Holy Week, Tuesday :: Bethany :: the Place of Safety

Take a few minutes and read Mark 14:1-9

Interspersed in the narrative of Jesus’ time in Jerusalem are these episodes of Jesus in a town called Bethany. What emerges is the picture of Bethany as a place of safety for Jesus, away from the tension and conflict of Jerusalem during Passover. It was a place where his friends Simon, Mary, and Martha lived, a place where he could come and “exhale” during this closing act of his life.

Where are your places of safety? Who are the people in your life that you can truly relax around? Are there activities and routines that give you peace?

When is the last time you did those things? When is the last time you were with those people?

When is the last time you experienced deep peace and security?

The first two thoughts for today are:

  • If you haven’t experienced this lately, carve out time to find it. Go to that place; be with those people, do those routines. There is nothing wrong with rest. There is nothing wrong with peace.
  • If there are people who have historically given you this peace, consider thanking them. Write a note, make a phone call to say, “This is what you’ve done for me in my life, and I want you to know what a great gift it has been.”

The remaining thought centers around Bethany in the context of the story.

Because as comforting as Bethany was, Jesus didn’t stay there. He went there a couple times, but he used it (and the relationships there) as fuel for his mission.

  • Have you stayed too long in Bethany? Rather than calling you to more rest, is God calling you out, to a place of mission? Are you a bit too comfortable?

Holy Week, Monday :: Jerusalem :: the Place of Mission

We are hosting early morning gatherings this week. I thought I’d post my reflections on and/or excerpts from my teaching. 

As the time drew near for him to ascend to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. (Luke’s Gospel, 9:51)

‘O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. And now, look, your house is abandoned. And you will never see me again until you say, “Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ (Luke’s Gospel, 13:34-35)

I believe Jesus knew exactly what was waiting for him in Jerusalem. I think he knew the storm he was stirring up, and that when we walked into the center of the storm, he would encounter pain and suffering and death.

And he went anyway.

He went because, as Israel’s king, he was going to (finally) be the suffering servant that God had wanted Israel to be. He went because he knew that God wanted to take his mission to the whole world, to the people beyond the borders of Israel, but in order to do that someone had to pay the price for Israel’s sin, someone had to end the exile that Israel was in so that the light could go out to all the nations.

In this sense, Jerusalem represents the fulfillment of his mission, and “the road” is the path to that mission. Everything is leading up to this moment, this destination.

I love that phrase, “Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.”

He strips everything away, and begins to focus on the culmination of his mission. Distractions will no longer be allowed. He has to complete his mission.

As we begin our own journey to the cross on Friday, is there anything distracting you? 

In a sense, our mission this week is to enter into the story of Jesus’ last week. By doing that—by faithfully and compassionately remembering Jesus’ last days, suffering, and death—we are making the story current and real.

  • Can you “resolutely” set out for Friday?
  • Is there something you need to set aside for these final days of lent, in order to allow God to work in your life?
  • What can you do to clear space for your mission this week: to listen to and experience the fulfillment of Jesus’ mission?

The Jesus I Need…

In Revelation, Jesus is a prize-fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up.

That’s just one of the worst things I’ve ever read.

Granted that Jesus can stand up for himself,  but the crime of turning him into some kind of Mike Holmes carpenter, here

via HGTV.com

to save your soul, “or else”, is just as bad as trying to turn him into a proto-buddhist, new age swami.

He simply defies categories, and we own none of them.

That being said, I think that description of Jesus Christ is just horrible. Maybe it’s polemic, and just designed to shake us up a little, but surely there are limits.

Can we not have the Son of God described as if he’s got a spot on next week’s “Jersey Shore”? Can we not have him described as Scott Stapp?

image via Megatattoo.com

Scott Stapp?!?!?

It’s projection in the highest degree (among other things, a desperate covering up of male insecurity)…

The fact is that we have little idea what Jesus’ personality was—that wasn’t the intent of the gospel writers—but I’m pretty sure he no more some kind of ass-kicking warrior  than he was a metrosexual clothing consultant.

He was a 1st century Jewish teacher and rabbi, convinced that God was bringing something to completion through him as he wandered around Palestine teaching and healing, laughing and instructing his little band of followers.

At least we can say that he probably had sensible shoes.

It’s always tempting to re-make Jesus in our own image. Frankly, if I did that, Jesus would be able to:

  • talk—intelligently and passionately—equally about the Clash, the Black Keys, and Sigur Ros
  • tell me about some obscure documentary on the life a tree slug and how, “no really dude, you have to watch it: it’s profound!”
  • lay my office out perfectly
  • come over to drink beer, eat chips and Frontera Grill Chipotlé salsa and watch European soccer

But you know what? That’s not the Jesus I need. 

I need a Jesus who:

  • fit into his culture, and into the story of God but transcended it and completed
  • loves and accepts sinners and the broken
  • can heal people (even though not always quickly)
  • isn’t interested in what I want, but wants to show me what God wants and is up to in the world
  • was obedient, all the way to the Cross

So yeah, I abhor that comment, and I disagree pretty vehemently with it (never mind his interpretation of Revelation, but that will wait until next time), but I also need to watch my own tendency to reduce Christ to my image.

He’s way beyond that.

(By the way, if you are interested in some highly intelligent work on who Jesus was and what he did, I would highly recommend N.T. Wright and Scot McKnight as great starting points.)

The Power of Story

from blogs.amctv.com

The new season of Mad Men started last night (finally).

I love AMC’s tag line: they know that everything revolves around story, and they do a great job of finding shows that tap into the beautiful ambiguity that is our humanity. Every character in Mad Men, it seems is capable of acts of great beauty and great depravity…

A lot like all of us.

I, for one, am drawn into this ambiguity and to the power of these characters’ story: who they are, how they got to be that way, and what they are struggling to become.

We also just got back from Walt Disney World, and it can be argued that no one understands “story” like Disney. I grew up in Texas only a short drive from the original “Six Flags” park. Last night, my wife and I were reflecting on Six Flags versus Disney. It actually seems like Six Flags has more thrills, more rides.

But what they don’t have is story.

I haven’t been to one of those parks in a long time, but my hunch is that there aren’t people walking around with Six Flags t-shirts, wearing Six Flags lanyards, with Six Flags buttons on them that represent the 20 years they’ve been coming to Six Flags parks.

Six Flags is a good for a weekend ride, but Disney has crafted an ability to make their story a part of your story. They’ve created an experience that people have integrated into their lives, telling, retelling, and then re-experiencing the park over and over.

I think the lesson is this: events are only the beginning. To create something special, our churches need to be about creating environments where people can experience an event, tell the story of that event, tell the story of their lives, and then allow their story and the community’s story to merge and intertwine.

Thoughts?

THE Prayer Pt 3 :: “May Your name be kept holy.” (or, “More Holy Than a Coaster”)

Our Father, who lives in the heavens,
May Your name be kept holy.
May Your Kingdom come,
May Your will be done,
On earth just like it’s done in Your presence.

Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive our sins
As we forgive those who sin against us.
Don’t bring us to the times of trial,
But deliver us from the evil one.
Amen.

When I was a kid, I had some pretty strange religious beliefs.

For instance, I determined that prayers “bounced”. Since people always prayed with their heads down, and since God was “up there” in heaven (though now I know better), I determined that our prayers must bounce off the floor and then soar up to heaven to God.

Unfortunately (for me), the opposite also held true: if I somehow made the mistake and prayed face up (like lying on my back in bed), then my prayers would bounce off the ceiling and go, you know, “down there.” 

To the devil.

Heavy, right?

I remember one evening when I prayed to go to sleep quickly. Unfortunately, I was facing up when I did. I didn’t go to sleep until like 3 or 4am.

Well, it was probably more like 11:30, but you know how things feel when you’re a kid. It was terrifying!

I was also unreasonably concerned with the Bible. It had to be face-up on my nightstand (even if I seldom read it, much less followed its teachings), and never, ever, could something—such as my ever-present bedtime snack of a can of Coke and peanut butter toast—be set on top of the Word.

While it kept my Bible in pristine condition, this is not what God means by “holiness.”

Keeping God’s name holy is much more than setting him aside and making sure that he doesn’t get sugar or toast crumbs on Him or His bible. It’s much more revolutionary and active than that.

To state it succinctly: God’s people are entrusted with maintaining the “holiness” of God’s name. 

“The house of Israel, as the chosen people of God, were the guardians of His reputation in the world. By worthy actions they brought credit upon Him and ‘sanctified His name’ … A bad action more than involved the Jew in personal guilt; it was treachery to his God and people.” (Abraham Cohen, Everyman’s Talmud, 23)

In the book of Ezekiel, God lays it out plainly: “But when they (the Israelites) were scattered among the nations, they brought shame on my holy name. For the nations said, ‘These are the people of the LORD, but he couldn’t keep them safe in his own land.’ Then I was concerned for my holy name, on which my people brought shame among the nations.” (36:20-21)

There’s something almost human and tender about the idea that God—the Creator of the universe—allows His reputation to hinge on the behavior or humanity. He is not above being hurt by us, and He openly entrusts this to us.

So to pray “may Your name be kept holy” is to actually pray , “God may I live my life in such a way that I enhance your reputation in the world. May my life be filled with the fruit of Your Holy Spirit so that people will see my life and wonder, ‘What fuels her life? What or Who is behind that?'”

It’s about a whole lot more than just making sure your bible isn’t a coaster.

  • What does it mean to you that we are entrusted with God’s reputation?
  • Understanding that your life is on stage, are you “keeping God’s name holy”? On Facebook? On Twitter? In “da club”?

Ira Glass, pastor.

Well, not quite, but take 2 minutes and watch this.

 

Now ask yourself, “What if instead of ‘creative work’, Ira Glass was talking about the spiritual life?”

Does this change the way you view growth, sin and “failure”?

It should.

Three quick thoughts.

  • We don’t necessarily need to be “people of taste” in order to determine what God might want for us; rather, we are a people of “The Book”. The scriptures tell us what God wants for us; that’s where we find the vision for our lives.
  • Knowing that there’s a “gap” between that vision and where we are at, we should expect to fail. We won’t be perfect. Not for a long time.
  • That being said, the point is to keep doing the things that pull and push us toward that vision. I’m not talking about merely “exterior”/visible things like service; I’m referring to the quiet, secret things like prayer, meditation, scripture study and reflection. These “creative” things make room inside us for God’s Spirit to take hold and begin to mold and change us.

The point is to allow God’s Spirit to “close the gap” between where we are and what He wants us to be.

To become “Gospel Artists”

To “ship” our lives.

Keep the Inside In and Outside Out

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.

Yes, we live under constant danger of death because we serve Jesus, so that the life of Jesus will be evident in our dying bodies. (2 Corinthians 4:7-11 NLT)

When I was young, I used to be really intrigued by the concept of “inside out”. When I came out of my room before elementary school, my mom would occasionally to point out that my shirt was inside out. As I set out to remedy the situation, I dwelled on the question, if “inside-out” was wrong, was “outside-in” better? When I figured out that inside-in (or the outside-out) was the goal, my mind was pretty near blown.

I had a lot of time on my hands.

I think about that when I think of Paul’s metaphor here. Paul says—quite beautifully—that no matter what happens on the outside, our inside is safe and protected. Though our exterior—our actions, our emotions, our bodies, our circumstances—is actually fragile and occasionally even broken, something else is going on inside. Inside is a treasure that cannot be touched.

That’s Good News.

This treasure—the love God as represented by Jesus Christ—was effected and cemented at the Cross, and nothing that happens to these jars we have can change the love that was expressed there. Though we are called to bring what is inside out to the world, nothing that the world—or life—tries to do to the treasure inside is ultimately effective.

Our “treasure” is safe.

One of the great deceptions of life is that our “treasure” can somehow be diminished or harmed by the outside circumstances of life: by the mistakes we make, by the subtle, damning whispering voices in our souls that accuse and intimidate.

But for those of us who have allowed God’s love to seize us, that can’t happen.

Our inside stays in, and the outside stays out.

Jesus is just that strong. 

Do we need to pay attention to that work? Yes.

Do we need to make room in our lives for Jesus’ voice of love and acceptance? Yes.

Do we need to quiet ourselves in order to see that treasure inside us? Yes.

But the treasure remains. Yes we are jars, yes we are broken and fragile.

But the treasure isn’t. It is solid…

beautiful…

golden.

And it’s inside you.

  • What voice do you need to hear this week?
  • Are you focusing more on your “jar”, or on the treasure that rests inside it?

Grace, peace, and mercy to you…

Thoughts on THE Prayer Pt 2 :: “In the heavens…”

Our Father, who lives in the heavens,
May Your name be kept holy.
May Your Kingdom come,
May Your will be done,
On earth just like it’s done in Your presence.

Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive our sins
As we forgive those who sin against us.
Don’t bring us to the times of trial,
But deliver us from the evil one.
Amen.

Where does God live, and why does it matter?

This phrase introduces two ideas about God that exist in constant tension: God’s transcendence and God’s immanence. 

God’s transcendence is the “clouds-in-the-sky” part of God: the I-created-the-whole-world aspect of God’s character. This incredible power was important to God’s people; it established YHWH’s credentials as the ultimate power in the world. This is the power that is present at, over, and above creation; in fact, you could say that the point of Genesis 1 and 2 is not to show that God can count to seven or invent the platypus. It’s to show that God is separate from and has power over the creation.

Jesus is not using this phrase so that his prayers have the correct “address” to get to God. He uses the phrase as a form of worship, as a way of reminding himself of God’s infinite power. No matter what life on earth looks like, Jesus prays to the God who created the whole operation, and is more than capable of intervening at any point.

Simultaneously, the phrase “in the heavens” indicates another—and almost more profound—mode of God’s existence. Simply put, “the heavens” doesn’t just indicate a specific address beyond the clouds where God lives (with an awesome beard).

The heavens can mean anywhere.

Even right next to you…

even inside you.

To pray to “our Father in the heavens” is not merely to call on God’s infinite creative power, it’s to call on his intimate presence. 

It means that He is not standing (sitting?) far off watching us succeed or fail, watching us walk or stumble or crawl or fall. He is capable of being everywhere: in our vehicles, in our classrooms, in our dining room, in our cube farm.

Because of His infinite (transcendent) power, He has can be absolutely (immanently) anywhere.

A couple of questions:

  • Does your prayer life involve worship? What would it mean to turn your thoughts to God’s infinite power during prayer, to dwell on the fact that He is in control of everything? How powerful (or weak) is the God of your prayers?
  • Does your prayer life address the fact that God is very, very near? That He has not left us to languish, but is dynamically and constantly present with us? What would it mean to understand the infinite as intimately present with you? How close is the God of your prayers?

Father God you are infinitely present in the heavens; in control of all. You were present before creation, and at creation, and will exist forever. You are all powerful, and nothing is beyond your doing. I thank You that You in control of all the situations that stress me out, or that cause me distress, and I ask You to sustain me through them. At the same time, Lord, I know that You are very gently present with me, even as I sit in this kitchen typing. Not only are You ‘Lord Most High,’ You are also ‘God With Us.’ You are here as I walk through my day, and are always inviting me into a deeper, fuller life of submission and obedience. I pray that I might exist more completely in Your presence, in order to see Your creative power at work in my life. Amen.

Remember

Remember how the LORD your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character, and to find out whether or not you would obey his commands. (Deuteronomy 8:2)

I used to read about how worship was about “remembering”.

I disagreed.

I didn’t like that language. To me, at the time, worship was about passion, intensity… Tears, repentance, joy.

The list went on and on; I preferred words like that over “flat-line” words like “remember.”

I mean, I remember to get milk from the store; I remember to pick up a pen before I leave for work (no really, I do).

I wanted worship to be more about “remembering.” I wanted it to be like … well…

A Rage Against the Machine Concert…

… Or … what was that band from Ireland?

THAT was what I wanted worship to feel like.

(and yes, EVERY Sunday)

But this weekend I reconsidered.

To put it bluntly, worship is absolutely based on remembrance: of our salvation, of the things God has done for us.

If it’s not, it’s idolatry.

Harsh, I know, but if worship isn’t grounded in the acts of God, than we are either making up things up or worshiping “worship.”

And that adds up to idolatry.

It’s easy to sing songs; it’s not too difficult to get people to sing with you  (well, some Sundays it is).

But that’s not the point.

Over and over, God tells people to “remember” how He set them free from slavery, and brought them through the wilderness to the land that He promised them. He could’ve put on an amazing light show; he could’ve parted the sea (again)…

… He probably could even have played “Fix You” (just to get ’em all crying and to show how relevant He is).

But He didn’t. He just said, “Remember that I’ve done this thing for you and for my mission in the world. That tells you everything you need to know about me.

The point is to get people to remember their salvation, and to thank God for it, and to remind themselves what He is capable of, what His character is.

That’s a bit harder.

 

Thoughts on “THE Prayer”, pt 1 :: “Our Father”

“The Lord’s Prayer: (or the “Our Father”, depending on your tradition) is a simultaneously a prayer of vast width and incredible intimacy. I thought I’d do a series of blogs on it.

If you’re looking for a way to begin your prayer life, this is a great place to start. You can just start off by praying the words, and allow your mind to expand the phrases as you come to understand them.

Here’s the first one.

Our Father, who lives in the heavens,
May Your name be kept holy.
May Your Kingdom come,
May Your will be done,
On earth just like it’s done in Your presence.

Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive our sins
As we forgive those who sin against us.
Don’t bring us to the times of trial,
But deliver us from the evil one.
Amen.

Right off the bat, let’s be clear: Jesus’ use of the word “father” (or even “abba”) in prayer was not unique. There are plenty of ancient examples of folks addressing God in this way. Jesus’ use of the phrase is much more incisive, much deep than this.

In the book of Exodus, God tells Moses to tell Pharaoh, “‘Israel is my firstborn son. I commanded you, ‘Let my son go, so he can worship me'” (4:22). God is about to decisively act to free His people, and begin a new phase of His great rescue operation that began in Genesis 2, and will eventually end in Revelation 21. After God frees “his son,” he declares in Exodus 19 that they are now “my kingdom of priests, my holy nation” (v6).

So one way of understanding these two simple words is that we are identifying ourselves as Israel, God’s redeemed people. In the same way that God claims “his son” as Israel, we are claiming Him as “our Father”, and also saying, “I’m a part of your people; I want to be a part of your redemption in the world.” Along with our participation in that mission comes our forgiveness, the opportunity for transformation, and membership in the family of God.

In some liturgical traditions, the prayer is introduced by reminding the congregation that “we are bold to pray” this prayer.

True enough: It’s bold to walk right up to the Creator of the Universe and just declare, “I’m yours!”

But that’s what we’re invited to do.

Remember that God declares that Israel is His son before they’ve done anything for Him. 

He just pronounces it.

As a gift.

Jesus ultimately is saying, “I’m leading a new Exodus from evil and oppression, and you are welcome to join. Come and be a part of a new freedom movement, an ultimate  defeat of evil and oppression, and the beginning of the era of resurrection.”

So, “Our Father,” is a big declaration of the graciousness of God, of His ultimate victory, and of our role (as priests!) in His world and in His plans.

You can pray it with a sense of awe, but you can pray it boldly.