Spiritual Pivot

Starting this Sunday, my church will be temporarily meeting in a new location. We’re doing some upgrades and improvements to our sanctuary, so we can’t meet in the building for a few weeks. That means that we’ll be in the Fisher Center at Belmont University for a bit, then over to Sevier Park for an outdoor worship service.

It will be different, and different isn’t necessarily bad. Sometimes, different can be a good thing. I imagine people that have no connection to The Church at Avenue South might be intrigued by Sunday services on the Belmont campus. Some people might be driving by the park one Sunday and see a bunch of people gathered in worship. People who might not step foot in our present location might still hear the gospel and see the tangible love of Jesus on display.

That’s definitely a good thing. I know ideally in a perfect world, all the improvements would have been completed before we moved into the present location. But as my pastor always says, this is a beautiful but broken world we’re living in, so perfect doesn’t exist. Still, God can take what’s less than perfect and work good from it.

I imagine when the people of God first arrived into their new homes in Babylon, it took some adjusting. They had lost everything they knew and loved back home and were completely unfamiliar with their new surroundings in Babylon. But what did God say? He said to plant gardens and get married and have lots of kids. You’re going to be here for a while.

In our case, the exile is only for four weeks, but God is reminding us that the Church is not brick and mortar or a location. It’s the people of God gathered to proclaim the praises of God and live out the purposes of God through the preaching of the Word and worship. We are the living stones that make up God’s dwelling place in this world.

Right now around the world, people are gathering together in homes and in sheds and under a canopy of trees to worship. Some aren’t allowed to have large gatherings. Some don’t have a building to meet in. But they are serving and singing to and loving the same God as the ones meeting in megachurches. It’s the same Holy Spirit power that lives inside of them that lives inside the ones sitting in comfortable chairs in air-conditioned buildings.

It’s like in the Christmas Vacation movie when the kid asks how Santa will know where to find them since they’re staying with the Griswolds. Church isn’t like that. The Holy Spirit knows exactly where to go on Sunday when the people of God are temporarily displaced. God is still showing up and we can still experience that presence if we’re prepared and prayed up.

Thank You, Lord, that wherever Your people are gathered in Your name, even if it’s only two or three, You’re there in the midst of them. Make Your name famous wherever we are, whether it’s at 901 Acklen Avenue or 2020 Belmont Boulevard or 3021 Lealand Lane. Do what only You can do and draw people to Yourself and thank You that we get to be a part of it. Amen.

Whatever Is Necessary

“The greatest blessing God can give us is to put us in a position where we must trust him. This is our only path to joy. He will do whatever is necessary to disrupt our self-sufficiency and illusion of control” (Jim Dennison).

I find that both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

I’m terrified of “whatever is necessary” and what it might mean to my current level of comfort and familiarity. I pretty much like things to stay the same and not get too crazy. I have my own plans for how my life should go, and I sometimes want God to rubber stamp those plans, and anything else is a bit scary to think about.

But I’m also comforted. When I remember the goodness of God, I can trust that He knows what He’s doing. When I think back on all the times in the past where He’s safely led me through trials, I can see with my eyes of faith God providing for me in the future.

Self-sufficiency and control aren’t just illusions. They’re the default setting of our sin natures. We are born fighting to assert our own will over and against anyone else’s. We learn early how to make a clenched fist and cry if we don’t get our own way.

But learning to let go is harder. Learning to step out from the comfort of solid ground onto thin air is frightening. But the rewards to stepping out in faith into an unknown country as Abraham did so long ago is more than worth the cost. Learning to relinquish my will and to die to self is the most anti-American dream thing I can do but also the most freeing in terms of the kingdom of God.

God, I want what you want, period. At any cost. If it makes me more like You, it’s worth it. Amen.

Courage, Dear Heart

It’s a scene from my favorite Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis. In this particular moment, Lucy on board the Dawn Treader as it sails into a sea of darkness so think that you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. It’s the place where nightmares become real. Lucy is afraid.

She sees an albatross flying overhead. She whispers a prayer to Aslan (a type of Christ in Narnia) to help them get through. Suddenly, the albatross flies near and whispers in the voice of Aslan, “Courage, dear heart.”

We all need to hear those words sometimes. We’re not asking God to take away the fear or the scary situation, but for God to give us courage in the midst of it. In the book, Lewis writes that Lucy’s immediate circumstances did not change but that she did begin to feel a bit better.

In the same way, God doesn’t automatically remove the hard things from our lives our immediately still the storms in our lives. He does remind us of His promise to be with us through the waves and the flames and any kind of adversity.

When we get to the other side, it’s generally with a stronger faith and a story to tell. God comforts us in the midst of adversities so that we can turn around and comfort others in the same kinds of trials and tribulations with the same comfort that we ourselves received from God. It becomes a way of letting others know about the goodness of God that they can experience firsthand if they will only put their trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior.

That’s the phrase some of you need right now in the middle of whatever your facing: “Courage, dear heart. God is near.”

Homesick

I was listening to an 80s Truth record I picked up recently. I got to the song Homesick. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I felt I had heard or read the lyrics before very recently. Then I remembered I had seen a post with the very same song lyrics less than a week ago.

The song is the heartbeat of any believer who knows this world isn’t really home. A former pastor of mine once compared this life to a very nice, very clean bus station (or airport terminal, if you will). It’s not supposed to be your forever place to live, but a place to be until you can get to your forever home.

“They say home is where the heart is
And I’m finding out it’s true
‘Cause I long to be in heaven
Since my heart is there with You
Reading over letters
That You’ve written to me
Telling me of all You have in store
Makes me start to dreaming
Of the place I want to be
And I get that lonely feeling
Like so many times before

I get homesick
Longing for my home
And for Your open arms
Of lovе and comfort
Waiting for me there
I gеt homesick
Yearning for my home
And for the day
When all Your family
Gets together forever
Our eternal home sweet home

Lord, You living truth within me
Keeps me safe and warm
All its strength and all its beauty
Rise through every storm
Without its presence in my soul
I could not carry on
To face the many battles I find here
Lord, you keep the promises
I build my life upon
And as time goes by, I know
That I will always keep them near

I get homesick
Longing for my home
And for Your open arms
Of love and comfort
Waiting for me there
I get homesick
Yearning for my home
And for the day
When all Your family
Gets together forever
Our eternal home sweet home” (Larry Bryant, Lesa Bryant & Justin Peters).

It’s interesting to be homesick for a home we’ve never known, but that’s what it is. That’s why nothing here will ever completely satisfy the deep longing of our souls. Only God can do that. And our experience of God here is cloudy and partial. One day it will be clear and complete. We will know as we are fully known. And we will be truly home.

The Peace of Christ

“‘I give you MY peace’ John 14:27. Jesus, thank you for a peace that doesn’t just prepare us to die well, but also to live free. The peace of no condemnation and your full delight. The peace of knowing you’re working in all things for our good” (Scotty Smith).

I’m thankful that the peace of Christ isn’t based on my ideas of what peace should look and feel like.

My idea of peace is no conflict, no discomforts, no pain, no trials. If I had my way, I’d go from ease to ease, from comfort to comfort, and never grow up. Jesus’ way isn’t about making me suffer simply for the sake of suffering, but in my trials and tribulations I can 1) become more like Jesus, and 2) identify with Jesus in His own sufferings (which were way worse than mine will ever be).

Peace isn’t the absence of storms, but being sheltered in the midst of those storms. As the old song says, sometimes Jesus calms the storm, but often He comforts His child in the storm.

Peace is ultimately an inner solitude that nothing from the outside can shake, a confidence of faith that no outside crisis can kill, and a trust that says, “Even if He kills me, I will still keep trusting” (adapted from Job 13:15).

Grant us peace tonight that passes all our human understanding and guards our hearts and leads us to adoration of You, O Lord.

The Comfort of a Rod and Staff

Even when I go through the darkest valley,
I fear no danger,
for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff—they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

I was inspired to read the 23rd Psalm again. I’ve read it and heard it read too many times to count. It’s the go-to passage at just about every funeral. Just about anybody who has even an inkling of familiarity with the Bible knows that chapter.

Something I read struck me in a new way. The part that speaks of the rod and staff comforting me. When I think of a shepherd’s rod and staff, comfort is not the first word that comes to mind. Those are more for correction and discipline.

But maybe our greatest gifts come in those times of God’s correction and discipline. Maybe we learn the most and lean the most on God in those seasons where God allows trials and tribulations to come into our cushioned lives. Maybe the comfort is one of knowing God’s presence in the times of the dark valleys rather than counting my own victories in the sunshine.

When you go through a test, you come out with a stronger faith and a enlarged confidence in God. You go from a self-reliance to a God-reliance that is so much more secure and safe.

I read a book called A Severe Mercy in which God’s greatest blessings often come gift wrapped in the most painful of circumstances. There are lessons that we learn best in the darkest and stormiest places.

As I’ve learned and re-learned, the best place to be is not in a place where all my material needs are met and I am most at east, but rather where I am in a place where I am forced to rely on, trust in, and cling to Jesus as my only anchor of hope.

That is still a good place to be.

 

Today’s Word for the Day– Suffering

“There’s far more to this life than trusting in Christ. There’s also suffering for him. And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting. You’re involved in the same kind of struggle you saw me go through, on which you are now getting an updated report in this letter” (Phil. 1:29-30).

Imagine Mr. Fred Rogers in his sweater and sneakers saying something along these lines: Boys and girls, today’s word for the day is suffering.  Can you say suffering? Suh-fer-ring.

Most of the time, I am all about the suffering- avoidance mode. I likes my comfort. I don’t likes to suffer in the least.

I think that what drives most of the consumer market is comfort and convenience. That seems to be the American way, especially in American churches.

Still, the American comfortable middle-class Christianity is an anomaly. For most of the world, to proclaim Christ as Lord is to invite suffering. It’s not a matter of if, but when.

If I’m honest, when I read that suffering is a gift, my first thought is where to go to exchange it for something more comfortable and convenient.

But that’s where you and I find God. C. S. Lewis said that God speaks through our pleasures but shouts to us in our pain. Something about suffering clarifies our perspective and gives us better eyes to see God with.

Also, there is no better testimony than seeing someone willing to sacrifice for their faith. Anyone can believe in something that benefits them tangibly, but it’s quite another when you give up family, houses, and land for what you believe. Jesus Himself said that those people would be rewarded a thousand-times over for what they lose, but the loss is still very much present and real.

Christians all over the world are literally laying down their lives for the Gospel. I believe that the day is coming soon when believers in America will face the choice of denying Christ or death. Maybe not in my lifetime, but soon enough.

Will you and I choose suffering to advance the Gospel? Will we choose the painful path if it means that Jesus is glorified in us?

I pray our answer to both these questions is a resounding YES.

 

Blog #1,796 (or What I Took Away from Another Good Night at Kairos)

Tonight’s guest speaker was Tyler McKenzie, who spoke from the Beatitudes about what it meant to be blessed.

American culture has a decidedly different take on what being blessed looks like than Jesus. Unfortunately, too many believers (including me at times) have fallen into their idea that wealth, success, power, popularity, and recognition are what it looks like when you’re blessed.

Jesus had a very different idea. He said that you were blessed if you were poor in spirit, mourning, meek, righteous, merciful, pure in heart, and persecuted. Those are not concepts that you’ll find in the self-help section of the bookstore or in any motivational speeches. At least not in 99% of them.

Blessing involves foregoing the immediate and temporary pleasures of the now for a greater and lasting joy that’s partly now but mostly later. It means following the path of Jesus, who for the future joy set before Him endured the present pain and suffering of the cross.

Pain and suffering aren’t words we normally associate with blessing. I’d much rather have comfort and convenience (and chocolate as often as possible). I’d rather choose the easy over the hard path. Sometimes, I’m content to hunker down in my safe haven and pray to be able to coast into heaven. But that’s not the gateway to joy.

As I remember, the Greek word for blessed is a very interesting word. Before Jesus used it in this context, it wasn’t ever used to refer to people but rather to the gods. But here Jesus is saying that if you’re poor in spirit, you have the joy that God has. You can experience (or come as close to experiencing as any fallen human can) the state of blessedness that God lives in. You can have joy overflowing and life abundant.

I don’t want this to turn into another burden of “you and I really need to add this to the list of things we need to work on.” It’s not something I need to work on, but something Jesus is already working on in me. Ultimately, I’m not blessed because I have it all together but because I know that Jesus has it all together and He has me.

 

What’s It Worth?

“Calling the crowd to join his disciples, he said, ‘Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?'” (Mark 8:34-37).

God is not your co-pilot. If He is, it’s time to switch seats.

But enough of cliches. This is the gospel. It’s not about prosperity and happiness. It’s about following Jesus, no matter what, even if it hurts.

Sometimes where Jesus leads is pleasant, but not always.

Sometimes, it feels good to follow Jesus, but sometimes it feels like swimming against the current.

Sometimes, you’ll really feel like saying yes to whatever Jesus asks of you, but sometimes you will have to say yes when your feelings are saying no.

It’s about letting Jesus lead, wherever He takes you and through whatever He brings you.

As much as I love my comfort and convenience, that’s not the road that Jesus took.

His road was marked with suffering and pain.

His road was definitely the road less traveled, the narrow road that few find that leads to life eternal.

His road was the road that led to you and me in our worst moments, where He invited us to follow and find out what a different and better life could look like.

What good would it do me to get everything I’ve ever wanted and dreamed about, everything on my Amazon wish list, everything on my bucket list, and lose my soul in the process?

If I have everything else and no Jesus, I have nothing. If I have nothing else but Jesus, I have everything.

The end.

 

Another Kairos Challenge 


Tonight, Matt Pearson laid down a challenge at Kairos. He spoke about how so many North American believers have become inward-focused, as in “What’s in it for me?” and “How will this meet my needs?” He mentioned that the most inwardly-focused believers are usually the most miserable people who are always complaining about something.

I confess that I am one of those people sometimes. I crave comfort and ease at the expense of obedience and faithfulness. I definitely try to avoid any semblance of pain and suffering at all costs.

Jonah was a lot like that. God sent him to Nineveh to warn them of what was coming if they didn’t repent. You’d think after the whole city repented that Jonah would have been pleased, but he was peeved. He thought God’s love should be for the Israelites exclusively– or in other words, people like him. Jonah didn’t like the Assyrians and didn’t think they were worthy of God’s love. Not that any of us feel that way about any particular ethnic groups today, of course.

My takeaway from tonight is that any vision other than seeing God’s love displayed and proclaimed to all the people of all the nations is too small. What matters isn’t what songs we sing in worship or even what kind of songs. What matters isn’t if the church building is traditional or modern (or even if there’s a church building at all).

What matters is that God so loved all the sinners in the world (including you and me) that He sent Jesus to die for us and make true deliverance and salvation possible for anyone who trusts in Him.

That’s what I’ll be pondering and praying over for the next few days. At least I hope so. I don’t want to go back to the comfortable me-centered faith, and God willing, I won’t.