Not We, But I

I was listening to a conversation today about how “we need to do this” or “the Church needs to do that.” That’s all well and good, I suppose. But it got me thinking. Maybe I need to stop saying “we,” and start saying “I.”

If I’m asking the church to do something that I’m not doing and I’m not willing to do, what good is that? If I want the church to go evangelize and serve the poor, I should be the one going and serving and evangelizing. If I want the church to be more welcoming and loving to strangers, then I should be the first one to go up to someone I don’t know and make him or her feel at home.

It’s easy to hide behind the “we.” It’s easy to say what everyone else should be doing, but quite another thing for me to take my own advice and practice what I preach.

I know I’ve said the church needs to be better at showing grace to people while I’m harboring judgmental thoughts about people. If the church is to transform, I have to be one of the ones willing to change.

I can’t speak for other people. I can’t control how other people respond (or don’t respond). I can only live out my own faith, not someone else’s. I can only be a friend and supporter and do my part, regardless of whether the other person appreciates what I do or totally ignores it.

If I look at what’s wrong with the world, instead of pointing fingers and assigning blame, I only need to look in the mirror.

I love the story about G. K. Chesterton. A leading newspaper queried the leading men of the day and asked them for essays on what was wrong with the world. Chesterton’s response was the shortest and (I think) most astute. He replied, “Dear sirs, I am.”

I have been silent when I should have spoken out and spoken out when I should have been silent. I have done a poor job representing the Christ I love at times. I have to own that. But I also know that if the world is put right again, I have to be the one who will stand up and step out. I can’t expect others to do what I’m not willing to do.

May you and I stop going to church and talking about the church and start being the church today.

Captivated

I’ve been thinking about a sermon I heard today. Not the whole thing or even the main point. Just a side comment that the guest speaker made.

He said that we won’t ever be captivated by a list of things to avoid. A list of sins and bad behavior to not do. We won’t ever be captivated by a desire to escape hell, if that’s all there is to our beliefs.

What we need– what I need in my own life and what I need to see in the lives of others– are people captivated by Christ. People who are so enthralled by the hope of the Gospel that no price is too high to pay so that people really know how much God loves them.

I think people are tired of professing believers whose devotion and faith are lukewarm and halfhearted and to whom Jesus is one of many priorities and not a supreme passion in their lives. People are sick and tired of those who talk like devout believers but live like atheists. Those who profess Christ with their lips but deny Him with their lifestyle (to borrow a quote from Brennan Manning).

I am drawn to people who are passionate. People who love what they do. I think people are naturally drawn to those who have come alive, and people will be drawn to a faith that has captured and captivated the hearts of men and women.

If what I believe doesn’t enthrall and excite me, how can I expect it to enthrall and excite anybody else. Until my whole heart is set on fire for the beauty and glory of Christ, I won’t ever really go out of my way to tell others how wonderful He really is.

That’s my prayer for you and me: hearts that have been captivated by this love of Christ that passionately and relentlessly pursues our hearts every single day. That we are wide-eyed and in awe of the grace of God that stays with us after all the mistakes and screw-ups and failures.

Telling Stories

I just finished watching The Descendants, a film I really liked. It got me thinking about why I love movies. It isn’t because they advance some social or even religious cause. It isn’t because they push boundaries and stir up controversy. It isn’t because of some elaborate CGI-driven special effects.

I love a good movie because at its heart it is all about a good story well told.

To me, a good story is one that I find my story in. I can relate to the characters and what they’re going through. Sometimes, I may wish my life were like that. Sometimes, I find myself empathizing with them because I’ve gone through similar circumstances.

There was no one better at telling stories than Jesus during His earthly ministry. He told stories, or parables, that each revealed a truth about God. The people who heard these stories could relate to them, because they could find their stories in them.

We are called to be witnesses for Christ. That doesn’t mean we argue for the validity of the faith or why Christianity is better than all the other religions out there. We don’t try to prove the Bible or creation or God. We simply tell our stories.

Not to say that these things aren’t important. We can defend the Bible and creation and God (although the last time I checked, He didn’t need our help defending Himself). But no one can argue with you about what God has done in your life and how you are different than you used to be. No one can refute a transformation or a new creation.

This blog is one way I choose to tell my story. Like yours, my story is a work-in-progress, an epic novel with the ending still unwritten. I happen to know the Author of the story and I’m convinced the ending is one you won’t want to miss.

The same goes for your story, too, if you let God write it.

 

I Don’t Know a Lot

I will be the first to confess that there is a whole lot out there that I don’t know. Particularly when it comes to mathematics or statistics or anything having to do with numbers. I escaped Algebra my freshman year at Union University and haven’t looked back since.

Some days, I feel like I know less than I used to. That is, there are a lot more things I am a lot less certain about than I was ten years ago. Or even five.

I do know a few things with an increasing certainty.

1) My God loves me with a love that is radical almost to the point of being embarrassing. It is a love that is prodigal and liberal and generous and unending.

2) That I am as much in need of grace as I ever was. I truly believe that I love grace as much as I see my need of it. Those who think they are fine without it don’t really put much stock into it, but those who know they are lost without it embrace it with every fiber of their beings. I am one of those in the second category.

3) What will convince a lost world of the genuineness of our faith isn’t how well we can defend and prove what we believe or how adamantly we can argue our side or even the impressive number of good works we can muster. It’s about how much we love each other. That was turned the 1st century world upside down and that’s what will turn our world right-side up again.

4) I know for 100% certain that God is good and His plans for me are good. Period. What I think and feel may tell me differently. What my eyes and ears tell me may speak a different story. But I know in the deepest core of my heart and mind that while my feelings and thoughts and eyes and ears may deceive me and lie to me, God never ever will.

I think that’s all I need to know.

Takeaways from Kairos Roots and 2 Thessalonians 1

Tonight at Kairos Roots, Aaron Bryant spoke from 2 Thessalonians 1 about suffering and persecution in the church at Thessalonica. Interestingly, Paul doesn’t advise them to pray for an end to it, but that it would be a platform through which people can see their patient endurance and love for each other and be drawn to the God they serve.

I am not a fan of suffering. I don’t really like pain all that much. Missing my Sunday nap is about as painful as I like to get.

But I also know that Romans 5:3 speaks of suffering building endurance, which leads to character, which in turn leads to hope. And hope does not disappoint. If I want character that makes an impression and hope that doesn’t fade or fail, I will have to suffer and undergo persecution.

I don’t have to run around yelling, “Hey! Here I am! Please persecute me and cause me intense suffering!” They make pills for that sort of thing. And suffering and persecution will happen if I am faithful to what God has called me to be and do. It’s inevitable.

When people berate and belittle your faith and speak words of hate at you, they expect hate in return. What gets their attention is when you respond with the love of Christ. That kind of love doesn’t come from a life of ease and comfort; it is born and grows in hardship and adversity, through trials where it is strengthened and challenged.

As much as I want all my stop lights to be green and everyone to be nice to me and always agree with me on everything, life doesn’t work that way. That’s not how God operates. He doesn’t want me happy nearly as much as He wants me holy.

I think that Americans can expect to see more persecution in the months and years to come. I think that we who are not ashamed of our faith and hold unswervingly to our convictions and values will face ridicule and being ostracized. Maybe even one day in the future, our beliefs will land us in jail or even lead to martyrdom.

All I know is that right now, I am called to be faithful where I am, no matter if the people around me like it or not. I am not called to please everybody, but only one. Only what God thinks of me matters.

 

My Favorite Psalm (As Of August 8, 2012)

Note: I don’t always recommend The Message because it gets a little too loose with the translation sometimes. But in this case, it got it right (I think). I probably read this Psalm straight through at least three times. This is almost like reading my own diary.

“I give you all the credit, God— you got me out of that mess,

you didn’t let my foes gloat.

God, my God, I yelled for help

and you put me together.

God, you pulled me out of the grave,

gave me another chance at life

when I was down-and-out.

All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!

Thank him to his face!

He gets angry once in a while, but across

a lifetime there is only love.

The nights of crying your eyes out

give way to days of laughter.

When things were going great

I crowed, “I’ve got it made.

I’m God’s favorite.

He made me king of the mountain.”

Then you looked the other way

and I fell to pieces.

I called out to you, God;

I laid my case before you:

“Can you sell me for a profit when I’m dead?

auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?

When I’m ‘dust to dust’ my songs

and stories of you won’t sell.

So listen! and be kind!

Help me out of this!”

You did it: you changed wild lament

into whirling dance;

You ripped off my black mourning band

and decked me with wildflowers.

I’m about to burst with song;

I can’t keep quiet about you.

God, my God,

I can’t thank you enough.” (Psalm 30).

My New Daily Prayer (Stolen from Mother Teresa)

“Dear Jesus, help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with Thy spirit and love. Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly that all my life may only be a radiance of Thine. Shine through me and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let them look up and see no longer me but only Jesus. Stay with me and then I shall begin to shine as you shine, so to shine as to be a light to others.”

Fountain Ramah Church Part II

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I went back to Fountain Ramah Church today. I knew exactly where to turn and what to look for this time, so my route wasn’t quite so scenic, if you know what I mean.

The main pastor, Blaise Katshing, spoke about how we should allow ourselves to be colonized by God. It struck me as weird when he said it the first time, like maybe I heard him wrong. But the more heard him speak about it, the more it made sense.

When a country colonizes another, like England did with India a long time ago, the idea was to have the locals learn the customs and language of the colonists. For India, it meant that they learned to speak English, act English, and take on English practices and customs.

If we are colonized by God, it means that He takes over completely. We learn to speak in God’s language and to think like He does. Just like the Indians became English subjects, so we who are colonized by God now belong to the Kingdom of God.

It means that we carry the Kingdom of God in us because the Kingdom of God is the presence and rule of God. And if we have been taken over by God, it means God now reigns and rules in us.

When we speak, we speak God’s words. Wherever we walk, it is God walking. Whomever we touch, it is God’s healing hands we touch with. That’s what it means to be colonized by God.

I love that church and I love the people that I meet there. I have never known people who grasp as much what it means to be the family of God as these people. I have never felt so welcomed in any place as this place.

I believe that revivial will come from places like this, where the people are crying out to God for a breakthrough and not settling for the Christian status quo, but people who are desperate for God to move in and around them. People who thirst and hunger for God more than anything else in this world.

 

Running the Race

It’s hard to turn on the television and not hear something about the Olympics. Especially when somebody like Missy Franklin wins the gold medal for the US. You can’t help but want to root for somebody like her, the all-American girl who made us all proud.

I was watching some of the track and field events and watching in awe at the speed of some of these people. They truly are the best at what they do and they win because they’ve invested a lifetime worth of training into preparing for this moment.

Right now, I’m thinking of another race. The race Paul talks about. Only this race isn’t to the fastest or strongest. This race is all about finishing well.

The only way you don’t win this race is not to finish. Sounds easy, right? But there are so many distractions and temptations that try to divert our attention and get us off course and out of the race.

I can personally attest that there have been times when I’ve been paying too much attention to the crowd or who’s around me and comparing my pace to theirs. It’s easy to get too caught up in where you’ve been that you can very lose your way.

There’s only one place I should train my eyes on. One destination I should aim for. The finish line. Paul talks about keeping our eyes on the prize and fixing our eyes on Jesus, the true destination.

In the end, it won’t matter if I ran faster or slower than the person next to me. It won’t matter that I lost focus at times or found myself in the stands instead of in the race at times. It will only matter that I finished well.

It’s not about how you burst out of the gate at the starting gun. It’s not about how fast a pace you set in the beginning. All that matters is finishing well.

That’s good news for me. It means that it’s never too late for me to really start running the race with all that’s in me, arms outstretched toward the destination, eyes locked in on the prize of having Jesus say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

It also means that whether I ran great or poorly yesterday doesn’t matter. All that matters is how I run today.

So how will you run your race today?