Aerosmith, Plumbers, and the Pope...

Ever had something stuck in your head for what feels like absolutely FOREVER? I distinctly remember a two-week span when I was in high school when I had the Aerosmith song "Dude Looks Like A Lady" playing on repeat in my brain. I'm not sure what that particular song says about me that my brain latched onto to it with both hands, but it was a miserable fourteen days, I can tell you. No matter what else I listened to or did, that song was rattling along as the soundtrack to my miserable existence, until one day it was just gone. Who knows what it was replaced by...One of the many constructive things seventeen-year-old guys think about.

But I'm going through something similar right now, and I have been for the past couple of months. Fortunately, it's a concept, not a song. Two straight months of ANY song, let alone Aerosmith, would doubtless have me in a straightjacket...But the concept is this (and if you've been around me over the past couple of months, you've probably had to hear about it. For that, I'm sorry. I'm not very good at not talking to everyone within earshot about what I'm currently thinking...): How do we bring the incredible reality of God into the ordinary, the mundane, the everyday world? In other words, how do we change our perspective, so that we don't see the human life we have to deal with and the God life we want to deal with, as mutually exclusive? A few weeks after this started to occupy  much of my thought process, I was given a book called The Insider, written by Jim Petersen and Mike Shamy. Coincidentally, it's subtitled "bringing the kingdom of God into your everyday world." In it, they point to the beginning of what Paul writes in the book of Ephesians:

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ. Even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes. God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure. So we praise God for the glorious grace he has poured out on us who belong to his dear Son. He is so rich in kindness and grace that he purchased our freedom with the blood of his Son and forgave our sins. He has showered his kindness on us, along with all wisdom and understanding. God has now revealed to us his mysterious plan regarding Christ, a plan to fulfill his own good pleasure. And this is the plan: At the right time he will bring everything together under the authority of Christ—everything in heaven and on earth. Furthermore, because we are united with Christ, we have received an inheritance from God, for he chose us in advance, and he makes everything work out according to his plan. Ephesians 1:3-10 (NLT)

They follow up this passage with this thought: "This paragraph is filled with vital information. God has purposes. He has a plan and right now He is in the midst of working it out. This is not an emergency rescue operation that God is performing, a sort of "Plan B" after things went wrong. This plan was in place before God created anything at all! We also learn that at the center of this plan is the creation of a people, and that the cost of getting them would be the blood of His Son. In summary, this passage tells us that life has to do with a people and a cross."
 
To be it slightly differently, the God parts of life aren't hanging around somewhere, high above the human moments, waiting for just the right moments to be seen. The God moments are right smack in the middle of the human moments. The famous Jewish Theologian, Martin Buber, puts it this way:
"The critical religious experiences of man do not take place in a sphere in which creative energy operates without contradiction, but in a sphere in which evil and good, despair and hope, the power of rebirth, dwell side by side. The divine force which man actually encounters in life does not hover above the demonic, but penetrates it."
 
The work of God is done through His people, with all of the baggage that people represent. The work of God is not intended to be done through only a certain kind of person, who dots the i's correctly and warms the church pew the right way. Your every interaction, my every activity, whether as plumber, pastor, or painter, has the tremendous potential to advance God's cause, to be indifferent to it, or to actively lead people away from it. And I might add, to be indifferent to it long enough IS to actively lead people away from it.
 
It's really about recognizing that every place we find ourselves is ripe for an honest telling of the God story. Not necessarily the plan of salvation, and not even necessarily by speaking. By honestly being who God has created us to be be, infusing all of life's vital work with the essence of God. To be ready, as 1 Peter says, to give an answer to those who ask. To be just as ready to listen instead of talk, do instead of demanding to be served, treating people around us like they really do matter to God Himself. In this way, every last one of us becomes an artist in the whole painting of life. We don't have to wish we had a part to play, or a gift to use. You have, and you do. God is in the mundane, and he uses the ordinary. As Benedict XVI said so eloquently upon taking the office of Pope: "[I am] a simple, humble labourer in the vineyard of the Lord. The fact that the Lord knows how to work and to act even with insufficient instruments comforts me, and above all I entrust myself to your prayers. In the joy of the Risen Lord, confident of his unfailing help, let us move forward."

There, now, if a Protestant, a Jew, and a Catholic can all agree on something, maybe it's worth thinking about :) Let's do it...
Peace to you all...

Hope, Miley Cyrus, and infected wounds...

As we've been going through this series at Element called "Anatomy of a Life With God", I've been reminded every week as I've been preparing for Sunday about a basic truth in my life, which is this: Every morning when the alarm clock shatters my deep sleep and pries me away from my dream (which was a strange little surrealist number last night about searching for my contact lenses in a strange house...I don't even wear contacts. Weird. A psychologist would have a field day with me), I feel like I have hope. For real. There's something about facing the day that feels somehow limitless, like I can see a whole bunch of possibilities, an incredible variety of ways my day could go. Even when the day's schedule is packed, and there's not much room to be flexible, it still feels to me like my day is wide open to see what God can do with it. I know, it sounds all "motivational-speaker-ish" to say something like that, but I really feel like it's true. That's become an aspect of my own Life With God. I really do feel an almost intense feeling of excitement when I think about my day. Of course, this isn't always true, but it's true quite often, and the difference is, it rarely used to be true at all.

                                                                                                                                                For quite a while in my life, If I had something written on the calendar for some point in the future, such as a night out with friends on Friday, or a Miley Cyrus concert next Tuesday (Just kidding about the Miley Cyrus part. She wasn't around during this time in my life. Then, it was Hanson. Remember "Mmmbop"? Of course you do.), then I had something to be stoked about. But the daily grind was pretty much just that, a grind. Somewhat  unpleasant...Mostly something to be endured...And I used to look at people who were happy more often than not with some degree of suspicion. What are you so cheerful about? Don't you realize that reality's no laughing matter? Even this idea of joy, this notion that God can change my outlook seemed weird...Almost as though I had to pretend that life wasn't often grim, bury my fingers in my ears, and chant repeatedly, à la Bob Wiley: "I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful..."

                                                                                                                                                But something changed for me several years ago, in a kind of unlikely way, and though it didn't happen overnight, my perspective on my day changed, and with it, my perspective on God. I worked for a while in a Research and Development lab for a company that came up with innovative ways to treat hard-to-heal wounds. As you can imagine, many of the case studies we did were done with patients who were facing difficult times. Now, one issue you have to contend with in dealing with an open wound that won't heal is the issue of moisture management. I don't mean to be gross here, but a wound heals best when it has a certain amount of moisture present. Too dry, and it won't heal. Too moist, and it's prone to infection, among other issues. I remember one patient in particular - She had tried many different things with very little success, and was extremely depressed. Her outlook was essentially that that her day held no more hope than the previous, because she felt like she had tried everything, and the wound still kept getting infected. Until one of our team started treating her wound differently, and brought her infection issue under control. Within a couple of days, the infection was gone, and the wound started showing healthy tissue. And though it took time, eventually the wound healed completely. I remember being told about this case and thinking, "What an incredible relief it must be to know that you're finally on the right path, physically speaking. That can't help but affect your outlook on life. You'd finally feel like you had hope." And as I thought that through, more and more, I started finally adding up the numbers in my own life. I felt like I knew God and had a relationship with Him. And if that was true, and God is who He claims to be, then I had the hope that I was on the right path. And if I was on the right path in the area in which I was struggling the most, then shouldn't that give me some hope for my daily life? Why so bitter about life all the time? The problem was that I was viewing my relationship with God as an event on the calendar in the future, so life was, at best, to be endured until then. I had to actually choose to let Him affect my outlook on life.

Psalm 34:4 (NLT) says this:

"I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears."

I believe that's true in my life. But I also believe that I had to let Him free me...I run into people all the time who can tell me everything there is to know about the nature of God, and yet live, essentially, without hope. I know what that's like. My prayer for us all is from Romans 15:13 (NLT): "I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit."

And just as we're looking at the fingerprint of God on these people throughout the Bible in our "Anatomy" series, I would dearly love for people to be able to look at our lives for the same kind of thing. That our lives would be evidence of a living God - moving, breathing, and changing lives. Giving hope where there once was none. I don't know much, but I do know this, and I write this as one who's been changed...

Of Healing, Truth and The Church...

A couple of weeks ago I made the confession that I'm a music junkie. Not a real shocking revelation to those of you who know me, but I felt better just saying the words...There's power in confession :) And last night, I had my fix delivered in an incredible, intense, and seriously life-affirming kind of way. Through the generosity of a couple of good friends, I had the privilege of seeing Patty Griffin and Buddy Miller live. I won't bore you with the details, since I know for some of you there's only thing more mind-numbing than talking about music, and that's reading about it...Suffice it to say that on a musical level, it was an artistic statement of rare power and beauty, and I was pretty much on the proverbial ninth cloud all the way through the show. Lyrically, though, I was stunned. Patty's latest album is very gospel-oriented, and I really don't think I've been to many church worship services in my life that moved on the level this show did. This song, in particular...It's called Little Fire:
My friend, come stand beside me
Lately, I'm feeling so lost
A flood came and washed the stones of the path away
And a hot sun turned the mud to dust

Calling the sheep in for the evening
There's a voice, calls above the howling wind
It says comes rest beside my little fire
We'll ride out the storm that's coming in

My friend, you know me and my family
You've seen us wandering through these times
You've seen us in weakness and in power
You've seen us forgetful and unkind

All that I want is one who knows me
A kind hand on my face when I weep
And I'd give back these things I know are meaningless
For a little fire beside me when I sleep


As I was sitting there, it struck me that this is pretty spot-on description of what the Church could, and should be. Instead of simply being the primary place where our spiritual learning happens, the community of Jesus is charged with the task of taking care of people. And not just the people we like. And sometimes in uncomfortable ways. I love the idea that the Church is refuge from the howling wind. That we can be free to be weak, and still be loved. What a great thing to be the fire in each others' lives...Thanks, Patty for the words. Thanks, God, for the reason to write them...I pray we would truly be each others' little fire.
Peace...