Expanding Upon Black Lives Matter

A controversial topic right now, in light of many tragic deaths, is the value of a human life, especially in relationship to another. All human life is sacred, from unborn children to 23-year-old drug dealers, no matter what we may think. All life has value, according to Genesis 9, “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image."

We all bear the image of God, especially fathers. Fathers reflect our Heavenly Father; we show love, give guidance, and provide stability in the lives of children. This is truly a blessed burden, to be held to such a standard. I myself struggle and fail with representing the perfect love and righteousness that my children need to have modeled to them. I don't always show them the right way to handle anger or frustration, or how to talk to others and love their mother. I miss dinner for work meetings, and I am not always attentive to their needs. But I do model for them a positive life as well, starting with confession and forgiveness. I lead the best I can and help them to be strong and confident in my (and my wife's) love and in the love of God. This is my duty, and this is the very beginning of "culture", raising our kids in the way they should go. PLEASE watch this video from Prager U; it unpacks a relatively un-discussed part of the conversation. Do I have a right to bring it up? Probably not, but this man does, and so does his father before him. You might not agree with everything he says, but it is hard to argue with statistics, and it is sure to leave you with some thoughts, which I would love to hear. May we continue to stand up for the value and dignity of every person, starting with our own children and those near and dear to us!

https://www.prageru.com/courses/race-relations/black-fathers-matter#.V17jISck_RU.mailto

Growing In, Not Up

I am married with two kids. 

It feels really weird to say that. 

I am a husband and father of two, and the implication of those words does not seem to correspond with my own perception of myself. 

I am married with two kids?! Don't get me wrong, I love it. I am so glad that this is my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything. But that doesn't feel like my reality right now. Add onto this that I am now called "Pastor" by a whole congregation of people... I went through the schooling, was deemed qualified, and got placed in the field, but does that make me "Pastor"? To be married with two kids, to be a pastor, means you're a grown-up, and I don't always feel like I am.

I think my "identity crisis" comes from the common conception that we "grow up". You outgrow the things of the past in order to become something new, something more, something better. That is not my reality, though. When I turned 18, I was called a "man" and no longer a boy. At the very least, Gillette mailed me a razor and told me I was (though beards are much more manly, am I right?). Was I not a man then, because I have a different perception today of what makes a man a man? (And no, a beard is not a requirement for being a man, although it is suggested.)

People told me I was loving and a good leader when I was in high school. I now have a much fuller understanding of what it means to love and to be a leader; does this mean that I was not really a leader in high school?

People told me I was smart when I was a child. I know so much more now than I did then; does this mean I wasn't actually smart as a child?

The real issue is that I have not grown up. Growing up is a lie, and it does not actually happen. There is not a future reality that is going to bigger and better than this moment. In this moment, I am as big as I could be, as much of a father, husband, son, Pastor, as I could be. And I will not out grow any of these things. Growing up means I am waiting for something bigger. But why should we be waiting for something else?

I am growing in. I am growing in to the qualities and jobs and titles I have been given. I was a husband from the moment I married my lovely bride, and I am growing into more and more of a husband. I was a father from the moment Abram was conceived, and I am growing into more and more of a father every day. I understand at a deeper level what it means to be a "man" as I get older, and I work to embody that, to more fully express that every day.

We grow in to the qualities, titles, and jobs we have. The task before us is not to grow up and out of what we once were, but to work at embodying more clearly and fully that which we already are. 

This does not give us license to be lazy. I don't have a free pass on maturity, just because I am growing into something more. Actually, the idea of growing up is what gives us a free pass. "Someday, when I grow up," you may say, "I will give up these habits, I will finally start doing such-and such." The reality is that we continue to mature, like a good wine, and there is no drastic change. It comes slowly, and with time. And this moment has an extreme importance in my development, in the process of me becoming more and more of what I have been created to be. 

I am married with two kids. I will never be more of a "Daddy" or husband than I am right now. And that is so encouraging. I am those things. And I will continue to be them, continue to grow in to the roles I have been given. It will be a process, and every day is important.

I don't want to discard who I am or where I've been. The "Daddy" I am today is pretty awesome, and I do not want to forget the wonders of being a new(ish) dad. I might not be equipped to parent a 14-year-old going through puberty, but I don't have to. Yet. I'll grow in to it. For now, I'll be who I am and do what God has given me to do.

Will you give up the idea of Growing Up? Will you give up the fantasy with me that there is something bigger coming? Will you embrace who you are right now, no matter how you feel, and be the person you have been made to be and do the things you have been given to do? 

I hope so. 

We are not alone

A poem for you, the reader. If you care to know what's behind it, a brief description follows the poem. I hope you know- you are not alone.

We are not alone

You made dust, you made dirt, finger touched all the earth.

Plants and trees, birds and bees: from your breath we have birth.

Lord God, you come to us, uniting God and man,

Inviting us to walk, in Spirit, in your hand.

No more walks, no more talks, we fell flat on our face,

Giving up our Garden, so ashamed, so disgraced.

You kept us from yourself, with a sword and a flame,

Took from us your Spirit, your presence and your name.

Decades spent in despair, we went years without you here.

When it seemed you didn’t care, that’s right when you drew near.

Jesus Christ, in our midst, healing some, touching all:

In his voice, we felt love; his presence reversed the fall.

When he died, to bring us back, we were left, alone once more.

But he sent the Advocate, to be with us forevermore.

Took away the orphan curse, Jesus made us God’s own.

Breathes new life into dirt, together we’re not alone!

We are not alone; we are not alone!

You gave us bodies, you gave us Breath.

Spirit indwelling keeps us from death.

Now and forever, free and alive,

God with us – Immanuel – has arrived.

(Recently, I contemplated what it meant that we have God's Spirit. Within us. Yet we are still separate from God... God is wholly holy mystery, unless such a being would choose to reveal God's own self and nature to us. As a Christian, I believe that God did do this, through Jesus Christ, the "Word made flesh." At the beginning of the Bible, God speaks, and the world is made. God's voice has power, and we find out later, and the beginning of the New Testament, that God's voice also has flesh and blood. Jesus came to make the unknowable God known. And more than that, Jesus promised us the Holy Spirit, so that we would never be without God's presence. This poem is meant to be a picture into what it means that we have the Holy Spirit, from the teachings of the Bible, especially in regard to the loneliness that we experience in the world today. It was originally a song, and maybe some day, we will be able to sing it together, because we are not alone!)

A Day Forgotten, A Life Lived

I had just gotten back from a trip to Guatemala, and I began to write down some of the memories I made, the highlights that hung on tight. After I had written down some of my experiences, I wrote the date of one experience: 3-4-14. And that's when it hit me.

March 4th had come and passed. And I didn't even notice.

To you, March 4th might not mean anything. But to me, it marks a day of life change. It marks a day that has marked every day after it. It is a day that requires reflection, demands my attention, demands my life be put on pause. March 4th is a day I have written about many times (here, and here, not to mention countless notebook pages), maybe the renewal of my self- and God-discovery through writing. I don't know what else to do with what goes on in my soul on March 4th.

I lost three friends in a car accident on March 4th (3-4-05), and ever since that truly terrible tragedy, every March 4th has been a reflective day in my life. I made a public promise to live my life remembering the lives of Dan, Carrie, and Lisa. I demanded that others do the same, patterning their lives in a way that would show honor and respect for those who no longer live. I commanded my community and school to live differently. And when I forgot to remember the day, I felt a tinge of guilt in my heart. I felt like a betrayer, one who has forgotten about those he has sworn himself to. Have I left their lives in 2005? Have I forgotten my friends?

I stopped writing for a long moment. My eyes continued on to the story I had just written. It was about Manuel, and Carlos. It was about visiting them, and their little village nestled between farmland and banana plants at the bottom of an active volcano in El Rincon, Guatemala. I could tell you the rest of their story, but that will be saved for another day. As I read over the words I had just written, I realized something profound.

I was living out the promise I made. I was doing exactly what I should have been doing. I was serving other people, showing them that their lives mattered, telling them that they are special. I wasn't focused on reserving a special moment for meditation, but rather I had refocused my life to accomplish a mission. I had promised to honor Dan, Carrie, and Lisa, by showing love and compassion to the world, especially those who need it the most. And I was doing just that.

It is easy to live in fear when we lose loved ones. We are afraid to forget what they meant to us, and miss important days (I remember January 3rd, too!). And these days can keep us from weeks and years of living our lives. What I realized is that I honor these people through living, and not through fearing. Maybe you have lost a loved one. Maybe one of your loved ones is the same as mine. Don't live in fear of forgetting. Live as a remembrance. And it isn't too late. You probably have some unresolved issues with that person(s). It is time to move on, and just change. Make the change that you wish you would have before they died. Live the life you have been given.

And if you forget the day that you used to fear, reflect on what you actually did that day. Maybe you will realize that you honored them not by removing yourself from the world, but rather by living your life for others. Or maybe it's time to change the way you live every day, and not just one day. Don't worry about a day forgotten, go experience a life lived.


How are you living (or going to start living) to honor someone you have lost?

A Hill to Die on

The Christian Church in America is up in arms. A flagship mission organization has issued a statement on homosexuality, and both sides are excited: some with anger and some with elation. Many are thinking about pulling support from the organization- and some already have.
"This is the battleground," people will say. "We gotta win the war on marriage; it's a war we must not lose!" Homosexuality is a direct, full on affront to God's ordained plan for the world. We cannot let it take place in America. America is doomed, damned, if homosexual marriage becomes a reality. It is a slap in the face to God, who designed things to be a certain way.

The reality is that the war on marriage has already been lost in America. It was decided long ago, and the church didn't do too much about it. It's something that Jesus actually does talk about by name, and not just by association: divorce. In America, people can get divorced without proof of infidelity, abuse, etc. They can get divorced on a whim, with no strings attached. It is called No-Fault Divorce.  See, the thing about marriage is it is not just a "union before God." Marriage is also a very public act, binding someone to another person and giving that person certain rights and responsibilities. It is an earthly covenant; some people make that covenant before God, while others choose to make it only before a judge. When no-fault divorce was legislated, the effect was that people were not held to their covenant responsibilities in America.

No-fault divorce destroyed the institution of marriage. It was exactly what the Pharisees were asking about in Matthew 19 ("Can a person get divorced for any reason??"), and Jesus said that was totally off from God's intended purpose. Jesus talks about marriage as something that binds one man to one woman, unites them for service and selfless love. Many Christians are debating the one man and one woman part. But I would contend that the American Church has by and large given up on the "binding" part.

The church is ignoring the conversation about divorce (not to mention pre-marital sex). It has become a norm in society and is not talked about much anymore. Many Christians are willing to die on the hill of homosexual marriage, but it is merely one side of a much bigger issue. If Christians want to die on the hill of marriage, that is all good and well, but please make sure it is upholding the whole of marriage. Talk about divorce, call people out for it, hold them accountable. Talk about pre-marital sex, tell children they are throwing away a precious gift from God, call out their parents for doing the same. Talk about pornography and how it is destroying how people view the opposite sex and totally objectifies men and women. And take it to the government! Demand that marriage actually be a binding covenant between two people: what God has put together, let man not put asunder. Demand that the multi-billion dollar porn industry be shut down. Please, don't stop halfway up the hill. Take your cross to the top, and die there.

But Jesus did not die on that hill. Jesus thought marriage was pretty important. Jesus thought a lot of things were important. But what he thought was most important was that people were separated from God and his love. People didn't know that their Creator cared. Can you believe it- God cares deeply for them, and they think he hates them! So Jesus came to this earth, met with adulterers, prostitutes, divorcees, and all kinds of people with shady lives. And he showed them God's love. He showed them that they had a place to belong. It offended a lot of "religious" people, because they didn't think those people were worth the love of God. They need to follow a bunch of rules to earn God's favor. Jesus had no room for those people- he actually refused to let them believe such a thing. He took his stand. Jesus called out people for refusing to care for those that God cared about. Jesus wanted sinners to know God's forgiveness and grace. That is the hill Jesus died on. The "religious" leaders condemned him because he opposed the rules, and they nailed him to a cross on the top of a hill.
I want to follow Jesus. That's the hill I want to die on. I don't want to give up my life for rules. I want to be so stubborn about people knowing that God has given them a place to belong in Jesus, regardless of where they have been, that it is offensive. Showing the unbelievable grace of God does not negate his truth. But, as Jesus proved, it is the only hill to die on.

Light in the darkness

No one would come here, unless they had to.
No one would walk these streets, unless they were forced to.
No one would live here, unless they had nowhere else to go.

It's depressing to live here. It's depressing to be surrounded by dirty cars, dilapidated roads, demolished and disgusting homes. If you can even call these homes. The one place with Christmas lights up- they never take them down, and not even half of them work. You can see, smell, taste decay. The forlorn face of a five year old, the toothless woman, the alcoholic father: it's dark here. And everybody knows it.

The neighborhood with the perfectly manicured yards, the brand new cars, the swing set in the back: it seems different. Christmas lights strung up perfectly, Rudolph's red nose flashing on the rooftop. The neighborhood where people are happy to live, not scared to go out at night, where people want to raise a family: it seems different.

But it's not. It's dark there, too. Families are broken, guns are smoking, and children are toking just the same. You just can't see it from the road. The decay is on the inside, while the outside seems squeaky clean. It's dark here, even if the neighbors don't know it.

Can we evade brokenness? Can we outrun darkness? Can we escape the hopeless place which is the face of this earth? Can we ever expect peace, or are we just waiting for the darkness to consume us? The sun burns bright for half the day, if we're lucky. But it's not enough. It can't burn through the darkness, through my darkness. 93 million miles away is close enough to warm my face, but not my heart.

I need the sun to touch me. I need the sun to move into my neighborhood. I need the sun to do away with the dirt, dust, dilapidation. I need light to shine.

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Into this brokenness, this darkness, Jesus moved in. Into this dust, this decay, Jesus took up residence. Not afraid of trailer parks or private drives, Jesus moved in.

He didn't want merely to do away with darkness; he wanted to touch it, to consume it, to overcome it. He came close. Jesus dwelt in the dirt, in the darkness, born in a barn and born in flesh. And the light shined. Did away with disease, defeated way, loved the loveless, gave hope to the hopeless, made the world clear for the blind. Destroyed death. Destroyed darkness.

God cares about people in darkness. 93 million miles was too far for him; he wanted to dwell with his people. He wanted to be Immanuel- God with us. He wanted those living in darkness to know that he delighted in them, to feel the warmth of the sun in their hearts, to see the light of day in their world. He wanted them to dream in the daylight, a dream of what their streets would look like with Christmas lights not just hanging up during the winter, but rather the Christmas Light hanging out there year round. Dwelling there, year round. He wanted them to live in the security of his hope, his love, his peace, his joy.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.
For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders,
    the rod of their oppressor.
Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness
    from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9:2-7

Tomorrow is the Resurrection

In my first week of being a "pastor-in-training" I got asked if I wanted to make a hospital call, to go and visit someone who was in the hospital. It wasn't going to be a normal hospital visit; Bruce was on his deathbed. He had less than forty-eight hours to live. He had a white blood cell count in the millions. He had a misdiagnosed disease that was now destined to destroy his life. Just a week earlier, Bruce was on the golf course, thinking he had a normal life, and now, he was surrounded by his children, grandchildren, wife, and siblings. Dying. "He could die tomorrow," the pastor told me, "he could die today."

I had never witnessed such an intimate, vulnerable, raw time with a family before. These people were gathered together to take their last communion with their father. They were staring death in the face, and they didn't know what to do. They were lost in emotion, fear, and pain. So they did the only thing they knew to do: run to the cross, cling to the heavenly Meal, the foretaste of the feast to come. Hold on to the promises of the Prince of Peace, even- no especially- in the presence of pain and powerlessness.

I saw Bruce in church last week. Three months after getting a two day death-notice, he is still living. He made it through three death sentences, and he is close to full remission. Walking, laughing, golfing, living. He willingly admits he has experienced the miraculous. But the changed heart is something that is not as seen. He has a new perspective on life, on God, and especially on death. 

Last week, the Church celebrated "All Saints Day." The Church celebrated all the Christians who have died in the faith, the faithful lives they lived, and the hope we all have in the resurrection from the dead. Bruce's family would have been celebrating his life, and their hope that Jesus would raise him from the dead. Instead, they were celebrating his life with him. But Bruce was still celebrating the resurrection from the dead.

"Tomorrow is the resurrection," he told me. "One day you die, and the next is the Resurrection." Bruce's words hit me. I was standing in the presence of a man who should have died but was living. A man who should be awaiting Tomorrow. And I was. His experience had brought him to the realization that we are all awaiting Tomorrow, whether we're in the grave or not. Our hope lies in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the one who died but lives. The one who has power over life and death. The one who can do anything.

We are all awaiting Tomorrow, when we will be renewed, in the presence of God, laughing, running, and jumping. We are all awaiting Tomorrow, when we will sit at the Table and feast, no more foretastes. We are all awaiting tomorrow, when we will be reunited with our loved ones who have died before us. Being touched by death made it evident to Bruce, and to me as well. We have hope, even in the face of death.

And, no matter where we are, Tomorrow isn't looking too bad.