a spot in line lest they get left with a middle seat, like the first drop of water that breaks through the dam. As the lines continued to get longer I kept thinking, "The nerve of these people to think they have any more right to get a better seat then me cause they stood up in line. I've been waiting here longer than all of them", which naturally gives me more of a right than them to get a better seat. "It's not like they're going to run out of seats before you get there. It's a huge plane, just get over yourselves and wait like all of us have had to." Fortunately, from where I was sitting close to the gate, the line extended backward pretty far, so my mind concieved a plan where I would just stand up and make my way to the gate as if there was no line and these presumptuous people were simply standing there for no particular reason. But the longer I sat there I began to actually listen to what I was thinking, that it really is just a seat on the plane and it's awful selfish to think that I should force my rights on them who actually think they have more rights because they've been standing and I sitting. I began to think of Paul talking about yielding his rights and that it's better to be wronged than to make a big deal about it and take someone to court like the world. So I decided it would probably be better of me and more Christlike to make my way back to the end of "the line" and allow the presumptuous people on the plane ahead of me. Afterall I would still get a pretty good seat because I was in the 'A' line. Eventually the plane arrived and people began shuttling off and my mind was fighting with itself over where to get in line. Then the little red 'A' light came on and we were called to board. I watched myself stand up, collect my things and make my way straight to the gate.

Why is it that our selfish desires carry so much more weight than our desire to love? Why is it that my heart tells me it's not that big a deal but my mind is so much more concerned with my comfortable seating preference? Why do I cling so tightly to what I consider to be my earthly rights? This whole process of becoming less and less earthly minded is a tough battle, especially when what I want is in such contradiction to what I know. And since it's my mind that chooses my behavior I'm pretty much screwed, huh. Oh how I long to just 'get over myself' and love people with selfless abandon.

I ended up with a phenomenal seat, an aisle seat in the exit row, couldn't ask for more. But as the guilt poured on and the eyes of those behind me bored holes in the back of my head I kept wishing I could take it back. I pulled out my book, Seizing Your Divine Moment by Erwin McManus, and read about how the choices we make define the moments in which we live. He writes, "If a moment is the gate through which your divine journey begins, then choice is the key that unlocks the adventure." Figures.

Desires of the Spiritual Life

My latest ponderings have been over the question of desires, also termed wants, affections, pleasures, satisfaction. How much does desire have to do with the spiritual life? My friend, Richard Griffin, proposes that spirituality is "wanting to want what God wants." Along those lines I might propose a three tiered processes of spirituality. We begin in life wanting what's best for us. This is a very carnal, fleshy, self-centered stage. We can see this clearly in our natural development. Babies cry when they don't get what they want. Children fight, rebel and manipulate to get what they want. Many never grow out of this stage through their teen and adult years. These learned tendencies from childhood don't disappear with maturity but, to different extent for all, haunt us for the rest of our lives. If you think I'm painting this in a bad light you are absolutely correct, for a baby's very survival depends on it's demanding what it wants. It's not always evil-intentioned, but natural. Satisfaction at this stage can be found in both believers and non-believers. Carnal spirituality naturally accompanies youth and immaturity. However, true joy is not found in this stage. If we stall our development in this stage because we are too enamored with our own selfish desires we are, as C.S. Lewis says, "far too easily pleased."

The second stage I would propose is a subtle shift from wanting our best to wanting what's best for others. In this stage we come to realize we are not the center of our own universe, that other people have desires of their own, and that it is indeed a joy to help them fulfill those desires. This is Jesus' command, "Love your neighbor as yourself." In this stage we also find those who believe in Christ and those who do not. Lately the media has been flooded with celebrities and humanitarian aid missions that that help fulfill others desires for their own joy, ie. Angelina Jolie, Red Cross, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, etc. They love others not for Christ's sake but for the secret joy found only in wanting what's best for others. However, this too is not the ultimate joy. We must press on to stage three to discover the true joy in fulfilling our created purpose.

The third stage I propose is moving from wanting what's best for others to wanting what's best for the Kingdom. This is the only stage that limits itself to those believers in Christ because its very satisfaction is found in God. This is Jesus' command, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength." This is Bernard of Clairvaux's fourth degree of love: Love of self for God's sake. This is John Piper's theme, "God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him." This is Job saying, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." This is us finding our desire, our affection, our satisfaction in the advancement of glory of God. It means trusting in His sovereignty and saying with Christ in Gethsemene, "Not mine, but Your will be done." Wanting to want what God wants, our greatest joy in His greatest glory.

"Your name and Your renown are the desire of our hearts." (Is. 26:8)
"Delight yourself in the Lord; And He will give you the desires of your heart." (Ps. 37:4)

Confessions of a Sporatic Blogger

I have a confession to make.  I must say I haven't made a real post in quite some time simply because of my superfluous desire (used a thesaurus for that one, cool word huh) to sound good (case and point with the thesaurus).  See, what I write here shapes your perception of me.  How I act, how I look, all those things shape others' perceptions of me.  So I never write much because I don't have something super spiritual sounding to say and therefore would effect your perception of me.  Even this post I've been laboring over trying to figure out how to communicate what I want to say.  Well today I discovered it in a most unexpected place, in the book of Song of Solomon and a sermon from the 3rd century.

In his First Homily, Origen relates the first 12 verses of chapter 1 of the book of Song of Solomon to Christ's relationship with the church.  In verse 6 the Beloved declares she's become dark skinned because her brothers made her work in the vineyards all day.  She's ashamed because she was caring so much for the other vineyards that she couldn't care for the vineyard of her own body.  Origen's point being that God loves us no matter how we look on the outside, but I think we as the church have it backwards.  We're so busy caring for how spiritual we look outside that we neglect the true relationship.  It's been said before in many ways, the church has come to look an awful lot like Pharisees.  But these messages that have been preached to me so many times before, that I've repeated to others, are beginning to take deeper root in my soul.  Rather than trying to deceive myself into believing that I'm more spiritual than I really am - and that even if I were, that would make God accept me any more or less - I need to count myself in the ranks of the lost, only drawn close to the Father because of the gospel of grace.

Brennan Manning writes, "As a sinner who has been redeemed, I can acknowledge that I am often unloving, irritable, angry, and resentful with those closest to me.  When I go to church I can leave my white hat at home and admit I have failed.  God not only loves me as I am, but also knows me as I am.  Because of this I don't need to apply spiritual cosmetics to make myself presentable to Him.  I can accept ownership of my poverty and powerlessness and neediness."

Ok, this post is getting long enough (thanks to those persistent few who have endured).  And if these thoughts seem redundant for you, continue to read them and continue to listen, because maybe not this time, or the next, but one of these times, like me, it'll start to sink in.  Then it'll be the sweetest thing you've ever known and you'll never hear enough.  Thanks for stickin with.  Peace.

I hate it when people only post once ever other blue moon. Why even bother at all! Ok, that's me, I know, j/k. :)

So my thoughts of late have gathered around this mysterious paradox we call faith. I can't help but question the conditional/unconditional nature of this faith. I'm firmly convinced there is nothing good in me that seeks after God on my own, so this faith in Him is not, indeed can not be from me alone...and therefore, unconditional, by the grace of God. (Note: There are many references I could quote such as Romans 3 or Ephesians 2:8, but I choose not to because of the recent abundance of what one may call "proof-texting". I would rather you search the whole of Scripture and judge my conclusions and questions based on what you discover of the character of God.) On the other hand, I have different fingers...I mean ;) I'm also firmly convinced that any so called faith that does not result in the obedience of love is really no saving faith at all, but merely belief, like that of the demons who believe in God, and therefore, conditional upon the free choices I make. So in any attempt toward delicately balancing the total sovereignty of God and the free will of man, even in regards to faith, one must be quite comfortable with the mystery of a God who's ways and thoughts are higher than ours, which is where I find myself during my deliberations.

Other related questions include the idea of two levels of justification, that of the nation of Israel when they made the Levitical sacrifices, and that of the faithful saints like Moses who was declared the "friend of God", and then, recognizing the process of the spiritual life, when exactly is that moment of regeneration when the Holy Spirit resides in our hearts. I suppose scholars have long since debated and will continue endlessly to debate far deeper questions of theology than mine, so I suppose I'm ever condemned to an incomplete understanding, like Paul, until the day we see clearly and no longer as though through a glass. Although at that point, how important will understanding really be. :) Either way, thanks for pondering with me.

ps. If you haven't checked it out yet, take a look at the blog site for my team going to Namibia. You can follow along with all the latest happenings during our trip from July 1st-17th.

Lately I've been reading this great book (HIGHLY recommend it) called Messy Spirituality by Mike Yaconelli. It's been instrumental in reshaping how I think about spirituality, which seems to be quite the theme in my posts of late. We seem to equate spirituality with the absence of sin. The more I grow up spiritually, the less sinful I become. So why is it that the most spiritual people I know are the ones most conscience of their sin? Since when have we ever had to clean ourselves up before we come to God? Why do we think we can hide our sin from God to look spiritual like we do with everyone else on Sunday mornings? Remember what Jesus said to the Pharisees? God isn't looking for spiritual people! He's looking for people who know nothing but their sin, and therefore their great need for Him. Perhaps true spirituality looks quite different from the very spiritual people we see, or pretend to be, on Sunday mornings. Perhaps God's much more ready to move in the lives of sinners than of spiritual people. Perhaps we need to stop turning messy sinners away from the doors of the church and instead, invite them into the love of God. Perhaps it's not until we become unescapably aware of our sin that we start to understand true spirituality.

Of course, as with anything else, this sounds far easier said than done. And what about sanctification? Aren't we suppose to be pursuing holiness? I mean, sure people can be messy before they meet Jesus, but then after that don't we want to assimilate them into little church people? Kinda reminds me of Paul writing to the Galatians saying, "Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by human effort?" But more on that later....

I was recently reading an article about the theology of youth ministry and I happened upon an interesting question, illustrated here in youth ministry but applicable in the context of contemplation which has recently consumed my thinking. Kenda Dean writes,

"Do young people experience God as synonymous with particular people (like their small group) or a particular practice of ministry (like singing with a praise band) or a particular context (like camp)? Or have we helped them develop a repertoire of faith practices supple enough to take Christianity beyond any single faith experience?" (Getting out of God's Way, YouthWorker Journal, Jan/Feb 2005)

I've slowly been coming to realize our facination with destination has betrayed our possibilities for an intimate, ongoing relationship with God. We have come to live our lives at destinations like church, camp, or youth group, and ignore the journey, which in fact consumes the majority of our lives. I fear my failure to "practice the presence of God," as Brother Lawrence would say, has left me starving for the next experience and missing the joy, the beauty, the adventure of the journey. It's the heart of the contemplative, those disciplines or faith practices as Dean calls them, that brings the experience of God through the Spirit into our daily journey. So rather than relying on a 30-minute devotional time to last the whole day, the whole of our journey is filled with the joy of experiencing God. Idealistic, perhaps, but then what good is a vision that's not.

The Spiritual Life. What's that even mean? Everybody's got their own idea of what it's all about. Some people limit spirituality to all that Eastern mysticism stuff thinking it's all about meditating to a higher state of consciousness until you reach ultimate godness or something along those lines. A more popular answer in the church is that spirituality is determined by our private devotional lives. Those people feel they are spiritual when their daily routine includes some form or devotional Bible reading and prayer time. They are content with church attendance, blessing meals, and following an unwritten code of spiritual maturity as means towards a thriving connection with God. The irony befalling their situation is that their goal of self-righteousness is the very thing starving the inner life they claim to nurture.

Jesus spoke to this in Matthew 23. "Everything they do is for show....[They] are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside [they] are filthy-full of greed and self-indulgence!...[They] are like whitewashed tombs-beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people's bones and all sorts of impurity. [They] try to look like upright people outwardly, but inside [their] hearts are filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness."

Striving so hard to look righteous on the outside simply leads to a critical spirit, bitterness, anger, and judgmentalism. They must expend so much energy to keep up the facade of perfection, constantly comparing themselves to others who don't match up. Aren't those the very kinds of things we're trying to leave behind by nurturing this spiritual life? Keith Green understood this controversy when he wrote, "Somehow I feel that it would be more pleasing to God if I wasn't 'doing my duty' at all, but I was madly in love with Him, constantly praying to Him and living off His Word. In fact I know this to be true, but I can't seem to 'give up' my 'devotional life.' I am afraid that my soulish flesh will just take advantage of my leap of faith and turn me into a Word-less, prayer-less monster."

So we must turn our attention about the spiritual from the external to the internal. The spiritual life is just that, the life of the spirit, that very hunger in the soul of man that cries out for more. In our efforts to renew the inner life of the spirit by focusing on the external is like washing only the outside of the dishes, or decorating a coffin. So let's abandon our striving for external spirituality and allow a renewed inner life to transform our public life. This naturally begs the question, how does one go about renewing the inner life, which is exactly where we'll pick up next time.

I recently drove by a car dealership that advertised "Audi, loaded, $650." I found myself thinking there's gotta be something seriously wrong with that car if it's loaded and it's only $650. Shouldn't you be looking for a car that actually drives whether it's loaded or not? After all what good is a loaded Audi sitting in the driveway because the engine's trashed. 'At least it looks good.'

But isn't that often how we inventory our own spiritual lives? I sit in the pew every Sunday, whether I actually engage or not. I read my Bible every morning, whether I actually learn anything or not. I spend my five minutes a day thinking about prayer requests, whether I actually connect with God or not. I fear that the church is full of fully loaded Christians that, when it all comes down to it, have nothing but rusty engine parts under the hood. They look great on the outside, but when it comes to a real relationship with God they're found lacking.

The tragedy is that many well meaning Christians don't even acknowledge the gaping hole at the center of their lives because they're too busy, as the adage goes, rearranging deck furniture on the Titanic. They exhaust all their energies working so hard at being a good Christian, keeping up with their spiritual disciplines to-do list, which ironically is never satisfied, and they don't even recognize that as a problem! They don't even comprehend what Jesus meant when He said His yoke was easy and His burden light. And we wonder why so many Christians are left feeling tired, overworked, and unfulfilled, doubting why they ever signed up for this in the first place.

Now I'll be the first to say this is just a symptom of many deeper issues, but toward a remedy I've been discovering some additional contemplative disciplines that we often forget. Somehow we've gotten the idea that silence, solitude, fasting, journaling, meditating, etc. were all gratefully buried in the dark ages with the ancient monks. But perhaps these long forgotten practices are the very thing we need to transform our spirituality from simply a necessary inconvenience into a meaningful relationship with the Almighty.

More on this later, but for now I'll suffice to say, take some time to slow down. Take a vacation from the exhausting efforts that keep us captive when we put our faith in the law, or better yet, take early retirement. Remember, Jesus didn't come to earth so we could spend a lifetime perfecting our spiritual duties; He came that we might "know the Father." May that be the cry of your life, and mine.