“…Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
Genesis 32:26, NLT
Jacob’s story as it is told in the book of Genesis is one of my favorites. The story begins with Jacob camped out by the Jabbok River waiting to meet Esau, his twin brother. As you probably remember, Jacob cheated Esau out of his firstborn blessing and has now received word that Esau is about to pay him a visit accompanied by an army of 400 men undoubtedly in order to get revenge. As Jacob waits overnight and wonders what is going to happen, he ends up wrestling with a man. Because the ‘man’ saw he could not win, he wrenches Jacob’s hip from his socket. Astonishingly, even with his hip out of joint Jacob will not let go until the ‘man’ blesses him! The ‘man’, who turns out to be an angel of the Lord, finally blesses Jacob and gives him a new name, Israel, which means “he who struggles with God.”
What I most admire in this story is Jacob’s perseverance and the way he will absolutely not let go until he receives a blessing. His faith makes me wonder about my own--could I persevere with God in prayer and to not let go until God blesses? It seems that what most of us desire from our prayers are instant answers and immediate results. Yet the Bible speaks many times about persistence—from Jesus’ parable about the widow and the unjust judge (Luke 18) to Paul’s many comments on persevering in prayer, such as ‘keep on praying’ (Rom.12:12), pray at all times and be persistent in your prayers (Eph. 8:18), ‘devote yourselves to prayer’ (Col. 4:2), and finally to ‘never stop praying’ (I Thess. 5:17).
For many years I have pondered the power of intercessory prayer, which is simply the type of prayer where we lift up the needs of others before God. Some people seem to have a gift for this type of prayer. Recently one of my professors described intercessory prayer as similar to when Jacob clung to God and would not let go--except in intercessory prayer we cling to God, not letting go until he blesses the person we are praying for. This certainly challenges the usual way we pray for others. Instead of just mumbling a prayer to God on someone’s behalf what if we, like Jacob, grasped God tightly and would not let go? What would it be like to persist in prayer and not give up when the answers don’t come quickly?
Would that we all could learn to be more like Jacob--unwilling to let go, daring to persist, to persevere, to hang on for dear life--as we lift others before God in prayer.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Noah and the Impervious Neanderthals
3 minutes in the car tonight with my son Noah. A verbatim transcript.
"Dad, did you know that they are not going to launch the Space Shuttle anymore?"
"No I hadn't heard that."
"Yes, it is being retired. They are building a new ship that is impervious to heat, in order to fly to Mars."
Silence. Did he just say impervious?
How many 10 year olds know the word impervious?
"They want to build it within the next three years."
I want to ask him how he knows this but I'm afraid to.
Some deer are in a field next to the road.
"Oh. Hey look at all those deer! Did you see them?"
Noah looks around. "Yeah I see them."
"There were four of them. Did you see all four? One of them had horns," I say.
Silence.
"Dad, deer don't have horns, they're called antlers."
"Oops. My mistake." How embarrassing.
Silence.
We drive up to our house.
"Hey Noah, remember this time last year they were building our house?"
"I remember."
"And we were living in the rental house. Do you remember the rent house?"
Silence. He furrows his brow and frowns.
"I don't want to remember the rent house," he says very seriously.
"Why not?"
"Because I had to share a room with that Neanderthal named Hannah Potts."
Ah, yes. I also had a Neanderthal sibling. A terrible thing to deal with. I want to assure him that Neanderthals do get better over time, but he'll find that out for himself.
Interesting what one can learn by spending a few short minutes in the car with a child!
"Dad, did you know that they are not going to launch the Space Shuttle anymore?"
"No I hadn't heard that."
"Yes, it is being retired. They are building a new ship that is impervious to heat, in order to fly to Mars."
Silence. Did he just say impervious?
How many 10 year olds know the word impervious?
"They want to build it within the next three years."
I want to ask him how he knows this but I'm afraid to.
Some deer are in a field next to the road.
"Oh. Hey look at all those deer! Did you see them?"
Noah looks around. "Yeah I see them."
"There were four of them. Did you see all four? One of them had horns," I say.
Silence.
"Dad, deer don't have horns, they're called antlers."
"Oops. My mistake." How embarrassing.
Silence.
We drive up to our house.
"Hey Noah, remember this time last year they were building our house?"
"I remember."
"And we were living in the rental house. Do you remember the rent house?"
Silence. He furrows his brow and frowns.
"I don't want to remember the rent house," he says very seriously.
"Why not?"
"Because I had to share a room with that Neanderthal named Hannah Potts."
Ah, yes. I also had a Neanderthal sibling. A terrible thing to deal with. I want to assure him that Neanderthals do get better over time, but he'll find that out for himself.
Interesting what one can learn by spending a few short minutes in the car with a child!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Let's Have Church at Bonnaroo
Time for confession.
I went to Bonnaroo. Yes, THE Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival, held on a 700 acre farm outside Manchester, Tennessee. With my good friend and music mogul Al B. Who drove us down in his turbocharged Mini Cooper. Yes, it was cool. Very, very cool.
An estimated 85,000 people were there I heard. Lots and lots and lots of people.
Let me tell you first of all, Bonnaroo was not as wild and crazy as we are led to believe. Is there wildness? Sure, in spots. Is it crazy? Not quite. Then again, I was there on Saturday night only and just for a few hours. The draw for myself and many of my middle aged peers was simply to witness this stop on the reunion tour of that aging rock trio from our collective past known as the Police.
The Police concert was excellent, though a close observer might have noted a distinct lack of passion in the band's performance. Our passes got us very close to the stage, so close in fact after their third song I began to wonder if I would be able to hear my beloved children arguing with each other ever again. Midway through the show, Al and I left the front of the stage for the posh digs of a luxurious tour bus, enabling us to sit in wondrous air conditioned comfort, courtesy of Al's producer friend. Not the usual 'roonie' experience, I suppose, but a lucky break for an ex-hippie pastor and his aching ears. Being able to leave behind the dust and the smoke was a bonus.
But I digress, as my intent is not to review the show nor talk about great it was to hang out with Al and his music biz friends. I want to know why there was no church at Bonnaroo. Specifically no church from my denomination. Please understand that I did not walk every square inch of the farm down in Manchester looking for someone from a church. I'm simply betting we had no presence there at all other than myself pumping my fist in the air during 'Message In A Bottle'. Friends, I believe that having no church presence at Bonnaroo is a mistake.
Now before someone calls the bishop and attempts to have me defrocked for posting heresy on the 'net, let me tell you what my first person experience there taught me. Bonnaroo attracts the very demographic that the mainline church can't seem to reach no matter how hard we try. The young people we are constantly wringing our hands over because they do not come to our churches were at this festival in droves. At first I believed they came because of the music. Maybe that was not the true reason. On the way home, deep in thought, it came to me.
While music and arts are obvious draws, maybe what these young people sought the most was the feeling of being a part of something bigger than themselves. To join a community of like minded people united in a common goal, sharing a common experience. Leaving behind a life that doesn't have much going on in it and coming to Bonnaroo for a few days.
Doesn't this sound very similar to the description of the church as it is written in the biblical book of Acts? A group of people united around a common experience (the death and resurrection of Christ), sharing a common experience together (gathered at the table for communion), so they could ultimately be a part of something bigger than themselves (the redemption of the world). Leaving a life that was not much to brag about so that they could instead be filled with the Spirit and life of Jesus. Wow.
I want to go back to the farm in Manchester. Not to hear the umpteenth inevitable reunion concert put on by a band from my generation. I want to go back and represent Christ there. Rent a booth. Give away lots of bottles of water. Silently pray for people as they pass by. Assist those who need help. Mix, mingle, and meet. No Christian t-shirts or giving away Bibles or asking for donations or anything like that. Instead go there with the express purpose of being salt and light and yeast and all those other metaphors Jesus gave us to help us understand our mission to the world. A mission to love people unconditionally, while being the church, the very presence of the living Jesus Christ. Right smack in the middle of the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival.
Of course there will be an outcry from those who think they know better. I hear their rumblings in the distance--"Going to Bonnaroo is a disaster in the making! You'll ruin your witness for the Lord!" they could say, or maybe warn "you might fail a drug test from all the secondhand, um, smoke that will get into your system" or "you'll end up being tempted to do something really awful that might make the news, embarrassing us all" or "Don't you know there will be strange new age practices going on, even those Wiccans will be there.' And on and on it could go. Someone might even question our motives by saying, "Why would you want to hang around with such scum?"
You might already know that they said the same thing to Jesus many years ago when he was at a dinner party with some unsavory, un-church-worthy folks (Mark 2:16 NLT). What a magnificent response he uttered to the snide comments made about the company he dined with. It's worth reading when you get a chance. Good stuff. God stuff.
I think we need to have church at Bonnaroo next year. Who's going with me?
I went to Bonnaroo. Yes, THE Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival, held on a 700 acre farm outside Manchester, Tennessee. With my good friend and music mogul Al B. Who drove us down in his turbocharged Mini Cooper. Yes, it was cool. Very, very cool.
An estimated 85,000 people were there I heard. Lots and lots and lots of people.
Let me tell you first of all, Bonnaroo was not as wild and crazy as we are led to believe. Is there wildness? Sure, in spots. Is it crazy? Not quite. Then again, I was there on Saturday night only and just for a few hours. The draw for myself and many of my middle aged peers was simply to witness this stop on the reunion tour of that aging rock trio from our collective past known as the Police.
The Police concert was excellent, though a close observer might have noted a distinct lack of passion in the band's performance. Our passes got us very close to the stage, so close in fact after their third song I began to wonder if I would be able to hear my beloved children arguing with each other ever again. Midway through the show, Al and I left the front of the stage for the posh digs of a luxurious tour bus, enabling us to sit in wondrous air conditioned comfort, courtesy of Al's producer friend. Not the usual 'roonie' experience, I suppose, but a lucky break for an ex-hippie pastor and his aching ears. Being able to leave behind the dust and the smoke was a bonus.
But I digress, as my intent is not to review the show nor talk about great it was to hang out with Al and his music biz friends. I want to know why there was no church at Bonnaroo. Specifically no church from my denomination. Please understand that I did not walk every square inch of the farm down in Manchester looking for someone from a church. I'm simply betting we had no presence there at all other than myself pumping my fist in the air during 'Message In A Bottle'. Friends, I believe that having no church presence at Bonnaroo is a mistake.
Now before someone calls the bishop and attempts to have me defrocked for posting heresy on the 'net, let me tell you what my first person experience there taught me. Bonnaroo attracts the very demographic that the mainline church can't seem to reach no matter how hard we try. The young people we are constantly wringing our hands over because they do not come to our churches were at this festival in droves. At first I believed they came because of the music. Maybe that was not the true reason. On the way home, deep in thought, it came to me.
While music and arts are obvious draws, maybe what these young people sought the most was the feeling of being a part of something bigger than themselves. To join a community of like minded people united in a common goal, sharing a common experience. Leaving behind a life that doesn't have much going on in it and coming to Bonnaroo for a few days.
Doesn't this sound very similar to the description of the church as it is written in the biblical book of Acts? A group of people united around a common experience (the death and resurrection of Christ), sharing a common experience together (gathered at the table for communion), so they could ultimately be a part of something bigger than themselves (the redemption of the world). Leaving a life that was not much to brag about so that they could instead be filled with the Spirit and life of Jesus. Wow.
I want to go back to the farm in Manchester. Not to hear the umpteenth inevitable reunion concert put on by a band from my generation. I want to go back and represent Christ there. Rent a booth. Give away lots of bottles of water. Silently pray for people as they pass by. Assist those who need help. Mix, mingle, and meet. No Christian t-shirts or giving away Bibles or asking for donations or anything like that. Instead go there with the express purpose of being salt and light and yeast and all those other metaphors Jesus gave us to help us understand our mission to the world. A mission to love people unconditionally, while being the church, the very presence of the living Jesus Christ. Right smack in the middle of the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival.
Of course there will be an outcry from those who think they know better. I hear their rumblings in the distance--"Going to Bonnaroo is a disaster in the making! You'll ruin your witness for the Lord!" they could say, or maybe warn "you might fail a drug test from all the secondhand, um, smoke that will get into your system" or "you'll end up being tempted to do something really awful that might make the news, embarrassing us all" or "Don't you know there will be strange new age practices going on, even those Wiccans will be there.' And on and on it could go. Someone might even question our motives by saying, "Why would you want to hang around with such scum?"
You might already know that they said the same thing to Jesus many years ago when he was at a dinner party with some unsavory, un-church-worthy folks (Mark 2:16 NLT). What a magnificent response he uttered to the snide comments made about the company he dined with. It's worth reading when you get a chance. Good stuff. God stuff.
I think we need to have church at Bonnaroo next year. Who's going with me?
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Obey Your Thirst
“O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1
Weeks without any rain have made our backyard look like the Judean desert. What little grass we have, in between the rocks and the weeds, is brown and lifeless. In some places the ground is so parched that it has become cracked and even walking around stirs up clouds of dust. Seeing my yard in this state reminded me of Psalm 63, where the Psalmist compares his search for God with being in a dry, weary land that has no water.
Sometimes our spiritual lives can feel desert-like, dry and weary. God’s presence seems to have gone from us and we long to hear from God, to feel God’s love again, to be reassured of God’s grace. And just like the summer rains returned this week, nourishing lawns, gardens, and flowerbeds, suddenly and unexpectedly God’s mercy flows over us like rain. We are drenched in love and feel rejuvenated and fresh again in our faith.
In our faith journey desert like times will come, where we feel dry, disconnected, wondering where God is and why we can’t sense the presence of our Creator. The Psalmist reminds us that even in these times of spiritual drought we must continue to seek God out, longing and thirsting for nothing else. Just when we think we can’t go any further, God shows up—washing us tenderly in the waters of mercy, allowing us again to drink from his love.
If you are having a dry time spiritually, do not despair. Keep seeking God out and don’t give up. Sometimes we foolishly try to satisfy ourselves with things that cannot quench our thirst for God. Remember that the One who has the living water is faithful and desires to give your weary soul exactly what it most thirsts for. “Let anyone who is thirsty come,” is the invitation found in Revelation 22. And just like the surprising summer rains came, so will God come and nourish us again.
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1
Weeks without any rain have made our backyard look like the Judean desert. What little grass we have, in between the rocks and the weeds, is brown and lifeless. In some places the ground is so parched that it has become cracked and even walking around stirs up clouds of dust. Seeing my yard in this state reminded me of Psalm 63, where the Psalmist compares his search for God with being in a dry, weary land that has no water.
Sometimes our spiritual lives can feel desert-like, dry and weary. God’s presence seems to have gone from us and we long to hear from God, to feel God’s love again, to be reassured of God’s grace. And just like the summer rains returned this week, nourishing lawns, gardens, and flowerbeds, suddenly and unexpectedly God’s mercy flows over us like rain. We are drenched in love and feel rejuvenated and fresh again in our faith.
In our faith journey desert like times will come, where we feel dry, disconnected, wondering where God is and why we can’t sense the presence of our Creator. The Psalmist reminds us that even in these times of spiritual drought we must continue to seek God out, longing and thirsting for nothing else. Just when we think we can’t go any further, God shows up—washing us tenderly in the waters of mercy, allowing us again to drink from his love.
If you are having a dry time spiritually, do not despair. Keep seeking God out and don’t give up. Sometimes we foolishly try to satisfy ourselves with things that cannot quench our thirst for God. Remember that the One who has the living water is faithful and desires to give your weary soul exactly what it most thirsts for. “Let anyone who is thirsty come,” is the invitation found in Revelation 22. And just like the surprising summer rains came, so will God come and nourish us again.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Good Grief
Grief is a funny thing in human beings. I had so much to do preparing last year to leave my former pastorate and getting ready to come to a new church that I did not give myself either time or permission to grieve all the things I lost in the move. Not the loss of physical things, though I'm sure some of my stuff might still be missing. I'm thinking instead of the loss of relationships, some that had been nurtured and sustained for years. Pastors have difficulty with grief in general. We are so used to helping others grieve, being strong and supportive, that we forget sometimes that we need to grieve as well. It took some time and some work, but I have recently been able to acknowledge a lot of my own grief about the massive change that took place in my life, and the lives of my family, over the last year.
Change causes us to grieve because we like stability. We like things to stay the same. But they almost never do. Some changes are good—indoor plumbing is one thing I really appreciate, for example. Some changes are not so good—the fact that food, mostly fast food, is available on nearly every corner is not a good change for me. Some changes are both good and bad—cell phones enable us to call someone in the event of an emergency but also can keep us tied down 24 hours a day, seven days a week, unable to take Sabbath time.
One of the things I had to learn this past year was that it is OK to grieve when things change. We need to learn to express our grief in healthy ways by acknowledging it and working through it. Grief, like other emotions, only becomes problematic when either we deny how we feel or when we hold on to our grief for so long we refuse to see the future God has planned for us. A lesson that I have spent the last year learning is that spending too much time in grief keeps us from being able to see God’s good future.
When I left Kroger for the ministry one of my employees gave me a paperweight with this verse on it:
“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a good future.” Jeremiah 29:11
The verse has remained on my desk and in my heart since then. While we don’t always understand why things happen the way they do, what we can be sure of is that God wants for us to be hopeful of the future that is being prepared for us. Jeremiah wrote this verse in the time of the Exile, when Babylon had begun taking Jews as captives from Israel, culminating in the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BC. So these words were not written in happy times, but instead when times were bleak and the Jewish people were experiencing a lot of grief.
Jeremiah reminds us that God always has a good future planned for us. While sometimes we might not really understand what God is doing, we always can trust that our God is good. Grief over change can lead to joy about the future, if we are willing to let go our grief and instead grab God's hand as he leads us on.
Change causes us to grieve because we like stability. We like things to stay the same. But they almost never do. Some changes are good—indoor plumbing is one thing I really appreciate, for example. Some changes are not so good—the fact that food, mostly fast food, is available on nearly every corner is not a good change for me. Some changes are both good and bad—cell phones enable us to call someone in the event of an emergency but also can keep us tied down 24 hours a day, seven days a week, unable to take Sabbath time.
One of the things I had to learn this past year was that it is OK to grieve when things change. We need to learn to express our grief in healthy ways by acknowledging it and working through it. Grief, like other emotions, only becomes problematic when either we deny how we feel or when we hold on to our grief for so long we refuse to see the future God has planned for us. A lesson that I have spent the last year learning is that spending too much time in grief keeps us from being able to see God’s good future.
When I left Kroger for the ministry one of my employees gave me a paperweight with this verse on it:
“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a good future.” Jeremiah 29:11
The verse has remained on my desk and in my heart since then. While we don’t always understand why things happen the way they do, what we can be sure of is that God wants for us to be hopeful of the future that is being prepared for us. Jeremiah wrote this verse in the time of the Exile, when Babylon had begun taking Jews as captives from Israel, culminating in the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BC. So these words were not written in happy times, but instead when times were bleak and the Jewish people were experiencing a lot of grief.
Jeremiah reminds us that God always has a good future planned for us. While sometimes we might not really understand what God is doing, we always can trust that our God is good. Grief over change can lead to joy about the future, if we are willing to let go our grief and instead grab God's hand as he leads us on.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Finding an Oasis in the Sahara
I'm worried.
I know I'm not supposed to be. Jesus said very clearly not to worry.
Maybe a better word is concerned. I'm very concerned.
It seems like every friend I have is struggling with ministry right now. Some are ordained, some want to be ordained, and some do ministry without any thought of ordination by the church. (An aside, the last group might be the most satisfied--but that is a topic for another day).
Now I know that some of you are going to be consumed with who it is that I am talking about here. Others will be saying, "Friends? He has that many friends?" Just go ahead and get it out of your system right now. Because this is serious. Very serious.
Hear me out. Ministry can be intoxicating. Extremely intoxicating. Like preaching a sermon that people really respond to. Watching someone after years of searching finally 'get it.' Praying with someone who is desperate or despondent or both and knowing that it makes a difference. Feeling the Holy Spirit take over and touch others through you. Intoxicating.
Sometimes ministry is so intoxicating that it causes us to forget for a time how difficult ministry really is. How lonely it can be. How tough it is to say one thing only to have people hear another. How hard it is to really discern what God wants. How painful it can be to follow the path Christ has set before us.
This intoxication is dangerous. Intoxication by its very nature does not last. We can only stay on the mountain for so long. Then we have to come back down to the valley. And often our intoxication leaves us with a terrible hangover, one that makes us wish we had never answered God's call in the first place. God has not called us to be intoxicated, but to love above all. Love him and love each other. With every fiber of our being. No asterisks, no excuses, no ifs, ands, or buts. You already knew that didn't you?
Ministry is hard. Because life is hard. And people can be hard as well.
I've had many times that I just wanted to quit. To pack it all up and say to God and the church, "Take this job and shove it." But I've never been able to do it yet. Is it because I'm addicted to the intoxication of ministry? I hope not. I believe instead that I can't quit because I did not choose this path in the first place. Jesus says, "You didn't choose me, I chose you." We are chosen by God, all of us, ordained or not, by Christ. To minister to the world in his name. To teach and pray and love and seek peace and look for the lost and make disciples of each other. In Jesus' name. In Jesus' name.
Jesus was no stranger to disappointment, or frustration, or difficulty, or being misunderstood. In John 6 we see this very clearly:
66 At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him.
67 Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”
Jesus cautions the disciples over and over again that following him will be tough. I think that's why the verse that came to me with my call, the verse that this blog is named for is so important. We must keep our hands on the plow AND not look back.
Perhaps we really need to read this reminder written by Paul from 2nd Corinthians 4:
7 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.
8 We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. 9 We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. 10 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.
16 That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. 17 For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! 18 So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
I want for my friends, for myself, and for you that our spirits might be renewed every day by spending more time with God in prayer. The good thing about tough times is that we all tend to pray more, seek God out more, and become more receptive to God's teaching and leading. Spending time in the desert is an uncomfortable though necessary part of our walk with Christ. Intense, extended prayer during this time can feel like an oasis in the midst of the Sahara.
There is certainly no need for my worry or my concern. Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." I'll keep praying for and encouraging and loving my friends. Just like they do for me.
I know I'm not supposed to be. Jesus said very clearly not to worry.
Maybe a better word is concerned. I'm very concerned.
It seems like every friend I have is struggling with ministry right now. Some are ordained, some want to be ordained, and some do ministry without any thought of ordination by the church. (An aside, the last group might be the most satisfied--but that is a topic for another day).
Now I know that some of you are going to be consumed with who it is that I am talking about here. Others will be saying, "Friends? He has that many friends?" Just go ahead and get it out of your system right now. Because this is serious. Very serious.
Hear me out. Ministry can be intoxicating. Extremely intoxicating. Like preaching a sermon that people really respond to. Watching someone after years of searching finally 'get it.' Praying with someone who is desperate or despondent or both and knowing that it makes a difference. Feeling the Holy Spirit take over and touch others through you. Intoxicating.
Sometimes ministry is so intoxicating that it causes us to forget for a time how difficult ministry really is. How lonely it can be. How tough it is to say one thing only to have people hear another. How hard it is to really discern what God wants. How painful it can be to follow the path Christ has set before us.
This intoxication is dangerous. Intoxication by its very nature does not last. We can only stay on the mountain for so long. Then we have to come back down to the valley. And often our intoxication leaves us with a terrible hangover, one that makes us wish we had never answered God's call in the first place. God has not called us to be intoxicated, but to love above all. Love him and love each other. With every fiber of our being. No asterisks, no excuses, no ifs, ands, or buts. You already knew that didn't you?
Ministry is hard. Because life is hard. And people can be hard as well.
I've had many times that I just wanted to quit. To pack it all up and say to God and the church, "Take this job and shove it." But I've never been able to do it yet. Is it because I'm addicted to the intoxication of ministry? I hope not. I believe instead that I can't quit because I did not choose this path in the first place. Jesus says, "You didn't choose me, I chose you." We are chosen by God, all of us, ordained or not, by Christ. To minister to the world in his name. To teach and pray and love and seek peace and look for the lost and make disciples of each other. In Jesus' name. In Jesus' name.
Jesus was no stranger to disappointment, or frustration, or difficulty, or being misunderstood. In John 6 we see this very clearly:
66 At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him.
67 Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”
Jesus cautions the disciples over and over again that following him will be tough. I think that's why the verse that came to me with my call, the verse that this blog is named for is so important. We must keep our hands on the plow AND not look back.
Perhaps we really need to read this reminder written by Paul from 2nd Corinthians 4:
7 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.
8 We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. 9 We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. 10 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.
16 That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. 17 For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! 18 So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
I want for my friends, for myself, and for you that our spirits might be renewed every day by spending more time with God in prayer. The good thing about tough times is that we all tend to pray more, seek God out more, and become more receptive to God's teaching and leading. Spending time in the desert is an uncomfortable though necessary part of our walk with Christ. Intense, extended prayer during this time can feel like an oasis in the midst of the Sahara.
There is certainly no need for my worry or my concern. Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." I'll keep praying for and encouraging and loving my friends. Just like they do for me.
Monday, May 21, 2007
The Power of the Spirit
Our preaching series this month at church is on the Holy Spirit, which will culminate in the celebration of Pentecost Sunday. Recently we began a new, second worship service using a praise band. The first Sunday the new service went off without a hitch. Yesterday was another story entirely, as we had several logistical problems including periods of loud feedback from our brand new sound system. When I began to preach it seemed like the sermon really was going nowhere and people just weren't 'getting it.' I was despondent and frustrated as the service ended.
Last night my family talked about how the Sunday service really impacted them. My daughter Hannah talked about the powerful Spirit she felt in the service. Kim, my wife, said she thought it was one of the most meaningful services she had experienced. Later on I spoke with an old friend who had visited the service. Her take was that the sermon was one of the best she'd ever heard me preach(!) and that the Holy Spirit was very present in the room. My associate pastor had already spoken about how when we were in prayer all the people seemed to be in a physical attitude of deep prayerfulness.
Sometimes I want perfection more than anything else. Yesterday was one of those times. I want so badly for this new service to work well, for people to experience God in a mighty way, for lives to be changed and healing to occur. I should know better, but sometimes still mistakenly think that a flawless worship service is imperative to get the Spirit to show up!
Thanks be to God that all a worship service really needs is the power of the Spirit to make a difference in people's lives. Whether we get everything perfectly ordered on our end of worship doesn't really matter. When the Spirit shows up, worship truly becomes a place of amazing grace.
Last night my family talked about how the Sunday service really impacted them. My daughter Hannah talked about the powerful Spirit she felt in the service. Kim, my wife, said she thought it was one of the most meaningful services she had experienced. Later on I spoke with an old friend who had visited the service. Her take was that the sermon was one of the best she'd ever heard me preach(!) and that the Holy Spirit was very present in the room. My associate pastor had already spoken about how when we were in prayer all the people seemed to be in a physical attitude of deep prayerfulness.
Sometimes I want perfection more than anything else. Yesterday was one of those times. I want so badly for this new service to work well, for people to experience God in a mighty way, for lives to be changed and healing to occur. I should know better, but sometimes still mistakenly think that a flawless worship service is imperative to get the Spirit to show up!
Thanks be to God that all a worship service really needs is the power of the Spirit to make a difference in people's lives. Whether we get everything perfectly ordered on our end of worship doesn't really matter. When the Spirit shows up, worship truly becomes a place of amazing grace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
